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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Secret of the Night
+
+Author: Gaston Leroux
+
+Posting Date: November 20, 2008 [EBook #1686]
+Release Date: March, 1999
+[Last updated: September 12, 2017]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+
+By Gaston Leroux
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Chapter
+
+     I       GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+     II      NATACHA
+     III     THE WATCH
+     IV      “THE YOUTH OF Moscow Is DEAD”
+      V       BY ROULETABILLE’S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+     VI      THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+     VII     ARSENATE OF SODA
+     VIII    THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+     IX      ANNOUCHEA
+     X       A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+     XI      THE POISON CONTINUES
+     XII     PERE ALEXIS
+     XIII    THE LIVING BOMBS
+     XIV     THE MARSHES
+     XV      “I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU”
+      XVI     BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+     XVII    THE LAST CRAVAT
+     XVIII   A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+     XIX     THE TSAR
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+I. GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+
+
+“BARINIA, the young stranger has arrived.”
+
+“Where is he?”
+
+“Oh, he is waiting at the lodge.”
+
+“I told you to show him to Natacha’s sitting-room. Didn’t you understand
+me, Ermolai?”
+
+“Pardon, Barinia, but the young stranger, when I asked to search him, as
+you directed, flatly refused to let me.”
+
+“Did you explain to him that everybody is searched before being allowed
+to enter, that it is the order, and that even my mother herself has
+submitted to it?”
+
+“I told him all that, Barinia; and I told him about madame your mother.”
+
+“What did he say to that?”
+
+“That he was not madame your mother. He acted angry.”
+
+“Well, let him come in without being searched.”
+
+“The Chief of Police won’t like it.”
+
+“Do as I say.”
+
+Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden. The “barinia” left the
+veranda, where she had come for this conversation with the old servant
+of General Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the dining-room
+in the datcha des Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan Petrovitch was
+regaling his amused associates with his latest exploit at Cubat’s
+resort. They were a noisy company, and certainly the quietest among them
+was not the general, who nursed on a sofa the leg which still held him
+captive after the recent attack, that to his old coachman and his two
+piebald horses had proved fatal. The story of the always-amiable Ivan
+Petrovitch (a lively, little, elderly man with his head bald as an
+egg) was about the evening before. After having, as he said, “recure
+la bouche” for these gentlemen spoke French like their own language
+and used it among themselves to keep their servants from
+understanding--after having wet his whistle with a large glass of
+sparkling rosy French wine, he cried:
+
+“You would have laughed, Feodor Feodorovitch. We had sung songs on the
+Barque* and then the Bohemians left with their music and we went out
+onto the river-bank to stretch our legs and cool our faces in the
+freshness of the dawn, when a company of Cossacks of the Guard came
+along. I knew the officer in command and invited him to come along with
+us and drink the Emperor’s health at Cubat’s place. That officer, Feodor
+Feodorovitch, is a man who knows vintages and boasts that he has never
+swallowed a glass of anything so common as Crimean wine. When I named
+champagne he cried, ‘Vive l’Empereur!’ A true patriot. So we started,
+merry as school-children. The entire company followed, then all the
+diners playing little whistles, and all the servants besides, single
+file. At Cubat’s I hated to leave the companion-officers of my friend at
+the door, so I invited them in, too. They accepted, naturally. But the
+subalterns were thirsty as well. I understand discipline. You know,
+Feodor Feodorovitch, that I am a stickler for discipline. Just because
+one is gay of a spring morning, discipline should not be forgotten. I
+invited the officers to drink in a private room, and sent the subalterns
+into the main hall of the restaurant. Then the soldiers were thirsty,
+too, and I had drinks served to them out in the courtyard. Then, my
+word, there was a perplexing business, for now the horses whinnied. The
+brave horses, Feodor Feodorovitch, who also wished to drink the health
+of the Emperor. I was bothered about the discipline. Hall, court, all
+were full. And I could not put the horses in private rooms. Well, I made
+them carry out champagne in pails and then came the perplexing business
+I had tried so hard to avoid, a grand mixture of boots and horse-shoes
+that was certainly the liveliest thing I have ever seen in my life. But
+the horses were the most joyous, and danced as if a torch was held under
+their nostrils, and all of them, my word! were ready to throw their
+riders because the men were not of the same mind with them as to the
+route to follow! From our window we laughed fit to kill at such a
+mixture of sprawling boots and dancing hoofs. But the troopers finally
+got all their horses to barracks, with patience, for the Emperor’s
+cavalry are the best riders in the world, Feodor Feodorovitch. And we
+certainly had a great laugh!--Your health, Matrena Petrovna.”
+
+     [* The “Barque” is a restaurant on a boat, among the isles,
+     near the Gulf of Finland, on a bank of the Neva.]
+
+These last graceful words were addressed to Madame Trebassof, who
+shrugged her shoulders at the undesired gallantry of the gay Councilor.
+She did not join in the conversation, excepting to calm the general, who
+wished to send the whole regiment to the guard-house, men and horses.
+And while the roisterers laughed over the adventure she said to her
+husband in the advisory voice of the helpful wife:
+
+“Feodor, you must not attach importance to what that old fool Ivan
+tells you. He is the most imaginative man in the capital when he has had
+champagne.”
+
+“Ivan, you certainly have not had horses served with champagne in
+pails,” the old boaster, Athanase Georgevitch, protested jealously. He
+was an advocate, well-known for his table-feats, who claimed the hardest
+drinking reputation of any man in the capital, and he regretted not to
+have invented that tale.
+
+“On my word! And the best brands! I had won four thousand roubles. I
+left the little fete with fifteen kopecks.”
+
+Matrena Petrovna was listening to Ermolai, the faithful country servant
+who wore always, even here in the city, his habit of fresh nankeen, his
+black leather belt, his large blue pantaloons and his boots glistening
+like ice, his country costume in his master’s city home. Madame Matrena
+rose, after lightly stroking the hair of her step-daughter Natacha,
+whose eyes followed her to the door, indifferent apparently to the
+tender manifestations of her father’s orderly, the soldier-poet, Boris
+Mourazoff, who had written beautiful verses on the death of the
+Moscow students, after having shot them, in the way of duty, on their
+barricades.
+
+Ermolai conducted his mistress to the drawing-room and pointed across
+to a door that he had left open, which led to the sitting-room before
+Natacha’s chamber.
+
+“He is there,” said Ermolai in a low voice.
+
+Ermolai need have said nothing, for that matter, since Madame
+Matrena was aware of a stranger’s presence in the sitting-room by the
+extraordinary attitude of an individual in a maroon frock-coat bordered
+with false astrakhan, such as is on the coats of all the Russian police
+agents and makes the secret agents recognizable at first glance. This
+policeman was on his knees in the drawing-room watching what passed in
+the next room through the narrow space of light in the hinge-way of the
+door. In this manner, or some other, all persons who wished to approach
+General Trebassof were kept under observation without their knowing it,
+after having been first searched at the lodge, a measure adopted since
+the latest attack.
+
+Madame Matrena touched the policeman’s shoulder with that heroic hand
+which had saved her husband’s life and which still bore traces of the
+terrible explosion in the last attack, when she had seized the infernal
+machine intended for the general with her bare hand. The policeman rose
+and silently left the room, reached the veranda and lounged there on a
+sofa, pretending to be asleep, but in reality watching the garden paths.
+
+Matrena Petrovna took his place at the hinge-vent. This was her rule;
+she always took the final glance at everything and everybody. She
+roved at all hours of the day and night round about the general, like a
+watch-dog, ready to bite, to throw itself before the danger, to receive
+the blows, to perish for its master. This had commenced at Moscow after
+the terrible repression, the massacre of revolutionaries under the walls
+of Presnia, when the surviving Nihilists left behind them a placard
+condemning the victorious General Trebassof to death. Matrena Petrovna
+lived only for the general. She had vowed that she would not survive
+him. So she had double reason to guard him.
+
+But she had lost all confidence even within the walls of her own home.
+
+Things had happened even there that defied her caution, her instinct,
+her love. She had not spoken of these things save to the Chief of
+Police, Koupriane, who had reported them to the Emperor. And here now
+was the man whom the Emperor had sent, as the supreme resource, this
+young stranger--Joseph Rouletabille, reporter.
+
+“But he is a mere boy!” she exclaimed, without at all understanding the
+matter, this youthful figure, with soft, rounded cheeks, eyes clear and,
+at first view, extraordinarily naive, the eyes of an infant. True, at
+the moment Rouletabille’s expression hardly suggested any superhuman
+profundity of thought, for, left in view of a table, spread with
+hors-d’oeuvres, the young man appeared solely occupied in digging out
+with a spoon all the caviare that remained in the jars. Matrena noted
+the rosy freshness of his cheeks, the absence of down on his lip and not
+a hint of beard, the thick hair, with the curl over the forehead. Ah,
+that forehead--the forehead was curious, with great over-hanging cranial
+lumps which moved above the deep arcade of the eye-sockets while the
+mouth was busy--well, one would have said that Rouletabille had not
+eaten for a week. He was demolishing a great slice of Volgan sturgeon,
+contemplating at the same time with immense interest a salad of creamed
+cucumbers, when Matrena Petrovna appeared.
+
+He wished to excuse himself at once and spoke with his mouth full.
+
+“I beg your pardon, madame, but the Czar forgot to invite me to
+breakfast.”
+
+Madame Matrena smiled and gave him a hearty handshake as she urged him
+to be seated.
+
+“You have seen His Majesty?”
+
+“I come from him, madame. It is to Madame Trebassof that I have the
+honor of speaking?”
+
+“Yes. And you are Monsieur--?”
+
+“Joseph Rouletabille, madame. I do not add, ‘At your service--because
+I do not know about that yet. That is what I said just now to His
+Majesty.”
+
+“Then?” asked Madame Matrena, rather amused by the tone the conversation
+had taken and the slightly flurried air of Rouletabille.
+
+“Why, then, I am a reporter, you see. That is what I said at once to my
+editor in Paris, ‘I am not going to take part in revolutionary affairs
+that do not concern my country,’ to which my editor replied, ‘You do
+not have to take part. You must go to Russia to make an inquiry into
+the present status of the different parties. You will commence by
+interviewing the Emperor.’ I said, ‘Well, then, here goes,’ and took the
+train.”
+
+“And you have interviewed the Emperor?”
+
+“Oh, yes, that has not been difficult. I expected to arrive direct
+at St. Petersburg, but at Krasnoie-Coelo the train stopped and the
+grand-marshal of the court came to me and asked me to follow him. It
+was very flattering. Twenty minutes later I was before His Majesty. He
+awaited me! I understood at once that this was obviously for something
+out of the ordinary.”
+
+“And what did he say to you?”
+
+“He is a man of genuine majesty. He reassured me at once when I
+explained my scruples to him. He said there was no occasion for me to
+take part in the politics of the matter, but to save his most faithful
+servant, who was on the point of becoming the victim of the strangest
+family drama ever conceived.”
+
+Madame Matrena, white as a sheet, rose to her feet.
+
+“Ah,” she said simply.
+
+But Rouletabille, whom nothing escaped, saw her hand tremble on the back
+of the chair.
+
+He went on, not appearing to have noticed her emotion:
+
+“His Majesty added these exact words: ‘It is I who ask it of you; I and
+Madame Trebassof. Go, monsieur, she awaits you.’”
+
+He ceased and waited for Madame Trebassof to speak.
+
+She made up her mind after brief reflection.
+
+“Have you seen Koupriane?”
+
+“The Chief of Police? Yes. The grand-marshal accompanied me back to the
+station at Krasnoie-Coelo, and the Chief of Police accompanied me to St.
+Petersburg station. One could not have been better received.”
+
+“Monsieur Rouletabille,” said Matrena, who visibly strove to regain her
+self-control, “I am not of Koupriane’s opinion and I am not”--here she
+lowered her trembling voice--“of the opinion His Majesty holds. It
+is better for me to tell you at once, so that you may not
+regret intervening in an affair where there are--where there
+are--risks--terrible risks to run. No, this is not a family drama. The
+family is small, very small: the general, his daughter Natacha (by his
+former marriage), and myself. There could not be a family drama among
+us three. It is simply about my husband, monsieur, who did his duty as
+a soldier in defending the throne of his sovereign, my husband whom they
+mean to assassinate! There is nothing else, no other situation, my dear
+little guest.”
+
+To hide her distress she started to carve a slice of jellied veal and
+carrot.
+
+“You have not eaten, you are hungry. It is dreadful, my dear young man.
+See, you must dine with us, and then--you will say adieu. Yes, you will
+leave me all alone. I will undertake to save him all alone. Certainly, I
+will undertake it.”
+
+A tear fell on the slice she was cutting. Rouletabille, who felt the
+brave woman’s emotion affecting him also, braced himself to keep from
+showing it.
+
+“I am able to help you a little all the same,” he said. “Monsieur
+Koupriane has told me that there is a deep mystery. It is my vocation to
+get to the bottom of mysteries.”
+
+“I know what Koupriane thinks,” she said, shaking her head. “But if
+I could bring myself to think that for a single day I would rather be
+dead.”
+
+The good Matrena Petrovna lifted her beautiful eyes to Rouletabille,
+brimming with the tears she held back.
+
+She added quickly:
+
+“But eat now, my dear guest; eat. My dear child, you must forget what
+Koupriane has said to you, when you are back in France.”
+
+“I promise you that, madame.”
+
+“It is the Emperor who has caused you this long journey. For me, I
+did not wish it. Has he, indeed, so much confidence in you?” she asked
+naively, gazing at him fixedly through her tears.
+
+“Madame, I was just about to tell you. I have been active in some
+important matters that have been reported to him, and then sometimes
+your Emperor is allowed to see the papers. He has heard talk, too (for
+everybody talked of them, madame), about the Mystery of the Yellow Room
+and the Perfume of the Lady in Black.”
+
+Here Rouletabille watched Madame Trebassof and was much mortified at the
+undoubted ignorance that showed in her frank face of either the yellow
+room or the black perfume.
+
+“My young friend,” said she, in a voice more and more hesitant, “you
+must excuse me, but it is a long time since I have had good eyes for
+reading.”
+
+Tears, at last, ran down her cheeks.
+
+Rouletabille could not restrain himself any further. He saw in one flash
+all this heroic woman had suffered in her combat day by day with the
+death which hovered. He took her little fat hands, whose fingers were
+overloaded with rings, tremulously into his own:
+
+“Madame, do not weep. They wish to kill your husband. Well then, we will
+be two at least to defend him, I swear to you.”
+
+“Even against the Nihilists!”
+
+“Aye, madame, against all the world. I have eaten all your caviare. I am
+your guest. I am your friend.”
+
+As he said this he was so excited, so sincere and so droll that Madame
+Trebassof could not help smiling through her tears. She made him sit
+down beside her.
+
+“The Chief of Police has talked of you a great deal. He came here
+abruptly after the last attack and a mysterious happening that I will
+tell you about. He cried, ‘Ah, we need Rouletabille to unravel this!’
+The next day he came here again. He had gone to the Court. There,
+everybody, it appears, was talking of you. The Emperor wished to know
+you. That is why steps were taken through the ambassador at Paris.”
+
+“Yes, yes. And naturally all the world has learned of it. That makes it
+so lively. The Nihilists warned me immediately that I would not reach
+Russia alive. That, finally, was what decided me on coming. I am
+naturally very contrary.”
+
+“And how did you get through the journey?”
+
+“Not badly. I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned
+to kill me, and I reached an understanding with him. He was a charming
+youth, so it was easily arranged.”
+
+Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would have
+been difficult for him to name. Matrena Petrovna laid her fat little
+hand on his arm:
+
+“You speak seriously?”
+
+“Very seriously.”
+
+“A small glass of vodka?”
+
+“No alcohol.”
+
+Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.
+
+“And how did you discover him? How did you know him?”
+
+“First, he wore glasses. All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling. And
+then I had a good clew. A minute before the departure from Paris I had a
+friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a reporter who would do
+anything I said without even wanting to know why. I said, ‘You call out
+suddenly and very loud, “Hello, here is Rouletabille.”’ So he called,
+‘Hello, here is Rouletabille,’ and all those who were in the corridor
+turned and all those who were already in the compartments came out,
+excepting the man with the glasses. Then I was sure about him.”
+
+Madame Trebassof looked at Rouletabille, who turned as red as the comb of
+a rooster and was rather embarrassed at his fatuity.
+
+“That deserves a rebuff, I know, madame, but from the moment the Emperor
+of all the Russias had desired to see me I could not admit that any mere
+man with glasses had not the curiosity to see what I looked like. It
+was not natural. As soon as the train was off I sat down by this man and
+told him who I thought he was. I was right. He removed his glasses and,
+looking me straight in the eyes, said he was glad to have a little talk
+with me before anything unfortunate happened. A half-hour later the
+entente-cordiale was signed. I gave him to understand that I was coming
+here simply on business as a reporter and that there was always time to
+check me if I should be indiscreet. At the German frontier he left me to
+go on, and returned tranquilly to his nitro-glycerine.”
+
+“You are a marked man also, my poor boy.”
+
+“Oh, they have not got us yet.”
+
+Matrena Petrovna coughed. That _us_ overwhelmed her. With what calmness
+this boy that she had not known an hour proposed to share the dangers
+of a situation that excited general pity but from which the bravest kept
+aloof either from prudence or dismay.
+
+“Ah, my friend, a little of this fine smoked Hamburg beef?”
+
+But the young man was already pouring out fresh yellow beer.
+
+“There,” said he. “Now, madame, I am listening. Tell me first about the
+earliest attack.”
+
+“Now,” said Matrena, “we must go to dinner.”
+
+Rouletabille looked at her wide-eyed.
+
+“But, madame, what have I just been doing?”
+
+Madame Matrena smiled. All these strangers were alike. Because they
+had eaten some hors-d’oeuvres, some zakouskis, they imagined their host
+would be satisfied. They did not know how to eat.
+
+“We will go to the dining-room. The general is expecting you. They are
+at table.”
+
+“I understand I am supposed to know him.”
+
+“Yes, you have met in Paris. It is entirely natural that in passing
+through St. Petersburg you should make him a visit. You know him
+very well indeed, so well that he opens his home to you. Ah, yes, my
+step-daughter also”--she flushed a little--“Natacha believes that her
+father knows you.”
+
+She opened the door of the drawing-room, which they had to cross in
+order to reach the dining-room.
+
+From his present position Rouletabille could see all the corners of
+the drawing-room, the veranda, the garden and the entrance lodge at the
+gate. In the veranda the man in the maroon frock-coat trimmed with false
+astrakhan seemed still to be asleep on the sofa; in one of the corners
+of the drawing-room another individual, silent and motionless as a
+statue, dressed exactly the same, in a maroon frock-coat with false
+astrakhan, stood with his hands behind his back seemingly struck with
+general paralysis at the sight of a flaring sunset which illumined as
+with a torch the golden spires of Saints Peter and Paul. And in the
+garden and before the lodge three others dressed in maroon roved
+like souls in pain over the lawn or back and forth at the entrance.
+Rouletabille motioned to Madame Matrena, stepped back into the
+sitting-room and closed the door.
+
+“Police?” he asked.
+
+Matrena Petrovna nodded her head and put her finger to her mouth in a
+naive way, as one would caution a child to silence. Rouletabille smiled.
+
+“How many are there?”
+
+“Ten, relieved every six hours.”
+
+“That makes forty unknown men around your house each day.”
+
+“Not unknown,” she replied. “Police.”
+
+“Yet, in spite of them, you have had the affair of the bouquet in the
+general’s chamber.”
+
+“No, there were only three then. It is since the affair of the bouquet
+that there have been ten.”
+
+“It hardly matters. It is since these ten that you have had...”
+
+“What?” she demanded anxiously.
+
+“You know well--the flooring.”
+
+“Sh-h-h.”
+
+She glanced at the door, watching the policeman statuesque before the
+setting sun.
+
+“No one knows that--not even my husband.”
+
+“So M. Koupriane told me. Then it is you who have arranged for these ten
+police-agents?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Well, we will commence now by sending all these police away.”
+
+Matrena Petrovna grasped his hand, astounded.
+
+“Surely you don’t think of doing such a thing as that!”
+
+“Yes. We must know where the blow is coming from. You have four
+different groups of people around here--the police, the domestics, your
+friends, your family. Get rid of the police first. They must not be
+permitted to cross your threshold. They have not been able to protect
+you. You have nothing to regret. And if, after they are gone, something
+new turns up, we can leave M. Koupriane to conduct the inquiries without
+his being preoccupied here at the house.”
+
+“But you do not know the admirable police of Koupriane. These brave men
+have given proof of their devotion.”
+
+“Madame, if I were face to face with a Nihilist the first thing I would
+ask myself about him would be, ‘Is he one of the police?’ The first
+thing I ask in the presence of an agent of your police is, ‘Is he not a
+Nihilist?’”
+
+“But they will not wish to go.”
+
+“Do any of them speak French?”
+
+“Yes, their sergeant, who is out there in the salon.”
+
+“Pray call him.”
+
+Madame Trebassof walked into the salon and signaled. The man appeared.
+Rouletabille handed him a paper, which the other read.
+
+“You will gather your men together and quit the villa,” ordered
+Rouletabille. “You will return to the police Headguarters. Say to M.
+Koupriane that I have commanded this and that I require all police
+service around the villa to be suspended until further orders.”
+
+The man bowed, appeared not to understand, looked at Madame Trebassof
+and said to the young man:
+
+“At your service.”
+
+He went out.
+
+“Wait here a moment,” urged Madame Trebassof, who did not know how to
+take this abrupt action and whose anxiety was really painful to see.
+
+She disappeared after the man of the false astrakhan. A few moments
+afterwards she returned. She appeared even more agitated.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” she murmured, “but I cannot let them go like this.
+They are much chagrined. They have insisted on knowing where they have
+failed in their service. I have appeased them with money.”
+
+“Yes, and tell me the whole truth, madame. You have directed them not to
+go far away, but to remain near the villa so as to watch it as closely
+as possible.”
+
+She reddened.
+
+“It is true. But they have gone, nevertheless. They had to obey you.
+What can that paper be you have shown them?”
+
+Rouletabille drew out again the billet covered with seals and signs and
+cabalistics that he did not understand. Madame Trebassof translated it
+aloud: “Order to all officials in surveillance of the Villa Trebassof to
+obey the bearer absolutely. Signed: Koupriane.”
+
+“Is it possible!” murmured Matrena Petrovna. “But Koupriane would never
+have given you this paper if he had imagined that you would use it to
+dismiss his agents.”
+
+“Evidently. I have not asked him his advice, madame, you may be sure.
+But I will see him to-morrow and he will understand.”
+
+“Meanwhile, who is going to watch over him?” cried she.
+
+Rouletabille took her hands again. He saw her suffering, a prey to
+anguish almost prostrating. He pitied her. He wished to give her
+immediate confidence.
+
+“We will,” he said.
+
+She saw his young, clear eyes, so deep, so intelligent, the well-formed
+young head, the willing face, all his young ardency for her, and it
+reassured her. Rouletabille waited for what she might say. She said
+nothing. She took him in her arms and embraced him.
+
+
+
+
+II. NATACHA
+
+In the dining-room it was Thaddeus Tchnichnikoff’s turn to tell hunting
+stories. He was the greatest timber-merchant in Lithuania. He owned
+immense forests and he loved Feodor Feodorovitch* as a brother, for they
+had played together all through their childhood, and once he had saved
+him from a bear that was just about to crush his skull as one might
+knock off a hat. General Trebassof’s father was governor of Courlande at
+that time, by the grace of God and the Little Father. Thaddeus, who was
+just thirteen years old, killed the bear with a single stroke of his
+boar-spear, and just in time. Close ties were knit between the two
+families by this occurrence, and though Thaddeus was neither noble-born
+nor a soldier, Feodor considered him his brother and felt toward him
+as such. Now Thaddeus had become the greatest timber-merchant of the
+western provinces, with his own forests and also with his massive body,
+his fat, oily face, his bull-neck and his ample paunch. He quitted
+everything at once--all his affairs, his family--as soon as he learned
+of the first attack, to come and remain by the side of his dear comrade
+Feodor. He had done this after each attack, without forgetting one.
+He was a faithful friend. But he fretted because they might not go
+bear-hunting as in their youth. ‘Where, he would ask, are there any
+bears remaining in Courlande, or trees for that matter, what you could
+call trees, growing since the days of the grand-dukes of Lithuania,
+giant trees that threw their shade right up to the very edge of the
+towns? Where were such things nowadays? Thaddeus was very amusing,
+for it was he, certainly, who had cut them away tranquilly enough
+and watched them vanish in locomotive smoke. It was what was called
+Progress. Ah, hunting lost its national character assuredly with tiny
+new-growth trees which had not had time to grow. And, besides, one
+nowadays had not time for hunting. All the big game was so far away.
+Lucky enough if one seized the time to bring down a brace of woodcock
+early in the morning. At this point in Thaddeus’s conversation there
+was a babble of talk among the convivial gentlemen, for they had all the
+time in the world at their disposal and could not see why he should be
+so concerned about snatching a little while at morning or evening, or
+at midday for that matter. Champagne was flowing like a river when
+Rouletabille was brought in by Matrena Petrovna. The general, whose eyes
+had been on the door for some time, cried at once, as though responding
+to a cue:
+
+“Ah, my dear Rouletabille! I have been looking for you. Our friends
+wrote me you were coming to St. Petersburg.”
+
+     * In this story according to Russian habit General Trebassof
+     is called alternately by that name or the family name Feodor
+     Feodorovitch, and Madame Trebassof by that name or her
+     family name, Matrena Petrovna.--Translator’s Note.
+
+Rouletabille hurried over to him and they shook hands like friends who
+meet after a long separation. The reporter was presented to the company
+as a close young friend from Paris whom they had enjoyed so much during
+their latest visit to the City of Light. Everybody inquired for the
+latest word of Paris as of a dear acquaintance.
+
+“How is everybody at Maxim’s?” urged the excellent Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+Thaddeus, too, had been once in Paris and he returned with an
+enthusiastic liking for the French demoiselles.
+
+“Vos gogottes, monsieur,” he said, appearing very amiable and leaning
+on each word, with a guttural emphasis such as is common in the western
+provinces, “ah, vos gogottes!”
+
+Matrena Perovna tried to silence him, but Thaddeus insisted on his right
+to appreciate the fair sex away from home. He had a turgid, sentimental
+wife, always weeping and cramming her religious notions down his throat.
+
+Of course someone asked Rouletabille what he thought of Russia, but he
+had no more than opened his mouth to reply than Athanase Georgevitch
+closed it by interrupting:
+
+“Permettez! Permettez! You others, of the young generation, what do you
+know of it? You need to have lived a long time and in all its districts
+to appreciate Russia at its true value. Russia, my young sir, is as yet
+a closed book to you.”
+
+“Naturally,” Rouletabille answered, smiling.
+
+“Well, well, here’s your health! What I would point out to you first of
+all is that it is a good buyer of champagne, eh?”--and he gave a huge
+grin. “But the hardest drinker I ever knew was born on the banks of the
+Seine. Did you know him, Feodor Feodorovitch? Poor Charles Dufour, who
+died two years ago at fete of the officers of the Guard. He wagered at
+the end of the banquet that he could drink a glassful of champagne to
+the health of each man there. There were sixty when you came to count
+them. He commenced the round of the table and the affair went splendidly
+up to the fifty-eighth man. But at the fifty-ninth--think of the
+misfortune!--the champagne ran out! That poor, that charming, that
+excellent Charles took up a glass of vin dore which was in the glass
+of this fifty-ninth, wished him long life, drained the glass at one
+draught, had just time to murmur, ‘Tokay, 1807,’ and fell back dead! Ah,
+he knew the brands, my word! and he proved it to his last breath! Peace
+to his ashes! They asked what he died of. I knew he died because of the
+inappropriate blend of flavors. There should be discipline in all things
+and not promiscuous mixing. One more glass of champagne and he would
+have been drinking with us this evening. Your health, Matrena Petrovna.
+Champagne, Feodor Feodorovitch! Vive la France, monsieur! Natacha, my
+child, you must sing something. Boris will accompany you on the guzla.
+Your father will enjoy it.”
+
+All eyes turned toward Natacha as she rose.
+
+Rouletabille was struck by her serene beauty. That was the first
+enthralling impression, an impression so strong it astonished him, the
+perfect serenity, the supreme calm, the tranquil harmony of her noble
+features. Natacha was twenty. Heavy brown hair circled about er forehead
+and was looped about her ears, which were half-concealed. Her profile
+was clear-cut; her mouth was strong and revealed between red, firm lips
+the even pearliness of her teeth. She was of medium height. In walking
+she had the free, light step of the highborn maidens who, in primal
+times, pressed the flowers as they passed without crushing them. But all
+her true grace seemed to be concentrated in her eyes, which were deep
+and of a dark blue. The impression she made upon a beholder was very
+complex. And it would have been difficult to say whether the calm which
+pervaded every manifestation of her beauty was the result of conscious
+control or the most perfect ease.
+
+She took down the guzla and handed it to Boris, who struck some
+plaintive preliminary chords.
+
+“What shall I sing?” she inquired, raising her father’s hand from the
+back of the sofa where he rested and kissing it with filial tenderness.
+
+“Improvise,” said the general. “Improvise in French, for the sake of our
+guest.”
+
+“Oh, yes,” cried Boris; “improvise as you did the other evening.”
+
+He immediately struck a minor chord.
+
+Natacha looked fondly at her father as she sang:
+
+  “When the moment comes that parts us at the close of day,
+  when the Angel of Sleep covers you with azure wings;
+  “Oh, may your eyes rest from so many tears, and your oppressed
+        heart have calm;
+  “In each moment that we have together, Father dear, let our
+        souls feel harmony sweet and mystical;
+  “And when your thoughts may have flown to other worlds, oh, may
+        my image, at least, nestle within your sleeping eyes.”
+
+Natacha’s voice was sweet, and the charm of it subtly pervasive. The
+words as she uttered them seemed to have all the quality of a prayer and
+there were tears in all eyes, excepting those of Michael Korsakoff, the
+second orderly, whom Rouletabille appraised as a man with a rough heart
+not much open to sentiment.
+
+“Feodor Feodorovitch,” said this officer, when the young girl’s voice
+had faded away into the blending with the last note of the guzla,
+“Feodor Feodorovitch is a man and a glorious soldier who is able to
+sleep in peace, because he has labored for his country and for his
+Czar.”
+
+“Yes, yes. Labored well! A glorious soldier!” repeated Athanase
+Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch. “Well may he sleep peacefully.”
+
+“Natacha sang like an angel,” said Boris, the first orderly, in a
+tremulous voice.
+
+“Like an angel, Boris Nikolaievitch. But why did she speak of his heart
+oppressed? I don’t see that General Trebassof has a heart oppressed, for
+my part.” Michael Korsakoff spoke roughly as he drained his glass.
+
+“No, that’s so, isn’t it?” agreed the others.
+
+“A young girl may wish her father a pleasant sleep, surely!” said
+Matrena Petrovna, with a certain good sense. “Natacha has affected us
+all, has she not, Feodor?”
+
+“Yes, she made me weep,” declared the general. “But let us have
+champagne to cheer us up. Our young friend here will think we are
+chicken-hearted.”
+
+“Never think that,” said Rouletabille. “Mademoiselle has touched me
+deeply as well. She is an artist, really a great artist. And a poet.”
+
+“He is from Paris; he knows,” said the others.
+
+And all drank.
+
+Then they talked about music, with great display of knowledge concerning
+things operatic. First one, then another went to the piano and ran
+through some motif that the rest hummed a little first, then shouted in
+a rousing chorus. Then they drank more, amid a perfect fracas of talk
+and laughter. Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch walked across and
+kissed the general. Rouletabille saw all around him great children who
+amused themselves with unbelievable naivete and who drank in a fashion
+more unbelievable still. Matrena Petrovna smoked cigarettes of yellow
+tobacco incessantly, rising almost continually to make a hurried
+round of the rooms, and after having prompted the servants to greater
+watchfulness, sat and looked long at Rouletabille, who did not stir, but
+caught every word, every gesture of each one there. Finally, sighing,
+she sat down by Feodor and asked how his leg felt. Michael and Natacha,
+in a corner, were deep in conversation, and Boris watched them with
+obvious impatience, still strumming the guzla. But the thing that struck
+Rouletabille’s youthful imagination beyond all else was the mild face of
+the general. He had not imagined the terrible Trebassof with so paternal
+and sympathetic an expression. The Paris papers had printed redoubtable
+pictures of him, more or less authentic, but the arts of photography and
+engraving had cut vigorous, rough features of an official--who knew no
+pity. Such pictures were in perfect accord with the idea one naturally
+had of the dominating figure of the government at Moscow, the man who,
+during eight days--the Red Week--had made so many corpses of students
+and workmen that the halls of the University and the factories had
+opened their doors since in vain. The dead would have had to arise for
+those places to be peopled! Days of terrible battle where in one quarter
+or another of the city there was naught but massacre or burnings, until
+Matrena Petrovna and her step-daughter, Natacha (all the papers told of
+it), had fallen on their knees before the general and begged terms for
+the last of the revolutionaries, at bay in the Presnia quarter, and had
+been refused by him. “War is war,” had been his answer, with irrefutable
+logic. “How can you ask mercy for these men who never give it?” Be it
+said for the young men of the barricades that they never surrendered,
+and equally be it said for Trebassof that he necessarily shot them.
+“If I had only myself to consider,” the general had said to a Paris
+journalist, “I could have been gentle as a lamb with these unfortunates,
+and so I should not now myself be condemned to death. After all, I fail
+to see what they reproach me with. I have served my master as a brave
+and loyal subject, no more, and, after the fighting, I have let others
+ferret out the children that had hidden under their mothers’ skirts.
+Everybody talks of the repression of Moscow, but let us speak, my
+friend, of the Commune. There was a piece of work I would not have
+done, to massacre within a court an unresisting crowd of men, women and
+children. I am a rough and faithful soldier of His Majesty, but I am
+not a monster, and I have the feelings of a husband and father, my dear
+monsieur. Tell your readers that, if you care to, and do not surmise
+further about whether I appear to regret being condemned to death.”
+
+Certainly what stupefied Rouletabille now was this staunch figure of
+the condemned man who appeared so tranquilly to enjoy his life. When the
+general was not furthering the gayety of his friends he was talking with
+his wife and daughter, who adored him and continually fondled him, and
+he seemed perfectly happy. With his enormous grizzly mustache, his ruddy
+color, his keen, piercing eyes, he looked the typical spoiled father.
+
+The reporter studied all these widely-different types and made his
+observations while pretending to a ravenous appetite, which served,
+moreover, to fix him in the good graces of his hosts of the datcha des
+Iles. But, in reality, he passed the food to an enormous bull-dog
+under the table, in whose good graces he was also thus firmly planting
+himself. As Trebassof had prayed his companions to let his young friend
+satisfy his ravening hunger in peace, they did not concern themselves to
+entertain him. Then, too, the music served to distract attention from
+him, and at a moment somewhat later, when Matrena Petrovna turned to
+speak to the young man, she was frightened at not seeing him. Where had
+he gone? She went out into the veranda and looked. She did not dare to
+call. She walked into the grand-salon and saw the reporter just as he
+came out of the sitting-room.
+
+“Where were you?” she inquired.
+
+“The sitting-room is certainly charming, and decorated exquisitely,”
+ complimented Rouletabille. “It seems almost a boudoir.”
+
+“It does serve as a boudoir for my step-daughter, whose bedroom opens
+directly from it; you see the door there. It is simply for the present
+that the luncheon table is set there, because for some time the police
+have pre-empted the veranda.”
+
+“Is your dog a watch-dog, madame?” asked Rouletabille, caressing the
+beast, which had followed him.
+
+“Khor is faithful and had guarded us well hitherto.”
+
+“He sleeps now, then?”
+
+“Yes. Koupriane has him shut in the lodge to keep him from barking
+nights. Koupriane fears that if he is out he will devour one of the
+police who watch in the garden at night. I wanted him to sleep in the
+house, or by his master’s door, or even at the foot of the bed, but
+Koupriane said, ‘No, no; no dog. Don’t rely on the dog. Nothing is more
+dangerous than to rely on the dog. ‘Since then he has kept Khor locked
+up at night. But I do not understand Koupriane’s idea.”
+
+“Monsieur Koupriane is right,” said the reporter. “Dogs are useful only
+against strangers.”
+
+“Oh,” gasped the poor woman, dropping her eyes. “Koupriane certainly
+knows his business; he thinks of everything.”
+
+“Come,” she added rapidly, as though to hide her disquiet, “do not
+go out like that without letting me know. They want you in the
+dining-room.”
+
+“I must have you tell me right now about this attempt.”
+
+“In the dining-room, in the dining-room. In spite of myself,” she said
+in a low voice, “it is stronger than I am. I am not able to leave the
+general by himself while he is on the ground-floor.”
+
+She drew Rouletabille into the dining-room, where the gentlemen were now
+telling odd stories of street robberies amid loud laughter. Natacha was
+still talking with Michael Korsakoff; Boris, whose eyes never quitted
+them, was as pale as the wax on his guzla, which he rattled violently
+from time to time. Matrena made Rouletabille sit in a corner of the
+sofa, near her, and, counting on her fingers like a careful housewife
+who does not wish to overlook anything in her domestic calculations, she
+said:
+
+“There have been three attempts; the first two in Moscow. The first
+happened very simply. The general knew he had been condemned to
+death. They had delivered to him at the palace in the afternoon the
+revoluntionary poster which proclaimed his intended fate to the whole
+city and country. So Feodor, who was just about to ride into the city,
+dismissed his escort. He ordered horses put to a sleigh. I trembled and
+asked what he was going to do. He said he was going to drive quietly
+through all parts of the city, in order to show the Muscovites that a
+governor appointed according to law by the Little Father and who had in
+his conscience only the sense that he had done his full duty was not to
+be intimidated. It was nearly four o’clock, toward the end of a winter
+day that had been clear and bright, but very cold. I wrapped myself
+in my furs and took my seat beside him, and he said, ‘This is fine,
+Matrena; this will have a great effect on these imbeciles.’ So we
+started. At first we drove along the Naberjnaia. The sleigh glided like
+the wind. The general hit the driver a heavy blow in the back, crying,
+‘Slower, fool; they will think we are afraid,’ and so the horses
+were almost walking when, passing behind the Church of Protection and
+intercession, we reached the Place Rouge. Until then the few passers-by
+had looked at us, and as they recognized him, hurried along to keep
+him in view. At the Place Rouge there was only a little knot of women
+kneeling before the Virgin. As soon as these women saw us and recognized
+the equipage of the Governor, they dispersed like a flock of crows, with
+frightened cries. Feodor laughed so hard that as we passed under
+the vault of the Virgin his laugh seemed to shake the stones. I felt
+reassured, monsieur. Our promenade continued without any remarkable
+incident. The city was almost deserted. Everything lay prostrated under
+the awful blow of that battle in the street. Feodor said, ‘Ah, they give
+me a wide berth; they do not know how much I love them,” and all through
+that promenade he said many more charming and delicate things to me.
+
+“As we were talking pleasantly under our furs we came to la Place
+Koudrinsky, la rue Koudrinsky, to be exact. It was just four o’clock,
+and a light mist had commenced to mix with the sifting snow, and the
+houses to right and left were visible only as masses of shadow. We
+glided over the snow like a boat along the river in foggy calm. Then,
+suddenly, we heard piercing cries and saw shadows of soldiers rushing
+around, with movements that looked larger than human through the mist;
+their short whips looked enormous as they knocked some other shadows
+that we saw down like logs. The general stopped the sleigh and got out
+to see what was going on. I got out with him. They were soldiers of the
+famous Semenowsky regiment, who had two prisoners, a young man and a
+child. The child was being beaten on the nape of the neck. It writhed
+on the ground and cried in torment. It couldn’t have been more than nine
+years old. The other, the young man, held himself up and marched
+along without a single cry as the thongs fell brutally upon him. I was
+appalled. I did not give my husband time to open his mouth before I
+called to the subaltern who commanded the detachment, ‘You should be
+ashamed to strike a child and a Christian like that, which cannot defend
+itself.’ The general told him the same thing. Then the subaltern told
+us that the little child had just killed a lieutenant in the street by
+firing a revolver, which he showed us, and it was the biggest one I
+ever have seen, and must have been as heavy for that infant to lift as a
+small cannon. It was unbelievable.
+
+“‘And the other,’ demanded the general; ‘what has he done?’
+
+“‘He is a dangerous student,’ replied the subaltern, ‘who has delivered
+himself up as a prisoner because he promised the landlord of the house
+where he lives that he would do it to keep the house from being battered
+down with cannon.’
+
+“‘But that is right of him. Why do you beat him?’
+
+“‘Because he has told us he is a dangerous student.’
+
+“‘That is no reason,’ Feodor told him. ‘He will be shot if he deserves
+it, and the child also, but I forbid you to beat him. You have not been
+furnished with these whips in order to beat isolated prisoners, but to
+charge the crowd when it does not obey the governor’s orders. In such a
+case you are ordered “Charge,” and you know what to do. You understand?’
+Feodor said roughly. ‘I am General Trebassof, your governor.’
+
+“Feodor was thoroughly human in saying this. Ah, well, he was badly
+compensed for it, very badly, I tell you. The student was truly
+dangerous, because he had no sooner heard my husband say, ‘I am General
+Trebassof, your governor,’ than he cried, ‘Ah, is it you, Trebassoff’
+and drew a revolver from no one knows where and fired straight at
+the general, almost against his breast. But the general was not hit,
+happily, nor I either, who was by him and had thrown myself onto the
+student to disarm him and then was tossed about at the feet of the
+soldiers in the battle they waged around the student while the revolver
+was going off. Three soldiers were killed. You can understand that the
+others were furious. They raised me with many excuses and, all together,
+set to kicking the student in the loins and striking at him as he lay on
+the ground. The subaltern struck his face a blow that might have blinded
+him. Feodor hit the officer in the head with his fist and called,
+‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ The officer fell under the blow and
+Feodor himself carried him to the sleigh and laid him with the dead
+men. Then he took charge of the soldiers and led them to the barracks.
+I followed, as a sort of after-guard. We returned to the palace an hour
+later. It was quite dark by then, and almost at the entrance to the
+palace we were shot at by a group of revolutionaries who passed swiftly
+in two sleighs and disappeared in the darkness so fast that they could
+not be overtaken. I had a ball in my toque. The general had not been
+touched this time either, but our furs were ruined by the blood of the
+dead soldiers which they had forgotten to clean out of the sleigh. That
+was the first attempt, which meant little enough, after all, because it
+was fighting in the open. It was some days later that they commenced to
+try assassination.”
+
+At this moment Ermolai brought in four bottles of champagne and Thaddeus
+struck lightly on the piano.
+
+“Quickly, madame, the second attempt,” said Rouletabille, who was
+aking hasty notes on his cuff, never ceasing, meanwhile, to watch the
+convivial group and listening with both ears wide open to Matrena.
+
+“The second happened still in Moscow. We had had a jolly dinner because
+we thought that at last the good old days were back and good citizens
+could live in peace; and Boris had tried out the guzla singing songs of
+the Orel country to please me; he is so fine and sympathetic. Natacha
+had gone somewhere or other. The sleigh was waiting at the door and we
+went out and got in. Almost instantly there was a fearful noise, and we
+were thrown out into the snow, both the general and me. There remained
+no trace of sleigh or coachman; the two horses were disemboweled, two
+magnificent piebald horses, my dear young monsieur, that the general
+was so attached to. As to Feodor, he had that serious wound in his right
+leg; the calf was shattered. I simply had my shoulder a little wrenched,
+practically nothing. The bomb had been placed under the seat of the
+unhappy coachman, whose hat alone we found, in a pool of blood. From
+that attack the general lay two months in bed. In the second month they
+arrested two servants who were caught one night on the landing leading
+to the upper floor, where they had no business, and after that I sent
+at once for our old domestics in Orel to come and serve us. It
+was discovered that these detected servants were in touch with
+the revolutionaries, so they were hanged. The Emperor appointed a
+provisional governor, and now that the general was better we decided
+on a convalescence for him in the midi of France. We took train for
+St. Petersburg, but the journey started high fever in my husband and
+reopened the wound in his calf. The doctors ordered absolute rest and so
+we settled here in the datcha des Iles. Since then, not a day has passed
+without the general receiving an anonymous letter telling him that
+nothing can save him from the revenge of the revolutionaries. He is
+brave and only smiles over them, but for me, I know well that so long as
+we are in Russia we have not a moment’s security. So I watch him every
+minute and let no one approach him except his intimate friends and us
+of the family. I have brought an old gniagnia who watched me grow up,
+Ermolai, and the Orel servants. In the meantime, two months later, the
+third attempt suddenly occurred. It is certainly of them all the most
+frightening, because it is so mysterious, a mystery that has not yet,
+alas, been solved.”
+
+But Athanase Georgevitch had told a “good story” which raised so much
+hubbub that nothing else could be heard. Feodor Feodorovitch was so
+amused that he had tears in his eyes. Rouletabille said to himself
+as Matrena talked, “I never have seen men so gay, and yet they know
+perfectly they are apt to be blown up all together any moment.”
+
+General Trebassof, who had steadily watched Rouletabille, who, for that
+matter, had been kept in eye by everyone there, said:
+
+“Eh, eh, monsieur le journaliste, you find us very gay?”
+
+“I find you very brave,” said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+“How is that?” said Feodor Feodorovitch, smiling.
+
+“You must pardon me for thinking of the things that you seem to have
+forgotten entirely.”
+
+He indicated the general’s wounded leg.
+
+“The chances of war! the chances of war!” said the general. “A leg here,
+an arm there. But, as you see, I am still here. They will end by growing
+tired and leaving me in peace. Your health, my friend!”
+
+“Your health, general!”
+
+“You understand,” continued Feodor Feodorovitch, “there is no occasion
+to excite ourselves. It is our business to defend the empire at the
+peril of our lives. We find that quite natural, and there is no occasion
+to think of it. I have had terrors enough in other directions, not to
+speak of the terrors of love, that are more ferocious than you can
+yet imagine. Look at what they did to my poor friend the Chief of the
+Surete, Boichlikoff. He was commendable certainly. There was a brave
+man. Of an evening, when his work was over, he always left the bureau of
+the prefecture and went to join his wife and children in their apartment
+in the ruelle des Loups. Not a soldier! No guard! The others had every
+chance. One evening a score of revolutionaries, after having driven away
+the terrorized servants, mounted to his apartments. He was dining with
+his family. They knocked and he opened the door. He saw who they were,
+and tried to speak. They gave him no time. Before his wife and children,
+mad with terror and on their knees before the revolutionaries, they read
+him his death-sentence. A fine end that to a dinner!”
+
+As he listened Rouletabille paled and he kept his eyes on the door as
+if he expected to see it open of itself, giving access to ferocious
+Nihilists of whom one, with a paper in his hand, would read the sentence
+of death to Feodor Feodorovitch. Rouletabille’s stomach was not yet
+seasoned to such stories. He almost regretted, momentarily, having
+taken the terrible responsibility of dismissing the police. After what
+Koupriane had confided to him of things that had happened in this house,
+he had not hesitated to risk everything on that audacious decision, but
+all the same, all the same--these stories of Nihilists who appear at the
+end of a meal, death-sentence in hand, they haunted him, they upset him.
+Certainly it had been a piece of foolhardiness to dismiss the police!
+
+“Well,” he asked, conquering his misgivings and resuming, as always, his
+confidence in himself, “then, what did they do then, after reading the
+sentence?”
+
+“The Chief of the Surete knew he had no time to spare. He did not ask
+for it. The revolutionaries ordered him to bid his family farewell.
+He raised his wife, his children, clasped them, bade them be of good
+courage, then said he was ready. They took him into the street. They
+stood him against a wall. His wife and children watched from a window.
+A volley sounded. They descended to secure the body, pierced with
+twenty-five bullets.”
+
+“That was exactly the number of wounds that were made on the body of
+little Jacques Zloriksky,” came in the even tones of Natacha.
+
+“Oh, you, you always find an excuse,” grumbled the general. “Poor
+Boichlikoff did his duty, as I did mine.
+
+“Yes, papa, you acted like a soldier. That is what the revolutionaries
+ought not to forget. But have no fears for us, papa; because if they
+kill you we will all die with you.”
+
+“And gayly too,” declared Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+“They should come this evening. We are in form!”
+
+Upon which Athanase filled the glasses again.
+
+“None the less, permit me to say,” ventured the timber-merchant,
+Thaddeus Tchnitchnikof, timidly, “permit me to say that this Boichlikoff
+was very imprudent.”
+
+“Yes, indeed, very gravely imprudent,” agreed Rouletabille. “When a man
+has had twenty-five good bullets shot into the body of a child, he ought
+certainly to keep his home well guarded if he wishes to dine in peace.”
+
+He stammered a little toward the end of this, because it occurred to him
+that it was a little inconsistent to express such opinions, seeing what
+he had done with the guard over the general.
+
+“Ah,” cried Athanase Georgevitch, in a stage-struck voice, “Ah, it was
+not imprudence! It was contempt of death! Yes, it was contempt of death
+that killed him! Even as the contempt of death keeps us, at this moment,
+in perfect health. To you, ladies and gentlemen! Do you know anything
+lovelier, grander, in the world than contempt of death? Gaze on Feodor
+Feodorovitch and answer me. Superb! My word, superb! To you all! The
+revolutionaries who are not of the police are of the same mind regarding
+our heroes. They may curse the tchinownicks who execute the terrible
+orders given them by those higher up, but those who are not of the
+police (there are some, I believe)--these surely recognize that men like
+the Chief of the Surete our dead friend, are brave.”
+
+“Certainly,” endorsed the general. “Counting all things, they need more
+heroism for a promenade in a salon than a soldier on a battle-field.”
+
+“I have met some of these men,” continued Athanase in exalted vein. “I
+have found in all their homes the same--imprudence, as our young French
+friend calls it. A few days after the assassination of the Chief of
+Police in Moscow I was received by his successor in the same place where
+the assassination had occurred. He did not take the slightest precaution
+with me, whom he did not know at all, nor with men of the middle class
+who came to present their petitions, in spite of the fact that it was
+under precisely identical conditions that his predecessor had been
+slain. Before I left I looked over to where on the floor there had so
+recently occurred such agony. They had placed a rug there and on the rug
+a table, and on that table there was a book. Guess what book. ‘Women’s
+Stockings,’ by Willy! And--and then--Your health, Matrena Petrovna.
+What’s the odds!”
+
+“You yourselves, my friends,” declared the general, “prove your great
+courage by coming to share the hours that remain of my life with me.”
+
+“Not at all, not at all! It is war.”
+
+“Yes, it is war.”
+
+“Oh, there’s no occasion to pat us on the shoulder, Athanase,” insisted
+Thaddeus modestly. “What risk do we run? We are well guarded.”
+
+“We are protected by the finger of God,” declared Athanase, “because the
+police--well, I haven’t any confidence in the police.”
+
+Michael Korsakoff, who had been for a turn in the garden, entered during
+the remark.
+
+“Be happy, then, Athanase Georgevitch,” said he, “for there are now no
+police around the villa.”
+
+“Where are they?” inquired the timber-merchant uneasily.
+
+“An order came from Koupriane to remove them,” explained Matrena
+Petrovna, who exerted herself to appear calm.
+
+“And are they not replaced?” asked Michael.
+
+“No. It is incomprehensible. There must have been some confusion in the
+orders given.” And Matrena reddened, for she loathed a lie and it was
+in tribulation of spirit that she used this fable under Rouletabille’s
+directions.
+
+“Oh, well, all the better,” said the general. “It will give me pleasure
+to see my home ridded for a while of such people.”
+
+Athanase was naturally of the same mind as the general, and when
+Thaddeus and Ivan Petrovitch and the orderlies offered to pass the
+night at the villa and take the place of the absent police, Feodor
+Feodorovitch caught a gesture from Rouletabille which disapproved the
+idea of this new guard.
+
+“No, no,” cried the general emphatically. “You leave at the usual time.
+I want now to get back into the ordinary run of things, my word! To
+live as everyone else does. We shall be all right. Koupriane and I have
+arranged the matter. Koupriane is less sure of his men, after all,
+than I am of my servants. You understand me. I do not need to explain
+further. You will go home to bed--and we will all sleep. Those are the
+orders. Besides, you must remember that the guard-post is only a step
+from here, at the corner of the road, and we have only to give a signal
+to bring them all here. But--more secret agents or special police--no,
+no! Good-night. All of us to bed now!”
+
+They did not insist further. When Feodor had said, “Those are the
+orders,” there was room for nothing more, not even in the way of polite
+insistence.
+
+But before going to their beds all went into the veranda, where
+liqueurs were served by the brave Ermolai, as always. Matrena pushed
+the wheel-chair of the general there, and he kept repeating, “No, no. No
+more such people. No more police. They only bring trouble.”
+
+“Feodor! Feodor!” sighed Matrena, whose anxiety deepened in spite of all
+she could do, “they watched over your dear life.”
+
+“Life is dear to me only because of you, Matrena Petrovna.”
+
+“And not at all because of me, papa?” said Natacha.
+
+“Oh, Natacha!”
+
+He took both her hands in his. It was an affecting glimpse of family
+intimacy.
+
+From time to time, while Ermolai poured the liqueurs, Feodor struck his
+band on the coverings over his leg.
+
+“It gets better,” said he. “It gets better.”
+
+Then melancholy showed in his rugged face, and he watched night deepen
+over the isles, the golden night of St. Petersburg. It was not quite yet
+the time of year for what they call the golden nights there, the “white
+nights,” nights which never deepen to darkness, but they were already
+beautiful in their soft clarity, caressed, here by the Gulf of Finland,
+almost at the same time by the last and the first rays of the sun, by
+twilight and dawn.
+
+From the height of the veranda one of the most beautiful bits of the
+isles lay in view, and the hour was so lovely that its charm thrilled
+these people, of whom several, as Thaddeus, were still close to nature.
+It was he, first, who called to Natacha:
+
+“Natacha! Natacha! Sing us your ‘Soir des Iles.’”
+
+Natacha’s voice floated out upon the peace of the islands under the
+dim arched sky, light and clear as a night rose, and the guzla of Boris
+accompanied it. Natacha sang:
+
+“This is the night of the Isles--at the north of the world. The sky
+presses in its stainless arms the bosom of earth, Night kisses the rose
+that dawn gave to the twilight. And the night air is sweet and fresh
+from across the shivering gulf, Like the breath of young girls from the
+world still farther north. Beneath the two lighted horizons, sinking and
+rising at once, The sun rolls rebounding from the gods at the north of
+the world. In this moment, beloved, when in the clear shadows of this
+rose-stained evening I am here alone with you, Respond, respond with a
+heart less timid to the holy, accustomed  cry of ‘Good-evening.’”
+
+Ah, how Boris Nikolaievitch and Michael Korsakoff watched her as she
+sang! Truly, no one ever can guess the anger or the love that broods in
+a Slavic heart under a soldier’s tunic, whether the soldier wisely plays
+at the guzla, as the correct Boris, or merely lounges, twirling his
+mustache with his manicured and perfumed fingers, like Michael, the
+indifferent.
+
+Natacha ceased singing, but all seemed to be listening to her still--the
+convivial group on the terrace appeared to be held in charmed attention,
+and the porcelain statuettes of men on the lawn, according to the mode
+of the Iles, seemed to lift on their short legs the better to hear pass
+the sighing harmony of Natacha in the rose nights at the north of the
+world.
+
+Meanwhile Matrena wandered through the house from cellar to attic,
+watching over her husband like a dog on guard, ready to bite, to throw
+itself in the way of danger, to receive the blows, to die for its
+master--and hunting for Rouletabille, who had disappeared again.
+
+
+
+
+III. THE WATCH
+
+She went out to caution the servants to a strict watch, armed to the
+teeth, before the gate all night long, and she crossed the deserted
+garden. Under the veranda the schwitzar was spreading a mattress for
+Ermolai. She asked him if he had seen the young Frenchman anywhere, and
+after the answer, could only say to herself, “Where is he, then?” Where
+had Rouletabille gone? The general, whom she had carried up to his
+room on her back, without any help, and had helped into bed without
+assistance, was disturbed by this singular disappearance. Had someone
+already carried off “their” Rouletabille? Their friends were gone and
+the orderlies had taken leave without being able to say where this boy
+of a journalist had gone. But it would be foolish to worry about the
+disappearance of a Journalist, they had said. That kind of man--these
+journalists--came, went, arrived when one least expected them, and
+quitted their company--even the highest society--without formality. It
+was what they called in France “leaving English fashion.” However,
+it appeared it was not meant to be impolite. Perhaps he had gone to
+telegraph. A journalist had to keep in touch with the telegraph at all
+hours. Poor Matrena Petrovna roamed the solitary garden in tumult of
+heart. There was the light in the general’s window on the first floor.
+There were lights in the basement from the kitchens. There was a light
+on the ground-floor near the sitting-room, from Natacha’s chamber
+window. Ah, the night was hard to bear. And this night the shadows
+weighed heavier than ever on the valiant breast of Matrena. As she
+breathed she felt as though she lifted all the weight of the threatening
+night. She examined everything--everything. All was shut tight, was
+perfectly secure, and there was no one within excepting people she was
+absolutely sure of--but whom, all the same, she did not allow to go
+anywhere in the house excepting where their work called them. Each in
+his place. That made things surer. She wished each one could remain
+fixed like the porcelain statues of men out on the lawn. Even as she
+thought it, here at her feet, right at her very feet, a shadow of one
+of the porcelain men moved, stretched itself out, rose to its knees,
+grasped her skirt and spoke in the voice of Rouletabille. Ah, good! it
+was Rouletabille. “Himself, dear madame; himself.”
+
+“Why is Ermolai in the veranda? Send him back to the kitchens and tell
+the schwitzar to go to bed. The servants are enough for an ordinary
+guard outside. Then you go in at once, shut the door, and don’t concern
+yourself about me, dear madame. Good-night.”
+
+Rouletabille had resumed, in the shadows, among the other porcelain
+figures, his pose of a porcelain man.
+
+Matrena Petrovna did as she was told, returned to the house, spoke to
+the schwitzar, who removed to the lodge with Ermolai, and their mistress
+closed the outside door. She had closed long before the door of the
+kitchen stair which allowed the domestics to enter the villa from below.
+Down there each night the devoted gniagnia and the faithful Ermolai
+watched in turn.
+
+Within the villa, now closed, there were on the ground-floor only
+Matrena herself and her step-daughter Natacha, who slept in the chamber
+off the sitting-room, and, above on the first floor, the general asleep,
+or who ought to be asleep if he had taken his potion. Matrena remained
+in the darkness of the drawing-room, her dark-lantern in her hand.
+All her nights passed thus, gliding from door to door, from chamber to
+chamber, watching over the watch of the police, not daring to stop her
+stealthy promenade even to throw herself on the mattress that she had
+placed across the doorway of her husband’s chamber. Did she ever sleep?
+She herself could hardly say. Who else could, then? A tag of sleep here
+and there, over the arm of a chair, or leaning against the wall, waked
+always by some noise that she heard or dreamed, some warning, perhaps,
+that she alone had heard. And to-night, to-night there is Rouletabille’s
+alert guard to help her, and she feels a little less the aching terror
+of watchfulness, until there surges back into her mind the recollection
+that the police are no longer there. Was he right, this young man?
+Certainly she could not deny that some way she feels more confidence now
+that the police are gone. She does not have to spend her time watching
+their shadows in the shadows, searching the darkness, the arm-chairs,
+the sofas, to rouse them, to appeal in low tones to all they held
+binding, by their own name and the name of their father, to promise them
+a bonus that would amount to something if they watched well, to count
+them in order to know where they all were, and, suddenly, to throw full
+in their face the ray of light from her little dark-lantern in order to
+be sure, absolutely sure, that she was face to face with them, one of
+the police, and not with some other, some other with an infernal machine
+under his arm. Yes, she surely had less work now that she had no longer
+to watch the police. And she had less fear!
+
+She thanked the young reporter for that. Where was he? Did he remain in
+the pose of a porcelain statue all this time out there on the lawn? She
+peered through the lattice of the veranda shutters and looked anxiously
+out into the darkened garden. Where could he be? Was that he, down
+yonder, that crouching black heap with an unlighted pipe in his mouth?
+No, no. That, she knew well, was the dwarf she genuinely loved, her
+little domovoi-doukh, the familiar spirit of the house, who watched with
+her over the general’s life and thanks to whom serious injury had not
+yet befallen Feodor Feodorovitch--one could not regard a mangled leg
+that seriously. Ordinarily in her own country (she was from the Orel
+district) one did not care to see the domovoi-doukh appear in flesh and
+blood. When she was little she was always afraid that she would come
+upon him around a turn of the path in her father’s garden. She always
+thought of him as no higher than that, seated back on his haunches and
+smoking his pipe. Then, after she was married, she had suddenly run
+across him at a turning in the bazaar at Moscow. He was just as she
+had imagined him, and she had immediately bought him, carried him
+home herself and placed him, with many precautions, for he was of very
+delicate porcelain, in the vestibule of the palace. And in leaving
+Moscow she had been careful not to leave him there. She had carried him
+herself in a case and had placed him herself on the lawn of the datcha
+des Iles, that he might continue to watch over her happiness and over
+the life of her Feodor. And in order that he should not be bored,
+eternally smoking his pipe all alone, she had surrounded him with a
+group of little porcelain genii, after the fashion of the Jardins des
+Iles. Lord! how that young Frenchman had frightened her, rising suddenly
+like that, without warning, on the lawn. She had believed for a moment
+that it was the domovoi-doukh himself rising to stretch his legs.
+Happily he had spoken at once and she had recognized his voice. And
+besides, her domovoi surely would not speak French. Ah! Matrena Petrovna
+breathed freely now. It seemed to her, this night, that there were two
+little familiar genii watching over the house. And that was worth more
+than all the police in the world, surely. How wily that little fellow
+was to order all those men away. There was something it was necessary
+to know; it was necessary therefore that nothing should be in the way
+of learning it. As things were now, the mystery could operate without
+suspicion or interference. Only one man watched it, and he had not the
+air of watching. Certainly Rouletabille had not the air of constantly
+watching anything. He had the manner, out in the night, of an easy
+little man in porcelain, neither more nor less, yet he could
+see everything--if anything were there to see--and he could hear
+everything--if there were anything to hear. One passed beside him
+without suspecting him, and men might talk to each other without an idea
+that he heard them, and even talk to themselves according to the habit
+people have sometimes when they think themselves quite alone. All the
+guests had departed thus, passing close by him, almost brushing him,
+had exchanged their “Adieus,” their “Au revoirs,” and all their final,
+drawn-out farewells. That dear little living domovoi certainly was a
+rogue! Oh, that dear little domovoi who had been so affected by the
+tears of Matrena Petrovna! The good, fat, sentimental, heroic woman
+longed to hear, just then, his reassuring voice.
+
+“It is I. Here I am,” said the voice of her little living familiar
+spirit at that instant, and she felt her skirt grasped. She waited
+for what he should say. She felt no fear. Yet she had supposed he was
+outside the house. Still, after all, she was not too astonished that he
+was within. He was so adroit! He had entered behind her, in the shadow
+of her skirts, on all-fours, and had slipped away without anyone
+noticing him, while she was speaking to her enormous, majestic
+schwitzar.
+
+“So you were here?” she said, taking his hand and pressing it nervously
+in hers.
+
+“Yes, yes. I have watched you closing the house. It is a task well-done,
+certainly. You have not forgotten anything.”
+
+“But where were you, dear little demon? I have been into all the
+corners, and my hands did not touch you.”
+
+“I was under the table set with hors-d’oeuvres in the sitting-room.”
+
+“Ah, under the table of zakouskis! I have forbidden them before now
+to spread a long hanging cloth there, which obliges me to kick my foot
+underneath casually in order to be sure there is no one beneath. It is
+imprudent, very imprudent, such table-cloths. And under the table of
+zakouskis have you been able to see or hear anything?”
+
+“Madame, do you think that anyone could possibly see or hear anything in
+the villa when you are watching it alone, when the general is asleep and
+your step-daughter is preparing for bed?”
+
+“No. No. I do not believe so. I do not. No, oh, Christ!”
+
+They talked thus very low in the dark, both seated in a corner of the
+sofa, Rouletabille’s hand held tightly in the burning hands of Matrena
+Petrovna.
+
+She sighed anxiously. “And in the garden--have you heard anything?”
+
+“I heard the officer Boris say to the officer Michael, in French, ‘Shall
+we return at once to the villa?’ The other replied in Russian in a way I
+could see was a refusal. Then they had a discussion in Russian which I,
+naturally, could not understand. But from the way they talked I gathered
+that they disagreed and that no love was lost between them.”
+
+“No, they do not love each other. They both love Natacha.”
+
+“And she, which one of them does she love? It is necessary to tell me.”
+
+“She pretends that she loves Boris, and I believe she does, and yet she
+is very friendly with Michael and often she goes into nooks and corners
+to chat with him, which makes Boris mad with jealousy. She has forbidden
+Boris to speak to her father about their marriage, on the pretext that
+she does not wish to leave her father now, while each day, each minute
+the general’s life is in danger.”
+
+“And you, madame--do you love your step-daughter?” brutally inquired the
+reporter.
+
+“Yes--sincerely,” replied Matrena Petrovna, withdrawing her hand from
+those of Rouletabille.
+
+“And she--does she love you?”
+
+“I believe so, monsieur, I believe so sincerely. Yes, she loves me,
+and there is not any reason why she should not love me. I
+believe--understand me thoroughly, because it comes from my heart--that
+we all here in this house love one another. Our friends are old proved
+friends. Boris has been orderly to my husband for a very long time.
+We do not share any of his too-modern ideas, and there were many
+discussions on the duty of soldiers at the time of the massacres. I
+reproached him with being as womanish as we were in going down on his
+knees to the general behind Natacha and me, when it became necessary to
+kill all those poor moujiks of Presnia. It was not his role. A soldier
+is a soldier. My husband raised him roughly and ordered him, for his
+pains, to march at the head of the troops. It was right. What else could
+he do? The general already had enough to fight against, with the whole
+revolution, with his conscience, with the natural pity in his heart of
+a brave man, and with the tears and insupportable moanings, at such a
+moment, of his daughter and his wife. Boris understood and obeyed him,
+but, after the death of the poor students, he behaved again like a woman
+in composing those verses on the heroes of the barricades; don’t you
+think so? Verses that Natacha and he learned by heart, working together,
+when they were surprised at it by the general. There was a terrible
+scene. It was before the next-to-the-last attack. The general then had
+the use of both legs. He stamped his feet and fairly shook the house.”
+
+“Madame,” said Rouletabille, “a propos of the attacks, you must tell me
+about the third.”
+
+As he said this, leaning toward her, Matrena Petrovna ejaculated a
+“Listen!” that made him rigid in the night with ear alert. What had she
+heard? For him, he had heard nothing.
+
+“You hear nothing?” she whispered to him with an effort. “A tick-tack?”
+
+“No, I hear nothing.”
+
+“You know--like the tick-tack of a clock. Listen.”
+
+“How can you hear the tick-tack? I’ve noticed that no clocks are running
+here.”
+
+“Don’t you understand? It is so that we shall be able to hear the
+tick-tack better.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I understand. But I do not hear anything.”
+
+“For myself, I think I hear the tick-tack all the time since the last
+attempt. It haunts my ears, it is frightful, to say to one’s self: There
+is clockwork somewhere, just about to reach the death-tick--and not to
+know where, not to know where! When the police were here I made them
+all listen, and I was not sure even when they had all listened and said
+there was no tick-tack. It is terrible to hear it in my ear any moment
+when I least expect it. Tick-tack! Tick-tack! It is the blood beating
+in my ear, for instance, hard, as if it struck on a sounding-board. Why,
+here are drops of perspiration on my hands! Listen!”
+
+“Ah, this time someone is talking--is crying,” said the young man.
+
+“Sh-h-h!” And Rouletabille felt the rigid hand of Matrena Petrovna on
+his arm. “It is the general. The general is dreaming!”
+
+She drew him into the dining-room, into a corner where they could no
+longer hear the moanings. But all the doors that communicated with the
+dining-room, the drawing-room and the sitting-room remained open behind
+him, by the secret precaution of Rouletabille.
+
+He waited while Matrena, whose breath he heard come hard, was a little
+behind. In a moment, quite talkative, and as though she wished to
+distract Rouletabille’s attention from the sounds above, the broken
+words and sighs, she continued:
+
+“See, you speak of clocks. My husband has a watch which strikes. Well,
+I have stopped his watch because more than once I have been startled by
+hearing the tick-tack of his watch in his waistcoat-pocket. Koupriane
+gave me that advice one day when he was here and had pricked his ears
+at the noise of the pendulums, to stop all my watches and clocks so that
+there would be no chance of confusing them with the tick-tack that might
+come from an infernal machine planted in some corner. He spoke from
+experience, my dear little monsieur, and it was by his order that all
+the clocks at the Ministry, on the Naberjnaia, were stopped, my dear
+little friend. The Nihilists, he told me, often use clockworks to set
+off their machines at the time they decide on. No one can guess all the
+inventions that they have, those brigands. In the same way, Koupriane
+advised me to take away all the draught-boards from the fireplaces. By
+that precaution they were enabled to avoid a terrible disaster at the
+Ministry near the Pont-des-chantres, you know, petit demovoi? They saw a
+bomb just as it was being lowered into the fire-place of the minister’s
+cabinet.* The Nihilists held it by a cord and were up on the roof
+letting it down the chimney. One of them was caught, taken to
+Schlusselbourg and hanged. Here you can see that all the
+draught-boards of the fireplaces are cleared away.”
+
+     *Actual attack on Witte.
+
+“Madame,” interrupted Rouletabille (Matrena Petrovna did not know that
+no one ever succeeded in distracting Rouletabille’s attention), “madame,
+someone moans still, upstairs.”
+
+“Oh, that is nothing, my little friend. It is the general, who has bad
+nights. He cannot sleep without a narcotic, and that gives him a fever.
+I am going to tell you now how the third attack came about. And then you
+will understand, by the Virgin Mary, how it is I have yet, always have,
+the tick-tack in my ears.
+
+“One evening when the general had got to sleep and I was in my own room,
+I heard distinctly the tick-tack of clockwork operating. All the clocks
+had been stopped, as Koupriane advised, and I had made an excuse to send
+Feodor’s great watch to the repairer. You can understand how I felt
+when I heard that tick-tack. I was frenzied. I turned my head in all
+directions, and decided that the sound came from my husband’s chamber. I
+ran there. He still slept, man that he is! The tick-tack was there. But
+where? I turned here and there like a fool. The chamber was in darkness
+and it seemed absolutely impossible for me to light a lamp because I
+thought I could not take the time for fear the infernal machine would go
+off in those few seconds. I threw myself on the floor and listened
+under the bed. The noise came from above. But where? I sprang to the
+fireplace, hoping that, against my orders, someone had started the
+mantel-clock. No, it was not that! It seemed to me now that the
+tick-tack came from the bed itself, that the machine was in the bed. The
+general awaked just then and cried to me, ‘What is it, Matrena? What are
+you doing?’ And he raised himself in bed, while I cried, ‘Listen! Hear
+the tick-tack. Don’t you hear the tick-tack?’ I threw myself upon him
+and gathered him up in my arms to carry him, but I trembled too much,
+was too weak from fear, and fell back with him onto the bed, crying,
+‘Help!’ He thrust me away and said roughly, ‘Listen.’ The frightful
+tick-tack was behind us now, on the table. But there was nothing on the
+table, only the night-light, the glass with the potion in it, and a
+gold vase where I had placed with my own hands that morning a cluster
+of grasses and wild flowers that Ermolai had brought that morning on his
+return from the Orel country. With one bound I was on the table and at
+the flowers. I struck my fingers among the grasses and the flowers, and
+felt a resistance. The tick-tack was in the bouquet! I took the bouquet
+in both hands, opened the window and threw it as far as I could into the
+garden. At the same moment the bomb burst with a terrible noise, giving
+me quite a deep wound in the hand. Truly, my dear little domovoi, that
+day we had been very near death, but God and the Little Father watched
+over us.”
+
+And Matrena Petrovna made the sign of the cross.
+
+“All the windows of the house were broken. In all, we escaped with the
+fright and a visit from the glazier, my little friend, but I certainly
+believed that all was over.”
+
+“And Mademoiselle Natacha?” inquired Rouletabille. “She must also have
+been terribly frightened, because the whole house must have rocked.”
+
+“Surely. But Natacha was not here that night. It was a Saturday. She
+had been invited to the soiree du ‘Michel’ by the parents of Boris
+Nikolaievitch, and she slept at their house, after supper at the Ours,
+as had been planned. The next day, when she learned the danger the
+general had escaped, she trembled in every limb. She threw herself in
+her father’s arms, weeping, which was natural enough, and declared that
+she never would go away from him again. The general told her how I had
+managed. Then she pressed me to her heart, saying that she never would
+forget such an action, and that she loved me more than if I were truly
+her mother. It was all in vain that during the days following we sought
+to understand how the infernal machine had been placed in the bouquet
+of wild flowers. Only the general’s friends that you saw this evening,
+Natacha and I had entered the general’s chamber during the day or in
+the evening. No servant, no chamber-maid, had been on that floor. In
+the day-time as well as all night long that entire floor is closed and I
+have the keys. The door of the servants’ staircase which opens onto that
+floor, directly into the general’s chamber, is always locked and barred
+on the inside with iron. Natacha and I do the chamber work. There is no
+way of taking greater precautions. Three police agents watched over
+us night and day. The night of the bouquet two had spent their time
+watching around the house, and the third lay on the sofa in the veranda.
+Then, too, we found all the doors and windows of the villa shut tight.
+In such circumstances you can judge whether my anguish was not deeper
+than any I had known hitherto. Because to whom, henceforth, could we
+trust ourselves? what and whom could we believe? what and whom could we
+watch? From that day, no other person but Natacha and me have the right
+to go to the first floor. The general’s chamber was forbidden to his
+friends. Anyway, the general improved, and soon had the pleasure of
+receiving them himself at his table. I carry the general down and take
+him to his room again on my back. I do not wish anyone to help. I am
+strong enough for that. I feel that I could carry him to the end of the
+world if that would save him. Instead of three police, we had ten; five
+outside, five inside. The days went well enough, but the nights were
+frightful, because the shadows of the police that I encountered always
+made me fear that I was face to face with the Nihilists. One night I
+almost strangled one with my hand. It was after that incident that we
+arranged with Koupriane that the agents who watched at night, inside,
+should stay placed in the veranda, after having, at the end of the
+evening, made complete examination of everything. They were not to leave
+the veranda unless they heard a suspicious noise or I called to them.
+And it was after that arrangement that the incident of the floor
+happened, that has puzzled so both Koupriane and me.”
+
+“Pardon, madame,” interrupted Rouletabille, “but the agents, during the
+examination of everything, never went to the bedroom floor?”
+
+“No, my child, there is only myself and Natacha, I repeat, who, since
+the bouquet, go there.”
+
+“Well, madame, it is necessary to take me there at once.”
+
+“At once!”
+
+“Yes, into the general’s chamber.”
+
+“But he is sleeping, my child. Let me tell you exactly how the affair
+of the floor happened, and you will know as much of it as I and as
+Koupriane.”
+
+“To the general’s chamber at once.”
+
+She took both his hands and pressed them nervously. “Little friend!
+Little friend! One hears there sometimes things which are the secret of
+the night! You understand me?”
+
+“To the general’s chamber, at once, madame.”
+
+Abruptly she decided to take him there, agitated, upset as she was by
+ideas and sentiments which held her without respite between the wildest
+inquietude and the most imprudent audacity.
+
+
+
+
+IV. “THE YOUTH OF MOSCOW IS DEAD”
+
+Rouletabille let himself be led by Matrena through the night, but he
+stumbled and his awkward hands struck against various things. The ascent
+to the first floor was accomplished in profound silence. Nothing broke
+it except that restless moaning which had so affected the young man just
+before.
+
+The tepid warmth, the perfume of a woman’s boudoir, then, beyond,
+through two doors opening upon the dressing-room which lay between
+Matrena’s chamber and Feodor’s, the dim luster of a night-lamp showed
+the bed where was stretched the sleeping tyrant of Moscow. Ah, he was
+frightening to see, with the play of faint yellow light and diffused
+shadows upon him. Such heavy-arched eyebrows, such an aspect of pain and
+menace, the massive jaw of a savage come from the plains of Tartary to
+be the Scourge of God, the stiff, thick, spreading beard. This was a
+form akin to the gallery of old nobles at Kasan, and young Rouletabille
+imagined him as none other than Ivan the Terrible himself. Thus appeared
+as he slept the excellent Feodor Feodorovitch, the easy, spoiled father
+of the family table, the friend of the advocate celebrated for his feats
+with knife and fork and of the bantering timber-merchant and amiable
+bear-hunter, the joyous Thaddeus and Athanase; Feodor, the faithful
+spouse of Matrena Petrovna and the adored papa of Natacha, a brave
+man who was so unfortunate as to have nights of cruel sleeplessness or
+dreams more frightful still.
+
+At that moment a hoarse sigh heaved his huge chest in an uneven
+rhythm, and Rouletabille, leaning in the doorway of the dressing-room,
+watched--but it was no longer the general that he watched, it was
+something else, lower down, beside the wall, near the door, and it was
+that which set him tiptoeing so lightly across the floor that it gave
+no sound. There was no slightest sound in the chamber, except the heavy
+breathing lifting the rough chest. Behind Rouletabille Matrena raised
+her arms, as though she wished to hold him back, because she did not
+know where he was going. What was he doing? Why did he stoop thus beside
+the door and why did he press his thumb all along the floor at the
+doorway? He rose again and returned. He passed again before the bed,
+where rumbled now, like the bellows of a forge, the respiration of the
+sleeper. Matrena grasped Rouletabille by the hand. And she had already
+hurried him into the dressing-room when a moan stopped them.
+
+“The youth of Moscow is dead!”
+
+It was the sleeper speaking. The mouth which had given the stringent
+orders moaned. And the lamentation was still a menace. In the haunted
+sleep thrust upon that man by the inadequate narcotic the words Feodor
+Feodorovitch spoke were words of mourning and pity. This perfect fiend
+of a soldier, whom neither bullets nor bombs could intimidate, had a way
+of saying words which transformed their meaning as they came from his
+terrible mouth. The listeners could not but feel absorbed in the tones
+of the brutal victor.
+
+Matrena Petrovna and Rouletabille had leant their two shadows, blended
+one into the other, against the open doorway just beyond the gleam of
+the night-lamp, and they heard with horror:
+
+“The youth of Moscow is dead! They have cleared away the corpses. There
+is nothing but ruin left. The Kremlin itself has shut its gates--that it
+may not see. The youth of Moscow is dead!”
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch’s fist shook above his bed; it seemed that he was
+about to strike, to kill again, and Rouletabille felt Matrena trembling
+against him, while he trembled as well before the fearful vision of the
+killer in the Red Week!
+
+Feodor heaved an immense sigh and his breast descended under the
+bed-clothes, the fist relaxed and fell, the great head lay over on its
+ear. There was silence. Had he repose at last? No, no. He sighed, he
+choked anew, he tossed on his couch like the damned in torment, and
+the words written by his daughter--by his daughter--blazed in his eyes,
+which now were wide open--words written on the wall, that he read on the
+wall, written in blood.
+
+  “The youth of Moscow is dead!  They had gone so young into the
+     fields and into the mines,
+  And they had not found a single corner of the Russian land where
+     there were not moanings.
+  Now the youth of Moscow is dead and no more moanings are heard,
+  Because those for whom all youth died do not dare even to moan
+     any more.
+
+But--what? The voice of Feodor lost its threatening tone. His breath
+came as from a weeping child. And it was with sobs in his throat that he
+said the last verse, the verse written by his daughter in the album, in
+red letters:
+
+  “The last barricade had standing there the girl of eighteen
+     winters, the virgin of Moscow, flower of the snow.
+  Who gave her kisses to the workmen struck by the bullets
+     from the soldiers of the Czar;
+  “She aroused the admiration of the very soldiers who, weeping,
+     killed her:
+  “What killing!  All the houses shuttered, the windows with heavy
+     eyelids of plank in order not to see!--
+  “And the Kremlin itself has closed its gates--that it may
+     not see.
+  “The youth of Moscow is dead!”
+
+“Feodor! Feodor!”
+
+She had caught him in her arms, holding him fast, comforting him while
+still he raved, “The youth of Moscow is dead,” and appeared to thrust
+away with insensate gestures a crowd of phantoms. She crushed him to
+her breast, she put her hands over his mouth to make him stop, but he,
+saying, “Do you hear? Do you hear? What do they say? They say nothing,
+now. What a tangle of bodies under the sleigh, Matrena! Look at those
+frozen legs of those poor girls we pass, sticking out in all directions,
+like logs, from under their icy, blooded skirts. Look, Matrena!”
+
+And then came further delirium uttered in Russian, which was all the
+more terrible to Rouletabille because he could not comprehend it.
+
+Then, suddenly, Feodor became silent and thrust away Matrena Petrovna.
+
+“It is that abominable narcotic,” he said with an immense sigh. “I’ll
+drink no more of it. I do not wish to drink it.”
+
+With one hand he pointed to a large glass on the table beside him, still
+half full of a soporific mixture with which he moistened his lips each
+time he woke; with the other hand he wiped the perspiration from his
+face. Matrena Petrovna stayed trembling near him, suddenly overpowered
+by the idea that he might discover there was someone there behind the
+door, who had seen and heard the sleep of General Trebassof! Ah, if he
+learned that, everything was over. She might say her prayers; she should
+die.
+
+But Rouletabille was careful to give no sign. He barely breathed. What
+a nightmare! He understood now the emotion of the general’s friends when
+Natacha had sung in her low, sweet voice, “Good-night. May your eyes
+have rest from tears and calm re-enter your heart oppressed.” The
+friends had certainly been made aware, by Matrena’s anxious talking, of
+the general’s insomnia, and they could not repress their tears as they
+listened to the poetic wish of charming Natacha. “All the same,” thought
+Rouletabille, “no one could imagine what I have just seen. They are not
+dead for everyone in the world, the youths of Moscow, and every night I
+know now a chamber where in the glow of the night-lamp they rise--they
+rise--they rise!” and the young man frankly, naively regretted to have
+intruded where he was; to have penetrated, however unintentionally, into
+an affair which, after all, concerned only the many dead and the one
+living. Why had he come to put himself between the dead and the living?
+It might be said to him: “The living has done his whole heroic duty,”
+ but the dead, what else was it that they had done?
+
+Ah, Rouletabille cursed his curiosity, for--he saw it now--it was the
+desire to approach the mystery revealed by Koupriane and to penetrate
+once more, through all the besetting dangers, an astounding and perhaps
+monstrous enigma, that had brought him to the threshold of the datcha
+des Iles, which had placed him in the trembling hands of Matrena
+Petrovna in promising her his help. He had shown pity, certainly, pity
+for the delirious distress of that heroic woman. But there had been more
+curiosity than pity in his motives. And now he must pay, because it was
+too late now to withdraw, to say casually, “I wash my hands of it.” He
+had sent away the police and he alone remained between the general
+and the vengeance of the dead! He might desert, perhaps! That one idea
+brought him to himself, roused all his spirit. Circumstances had brought
+him into a camp that he must defend at any cost, unless he was afraid!
+
+The general slept now, or, at least, with eyelids closed simulated
+sleep, doubtless in order to reassure poor Matrena who, on her knees
+beside his pillow, had retained the hand of her terrible husband in her
+own. Shortly she rose and rejoined Rouletabille in her chamber. She
+took him then to a little guest-chamber where she urged him to get some
+sleep. He replied that it was she who needed rest. But, agitated still
+by what had just happened, she babbled:
+
+“No, no! after such a scene I would have nightmares myself as well. Ah,
+it is dreadful! Appalling! Appalling! Dear little monsieur, it is the
+secret of the night. The poor man! Poor unhappy man! He cannot tear his
+thoughts away from it. It is his worst and unmerited punishment, this
+translation that Natacha has made of Boris’s abominable verses. He knows
+them by heart, they are in his brain and on his tongue all night long,
+in spite of narcotics, and he says over and over again all the time, ‘It
+is my daughter who has written that!--my daughter!--my daughter!’ It is
+enough to wring all the tears from one’s body--that an aide-de-camp of a
+general, who himself has killed the youth of Moscow, is allowed to write
+such verses and that Natacha should take it upon herself to translate
+them into lovely poetic French for her album. It is hard to account for
+what they do nowadays, to our misery.”
+
+She ceased, for just then they heard the floor creak under a step
+downstairs. Rouletabille stopped Matrena short and drew his revolver. He
+wished to creep down alone, but he had not time. As the floor creaked
+a second time, Matrena’s anguished voice called down the staircase
+in Russian, “Who is there?” and immediately the calm voice of Natacha
+answered something in the same language. Then Matrena, trembling more
+and more, and very much excited keeping steadily to the same place as
+though she had been nailed to the step of the stairway, said in French,
+“Yes, all is well; your father is resting. Good-night, Natacha.” They
+heard Natacha’s step cross the drawing-room and the sitting-room. Then
+the door of her chamber closed. Matrena and Rouletabille descended,
+holding their breath. They reached the dining-room and Matrena played
+her dark-lantern on the sofa where the general always reclined. The sofa
+was in its usual place on the carpet. She pushed it back and raised the
+carpet, laying the floor bare. Then she got onto her knees and examined
+the floor minutely. She rose, wiping the perspiration from her brow, put
+the carpet hack in place, adjusted the sofa and dropped upon it with a
+great sigh.
+
+“Well?” demanded Rouletabille.
+
+“Nothing at all,” said she.
+
+“Why did you call so openly?”
+
+“Because there was no doubt that it could only be my step-daughter on
+the ground-floor at that hour.”
+
+“And why this anxiety to examine the floor again?”
+
+“I entreat you, my dear little child, do not see in my acts anything
+mysterious, anything hard to explain. That anxiety you speak of never
+leaves me. Whenever I have the chance I examine the flooring.”
+
+“Madame,” demanded the young man, “what was your daughter doing in this
+room?”
+
+“She came for a glass of mineral water; the bottle is still on the
+table.”
+
+“Madame, it is necessary that you tell me precisely what Koupriane has
+only hinted to me, unless I am entirely mistaken. The first time that
+you thought to examine the floor, was it after you heard a noise on the
+ground-floor such as has just happened?”
+
+“Yes. I will tell you all that is necessary. It was the night after
+the attempt with the bouquet, my dear little monsieur, my dear little
+domovoi; it seemed to me I heard a noise on the ground-floor. I hurried
+downstairs and saw nothing suspicious at first. Everything was shut
+tight. I opened the door of Natacha’s chamber softly. I wished to ask
+her if she had heard anything. But she was so fast asleep that I had not
+the heart to awaken her. I opened the door of the veranda, and all the
+police--all, you understand--slept soundly. I took another turn around
+the furniture, and, with my lantern in my hand, I was just going out
+of the dining-room when I noticed that the carpet on the floor was
+disarranged at one corner. I got down and my hand struck a great fold
+of carpet near the general’s sofa. You would have said that the sofa had
+been rolled carelessly, trying to replace it in the position it usually
+occupied. Prompted by a sinister presentiment, I pushed away the sofa
+and I lifted the carpet. At first glance I saw nothing, but when I
+examined things closer I saw that a strip of wood did not lie well with
+the others on the floor. With a knife I was able to lift that strip and
+I found that two nails which had fastened it to the beam below had been
+freshly pulled out. It was just so I could raise the end of the board a
+little without being able to slip my hand under. To lift it any more it
+would be necessary to pull at least half-a-dozen nails. What could it
+mean? Was I on the point of discovering some new terrible and mysterious
+plan? I let the board fall back into place. I spread the carpet back
+again carefully, put the sofa in its place, and in the morning sent for
+Koupriane.”
+
+Rouletabille interrupted.
+
+“You had not, madame, spoken to anyone of this discovery?”
+
+“To no one.”
+
+“Not even to your step-daughter?”
+
+“No,” said the husky voice of Matrena, “not even to my step-daughter.”
+
+“Why?” demanded Rouletabille.
+
+“Because,” replied Matrena, after a moment’s hesitation, “there were
+already enough frightening things about the house. I would not have
+spoken to my daughter any more than I would have said a word to the
+general. Why add to the disquiet they already suffered so much, in case
+nothing developed?”
+
+“And what did Koupriane say?”
+
+“We examined the floor together, secretly. Koupriane slipped his hand
+under more easily than I had done, and ascertained that under the board,
+that is to say between the beam and the ceiling of the kitchen, there
+was a hollow where any number of things might be placed. For the moment
+the board was still too little released for any maneuver to be possible.
+Koupriane, when he rose, said to me, ‘You have happened, madame, to
+interrupt the person in her operations. But we are prepared henceforth.
+We know what she does and she is unaware that we know. Act as though
+you had not noticed anything; do not speak of it to anyone whatever--and
+watch. Let the general continue to sit in his usual place and let no one
+suspect that we have discovered the beginnings of this attempt. It is
+the only way we can plan so that they will continue. All the same,’ he
+added, ‘I will give my agents orders to patrol the ground-floor anew
+during the night. I would be risking too much to let the person continue
+her work each night. She might continue it so well that she would be
+able to accomplish it--you understand me? But by day you arrange that
+the rooms on the ground-floor be free from time to time--not for long,
+but from time to time.’ I don’t know why, but what he said and the way
+he said it frightened me more than ever. However, I carried out his
+program. Then, three days later, about eight o’clock, when the night
+watch was not yet started, that is to say at the moment when the police
+were still all out in the garden or walking around the house, outside,
+and when I had left the the ground-floor perfectly free while I helped
+the general to bed, I felt drawn even against myself suddenly to the
+dining-room. I lifted the carpet and examined the floor. Three more
+nails had been drawn from the board, which lifted more easily now, and
+under it, I could see that the normal cavity had been made wider still!”
+
+When she had said this, Matrena stopped, as if, overcome, she could not
+tell more.
+
+“Well?” insisted Rouletabille.
+
+“Well, I replaced things as I found them and made rapid inquiries of
+the police and their chief; no one had entered the ground-floor. You
+understand me?--no one at all. Neither had anyone come out from it.”
+
+“How could anyone come out if no one had entered?”
+
+“I wish to say,” said she with a sob, “that Natacha during this space of
+time had been in her chamber, in her chamber on the ground-floor.”
+
+“You appear to be very disturbed, madame, at this recollection. Can you
+tell me further, and precisely, why you are agitated?”
+
+“You understand me, surely,” she said, shaking her head.
+
+“If I understand you correctly, I have to understand that from the
+previous time you examined the floor until the time that you noted three
+more nails drawn out, no other person could have entered the dining-room
+but you and your step-daughter Natacha.”
+
+Matrena took Rouletabille’s hand as though she had reached an important
+decision.
+
+“My little friend,” moaned she, “there are things I am not able to think
+about and which I can no longer entertain when Natacha embraces me. It
+is a mystery more frightful than all else. Koupriane tells me that he is
+sure, absolutely sure, of the agents he kept here; my sole consolation,
+do you see, my little friend can tell you frankly, now that you have
+sent away those men--my sole consolation since that day has been that
+Koupriane is less sure of his men than I am of Natacha.”
+
+She broke down and sobbed.
+
+When she was calmed, she looked for Rouletabille, and could not
+find him. Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her dark-lantern, and,
+furtively, crept to her post beside the general.
+
+For that day these are the points in Rouletabille’s notebook:
+
+“Topography: Villa surrounded by a large garden on three sides. The
+fourth side gives directly onto a wooded field that stretches to the
+river Neva. On this side the level of the ground is much lower, so
+low that the sole window opening in that wall (the window of Natacha’s
+sitting-room on the ground-floor) is as high from the ground as though
+it were on the next floor in any other part of the house. This window is
+closed by iron shutters, fastened inside by a bar of iron.
+
+“Friends: Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch, Thaddeus the
+timber-merchant (peat boots), Michael and Boris (fine shoes). Matrena,
+sincere love, blundering heroism. Natacha unknown. Against Natacha:
+Never there during the attacks. At Moscow at the time of the bomb in
+the sleigh, no one knows where she was, and it is she who should have
+accompanied the general (detail furnished by Koupriane that Matrena
+generously kept back). The night of the bouquet is the only night
+Natacha has slept away from the house. Coincidence of the disappearance
+of the nails and the presence all alone on the ground-floor of Natacha,
+in case, of course, Matrena did not pull them out herself. For Natacha:
+Her eyes when she looks at her father.”
+
+And this bizarre phrase:
+
+“We mustn’t be rash. This evening I have not yet spoken to Matrena
+Petrovna about the little hat-pin. That little hat-pin is the greatest
+relief of my life.”
+
+
+
+
+V. BY ROULETABILLE’S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+
+“Good morning, my dear little familiar spirit. The general slept
+splendidly the latter part of the night. He did not touch his narcotic.
+I am sure it is that dreadful mixture that gives him such frightful
+dreams. And you, my dear little friend, you have not slept an instant.
+I know it. I felt you going everywhere about the house like a little
+mouse. Ah, it seems good, so good. I slept so peacefully, hearing the
+subdued movement of your little steps. Thanks for the sleep you have
+given me, little friend.”
+
+Matrena talked on to Rouletabille, whom she had found the morning after
+the nightmare tranquilly smoking his pipe in the garden.
+
+“Ah, ah, you smoke a pipe. Now you do certainly look exactly like a dear
+little domovoi-doukh. See how much you are alike. He smokes just like
+you. Nothing new, eh? You do not look very bright this morning. You are
+worn out. I have just arranged the little guest-chamber for you, the
+only one we have, just behind mine. Your bed is waiting for you. Is
+there anything you need? Tell me. Everything here is at your service.”
+
+“I’m not in need of anything, madame,” said the young man smilingly,
+after this outpouring of words from the good, heroic dame.
+
+“How can you say that, dear child? You will make yourself sick. I want
+you to understand that I wish you to rest. I want to be a mother to you,
+if you please, and you must obey me, my child. Have you had breakfast
+yet this morning? If you do not have breakfast promptly mornings, I will
+think you are annoyed. I am so annoyed that you have heard the secret of
+the night. I have been afraid that you would want to leave at once and
+for good, and that you would have mistaken ideas about the general.
+There is not a better man in the world than Feodor, and he must have
+a good, a very good conscience to dare, without fail, to perform such
+terrible duties as those at Moscow, when he is so good at heart. These
+things are easy enough for wicked people, but for good men, for good men
+who can reason it out, who know what they do and that they are condemned
+to death into the bargain, it is terrible, it is terrible! Why, I told
+him the moment things began to go wrong in Moscow, ‘You know what to
+expect, Feodor. Here is a dreadful time to get through--make out you are
+sick.’ I believed he was going to strike me, to kill me on the spot.
+‘I! Betray the Emperor in such a moment! His Majesty, to whom I owe
+everything! What are you thinking of, Matrena Petrovna!’ And he did
+not speak to me after that for two days. It was only when he saw I was
+growing very ill that he pardoned me, but he had to be plagued with my
+jeremiads and the appealing looks of Natacha without end in his own
+home each time we heard any shooting in the street. Natacha attended the
+lectures of the Faculty, you know. And she knew many of them, and even
+some of those who were being killed on the barricades. Ah, life was not
+easy for him in his own home, the poor general! Besides, there was also
+Boris, whom I love as well, for that matter, as my own child, because I
+shall be very happy to see him married to Natacha--there was poor Boris
+who always came home from the attacks paler than a corpse and who could
+not keep from moaning with us.”
+
+“And Michael?” questioned Rouletabille.
+
+“Oh, Michael only came towards the last. He is a new orderly to the
+general. The government at St. Petersburg sent him, because of course
+they couldn’t help learning that Boris rather lacked zeal in repressing
+the students and did not encourage the general in being as severe as was
+necessary for the safety of the Empire. But Michael, he has a heart of
+stone; he knows nothing but the countersign and massacres fathers and
+mothers, crying, ‘Vive le Tsar!’ Truly, it seems his heart can only be
+touched by the sight of Natacha. And that again has caused a good deal
+of anxiety to Feodor and me. It has caught us in a useless complication
+that we would have liked to end by the prompt marriage of Natacha and
+Boris. But Natacha, to our great surprise, has not wished it to be so.
+No, she has not wished it, saying that there is always time to think
+of her wedding and that she is in no hurry to leave us. Meantime she
+entertains herself with this Michael as if she did not fear his passion,
+and neither has Michael the desperate air of a man who knows the
+definite engagement of Natacha and Boris. And my step-daughter is not a
+coquette. No, no. No one can say she is a coquette. At least, no one had
+been able to say it up to the time that Michael arrived. Can it be
+that she is a coquette? They are mysterious, these young girls, very
+mysterious, above all when they have that calm and tranquil look that
+Natacha always has; a face, monsieur, as you have noticed perhaps, whose
+beauty is rather passive whatever one says and does, excepting when the
+volleys in the streets kill her young comrades of the schools. Then I
+have seen her almost faint, which proves she has a great heart under
+her tranquil beauty. Poor Natacha! I have seen her excited as I over the
+life of her father. My little friend, I have seen her searching in the
+middle of the night, with me, for infernal machines under the furniture,
+and then she has expressed the opinion that it is nervous, childish,
+unworthy of us to act like that, like timid beasts under the sofas, and
+she has left me to search by myself. True, she never quits the general.
+She is more reassured, and is reassuring to him, at his side. It has
+an excellent moral effect on him, while I walk about and search like a
+beast. And she has become as fatalistic as he, and now she sings verses
+to the guzla, like Boris, or talks in corners with Michael, which makes
+the two enraged each with the other. They are curious, the young women
+of St. Petersburg and Moscow, very curious. We were not like that in our
+time, at Orel. We did not try to enrage people. We would have received a
+box on the ears if we had.”
+
+Natacha came in upon this conversation, happy, in white voile, fresh and
+smiling like a girl who had passed an excellent night. She asked after
+the health of the young man very prettily and embraced Matrena, in truth
+as one embraces a much-beloved mother. She complained again of Matrena’s
+night-watch.
+
+“You have not stopped it, mamma; you have not stopped it, eh? You are
+not going to be a little reasonable at last? I beg of you! What has
+given me such a mother! Why don’t you sleep? Night is made for sleep.
+Koupriane has upset you. All the terrible things are over in Moscow.
+There is no occasion to think of them any more. That Koupriane makes
+himself important with his police-agents and obsesses us all. I am
+convinced that the affair of the bouquet was the work of his police.”
+
+“Mademoiselle,” said Rouletabille, “I have just had them all sent away,
+all of them--because I think very much the same as you do.”
+
+“Well, then, you will be my friend, Monsieur Rouletabille I promise you,
+since you have done that. Now that the police are gone we have nothing
+more to fear. Nothing. I tell you, mamma; you can believe me and not
+weep any more, mamma dear.”
+
+“Yes, yes; kiss me. Kiss me again!” repeated Matrena, drying her eyes.
+“When you kiss me I forget everything. You love me like your own mother,
+don’t you?”
+
+“Like my mother. Like my own mother.”
+
+“You have nothing to hide from me?--tell me, Natacha.”
+
+“Nothing to hide.”
+
+“Then why do you make Boris suffer so? Why don’t you marry him?”
+
+“Because I don’t wish to leave you, mamma dear.”
+
+She escaped further parley by jumping up on the garden edge away from
+Khor, who had just been set free for the day.
+
+“The dear child,” said Matrena; “the dear little one, she little knows
+how much pain she has caused us without being aware of it, by her ideas,
+her extravagant ideas. Her father said to me one day at Moscow, ‘Matrena
+Petrovna, I’ll tell you what I think--Natacha is the victim of the
+wicked books that have turned the brains of all these poor rebellious
+students. Yes, yes; it would be better for her and for us if she did not
+know how to read, for there are moments--my word!--when she talks very
+wildly, and I have said to myself more than once that with such ideas
+her place is not in our salon hut behind a barricade. All the same,’ he
+added after reflection, ‘I prefer to find her in the salon where I can
+embrace her than behind a barricade where I would kill her like a mad
+dog.’ But my husband, dear little monsieur, did not say what he really
+thinks, for he loves his daughter more than all the rest of the world
+put together, and there are things that even a general, yes, even a
+governor-general, would not be able to do without violating both divine
+and human laws. He suspects Boris also of setting Natacha’s wits awry.
+We really have to consider that when they are married they will read
+everything they have a mind to. My husband has much more real respect
+for Michael Korsakoff because of his impregnable character and his
+granite conscience. More than once he has said, ‘Here is the aide I
+should have had in the worst days of Moscow. He would have spared me
+much of the individual pain.’ I can understand how that would please
+the general, but how such a tigerish nature succeeds in appealing to
+Natacha, how it succeeds in not actually revolting her, these young
+girls of the capital, one never can tell about them--they get away from
+all your notions of them.”
+
+Rouletabille inquired:
+
+“Why did Boris say to Michael, ‘We will return together’? Do they live
+together?”
+
+“Yes, in the small villa on the Krestowsky Ostrov, the isle across from
+ours, that you can see from the window of the sitting-room. Boris chose
+it because of that. The orderlies wished to have camp-beds prepared for
+them right here in the general’s house, by a natural devotion to him;
+but I opposed it, in order to keep them both from Natacha, in whom,
+of course, I have the most complete confidence, but one cannot be sure
+about the extravagance of men nowadays.”
+
+Ermolai came to announce the petit-dejeuner. They found Natacha already
+at table and she poured them coffee and milk, eating away all the time
+at a sandwich of anchovies and caviare.
+
+“Tell me, mamma, do you know what gives me such an appetite? It is the
+thought of the way poor Koupriane must have taken this dismissal of his
+men. I should like to go to see him.”
+
+“If you see him,” said Rouletabille, “it is unnecessary to tell him that
+the general will go for a long promenade among the isles this afternoon,
+because without fail he would send us an escort of gendarmes.”
+
+“Papa! A promenade among the islands? Truly? Oh, that is going to be
+lovely!”
+
+Matrena Petrovna sprang to her feet.
+
+“Are you mad, my dear little domovoi, actually mad?”
+
+“Why? Why? It is fine. I must run and tell papa.”
+
+“Your father’s room is locked,” said Matrena brusquely.
+
+“Yes, yes; he is locked in. You have the key. Locked away until death!
+You will kill him. It will be you who kills him.”
+
+She left the table without waiting for a reply and went and shut herself
+also in her chamber.
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille, who continued his breakfast as though
+nothing had happened.
+
+“Is it possible that you speak seriously?” she demanded, coming over and
+sitting down beside him. “A promenade! Without the police, when we have
+received again this morning a letter saying now that before forty-eight
+hours the general will be dead!”
+
+“Forty-eight hours,” said Rouletabille, soaking his bread in his
+chocolate, “forty-eight hours? It is possible. In any case, I know they
+will try something very soon.”
+
+“My God, how is it that you believe that? You speak with assurance.”
+
+“Madame, it is necessary to do everything I tell you, to the letter.”
+
+“But to have the general go out, unless he is guarded--how can you take
+such a responsibility? When I think about it, when I really think about
+it, I ask myself how you have dared send away the police. But here, at
+least, I know what to do in order to feel a little safe, I know that
+downstairs with Gniagnia and Ermolai we have nothing to fear. No
+stranger can approach even the basement. The provisions are brought from
+the lodge by our dvornicks whom we have had sent from my mother’s home
+in the Orel country and who are as devoted to us as bull-dogs. Not
+a bottle of preserves is taken into the kitchens without having been
+previously opened outside. No package comes from any tradesman without
+being opened in the lodge. Here, within, we are able to feel a little
+safe, even without the police--but away from here--outside!”
+
+“Madame, they are going to try to kill your husband within forty-eight
+hours. Do you desire me to save him perhaps for a long time--for good,
+perhaps?”
+
+“Ah, listen to him! Listen to him, the dear little domovoi! But what
+will Koupriane say? He will not permit any venturing beyond the villa;
+none, at least for the moment. Ah, now, how he looks at me, the dear
+little domovoi! Oh, well, yes. There, I will do as you wish.”
+
+“Very well, come into the garden with me.”
+
+She accompanied him, leaning on his arm.
+
+“Here’s the idea,” said Rouletabille. “This afternoon you will go with
+the general in his rolling-chair. Everybody will follow. Everyone,
+you understand, Madame--understand me thoroughly, I mean to say that
+everyone who wishes to come must be invited to. Only those who wish
+to remain behind will do so. And do not insist. Ah, now, I see, you
+understand me. Why do you tremble?”
+
+“But who will guard the house?”
+
+“No one. Simply tell the servant at the lodge to watch from the
+lodge those who enter the villa, but simply from the lodge, without
+interfering with them, and saying nothing to them, nothing.”
+
+“I will do as you wish. Do you want me to announce our promenade
+beforehand?”
+
+“Why, certainly. Don’t be uneasy; let everybody have the good news.”
+
+“Oh, I will tell only the general and his friends, you may be sure.”
+
+“Now, dear Madame, just one more word. Do not wait for me at luncheon.”
+
+“What! You are going to leave us?” she cried instantly, breathless. “No,
+no. I do not wish it. I am willing to do without the police, but I am
+not willing to do without you. Everything might happen in your absence.
+Everything! Everything!” she repeated with singular energy. “Because,
+for me, I cannot feel sure as I should, perhaps. Ah, you make me say
+these things. Such things! But do not go.”
+
+“Do not be afraid; I am not going to leave you, madame.”
+
+“Ah, you are good! You are kind, kind! Caracho! (Very well.)”
+
+“I will not leave you. But I must not be at luncheon. If anyone asks
+where I am, say that I have my business to look after, and have gone to
+interview political personages in the city.”
+
+“There’s only one political personage in Russia,” replied Matrena
+Petrovna bluntly; “that is the Tsar.”
+
+“Very well; say I have gone to interview the Tsar.”
+
+“But no one will believe that. And where will you be?”
+
+“I do not know myself. But I will be about the house.”
+
+“Very well, very well, dear little domovoi.”
+
+She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what she
+should think--her head was all in a muddle.
+
+In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus
+Tchnitchnikof arrived. The general was already in the veranda. Michael
+and Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn how he had
+passed the night without the police. When they were told that Feodor
+was going for a promenade that afternoon they applauded his decision.
+“Bravo! A promenade a la strielka (to the head of the island) at the
+hour when all St. Petersburg is driving there. That is fine. We will all
+be there.” The general made them stay for luncheon. Natacha appeared for
+the meal, in rather melancholy mood. A little before luncheon she had
+held a double conversation in the garden with Michael and Boris. No one
+ever could have known what these three young people had said if some
+stenographic notes in Rouletabille’s memorandum-book did not give us
+a notion; the reporter had overheard, by accident surely, since all
+self-respecting reporters are quite incapable of eavesdropping.
+
+The memorandum notes:
+
+Natacha went into the garden with a book, which she gave to Boris, who
+pressed her hand lingeringly to his lips. “Here is your book; I return
+it to you. I don’t want any more of them, the ideas surge so in my
+brain. It makes my head ache. It is true, you are right, I don’t love
+novelties. I can satisfy myself with Pouchkine perfectly. The rest are
+all one to me. Did you pass a good night?”
+
+Boris (good-looking young man, about thirty years old, blonde, a little
+effeminate, wistful. A curious appurtenance in the military household of
+so vigorous a general). “Natacha, there is not an hour that I can call
+truly good if I spend it away from you, dear, dear Natacha.”
+
+“I ask you seriously if you have passed a good night?”
+
+She touched his hand a moment and looked into his eyes, but he shook his
+head.
+
+“What did you do last night after you reached home?” she demanded
+insistently. “Did you stay up?”
+
+“I obeyed you; I only sat a half-hour by the window looking over here at
+the villa, and then I went to bed.”
+
+“Yes, it is necessary you should get your rest. I wish it for you as
+for everyone else. This feverish life is impossible. Matrena Petrovna is
+getting us all ill, and we shall be prostrated.”
+
+“Yesterday,” said Boris, “I looked at the villa for a half-hour from
+my window. Dear, dear villa, dear night when I can feel you breathing,
+living near me. As if you had been against my heart. I could have wept
+because I could hear Michael snoring in his chamber. He seemed happy.
+At last, I heard nothing more, there was nothing more to hear but the
+double chorus of frogs in the pools of the island. Our pools, Natacha,
+are like the enchanted lakes of the Caucasus which are silent by day and
+sing at evening; there are innumerable throngs of frogs which sing on
+the same chord, some of them on a major and some on a minor. The chorus
+speaks from pool to pool, lamenting and moaning across the fields and
+gardens, and re-echoing like AEolian harps placed opposite one another.”
+
+“Do AEolian harps make so much noise, Boris?”
+
+“You laugh? I don’t find you yourself half the time. It is Michael who
+has changed you, and I am out of it. (Here they spoke in Russian.)
+I shall not be easy until I am your husband. I can’t understand your
+manner with Michael at all.”
+
+(Here more Russian words which I do not understand.)
+
+“Speak French; here is the gardener,” said Natacha.
+
+“I do not like the way you are managing our lives. Why do you delay our
+marriage? Why?”
+
+(Russian words from Natacha. Gesture of desperation from Boris.)
+
+“How long? You say a long time? But that says nothing--a long time. How
+long? A year? Two years? Ten years? Tell me, or I will kill myself at
+your feet. No, no; speak or I will kill Michael. On my word! Like a
+dog!”
+
+“I swear to you, by the dear head of your mother, Boris, that the date
+of our marriage does not depend on Michael.”
+
+(Some words in Russian. Boris, a little consoled, holds her hand
+lingeringly to his lips.)
+
+Conversation between Michael and Natacha in the garden:
+
+“Well? Have you told him?”
+
+“I ended at last by making him understand that there is not any hope.
+None. It is necessary to have patience. I have to have it myself.”
+
+“He is stupid and provoking.”
+
+“Stupid, no. Provoking, yes, if you wish. But you also, you are
+provoking.”
+
+“Natacha! Natacha!”
+
+(Here more Russian.) As Natacha started to leave, Michael placed his
+hand on her shoulder, stopped her and said, looking her direct in the
+eyes:
+
+“There will be a letter from Annouchka this evening, by a messenger
+at five o’clock.” He made each syllable explicit. “Very important and
+requiring an immediate reply.”
+
+These notes of Rouletabille’s are not followed by any commentary.
+
+After luncheon the gentlemen played poker until half-past four, which
+is the “chic” hour for the promenade to the head of the island.
+Rouletabille had directed Matrena to start exactly at a quarter to five.
+He appeared in the meantime, announcing that he had just interviewed
+the mayor of St. Petersburg, which made Athanase laugh, who could not
+understand that anyone would come clear from Paris to talk with men like
+that. Natacha came from her chamber to join them for the promenade. Her
+father told her she looked too worried.
+
+They left the villa. Rouletabille noted that the dvornicks were before
+the gate and that the schwitzar was at his post, from which he could
+detect everyone who might enter or leave the villa. Matrena pushed the
+rolling-chair herself. The general was radiant. He had Natacha at his
+right and at his left Athanase and Thaddeus. The two orderlies followed,
+talking with Rouletabille, who had monopolized them. The conversation
+turned on the devotion of Matrena Petrovna, which they placed above the
+finest heroic traits in the women of antiquity, and also on Natacha’s
+love for her father. Rouletabille made them talk.
+
+Boris Mourazoff explained that this exceptional love was accounted for
+by the fact that Natacha’s own mother, the general’s first wife, died in
+giving birth to their daughter, and accordingly Feodor Feodorovitch had
+been both father and mother to his daughter. He had raised her with the
+most touching care, not permitting anyone else, when she was sick, to
+have the care of passing the nights by her bedside.
+
+Natacha was seven years old when Feodor Feodorovitch was appointed
+governor of Orel. In the country near Orel, during the summer, the
+general and his daughter lived on neighborly terms near the family of
+old Petroff, one of the richest fur merchants in Russia. Old Petroff
+had a daughter, Matrena, who was magnificent to see, like a beautiful
+field-flower. She was always in excellent humor, never spoke ill of
+anyone in the neighborhood, and not only had the fine manners of a
+city dame but a great, simple heart, which she lavished on the little
+Natacha.
+
+The child returned the affection of the beautiful Matrena, and it was
+on seeing them always happy to find themselves together that Trebassof
+dreamed of reestablishing his fireside. The nuptials were quickly
+arranged, and the child, when she learned that her good Matrena was to
+wed her papa, danced with joy. Then misfortune came only a few weeks
+before the ceremony. Old Petroff, who speculated on the Exchange for a
+long time without anyone knowing anything about it, was ruined from top
+to bottom. Matrena came one evening to apprise Feodor Feodorovitch of
+this sad news and return his pledge to him. For all response Feodor
+placed Natacha in Matrena’s arms. “Embrace your mother,” he said to
+the child, and to Matrena, “From to-day I consider you my wife, Matrena
+Petrovna. You should obey me in all things. Take that reply to your
+father and tell him my purse is at his disposition.”
+
+The general was already, at that time, even before he had inherited
+the Cheremaieff, immensely rich. He had lands behind Nijni as vast as
+a province, and it would have been difficult to count the number of
+moujiks who worked for him on his property. Old Pretroff gave his
+daughter and did not wish to accept anything in exchange. Feodor wished
+to settle a large allowance on his wife; her father opposed that, and
+Matrena sided with him in the matter against her husband, because of
+Natacha. “It all belongs to the little one,” she insisted. “I accept the
+position of her mother, but on the condition that she shall never lose a
+kopeck of her inheritance.”
+
+“So that,” concluded Boris, “if the general died tomorrow she would be
+poorer than Job.”
+
+“Then the general is Matrena’s sole resource,” reflected Rouletabille
+aloud.
+
+“I can understand her hanging onto him,” said Michael Korsakoff, blowing
+the smoke of his yellow cigarette. “Look at her. She watches him like a
+treasure.”
+
+“What do you mean, Michael Nikolaievitch?” said Boris, curtly.
+“You believe, do you, that the devotion of Matrena Petrovna is not
+disinterested. You must know her very poorly to dare utter such a
+thought.”
+
+“I have never had that thought, Boris Alexandrovitch,” replied the other
+in a tone curter still. “To be able to imagine that anyone who lives
+in the Trebassofs’ home could have such a thought needs an ass’s head,
+surely.”
+
+“We will speak of it again, Michael Nikolaievitch.”
+
+“At your pleasure, Boris Alexandrovitch.”
+
+They had exchanged these latter words tranquilly continuing their walk
+and negligently smoking their yellow tobacco. Rouletabille was between
+them. He did not regard them; he paid no attention even to their
+quarrel; he had eyes only for Natacha, who just now quit her place
+beside her father’s wheel-chair and passed by them with a little nod of
+the head, seeming in haste to retrace the way back to the villa.
+
+“Are you leaving us?” Boris demanded of her.
+
+“Oh, I will rejoin you immediately. I have forgotten my umbrella.”
+
+“But I will go and get it for you,” proposed Michael.
+
+“No, no. I have to go to the villa; I will return right away.”
+
+She was already past them. Rouletabille, during this, looked at Matrena
+Petrovna, who looked at him also, turning toward the young man a visage
+pale as wax. But no one else noted the emotion of the good Matrena, who
+resumed pushing the general’s wheel-chair.
+
+Rouletabille asked the officers, “Was this arrangement because the first
+wife of the general, Natacha’s mother, was rich?”
+
+“No. The general, who always had his heart in his hand,” said Boris,
+“married her for her great beauty. She was a beautiful girl of the
+Caucasus, of excellent family besides, that Feodor Feodorovitch had
+known when he was in garrison at Tiflis.”
+
+“In short,” said Rouletabille, “the day that General Trebassof dies
+Madame Trebassof, who now possesses everything, will have nothing, and
+the daughter, who now has nothing, will have everything.”
+
+“Exactly that,” said Michael.
+
+“That doesn’t keep Matrena Petrovna and Natacha Feodorovna from deeply
+loving each other,” observed Boris.
+
+The little party drew near the “Point.” So far the promenade had been
+along pleasant open country, among the low meadows traversed by fresh
+streams, across which tiny bridges had been built, among bright gardens
+guarded by porcelain dwarfs, or in the shade of small weeds from the
+feet of whose trees the newly-cut grass gave a seasonal fragrance. All
+was reflected in the pools--which lay like glass whereon a scene-painter
+had cut the green hearts of the pond-lily leaves. An adorable country
+glimpse which seemed to have been created centuries back for the
+amusement of a queen and preserved, immaculately trimmed and cleaned,
+from generation to generation, for the eternal charm of such an hour as
+this on the banks of the Gulf of Finland.
+
+Now they had reached the bank of the Gulf, and the waves rippled to the
+prows of the light ships, which dipped gracefully like huge and rapid
+sea-gulls, under the pressure of their great white sails.
+
+Along the roadway, broader now, glided, silently and at walking pace,
+the double file of luxurious equipages with impatient horses, the open
+carriages in which the great personages of the court saw the view and
+let themselves be seen. Enormous coachmen held the reins high. Lively
+young women, negligently reclining against the cushions, displayed their
+new Paris toilettes, and kept young officers on horseback busy with
+salutes. There were all kinds of uniforms. No talking was heard.
+Everyone was kept busy looking. There rang in the pure, thin air only
+the noise of the champing bits and the tintinnabulation of the bells
+attached to the hairy Finnish ponies’ collars. And all that, so
+beautiful, fresh, charming and clear, and silent, it all seemed more
+a dream than even that which hung in the pools, suspended between the
+crystal of the air and the crystal of the water. The transparence of the
+sky and the transparence of the gulf blended their two unrealities so
+that one could not note where the horizons met.
+
+Rouletabille looked at the view and looked at the general, and in all
+his young vibrating soul there was a sense of infinite sadness, for he
+recalled those terrible words in the night: “They have gone into all the
+corners of the Russian land, and they have not found a single corner of
+that land where there are not moanings.” “Well,” thought he, “they have
+not come into this corner, apparently. I don’t know anything lovelier or
+happier in the world.” No, no, Rouletabille, they have not come here.
+In every country there is a corner of happy life, which the poor are
+ashamed to approach, which they know nothing of, and of which merely the
+sight would turn famished mothers enraged, with their thin bosoms, and,
+if it is not more beautiful than that, certainly no part of the earth
+is made so atrocious to live in for some, nor so happy for others as in
+this Scythian country, the boreal country of the world.
+
+Meanwhile the little group about the general’s rolling-chair had
+attracted attention. Some passers-by saluted, and the news spread
+quickly that General Trebassof had come for a promenade to “the Point.”
+ Heads turned as carriages passed; the general, noticing how much
+excitement his presence produced, begged Matrena Petrovna to push his
+chair into an adjacent by-path, behind a shield of trees where he would
+be able to enjoy the spectacle in peace.
+
+He was found, nevertheless, by Koupriane, the Chief of Police, who was
+looking for him. He had gone to the datcha and been told there that the
+general, accompanied by his friends and the young Frenchman, had gone
+for a turn along the gulf. Koupriane had left his carriage at the
+datcha, and taken the shortest route after them.
+
+He was a fine man, large, solid, clear-eyed. His uniform showed his fine
+build to advantage. He was generally liked in St. Petersburg, where
+his martial bearing and his well-known bravery had given him a sort of
+popularity in society, which, on the other hand, had great disdain for
+Gounsovski, the head of the Secret Police, who was known to be capable
+of anything underhanded and had been accused of sometimes playing into
+the hands of the Nihilists, whom he disguised as agents-provocateurs,
+without anybody really doubting it, and he had to fight against these
+widespread political suspicions.
+
+Well-informed men declared that the death of the previous “prime
+minister,” who had been blown up before Varsovie station when he was on
+his way to the Tsar at Peterhof, was Gounsovski’s work and that in this
+he was the instrument of the party at court which had sworn the death
+of the minister which inconvenienced it.* On the other hand, everyone
+regarded Koupriane as incapable of participating in any such horrors and
+that he contented himself with honest performance of his obvious duties,
+confining himself to ridding the streets of its troublesome elements,
+and sending to Siberia as many as he could of the hot-heads, without
+lowering himself to the compromises which, more than once, had given
+grounds for the enemies of the empire to maintain that it was difficult
+to say whether the chiefs of the Russian police played the part of the
+law or that of the revolutionary party, even that the police had been at
+the end of a certain time of such mixed procedure hardly able to
+decide themselves which they did.
+
+     * Rumored cause of Plehve’s assassination.
+
+This afternoon Koupriane appeared very nervous. He paid his compliments
+to the general, grumbled at his imprudence, praised him for his bravery,
+and then at once picked out Rouletabille, whom he took aside to talk to.
+
+“You have sent my men back to me,” said he to the young reporter.
+“You understand that I do not allow that. They are furious, and quite
+rightly. You have given publicly as explanation of their departure--a
+departure which has naturally astonished, stupefied the general’s
+friends--the suspicion of their possible participation in the last
+attack. That is abominable, and I will not permit it. My men have not
+been trained in the methods of Gounsovski, and it does them a cruel
+injury, which I resent, for that matter, personally, to treat them this
+way. But let that go, as a matter of sentiment, and return to the simple
+fact itself, which proves your excessive imprudence, not to say more,
+and which involves you, you alone, in a responsibility of which you
+certainly have not measured the importance. All in all, I consider that
+you have strangely abused the complete authority that I gave you upon
+the Emperor’s orders. When I learned what you had done I went to find
+the Tsar, as was my duty, and told him the whole thing. He was more
+astonished than can be expressed. He directed me to go myself to find
+out just how things were and to furnish the general the guard you had
+removed. I arrive at the isles and not only find the villa open like a
+mill where anyone may enter, but I am informed, and then I see, that the
+general is promenading in the midst of the crowd, at the mercy of the
+first miserable venturer. Monsieur Rouletabille, I am not satisfied. The
+Tsar is not satisfied. And, within an hour, my men will return to assume
+their guard at the datcha.”
+
+Rouletabille listened to the end. No one ever had spoken to him in that
+tone. He was red, and as ready to burst as a child’s balloon blown too
+hard. He said:
+
+“And I will take the train this evening.”
+
+“You will go?”
+
+“Yes, and you can guard your general all alone. I have had enough of it.
+Ah, you are not satisfied! Ah, the Tsar is not satisfied! It is too
+bad. No more of it for me. Monsieur, I am not satisfied, and I say
+Good-evening to you. Only do not forget to send me from here every three
+or four days a letter which will keep me informed of the health of the
+general, whom I love dearly. I will offer up a little prayer for him.”
+
+Thereupon he was silent, for he caught the glance of Matrena Petrovna,
+a glance so desolated, so imploring, so desperate, that the poor woman
+inspired him anew with great pity. Natacha had not returned. What was
+the young girl doing at that moment? If Matrena really loved Natacha
+she must be suffering atrociously. Koupriane spoke; Rouletabille did
+not hear him, and he had already forgotten his own anger. His spirit was
+wrapped in the mystery.
+
+“Monsieur,” Koupriane finished by saying, tugging his sleeve, “do you
+hear me? I pray you at least reply to me. I offer all possible excuses
+for speaking to you in that tone. I reiterate them. I ask your pardon.
+I pray you to explain your conduct, which appeared imprudent to me but
+which, after all, should have some reason. I have to explain to the
+Emperor. Will you tell me? What ought I to say to the Emperor?”
+
+“Nothing at all,” said Rouletabille. “I have no explanation to give you
+or the Emperor, or to anyone. You can offer him my utmost homage and do
+me the kindness to vise my passport for this evening.”
+
+And he sighed:
+
+“It is too bad, for we were just about to see something interesting.”
+
+Koupriane looked at him. Rouletabille had not quitted Matrena Petrovna’s
+eyes, and her pallor struck Koupriane.
+
+“Just a minute,” continued the young man. “I’m sure there is someone
+who will miss me--that brave woman there. Ask her which she prefers, all
+your police, or her dear little domovoi. We are good friends already.
+And--don’t forget to present my condolences to her when the terrible
+moment has come.”
+
+It was Koupriane’s turn to be troubled.
+
+He coughed and said:
+
+“You believe, then, that the general runs a great immediate danger?”
+
+“I do not only believe it, monsieur, I am sure of it. His death is a
+matter of hours for the poor dear man. Before I go I shall not fail
+to tell him, so that he can prepare himself comfortably for the great
+journey and ask pardon of the Lord for the rather heavy hand he has laid
+on these poor men of Presnia.”
+
+“Monsieur Rouletabille, have you discovered something?”
+
+“Good Lord, yes, I have discovered something, Monsieur Koupriane. You
+don’t suppose I have come so far to waste my time, do you?”
+
+“Something no one else knows?”
+
+“Yes, Monsieur Koupriane, otherwise I shouldn’t have troubled to feel
+concerned. Something I have not confided to anyone, not even to my
+note-book, because a note-book, you know, a note-book can always be
+lost. I just mention that in case you had any idea of having me searched
+before my departure.”
+
+“Oh, Monsieur Rouletabille!”
+
+“Eh, eh, like the way the police do in your country; in mine too, for
+that matter. Yes, that’s often enough seen. The police, furious because
+they can’t hit a clue in some case that interests them, arrest a
+reporter who knows more than they do, in order to make him talk.
+But--nothing of that sort with me, monsieur. You might have me taken to
+your famous ‘Terrible Section,’ I’d not open my mouth, not even in the
+famous rocking-chair, not even under the blows of clenched fists.”
+
+“Monsieur Rouletabille, what do you take us for? You are the guest of
+the Tsar.”
+
+“Ah, I have the word of an honest man. Very well, I will treat you as an
+honest man. I will tell you what I have discovered. I don’t wish through
+any false pride to keep you in darkness about something which may
+perhaps--I say perhaps--permit you to save the general.”
+
+“Tell me. I am listening.”
+
+“But it is perfectly understood that once I have told you this you will
+give me my passport and allow me to depart?”
+
+“You feel that you couldn’t possibly,” inquired Koupriane, more and more
+troubled, and after a moment of hesitation, “you couldn’t possibly tell
+me that and yet remain?”
+
+“No, monsieur. From the moment you place me under the necessity of
+explaining each of my movements and each of my acts, I prefer to go and
+leave to you that ‘responsibility’ of which you spoke just now, my dear
+Monsieur Koupriane.”
+
+Astonished and disquieted by this long conversation between Rouletabille
+and the Head of Police, Matrena Petrovna continually turned upon them
+her anguished glance, which always insensibly softened as it rested on
+Rouletabille. Koupriane read there all the hope that the brave woman had
+in the young reporter, and he read also in Rouletabille’s eye all the
+extraordinary confidence that the mere boy had in himself. As a last
+consideration had he not already something in hand in circumstances
+where all the police of the world had admitted themselves vanquished?
+Koupriane pressed Rouletabille’s hand and said just one word to him:
+
+“Remain.”
+
+Having saluted the general and Matrena affectionately, and a group of
+friends in one courteous sweep, he departed, with thoughtful brow.
+
+During all this time the general, enchanted with the promenade, told
+stories of the Caucasus to his friends, believing himself young again
+and re-living his nights as sub-lieutenant at Tills. As to Natacha,
+no one had seen her. They retraced the way to the villa along deserted
+by-paths. Koupriane’s call made occasion for Athanase Georgevitch and
+Thaddeus, and the two officers also, to say that he was the only honest
+man in all the Russian police, and that Matrena Petrovna was a great
+woman to have dared rid herself of the entire clique of agents, who
+are often more revolutionary than the Nihilists themselves. Thus they
+arrived at the datcha.
+
+The general inquired for Natacha, not understanding why she had left him
+thus during his first venture out. The schwitzar replied that the young
+mistress had returned to the house and had left again about a quarter
+of an hour later, taking the way that the party had gone on their
+promenade, and he had not seen her since.
+
+Boris spoke up:
+
+“She must have passed on the other side of the carriages while we were
+behind the trees, general, and not seeing us she has gone on her way,
+making the round of the island, over as far as the Barque.”
+
+The explanation seemed the most plausible one.
+
+“Has anyone else been here?” demanded Matrena, forcing her voice to
+be calm. Rouletabille saw her hand tremble on the handle of the
+rolling-chair, which she had not quitted for a second during all the
+promenade, refusing aid from the officers, the friends, and even from
+Rouletabille.
+
+“First there came the Head of Police, who told me he would go and find
+you, Barinia, and right after, His Excellency the Marshal of the Court.
+His Excellency will return, although he is very pressed for time, before
+he takes the train at seven o’clock for Krasnoie-Coelo.”
+
+All this had been said in Russian, naturally, but Matrena translated the
+words of the schwitzar into French in a low voice for Rouletabille, who
+was near her. The general during this time had taken Rouletabille’s hand
+and pressed it affectionately, as if, in that mute way, to thank him for
+all the young man had done for them. Feodor himself also had confidence,
+and he was grateful for the freer air that he was being allowed
+to breathe. It seemed to him that he was emerging from prison.
+Nevertheless, as the promenade had been a little fatiguing, Matrena
+ordered him to go and rest immediately. Athanase and Thaddeus took their
+leave. The two officers were already at the end of the garden, talking
+coldly, and almost confronting one another, like wooden soldiers.
+Without doubt they were arranging the conditions of an encounter to
+settle their little difference at once.
+
+The schwitzar gathered the general into his great arms and carried him
+into the veranda. Feodor demanded five minutes’ respite before he was
+taken upstairs to his chamber. Matrena Petrovna had a light luncheon
+brought at his request. In truth, the good woman trembled with
+impatience and hardly dared move without consulting Rouletabille’s
+face. While the general talked with Ermolai, who passed him his tea,
+Rouletabille made a sign to Matrena that she understood at once. She
+joined the young man in the drawing-room.
+
+“Madame,” he said rapidly, in a low voice, “you must go at once to see
+what has happened there.”
+
+He pointed to the dining-room.
+
+“Very well.”
+
+It was pitiful to watch her.
+
+“Go, madame, with courage.”
+
+“Why don’t you come with me?”
+
+“Because, madame, I have something to do elsewhere. Give me the keys of
+the next floor.”
+
+“No, no. What for?”
+
+“Not a second’s delay, for the love of Heaven. Do what I tell you on
+your side, and let me do mine. The keys! Come, the keys!”
+
+He snatched them rather than took them, and pointed a last time to
+the dining-room with a gesture so commanding that she did not hesitate
+further. She entered the dining-room, shaking, while he bounded to the
+upper floor. He was not long. He took only time to open the doors, throw
+a glance into the general’s chamber, a single glance, and to return,
+letting a cry of joy escape him, borrowed from his new and very limited
+accomplishment of Russian, “Caracho!”
+
+How Rouletabille, who had not spent half a second examining the
+general’s chamber, was able to be certain that all went well on that
+side, when it took Matrena--and that how many times a day!--at least
+a quarter of an hour of ferreting in all the corners each time she
+explored her house before she was even inadequately reassured, was
+a question. If that dear heroic woman had been with him during this
+“instant information” she would have received such a shock that, with
+all confidence gone, she would have sent for Koupriane immediately,
+and all his agents, reinforced by the personnel of the Okrana (Secret
+Police). Rouletabille at once rejoined the general, whistling. Feodor
+and Ermolai were deep in conversation about the Orel country. The young
+man did not disturb them. Then, soon, Matrena reappeared. He saw her
+come in quite radiant. He handed back her keys, and she took them
+mechanically. She was overjoyed and did not try to hide it. The general
+himself noticed it, and asked what had made her so.
+
+“It is my happiness over our first promenade since we arrived at the
+datcha des Iles,” she explained. “And now you must go upstairs to bed,
+Feodor. You will pass a good night, I am sure.”
+
+“I can sleep only if you sleep, Matrena.”
+
+“I promise you. It is quite possible now that we have our dear little
+domovoi. You know, Feodor, that he smokes his pipe just like the dear
+little porcelain domovoi.”
+
+“He does resemble him, he certainly does,” said Feodor. “That makes us
+feel happy, but I wish him to sleep also.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” smiled Rouletabille, “everybody will sleep here. That is the
+countersign. We have watched enough. Since the police are gone we can
+all sleep, believe me, general.”
+
+“Eh, eh, I believe you, on my word, easily enough. There were only they
+in the house capable of attempting that affair of the bouquet. I
+have thought that all out, and now I am at ease. And anyway, whatever
+happens, it is necessary to get sleep, isn’t it? The chances of war!
+Nichevo!” He pressed Rouletabille’s hand, and Matrena Petrovna took,
+as was her habit, Feodor Feodorovitch on her back and lugged him to his
+chamber. In that also she refused aid from anyone. The general clung to
+his wife’s neck during the ascent and laughed like a child. Rouletabille
+remained in the hallway, watching the garden attentively. Ermolai walked
+out of the villa and crossed the garden, going to meet a personage in
+uniform whom the young man recognized immediately as the grand-marshal
+of the court, who had introduced him to the Tsar. Ermolai informed him
+that Madame Matrena was engaged in helping her husband retire, and the
+marshal remained at the end of the garden where he had found Michael and
+Boris talking in the kiosque. All three remained there for some time
+in conversation, standing by a table where General and Madame Trebassof
+sometimes dined when they had no guests. As they talked the marshal
+played with a box of white cardboard tied with a pink string. At this
+moment Matrena, who had not been able to resist the desire to talk for
+a moment with Rouletabille and tell him how happy she was, rejoined the
+young man.
+
+“Little domovoi,” said she, laying her hand on his shoulder, “you have
+not watched on this side?”
+
+She pointed in her turn to the dining-room.
+
+“No, no. You have seen it, madame, and I am sufficiently informed.”
+
+“Perfectly. There is nothing. No one has worked there! No one has
+touched the board. I knew it. I am sure of it. It is dreadful what we
+have thought about it! Oh, you do not know how relieved and happy I
+am. Ah, Natacha, Natacha, I have not loved you in vain. (She pronounced
+these words in accents of great beauty and tragic sincerity.) When I saw
+her leave us, my dear, ah, my legs sank under me. When she said, ‘I have
+forgotten something; I must hurry back,’ I felt I had not the strength
+to go a single step. But now I certainly am happy, that weight at least
+is off my heart, off my heart, dear little domovoi, because of you,
+because of you.”
+
+She embraced him, and then ran away, like one possessed, to resume her
+post near the general.
+
+Notes in Rouletabille’s memorandum-book: The affair of the little cavity
+under the floor not having been touched again proves nothing for or
+against Natacha (even though that excellent Matrena Petrovna thinks
+so). Natacha could very well have been warned by the too great care with
+which Madame Matrena watched the floor. My opinion, since I saw Matrena
+lift the carpet the first time without any real precaution, is that they
+have definitely abandoned the preparation of that attack and are trying
+to account for the secret becoming known. What Matrena feels so sure
+of is that the trap I laid by the promenade to the Point was against
+Natacha particularly. I knew beforehand that Natacha would absent
+herself during the promenade. I’m not looking for anything new from
+Natacha, but what I did need was to be sure that Matrena didn’t detest
+Natacha, and that she had not faked the preparations for an attack under
+the floor in such a way as to throw almost certain suspicion on her
+step-daughter. I am sure about that now. Matrena is innocent of such a
+thing, the poor dear soul. If Matrena had been a monster the occasion
+was too good. Natacha’s absence, her solitary presence for a quarter of
+an hour in the empty villa, all would have urged Matrena, whom I sent
+alone to search under the carpet in the dining-room, to draw the last
+nails from the board if she was really guilty of having drawn the
+others. Natacha would have been lost then! Matrena returned sincerely,
+tragically happy at not having found anything new, and now I have the
+material proof that I needed. Morally and physically Matrena is removed
+from it. So I am going to speak to her about the hat-pin. I believe that
+the matter is urgent on that side rather than on the side of the nails
+in the floor.
+
+
+
+
+
+VI. THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+
+After the departure of Matrena, Rouletabille turned his attention to the
+garden. Neither the marshal of the court nor the officers were there any
+longer. The three men had disappeared. Rouletabille wished to know
+at once where they had gone. He went rapidly to the gate, named the
+officers and the marshal to Ermolai, and Ermolai made a sign that they
+had passed out. Even as he spoke he saw the marshal’s carriage disappear
+around a corner of the road. As to the two officers, they were nowhere
+on the roadway. He was surprised that the marshal should have gone
+without seeing Matrena or the general or himself, and, above all, he was
+disquieted by the disappearance of the orderlies. He gathered from the
+gestures of Ermolai that they had passed before the lodge only a
+few minutes after the marshal’s departure. They had gone together.
+Rouletabille set himself to follow them, traced their steps in the soft
+earth of the roadway and soon they crossed onto the grass. At this point
+the tracks through the massed ferns became very difficult to follow. He
+hurried along, bending close to the ground over such traces as he could
+see, which continually led him astray, but which conducted him finally
+to the thing that he sought. A noise of voices made him raise his head
+and then throw himself behind a tree. Not twenty steps from him Natacha
+and Boris were having an animated conversation. The young officer held
+himself erect directly in front of her, frowning and impatient. Under
+the uniform cloak that he had wrapped about him without having bothered
+to use the sleeves, which were tossed up over his chest, Boris had
+his arms crossed. His entire attitude indicated hauteur, coldness and
+disdain for what he was hearing. Natacha never appeared calmer or more
+mistress of herself. She talked to him rapidly and mostly in a low
+voice. Sometimes a word in Russian sounded, and then she resumed her
+care to speak low. Finally she ceased, and Boris, after a short silence,
+in which he had seemed to reflect deeply, pronounced distinctly these
+words in French, pronouncing them syllable by syllable, as though to
+give them additional force:
+
+“You ask a frightful thing of me.”
+
+“It is necessary to grant it to me,” said the young girl with singular
+energy. “You understand, Boris Alexandrovitch! It is necessary.”
+
+Her gaze, after she had glanced penetratingly all around her and
+discovered nothing suspicious, rested tenderly on the young officer,
+while she murmured, “My Boris!” The young man could not resist either
+the sweetness of that voice, nor the captivating charm of that glance.
+He took the hand she extended toward him and kissed it passionately. His
+eyes, fixed on Natacha, proclaimed that he granted everything that she
+wished and admitted himself vanquished. Then she said, always with that
+adorable gaze upon him, “This evening!” He replied, “Yes, yes. This
+evening! This evening!” upon which Natacha withdrew her hand and made a
+sign to the officer to leave, which he promptly obeyed. Natacha remained
+there still a long time, plunged in thought. Rouletabille had already
+taken the road back to the villa. Matrena Petrovna was watching for his
+return, seated on the first step of the landing on the great staircase
+which ran up from the veranda. When she saw him she ran to him. He had
+already reached the dining-room.
+
+“Anyone in the house?” he asked.
+
+“No one. Natacha has not returned, and...”
+
+“Your step-daughter is coming in now. Ask her where she has been, if she
+has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return this evening,
+in case she answers that she has seen them.”
+
+“Very well, little domovoi doukh. The orderlies left without my seeing
+when they went.”
+
+“Ah,” interrupted Rouletabille, “before she arrives, give me all her
+hat-pins.”
+
+“What!”
+
+“I say, all her hat-pins. Quickly!”
+
+Matrena ran to Natacha’s chamber and returned with three enormous
+hat-pins with beautifully-cut stones in them.
+
+“These are all?”
+
+“They are all I have found. I know she has two others. She has one on
+her head, or two, perhaps; I can’t find them.”
+
+“Take these back where you found them,” said the reporter, after
+glancing at them.
+
+Matrena returned immediately, not understanding what he was doing.
+
+“And now, your hat-pins. Yes, your hat-pins.”
+
+“Oh, I have only two, and here they are,” said she, drawing them from
+the toque she had been wearing and had thrown on the sofa when she
+re-entered the house.
+
+Rouletabille gave hers the same inspection.
+
+“Thanks. Here is your step-daughter.”
+
+Natacha entered, flushed and smiling.
+
+“Ah, well,” said she, quite breathless, “you may boast that I had to
+search for you. I made the entire round, clear past the Barque. Has the
+promenade done papa good?”
+
+“Yes, he is asleep,” replied Matrena. “Have you met Boris and Michael?”
+
+She appeared to hesitate a second, then replied:
+
+“Yes, for an instant.”
+
+“Did they say whether they would return this evening?”
+
+“No,” she replied, slightly troubled. “Why all these questions?”
+
+She flushed still more.
+
+“Because I thought it strange,” parried Matrena, “that they went away
+as they did, without saying goodby, without a word, without inquiring
+if the general needed them. There is something stranger yet. Did you see
+Kaltsof with them, the grand-marshal of the court?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Kaltsof came for a moment, entered the garden and went away again
+without seeing us, without saying even a word to the general.”
+
+“Ah,” said Natacha.
+
+With apparent indifference, she raised her arms and drew out her
+hat-pins. Rouletabille watched the pin without a word. The young girl
+hardly seemed aware of their presence. Entirely absorbed in strange
+thoughts, she replaced the pin in her hat and went to hang it in the
+veranda, which served also as vestibule. Rouletabille never quitted her
+eyes. Matrena watched the reporter with a stupid glance. Natacha crossed
+the drawing-room and entered her chamber by passing through her little
+sitting-room, through which all entrance to her chamber had to be made.
+That little room, though, had three doors. One opened into Natacha’s
+chamber, one into the drawing-room, and the third into the little
+passage in a corner of the house where was the stairway by which the
+servants passed from the kitchens to the ground-floor and the
+upper floor. This passage had also a door giving directly upon the
+drawing-room. It was certainly a poor arrangement for serving the
+dining-room, which was on the other side of the drawing-room and behind
+the veranda, such a chance laying-out of a house as one often sees in
+the off-hand planning of many places in the country.
+
+Alone again with Rouletabille, Matrena noticed that he had not lost
+sight of the corner of the veranda where Natacha had hung her hat.
+Beside this hat there was a toque that Ermolai had brought in. The old
+servant had found it in some corner of the garden or the conservatory
+where he had been. A hat-pin stuck out of that toque also.
+
+“Whose toque is that?” asked Rouletabille. “I haven’t seen it on the
+head of anyone here.”
+
+“It is Natacha’s,” replied Matrena.
+
+She moved toward it, but the young man held her back, went into the
+veranda himself, and, without touching it, standing on tiptoe, he
+examined the pin. He sank back on his heels and turned toward Matrena.
+She caught a glimpse of fleeting emotion on the face of her little
+friend.
+
+“Explain to me,” she said.
+
+But he gave her a glance that frightened her, and said low:
+
+“Go and give orders right away that dinner be served in the veranda.
+All through dinner it is absolutely necessary that the door of Natacha’s
+sitting-room, and that of the stairway passage, and that of the veranda
+giving on the drawing-room remain open all the time. Do you understand
+me? As soon as you have given your orders go to the general’s chamber
+and do not quit the general’s bedside, keep it in view. Come down to
+dinner when it is announced, and do not bother yourself about anything
+further.”
+
+So saying, he filled his pipe, lighted it with a sort of sigh of relief,
+and, after a final order to Matrena, “Go,” he went into the garden,
+puffing great clouds. Anyone would have said he hadn’t smoked in a week.
+He appeared not to be thinking but just idly enjoying himself. In fact,
+he played like a child with Milinki, Matrena’s pet cat, which he pursued
+behind the shrubs, up into the little kiosque which, raised on piles,
+lifted its steep thatched roof above the panorama of the isles that
+Rouletabille settled down to contemplate like an artist with ample
+leisure.
+
+The dinner, where Matrena, Natacha and Rouletabille were together again,
+was lively. The young man having declared that he was more and more
+convinced that the mystery of the bomb in the bouquet was simply a play
+of the police, Natacha reinforced his opinion, and following that they
+found themselves in agreement on about everything else. For himself, the
+reporter during that conversation hid a real horror which had seized him
+at the cynical and inappropriate tranquillity with which the young lady
+received all suggestions that accused the police or that assumed the
+general no longer ran any immediate danger. In short, he worked, or at
+least believed he worked, to clear Natacha as he had cleared Matrena,
+so that there would develop the absolute necessity of assuming a third
+person’s intervention in the facts disclosed so clearly by Koupriane
+where Matrena or Natacha seemed alone to be possible agents. As he
+listened to Natacha Rouletabille commenced to doubt and quake just as he
+had seen Matrena do. The more he looked into the nature of Natacha the
+dizzier he grew. What abysmal obscurities were there in her nature!
+
+Nothing interesting happened during dinner. Several times, in spite of
+Rouletabille’s obvious impatience with her for doing it, Matrena went up
+to the general. She returned saying, “He is quiet. He doesn’t sleep. He
+doesn’t wish anything. He has asked me to prepare his narcotic. It is
+too bad. He has tried in vain, he cannot get along without it.”
+
+“You, too, mamma, ought to take something to make you sleep. They say
+morphine is very good.”
+
+“As for me,” said Rouletabille, whose head for some few minutes had been
+dropping now toward one shoulder and now toward another, “I have no need
+of any narcotic to make me sleep. If you will permit me, I will get to
+bed at once.”
+
+“Eh, my little domovoi doukh, I am going to carry you there in my arms.”
+
+Matrena extended her large round arms ready to take Rouletabille as
+though he had been a baby.
+
+“No, no. I will get up there all right alone,” said Rouletabille, rising
+stupidly and appearing ashamed of his excessive sleepiness.
+
+“Oh, well, let us both accompany him to his chamber,” said Natacha, “and
+I will wish papa good-night. I’m eager for bed myself. We will all make
+a good night of it. Ermolai and Gniagnia will watch with the schwitzar
+in the lodge. Things are reasonably arranged now.”
+
+They all ascended the stairs. Rouletabille did not even go to see the
+general, but threw himself on his bed. Natacha got onto the bed beside
+her father, embraced him a dozen times, and went downstairs again.
+Matrena followed behind her, closed doors and windows, went upstairs
+again to close the door of the landing-place and found Rouletabille
+seated on his bed, his arms crossed, not appearing to have any desire
+for sleep at all. His face was so strangely pensive also that the
+anxiety of Matrena, who had been able to make nothing out of his acts
+and looks all day, came back upon her instantly in greater force than
+ever. She touched his arm in order to be sure that he knew she was
+there.
+
+“My little friend,” she said, “will you tell me now?”
+
+“Yes, madame,” he replied at once. “Sit in that chair and listen to
+me. There are things you must know at once, because we have reached a
+dangerous hour.”
+
+“The hat-pins first. The hat-pins!”
+
+Rouletabille rose lightly from the bed and, facing her, but watching
+something besides her, said:
+
+“It is necessary you should know that someone almost immediately is
+going to renew the attempt of the bouquet.”
+
+Matrena sprang to her feet as quickly as though she had been told there
+was a bomb in the seat of her chair. She made herself sit down again,
+however, in obedience to Rouletabille’s urgent look commanding absolute
+quiet.
+
+“Renew the attempt of the bouquet!” she murmured in a stifled voice.
+“But there is not a flower in the general’s chamber.”
+
+“Be calm, madame. Understand me and answer me: You heard the tick-tack
+from the bouquet while you were in your own chamber?”
+
+“Yes, with the doors open, naturally.”
+
+“You told me the persons who came to say good-night to the general. At
+that time there was no noise of tick-tack?”
+
+“No, no.”
+
+“Do you think that if there had been any tick-tack then you would have
+heard it, with all those persons talking in the room?”
+
+“I hear everything. I hear everything.”
+
+“Did you go downstairs at the same time those people did?”
+
+“No, no; I remained near the general for some time, until he was sound
+asleep.”
+
+“And you heard nothing?”
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“You closed the doors behind those persons?”
+
+“Yes, the door to the great staircase. The door of the servants’
+stairway was condemned a long time ago; it has been locked by me,
+I alone have the key and on the inside of the door opening into the
+general’s chamber there is also a bolt which is always shot. All the
+other doors of the chambers have been condemned by me. In order to enter
+any of the four rooms on this floor it is necessary now to pass by the
+door of my chamber, which gives on the main staircase.”
+
+“Perfect. Then, no one has been able to enter the apartment. No one
+had been in the apartment for at least two hours excepting you and the
+general, when you heard the clockwork. From that the only conclusion is
+that only the general and you could have started it going.”
+
+“What are you trying to say?” Matrena demanded, astounded.
+
+“I wish to prove to you by this absurd conclusion, madame, that it is
+necessary never--never, you understand? Never--to reason solely upon
+even the most evident external evidence when those seemingly-conclusive
+appearances are in conflict with certain moral truths that also are
+clear as the light of day. The light of day for me, madame, is that the
+general does not desire to commit suicide and, above all, that he would
+not choose the strange method of suicide by clockwork. The light of
+day for me is that you adore your husband and that you are ready to
+sacrifice your life for his.”
+
+“Now!” exclaimed Matrena, whose tears, always ready in emotional moments,
+flowed freely. “But, Holy Mary, why do you speak to me without looking
+at me? What is it? What is it?”
+
+“Don’t turn! Don’t make a movement! You hear--not a move! And speak low,
+very low. And don’t cry, for the love of God!”
+
+“But you say at once... the bouquet! Come to the general’s room!”
+
+“Not a move. And continue listening to me without interrupting,” said
+he, still inclining his ear, and still without looking at her. “It
+is because these things were as the light of day to me that I say to
+myself, ‘It is impossible that it should be impossible for a third
+person not to have placed the bomb in the bouquet. Someone is able to
+enter the general’s chamber even when the general is watching and all
+the doors are locked.’”
+
+“Oh, no. No one could possibly enter. I swear it to you.”
+
+As she swore it a little too loudly, Rouletabille seized her arm so that
+she almost cried out, but she understood instantly that it was to keep
+her quiet.
+
+“I tell you not to interrupt me, once for all.”
+
+“But, then, tell me what you are looking at like that.”
+
+“I am watching the corner where someone is going to enter the general’s
+chamber when everything is locked, madame. Do not move!”
+
+Matrena, her teeth chattering, recalled that when she entered
+Rouletabille’s chamber she had found all the doors open that
+communicated with the chain of rooms: the young man’s chamber with
+hers, the dressing-room and the general’s chamber. She tried, under
+Rouletabille’s look, to keep calm, but in spite of all the reporter’s
+exhortations she could not hold her tongue.
+
+“But which way? Where will they enter?”
+
+“By the door.”
+
+“Which door?”
+
+“That of the chamber giving on the servants’ stair-way.”
+
+“Why, how? The key! The bolt!”
+
+“They have made a key.”
+
+“But the bolt is drawn this side.”
+
+“They will draw it back from the other side.”
+
+“What! That is impossible.”
+
+Rouletabille laid his two hands on Matrena’s strong shoulders and
+repeated, detaching each syllable, “They will draw it back from the
+other side.”
+
+“It is impossible. I repeat it.”
+
+“Madame, your Nihilists haven’t invented anything. It is a trick much
+in vogue with sneak thieves in hotels. All it needs is a little hole the
+size of a pin bored in the panel of the door above the bolt.”
+
+“God!” quavered Matrena. “I don’t understand what you mean by your
+little hole. Explain to me, little domovoi.”
+
+“Follow me carefully, then,” continued Rouletabille, his eyes all the
+time fixed elsewhere. “The person who wishes to enter sticks through the
+hole a brass wire that he has already given the necessary curve to and
+which is fitted on its end with a light point of steel curved inward.
+With such an instrument it is child’s play, if the hole has been made
+where it ought to be, to touch the bolt on the inside from the outside,
+pick the knob on it, withdraw it, and open the door if the bolt is like
+this one, a small door-bolt.”
+
+“Oh, oh, oh,” moaned Matrena, who paled visibly. “And that hole?”
+
+“It exists.”
+
+“You have discovered it?”
+
+“Yes, the first hour I was here.”
+
+“Oh, domovoi! But how did you do that when you never entered the
+general’s chamber until to-night?”
+
+“Doubtless, but I went up that servants’ staircase much earlier than
+that. And I will tell you why. When I was brought into the villa the
+first time, and you watched me, bidden behind the door, do you know what
+I was watching myself, while I appeared to be solely occupied digging
+out the caviare? The fresh print of boot-nails which left the carpet
+near the table, where someone had spilled beer (the beer was still
+running down the cloth). Someone had stepped in the beer. The boot-print
+was not clearly visible excepting there. But from there it went to the
+door of the servants’ stairway and mounted the stairs. That boot was too
+fine to be mounting a stairway reserved to servants and that Koupriane
+told me had been condemned, and it was that made me notice it in a
+moment; but just then you entered.”
+
+“You never told me anything about it. Of course if I had known there was
+a boot-print...”
+
+“I didn’t tell you anything about it because I had my reasons for that,
+and, anyway, the trace dried while I was telling you about my journey.”
+
+“Ah, why not have told me later?”
+
+“Because I didn’t know you yet.”
+
+“Subtle devil! You will kill me. I can no longer... Let us go into the
+general’s chamber. We will wake him.”
+
+“Remain here. Remain here. I have not told you anything. That boot-print
+preoccupied me, and later, when I could get away from the dining-room,
+I was not easy until I had climbed that stairway myself and gone to see
+that door, where I discovered what I have just told you and what I am
+going to tell you now.”
+
+“What? What? In all you have said there has been nothing about the
+hat-pins.”
+
+“We have come to them now.”
+
+“And the bouquet attack, which is going to happen again? Why? Why?”
+
+“This is it. When this evening you let me go to the general’s chamber, I
+examined the bolt of the door without your suspecting it. My opinion was
+confirmed. It was that way that the bomb was brought, and it is by that
+way that someone has prepared to return.”
+
+“But how? You are sure the little hole is the way someone came? But what
+makes you think that is how they mean to return? You know well enough
+that, not having succeeded in the general’s chamber, they are at work in
+the dining-room.”
+
+“Madame, it is probable, it is certain that they have given up the work
+in the dining-room since they have commenced this very day working again
+in the general’s chamber. Yes, someone returned, returned that way, and
+I was so sure of that, of the forthcoming return, that I removed the
+police in order to be able to study everything more at my ease. Do you
+understand now my confidence and why I have been able to assume so heavy
+a responsibility? It is because I knew I had only one thing to watch:
+one little hat-pin. It is not difficult, madame, to watch a single
+little hat-pin.”
+
+“A mistake,” said Matrena, in a low voice. “Miserable little domovoi who
+told me nothing, me whom you let go to sleep on my mattress, in front of
+that door that might open any moment.”
+
+“No, madame. For I was behind it!”
+
+“Ah, dear little holy angel! But what were you thinking of! That door
+has not been watched this afternoon. In our absence it could have been
+opened. If someone has placed a bomb during our absence!”
+
+“That is why I sent you at once in to the dining-room on that search
+that I thought would be fruitless, dear madame. And that is why I
+hurried upstairs to the bedroom. I went to the stairway door instantly.
+I had prepared for proof positive if anyone had pushed it open even half
+a millimeter. No, no one had touched the door in our absence.
+
+“Ah, dear heroic little friend of Jesus! But listen to me. Listen to me,
+my angel. Ah, I don’t know where I am or what I say. My brain is no
+more than a flabby balloon punctured with pins, with little holes of
+hat-pins. Tell me about the hat-pins. Right off! No, at first, what is
+it that makes you believe--good God!--that someone will return by that
+door? How can you see that, all that, in a poor little hat-pin?”
+
+“Madame, it is not a single hat-pin hole; there are two of them.
+
+“Two hat-pin holes?”
+
+“Yes, two. An old one and a new one. One quite new. Why this second
+hole? Because the old one was judged a little too narrow and they wished
+to enlarge it, and in enlarging it they broke off the point of a hat-pin
+in it. Madame, the point is there yet, filling up the little old hole
+and the piece of metal is very sharp and very bright.”
+
+“Now I understand the examination of the hat-pins. Then it is so easy as
+that to get through a door with a hat-pin?”
+
+“Nothing easier, especially if the panel is of pine. Sometimes one
+happens to break the point of a pin in the first hole. Then of necessity
+one makes a second. In order to commence the second hole, the point of
+the pin being broken, they have used the point of a pen-knife, then have
+finished the hole with the hat-pin. The second hole is still nearer the
+bolt than the first one. Don’t move like that, madame.”
+
+“But they are going to come! They are going to come!”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“But I can’t understand how you can remain so quiet with such a
+certainty. Great heavens! what proof have you that they have not been
+there already?”
+
+“Just an ordinary pin, madame, not a hat-pin this time. Don’t confuse
+the pins. I will show you in a little while.”
+
+“He will drive me distracted with his pins, dear light of my eyes!
+Bounty of Heaven! God’s envoy! Dear little happiness-bearer!”
+
+In her transport she tried to take him in her trembling arms, but he
+waved her back. She caught her breath and resumed:
+
+“Did the examination of all the hat-pins tell you anything?”
+
+“Yes. The fifth hat-pin of Mademoiselle Natacha’s, the one in the toque
+out in the veranda, has the tip newly broken off.”
+
+“O misery!” cried Matrena, crumpling in her chair.
+
+Rouletabille raised her.
+
+“What would you have? I have examined your own hat-pins. Do you think
+I would have suspected you if I had found one of them broken? I
+would simply have thought that someone had used your property for an
+abominable purpose, that is all.”
+
+“Oh, that is true, that is true. Pardon me. Mother of Christ, this boy
+crazes me! He consoles me and he horrifies me. He makes me think of such
+dreadful things, and then he reassures me. He does what he wishes with
+me. What should I become without him?”
+
+And this time she succeeded in taking his head in her two hands and
+kissing him passionately. Rouletabille pushed her back roughly.
+
+“You keep me from seeing,” he said.
+
+She was in tears over his rebuff. She understood now. Rouletabille
+during all this conversation had not ceased to watch through the open
+doors of Matrena’s room and the dressing-room the farther fatal door
+whose brass bolt shone in the yellow light of the night-lamp.
+
+At last he made her a sign and the reporter, followed by Matrena,
+advanced on tip-toe to the threshold of the general’s chamber, keeping
+close to the wall. Feodor Feodorovitch slept. They heard his heavy
+breath, but he appeared to be enjoying peaceful sleep. The horrors of
+the night before had fled. Matrena was perhaps right in attributing the
+nightmares to the narcotic prepared for him each night, for the glass
+from which he drank it when he felt he could not sleep was still full
+and obviously had not been touched. The bed of the general was so placed
+that whoever occupied it, even if they were wide awake, could not see
+the door giving on the servants’ stairway. The little table where the
+glass and various phials were placed and which had borne the dangerous
+bouquet, was placed near the bed, a little back of it, and nearer the
+door. Nothing would have been easier than for someone who could open
+the door to stretch an arm and place the infernal machine among the wild
+flowers, above all, as could easily be believed, if he had waited
+for that treachery until the heavy breathing of the general told them
+outside that he was fast asleep, and if, looking through the key-hole,
+he had made sure Matrena was occupied in her own chamber. Rouletabille,
+at the threshold, glided to one side, out of the line of view from the
+hole, and got down on all fours. He crawled toward the door. With his
+head to the floor he made sure that the little ordinary pin which he had
+placed on guard that evening, stuck in the floor against the door, was
+still erect, having thus additional proof that the door had not been
+moved. In any other case the pin would have lain flat on the floor. He
+crept back, rose to his feet, passed into the dressing-room and, in a
+corner, had a rapid conversation in a low voice with Matrena.
+
+“You will go,” said he, “and take your mattress into the corner of the
+dressing-room where you can still see the door but no one can see you
+by looking through the key-hole. Do that quite naturally, and then go
+to your rest. I will pass the night on the mattress, and I beg you to
+believe that I will be more comfortable there than on a bed of staircase
+wood where I spent the night last night, behind the door.”
+
+“Yes, but you will fall asleep. I don’t wish that.”
+
+“What are you thinking, madame?”
+
+“I don’t wish it. I don’t wish it. I don’t wish to quit the door where
+the eye is. And since I’m not able to sleep, let me watch.”
+
+He did not insist, and they crouched together on the mattress.
+Rouletabille was squatted like a tailor at work; but Matrena remained on
+all-fours, her jaw out, her eyes fixed, like a bulldog ready to spring.
+The minutes passed by in profound silence, broken only by the irregular
+breathing and puffing of the general. His face stood out pallid and
+tragic on the pillow; his mouth was open and, at times, the lips
+moved. There was fear at any moment of nightmare or his awakening.
+Unconsciously he threw an arm over toward the table where the glass
+of narcotic stood. Then he lay still again and snored lightly. The
+night-lamp on the mantelpiece caught queer yellow reflections from the
+corners of the furniture, from the gilded frame of a picture on the wall
+and from the phials and glasses on the table. But in all the chamber
+Matrena Petrovna saw nothing, thought of nothing but the brass bolt
+which shone there on the door. Tired of being on her knees, she shifted,
+her chin in her hands, her gaze steadily fixed. As time passed and
+nothing happened she heaved a sigh. She could not have said whether she
+hoped for or dreaded the coming of that something new which Rouletabille
+had indicated. Rouletabille felt her shiver with anguish and impatience.
+
+As for him, he had not hoped that anything would come to pass until
+toward dawn, the moment, as everyone knows, when deep sleep is most apt
+to vanquish all watchfulness and all insomnia. And as he waited for that
+moment he had not budged any more than a Chinese ape or the dear little
+porcelain domovoi doukh in the garden. Of course it might be that it was
+not to happen this night.
+
+Suddenly Matrena’s hand fell on Rouletabille’s. His imprisoned hers so
+firmly that she understood she was forbidden to make the least movement.
+And both, with necks extended, ears erect, watched like beasts, like
+beasts on the scent.
+
+Yes, yes, there had been a slight noise in the lock. A key turned,
+softly, softly, in the lock, and then--silence; and then another little
+noise, a grinding sound, a slight grating of wire, above, then on the
+bolt; upon the bolt which shone in the subdued glow of the night-lamp.
+The bolt softly, very softly, slipped slowly.
+
+Then the door was pushed slowly, so slowly. It opened.
+
+Through the opening the shadow of an arm stretched, an arm which held
+in its fingers something which shone. Rouletabille felt Matrena ready to
+bound. He encircled her, he pressed her in his arms, he restrained her
+in silence, and he had a horrible fear of hearing her suddenly shout,
+while the arm stretched out, almost touched the pillow on the bed where
+the general continued to sleep a sleep of peace such as he had not known
+for a long time.
+
+
+
+
+
+VII. ARSENATE OF SODA
+
+The mysterious hand held a phial and poured the entire contents into the
+potion. Then the hand withdrew as it had come, slowly, prudently, slyly,
+and the key turned in the lock and the bolt slipped back into place.
+
+Like a wolf, Rouletabille, warning Matrena for a last time not to budge,
+gained the landing-place, bounded towards the stairs, slid down the
+banister right to the veranda, crossed the drawing-room like a flash,
+and reached the little sitting-room without having jostled a single
+piece of furniture. He noticed nothing, saw nothing. All around was
+undisturbed and silent.
+
+The first light of dawn filtered through the blinds. He was able to
+make out that the only closed door was the one to Natacha’s chamber. He
+stopped before that door, his heart beating, and listened. But no sound
+came to his ear. He had glided so lightly over the carpet that he was
+sure he had not been heard. Perhaps that door would open. He waited. In
+vain. It seemed to him there was nothing alive in that house except his
+heart. He was stifled with the horror that he glimpsed, that he almost
+touched, although that door remained closed. He felt along the wall
+in order to reach the window, and pulled aside the curtain. Window and
+blinds of the little room giving on the Neva were closed. The bar of
+iron inside was in its place. Then he went to the passage, mounted and
+descended the narrow servants’ stairway, looked all about, in all the
+rooms, feeling everywhere with silent hands, assuring himself that no
+lock had been tampered with. On his return to the veranda, as he raised
+his head, he saw at the top of the main staircase a figure wan as death,
+a spectral apparition amid the shadows of the passing night, who leaned
+toward him. It was Matrena Petrovna. She came down, silent as a phantom
+and he no longer recognized her voice when she demanded of him, “Where?
+I require that you tell me. Where?”
+
+“I have looked everywhere,” he said, so low that Matrena had to come
+nearer to understand his whisper. “Everything is shut tight. And there
+is no one about.”
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille with all the power of her eyes, as though
+she would discover his inmost thoughts, but his clear glance did not
+waver, and she saw there was nothing he wished to hide. Then Matrena
+pointed her finger at Natacha’s chamber.
+
+“You have not gone in there?” she inquired.
+
+He replied, “It is not necessary to enter there.”
+
+“I will enter there, myself, nevertheless,” said she, and she set her
+teeth.
+
+He barred her way with his arms spread out.
+
+“If you hold the life of someone dear,” said he, “don’t go a step
+farther.”
+
+“But the person is in that chamber. The person is there! It is there
+you will find out!” And she waved him aside with a gesture as though she
+were sleepwalking.
+
+To recall her to the reality of what he had said to her and to make her
+understand what he desired, he had to grip her wrist in the vice of his
+nervous hand.
+
+“The person is not there, perhaps,” he said, shaking his head. “Understand me
+now.”
+
+But she did not understand him. She said:
+
+“Since the person is nowhere else, the person must be there.”
+
+But Rouletabille continued obstinately:
+
+“No, no. Perhaps he is gone.”
+
+“Gone! And everything locked on the inside!”
+
+“That is not a reason,” he replied.
+
+But she could not follow his thoughts any further. She wished absolutely
+to make her way into Natacha’s chamber. The obsession of that was upon
+her.
+
+“If you enter there,” said he, “and if (as is most probable) you don’t
+find what you seek there, all is lost! And as to me, I give up the whole
+thing.”
+
+She sank in a heap onto a chair.
+
+“Don’t despair,” he murmured. “We don’t know for sure yet.”
+
+She shook her poor old head dejectedly.
+
+“We know that only she is here, since no one has been able to enter and
+since no one has been able to leave.”
+
+That, in truth, filled her brain, prevented her from discerning in any
+corner of her mind the thought of Rouletabille. Then the impossible
+dialogue resumed.
+
+“I repeat that we do not know but that the person has gone,” repeated
+the reporter, and demanded her keys.
+
+“Foolish,” she said. “What do you want them for?”
+
+“To search outside as we have searched inside.”
+
+“Why, everything is locked on the inside!”
+
+“Madame, once more, that is no reason that the person may not be
+outside.”
+
+He consumed five minutes opening the door of the veranda, so many were
+his precautions. She watched him impatiently.
+
+He whispered to her:
+
+“I am going out, but don’t you lose sight of the little sitting-room. At
+the least movement call me; fire a revolver if you need to.”
+
+He slipped into the garden with the same precautions for silence. From
+the corner that she kept to, through the doors left open, Matrena could
+follow all the movements of the reporter and watch Natacha’s chamber
+at the same time. The attitude of Rouletabille continued to confuse her
+beyond all expression. She watched what he did as if she thought him
+besotted. The dyernick on guard out in the roadway also watched the
+young man through the bars of the gate in consternation, as though he
+thought him a fool. Along the paths of beaten earth or cement which
+offered no chance for footprints Rouletabille hurried silently. Around
+him he noted that the grass of the lawn had not been trodden. And then
+he paid no more attention to his steps. He seemed to study attentively
+the rosy color in the east, breathing the delicacy of dawning morning in
+the Isles, amid the silence of the earth, which still slumbered.
+
+Bare-headed, face thrown back, hands behind his back, eyes raised and
+fixed, he made a few steps, then suddenly stopped as if he had been
+given an electric shock. As soon as he seemed to have recovered from
+that shock he turned around and went a few steps back to another path,
+into which he advanced, straight ahead, his face high, with the same
+fixed look that he had had up to the time he so suddenly stopped, as
+if something or someone advised or warned him not to go further. He
+continually worked back toward the house, and thus he traversed all the
+paths that led from the villa, but in all these excursions he took pains
+not to place himself in the field of vision from Natacha’s window, a
+restricted field because of its location just around an abutment of the
+building. To ascertain about this window he crept on all-fours up to the
+garden-edge that ran along the foot of the wall and had sufficient proof
+that no one had jumped out that way. Then he went to rejoin Matrena in
+the veranda.
+
+“No one has come into the garden this morning,” said he, “and no one has
+gone out of the villa into the garden. Now I am going to look outside
+the grounds. Wait here; I’ll be back in five minutes.”
+
+He went away, knocked discreetly on the window of the lodge and waited
+some seconds. Ermolai came out and opened the gate for him. Matrena
+moved to the threshold of the little sitting-room and watched Natacha’s
+door with horror. She felt her legs give under her, she could not stand
+up under the diabolic thought of such a crime. Ah, that arm, that arm!
+reaching out, making its way, with a little shining phial in its hand.
+Pains of Christ! What could there be in the damnable books over which
+Natacha and her companions pored that could make such abominable crimes
+possible? Ah, Natacha, Natacha! it was from her that she would have
+desired the answer, straining her almost to stifling on her rough bosom
+and strangling her with her own strong hand that she might not hear the
+response. Ah, Natacha, Natacha, whom she had loved so much! She sank to
+the floor, crept across the carpet to the door, and lay there, stretched
+like a beast, and buried her head in her arms while she wept over her
+daughter. Natacha, Natacha, whom she had cherished as her own child, and
+who did not hear her. Ah, what use that the little fellow had gone to
+search outside when the whole truth lay behind this door? Thinking of
+him, she was embarrassed lest he should find her in that animalistic
+posture, and she rose to her knees and worked her way over to the window
+that looked out upon the Neva. The angle of the slanting blinds let her
+see well enough what passed outside, and what she saw made her
+spring to her feet. Below her the reporter was going through the same
+incomprehensible maneuvers that she had seen him do in the garden. Three
+pathways led to the little road that ran along the wall of the villa
+by the bank of the Neva. The young man, still with his hands behind his
+back and with his face up, took them one after the other. In the first
+he stopped at the first step. He didn’t take more than two steps in the
+second. In the third, which cut obliquely toward the right and seemed to
+run to the bank nearest Krestowsky Ostrow, she saw him advance slowly at
+first, then more quickly among the small trees and hedges. Once only
+he stopped and looked closely at the trunk of a tree against which he
+seemed to pick out something invisible, and then he continued to the
+bank. There he sat down on a stone and appeared to reflect, and then
+suddenly he cast off his jacket and trousers, picked out a certain place
+on the bank across from him, finished undressing and plunged into the
+stream. She saw at once that he swam like a porpoise, keeping beneath
+and showing his head from time to time, breathing, then diving below the
+surface again. He reached Krestowsky Ostrow in a clump of reeds. Then he
+disappeared. Below him, surrounded by trees, could be seen the red tiles
+of the villa which sheltered Boris and Michael. From that villa a
+person could see the window of the sitting-room in General Trebassof’s
+residence, but not what might occur along the bank of the river
+just below its walls. An isvotchick drove along the distant route of
+Krestowsky, conveying in his carriage a company of young officers and
+young women who had been feasting and who sang as they rode; then deep
+silence ensued. Matrena’s eyes searched for Rouletabille, but could not
+find him. How long was he going to stay hidden like that? She pressed
+her face against the chill window. What was she waiting for? She waited
+perhaps for someone to make a move on this side, for the door near her
+to open and the traitorous figure of The Other to appear.
+
+A hand touched her carefully. She turned.
+
+Rouletabille was there, his face all scarred by red scratches, without
+collar or neck-tie, having hastily resumed his clothes. He appeared
+furious as he surprised her in his disarray. She let him lead her as
+though she were a child. He drew her to his room and closed the door.
+
+“Madame,” he commenced, “it is impossible to work with you. Why in the
+world have you wept not two feet from your step-daughter’s door? You and
+your Koupriane, you commence to make me regret the Faubourg Poissoniere,
+you know. Your step-daughter has certainly heard you. It is lucky that
+she attaches no importance at all to your nocturnal phantasmagorias, and
+that she has been used to them a long time. She has more sense than you,
+Mademoiselle Natacha has. She sleeps, or at least she pretends to sleep,
+which leaves everybody in peace. What reply will you give her if it
+happens that she asks you the reason to-day for your marching and
+counter-marching up and down the sitting-room and complains that you
+kept her from sleeping?”
+
+Matrena only shook her old, old head.
+
+“No, no, she has not heard me. I was there like a shadow, like a shadow
+of myself. She will never hear me. No one hears a shadow.”
+
+Rouletabille felt returning pity for her and spoke more gently.
+
+“In any case, it is necessary, you must understand, that she should
+attach no more importance to what you have done to-night than to the
+things she knows of your doing other nights. It is not the first time,
+is it, that you have wandered in the sitting-room? You understand me?
+And to-morrow, madame, embrace her as you always have.”
+
+“No, not that,” she moaned. “Never that. I could not.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+Matrena did not reply. She wept. He took her in his arms like a child
+consoling its mother.
+
+“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. All is not lost. Someone did leave the villa this
+morning.”
+
+“Oh, little domovoi! How is that? How is that? How did you find that
+out?”
+
+“Since we didn’t find anything inside, it was certainly necessary to
+find something outside.”
+
+“And you have found it?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“The Virgin protect you!”
+
+“SHE is with us. She will not desert us. I will even say that I believe
+she has a special guardianship over the Isles. She watches over them
+from evening to morning.”
+
+“What are you saying?”
+
+“Certainly. You don’t know what we call in France ‘the watchers of the
+Virgin’?”
+
+“Oh, yes, they are the webs that the dear little beasts of the good God
+spin between the trees and that...”
+
+“Exactly. You understand me and you will understand further when you
+know that in the garden the first thing that struck me across the face
+as I went into it was these watchers of the Virgin spun by the dear
+little spiders of the good God. At first when I felt them on my face I
+said to myself, ‘Hold on, no one has passed this way,’ and so I went to
+search other places. The webs stopped me everywhere in the garden. But,
+outside the garden, they kept out of the way and let me pass undisturbed
+down a pathway which led to the Neva. So then I said to myself, ‘Now,
+has the Virgin by accident overlooked her work in this pathway? Surely
+not. Someone has ruined it.’ I found the shreds of them hanging to the
+bushes, and so I reached the river.”
+
+“And you threw yourself into the river, my dear angel. You swim like a
+little god.”
+
+“And I landed where the other landed. Yes, there were the reeds all
+freshly broken. And I slipped in among the bushes.”
+
+“Where to?”
+
+“Up to the Villa Krestowsky, madame--where they both live.”
+
+“Ah, it was from there someone came?”
+
+There was a silence between them.
+
+She questioned:
+
+“Boris?”
+
+“Someone who came from the villa and who returned there. Boris or
+Michael, or another. They went and returned through the reeds. But in
+coming they used a boat; they returned by swimming.”
+
+Her customary agitation reasserted itself.
+
+She demanded ardently:
+
+“And you are sure that he came here and that he left here?”
+
+“Yes, I am sure of it.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“By the sitting-room window.”
+
+“It is impossible, for we found it locked.”
+
+“It is possible, if someone closed it behind him.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+She commenced to tremble again, and, falling back into her nightmarish
+horror, she no longer wasted fond expletives on her domovoi as on a dear
+little angel who had just rendered a service ten times more precious to
+her than life. While he listened patiently, she said brutally:
+
+“Why did you keep me from throwing myself on him, from rushing upon him
+as he opened the door? Ah, I would have, I would have... we would know.”
+
+“No. At the least noise he would have closed the door. A turn of the key
+and he would have escaped forever. And he would have been warned.”
+
+“Careless boy! Why then, if you knew he was going to come, didn’t you
+leave me in the bedroom and you watch below yourself?”
+
+“Because so long as I was below he would not have come. He only comes
+when there is no one downstairs.”
+
+“Ah, Saints Peter and Paul pity a poor woman. Who do you think it is,
+then? Who do you think it is? I can’t think any more. Tell me, tell me
+that. You ought to know--you know everything. Come--who? I demand the
+truth. Who? Still some agent of the Committee, of the Central Committee?
+Still the Nihilists?”
+
+“If it was only that!” said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+“You have sworn to drive me mad! What do you mean by your ‘if it was
+only that’?”
+
+Rouletabille, imperturbable, did not reply.
+
+“What have you done with the potion?” said he.
+
+“The potion? The glass of the crime! I have locked it in my room, in the
+cupboard--safe, safe!”
+
+“Ah, but, madame, it is necessary to replace it where you took it from.”
+
+“What!”
+
+“Yes, after having poured the poison into a phial, to wash the glass and
+fill it with another potion.”
+
+“You are right. You think of everything. If the general wakes and wants
+his potion, he must not be suspicious of anything, and he must be able
+to have his drink.”
+
+“It is not necessary that he should drink.”
+
+“Well, then, why have the drink there?”
+
+“So that the person can be sure, madame, that if he has not drunk it is
+simply because he has not wished to. A pure chance, madame, that he is
+not poisoned. You understand me this time?”
+
+“Yes, yes. O Christ! But how now, if the general wakes and wishes to
+drink his narcotic?”
+
+“Tell him I forbid it. And here is another thing you must do.
+When--Someone--comes into the general’s chamber, in the morning, you
+must quite openly and naturally throw out the potion, useless and vapid,
+you see, and so Someone will have no right to be astonished that the
+general continues to enjoy excellent health.”
+
+“Yes, yes, little one; you are wiser than King Solomon. And what will I
+do with the phial of poison?”
+
+“Bring it to me.”
+
+“Right away.”
+
+She went for it and returned five minutes later.
+
+“He is still asleep. I have put the glass on the table, out of his
+reach. He will have to call me.”
+
+“Very good. Then push the door to, close it; we have to talk things
+over.”
+
+“But if someone goes back up the servants’ staircase?”
+
+“Be easy about that. They think the general is poisoned already. It is
+the first care-free moment I have been able to enjoy in this house.”
+
+“When will you stop making me shake with horror, little demon! You keep
+your secret well, I must say. The general is sleeping better than if he
+really were poisoned. But what shall we do about Natacha? I dare ask you
+that--you and you alone.”
+
+“Nothing at all.”
+
+“How--nothing?”
+
+“We will watch her...”
+
+“Ah, yes, yes.”
+
+“Still, Matrena, you let me watch her by myself.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I promise you. I will not pay any attention to her. That
+is promised. That is promised. Do as you please. Why, just now, when I
+spoke of the Nihilists to you, did you say, ‘If it were only that!’? You
+believe, then, that she is not a Nihilist? She reads such things--things
+like on the barricades...”
+
+“Madame, madame, you think of nothing but Natacha. You have promised me
+not to watch her; promise me not to think about her.”
+
+“Why, why did you say, ‘If it was only that!’?”
+
+“Because, if there were only Nihilists in your affair, dear madame, it
+would be too simple, or, rather, it would have been more simple. Can
+you possibly believe, madame, that simply a Nihilist, a Nihilist who was
+only a Nihilist, would take pains that his bomb exploded from a vase of
+flowers?--that it would have mattered where, so long as it overwhelmed
+the general? Do you imagine that the bomb would have had less effect
+behind the door than in front of it? And the little cavity under the
+floor, do you believe that a genuine revolutionary, such as you have
+here in Russia, would amuse himself by penetrating to the villa only
+to draw out two nails from a board, when one happens to give him
+time between two visits to the dining-room? Do you suppose that a
+revolutionary who wished to avenge the dead of Moscow and who could
+succeed in getting so far as the door behind which General Trebassof
+slept would amuse himself by making a little hole with a pin in order
+to draw back the bolt and amuse himself by pouring poison into a glass?
+Why, in such a case, he would have thrown his bomb outright, whether it
+blew him up along with the villa, or he was arrested on the spot, or had
+to submit to the martyrdom of the dungeons in the Fortress of SS. Peter
+and Paul, or be hung at Schlusselburg. Isn’t that what always happens?
+That is the way he would have done, and not have acted like a hotel-rat!
+Now, there is someone in your home (or who comes to your home) who acts
+like a hotel-rat because he does not wish to be seen, because he does
+not wish to be discovered, because he does not wish to be taken in the
+act. Now, the moment that he fears nothing so much as to be taken in
+the act, so that he plays all these tricks of legerdemain, it is certain
+that his object lies beyond the act itself, beyond the bomb, beyond
+the poison. Why all this necessity for bombs of deferred explosion, for
+clockwork placed where it will be confused with other things, and not on
+a bare staircase forbidden to everybody, though you visit it twenty times
+a day?”
+
+“But this man comes in as he pleases by day and by night? You don’t
+answer. You know who he is, perhaps?”
+
+“I know him, perhaps, but I am not sure who it is yet.”
+
+“You are not curious, little domovoi doukh! A friend of the house,
+certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because
+someone opens the window for him. And who comes from the Krestowsky
+Villa! Boris or Michael! Ah, poor miserable Matrena! Why don’t they
+kill poor Matrena? Their general! Their general! And they are
+soldiers--soldiers who come at night to kill their general. Aided by--by
+whom? Do you believe that? You? Light of my eyes! you believe that! No,
+no, that is not possible! I want you to understand, monsieur le domovoi,
+that I am not able to believe anything so horrible. No, no, by Jesus
+Christ Who died on the Cross, and Who searches our hearts, I do not
+believe that Boris--who, however, has very advanced ideas, I admit--it
+is necessary not to forget that; very advanced; and who composes very
+advanced verses also, as I have always told him--I will not believe that
+Boris is capable of such a fearful crime. As to Michael, he is an honest
+man, and my daughter, my Natacha, is an honest girl. Everything looks
+very bad, truly, but I do not suspect either Michael or Boris or my pure
+and beloved Natacha (even though she has made a translation into French
+of very advanced verses, certainly most improper for the daughter of a
+general). That is what lies at the bottom of my mind, the bottom of my
+heart--you have understood me perfectly, little angel of paradise? Ah,
+it is you the general owes his life to, that Matrena owes her life.
+Without you this house would already be a coffin. How shall I ever
+reward you? You wish for nothing! I annoy you! You don’t even listen to
+me! A coffin--we would all be in our coffins! Tell me what you desire.
+All that I have belongs to you!”
+
+“I desire to smoke a pipe.
+
+“Ah, a pipe! Do you want some yellow perfumed tobacco that I receive
+every month from Constantinople, a treat right from the harem? I will
+get enough for you, if you like it, to smoke ten thousand pipes full.”
+
+“I prefer caporal,” replied Rouletabille. “But you are right. It is not
+wise to suspect anybody. See, watch, wait. There is always time, once
+the game is caught, to say whether it is a hare or a wild boar. Listen
+to me, then, my good mamma. We must know first what is in the phial.
+Where is it?”
+
+“Here it is.”
+
+She drew it from her sleeve. He stowed it in his pocket.
+
+“You wish the general a good appetite, for me. I am going out. I will be
+back in two hours at the latest. And, above all, don’t let the general
+know anything. I am going to see one of my friends who lives in
+the Aptiekarski pereolek.” *
+
+     * The little street of the apothecaries.
+
+“Depend on me, and get back quickly for love of me. My blood clogs in my
+heart when you are not here, dear servant of God.”
+
+She mounted to the general’s room and came down at least ten times to
+see if Rouletabille had not returned. Two hours later he was around the
+villa, as he had promised. She could not keep herself from running to
+meet him, for which she was scolded.
+
+“Be calm. Be calm. Do you know what was in the phial?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Arsenate of soda, enough to kill ten people.”
+
+“Holy Mary!”
+
+“Be quiet. Go upstairs to the general.”
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch was in charming humor. It was his first good night
+since the death of the youth of Moscow. He attributed it to his not
+having touched the narcotic and resolved, once more, to give up the
+narcotic, a resolve Rouletabille and Matrena encouraged. During the
+conversation there was a knock at the door of Matrena’s chamber. She ran
+to see who was there, and returned with Natacha, who wished to embrace
+her father. Her face showed traces of fatigue. Certainly she had not
+passed as good a night as her father, and the general reproached her for
+looking so downcast.
+
+“It is true. I had dreadful dreams. But you, papa, did you sleep well?
+Did you take your narcotic?”
+
+“No, no, I have not touched a drop of my potion.”
+
+“Yes, I see. Oh, well, that is all right; that is very good. Natural
+sleep must be coming back...”
+
+Matrena, as though hypnotized by Rouletabille, had taken the glass from
+the table and ostentatiously carried it to the dressing-room to throw it
+out, and she delayed there to recover her self-possession.
+
+Natacha continued:
+
+“You will see, papa, that you will be able to live just like everyone
+else finally. The great thing was to clear away the police, the
+atrocious police; wasn’t it, Monsieur Rouletabille?”
+
+“I have always said, for myself, that I am entirely of Mademoiselle
+Natacha’s mind. You can be entirely reassured now, and I shall leave
+you feeling reassured. Yes, I must think of getting my interviews done
+quickly, and departing. Ah well, I can only say what I think. Run things
+yourselves and you will not run any danger. Besides, the general gets
+much better, and soon I shall see you all in France, I hope. I must
+thank you now for your friendly hospitality.”
+
+“Ah, but you are not going? You are not going!” Matrena had already set
+herself to protest with all the strenuous torrent of words in her
+poor desolated heart, when a glance from the reporter cut short her
+despairing utterances.
+
+“I shall have to remain a week still in the city. I have engaged a
+chamber at the Hotel de France. It is necessary. I have so many people
+to see and to receive. I will come to make you a little visit from time
+to time.”
+
+“You are then quite easy,” demanded the general gravely, “at leaving me
+all alone?”
+
+“Entirely easy. And, besides, I don’t leave you all alone. I leave you
+with Madame Trebassof and Mademoiselle. I repeat: All three of you stay
+as I see you now. No more police, or, in any case, the fewest possible.”
+
+“He is right, he is right,” repeated Natacha again.
+
+At this moment there were fresh knocks at the door of Matrena’s chamber.
+It was Ermolai, who announced that his Excellency the Marshal of the
+Court, Count Keltzof, wished to see the general, acting for His Majesty.
+
+“Go and receive the Count, Natacha, and tell him that your father will
+be downstairs in a moment.”
+
+Natacha and Rouletabille went down and found the Count in the
+drawing-room. He was a magnificent specimen, handsome and big as one
+of the Swiss papal guard. He seemed watchful in all directions and all
+among the furniture, and was quite evidently disquieted. He advanced
+immediately to meet the young lady, inquiring the news.
+
+“It is all good news,” replied Natacha. “Everybody here is splendid. The
+general is quite gay. But what news have you, monsieur le marechal? You
+appear preoccupied.”
+
+The marshal had pressed Rouletabille’s hand.
+
+“And my grapes?” he demanded of Natacha.
+
+“How, your grapes? What grapes?”
+
+“If you have not touched them, so much the better. I arrived here very
+anxious. I brought you yesterday, from Krasnoie-Coelo, some of the
+Emperor’s grapes that Feodor Feodorovitch enjoyed so much. Now
+this morning I learned that the eldest son of Doucet, the French
+head-gardener of the Imperial conservatories at Krasnoie, had died from
+eating those grapes, which he had taken from those gathered for me to
+bring here. Imagine my dismay. I knew, however, that at the general’s
+table, grapes would not be eaten without having been washed, but I
+reproached myself for not having taken the precaution of leaving word
+that Doucet recommend that they be washed thoroughly. Still, I don’t
+suppose it would matter. I couldn’t see how my gift could be dangerous,
+but when I learned of little Doucet’s death this morning, I jumped into
+the first train and came straight here.”
+
+“But, your Excellency,” interrupted Natacha, “we have not seen your
+grapes.”
+
+“Ah, they have not been served yet? All the better. Thank goodness!”
+
+“The Emperor’s grapes are diseased, then?” interrogated Rouletabille.
+“Phylloxera pest has got into the conservatories?”
+
+“Nothing can stop it, Doucet told me. So he didn’t want me to leave last
+evening until he had washed the grapes. Unfortunately, I was pressed
+for time and I took them as they were, without any idea that the mixture
+they spray on the grapes to protect them was so deadly. It appears that
+in the vineyard country they have such accidents every year. They call
+it, I think, the... the mixture...”
+
+“The Bordeaux mixture,” was heard in Rouletabille’s trembling voice “And
+do you know what it is, Your Excellency, this Bordeaux mixture?”
+
+“Why, no.”
+
+At this moment the general came down the stairs, clinging to the
+banister and supported by Matrena Petrovna.
+
+“Well,” continued Rouletabille, watching Natacha, “the Bordeaux mixture
+which covered the grapes you brought the general yesterday was nothing
+more nor less than arsenate of soda.”
+
+“Ah, God!” cried Natacha.
+
+As for Matrena Petrovna, she uttered a low exclamation and let go the
+general, who almost fell down the staircase. Everybody rushed. The
+general laughed. Matrena, under the stringent look of Rouletabille,
+stammered that she had suddenly felt faint. At last they were all
+together in the veranda. The general settled back on his sofa and
+inquired:
+
+“Well, now, were you just saying something, my dear marshal, about some
+grapes you have brought me?”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said Natacha, quite frightened, “and what he said isn’t
+pleasant at all. The son of Doucet, the court gardener, has just been
+poisoned by the same grapes that monsieur le marschal, it appears,
+brought you.”
+
+“Where was this? Grapes? What grapes? I haven’t seen any grapes!”
+ exclaimed Matrena. “I noticed you, yesterday, marshal, out in the
+garden, but you went away almost immediately, and I certainly was
+surprised that you did not come in. What is this story?”
+
+“Well, we must clear this matter up. It is absolutely necessary that we
+know what happened to those grapes.”
+
+“Certainly,” said Rouletabille, “they could cause a catastrophe.”
+
+“If it has not happened already,” fretted the marshal.
+
+“But how? Where are they? Whom did you give them to?”
+
+“I carried them in a white cardboard box, the first one that came to
+hand in Doucet’s place. I came here the first time and didn’t find you.
+I returned again with the box, and the general was just lying down.
+I was pressed for my train and Michael Nikolaievitch and Boris
+Alexandrovitch were in the garden, so I asked them to execute my
+commission, and I laid the box down near them on the little garden
+table, telling them not to forget to tell you it was necessary to wash
+the grapes as Doucet expressly recommended.”
+
+“But it is unbelievable! It is terrible!” quavered Matrena. “Where can
+the grapes be? We must know.”
+
+“Absolutely,” approved Rouletabille.
+
+“We must ask Boris and Michael,” said Natacha. “Good God! surely they
+have not eaten them! Perhaps they are sick.”
+
+“Here they are,” said the general. All turned. Michael and Boris were
+coming up the steps. Rouletabille, who was in a shadowed corner under
+the main staircase, did not lose a single play of muscle on the two
+faces which for him were two problems to solve. Both faces were smiling;
+too smiling, perhaps.
+
+“Michael! Boris! Come here,” cried Feodor Feodorovitch. “What have you
+done with the grapes from monsieur le marechal?”
+
+They both looked at him upon this brusque interrogation, seemed not to
+understand, and then, suddenly recalling, they declared very naturally
+that they had left them on the garden table and had not thought about
+them.
+
+“You forgot my caution, then?” said Count Kaltzof severely.
+
+“What caution?” said Boris. “Oh, yes, the washing of the grapes.
+Doucet’s caution.”
+
+“Do you know what has happened to Doucet with those grapes? His eldest
+son is dead, poisoned. Do you understand now why we are anxious to know
+what has become of my grapes?”
+
+“But they ought to be out there on the table,” said Michael.
+
+“No one can find them anywhere,” declared Matrena, who, no less than
+Rouletabille, watched every change in the countenances of the two
+officers. “How did it happen that you went away yesterday evening
+without saying good-bye, without seeing us, without troubling yourselves
+whether or not the general might need you?”
+
+“Madame,” said Michael, coldly, in military fashion, as though he
+replied to his superior officer himself, “we have ample excuse to offer
+you and the general. It is necessary that we make an admission, and the
+general will pardon us, I am sure. Boris and I, during the promenade,
+happened to quarrel. That quarrel was in full swing when we reached here
+and we were discussing the way to end it most promptly when monsieur
+le marechal entered the garden. We must make that our excuse for giving
+divided attention to what he had to say. As soon as he was gone we had
+only one thought, to get away from here to settle our difference with
+arms in our hands.”
+
+“Without speaking to me about it!” interrupted Trehassof. “I never will
+pardon that.”
+
+“You fight at such a time, when the general is threatened! It is as
+though you fought between yourselves in the face of the enemy. It is
+treason!” added Matrena.
+
+“Madame,” said Boris, “we did not fight. Someone pointed out our fault,
+and I offered my excuses to Michael Nikolaievitch, who generously
+accepted them. Is that not so, Michael Nikolaievitch?”
+
+“And who is this that pointed out your fault?” demanded the marshal.
+
+“Natacha.”
+
+“Bravo, Natacha. Come, embrace me, my daughter.”
+
+The general pressed his daughter effusively to his broad chest.
+
+“And I hope you will not have further disputing,” he cried, looking over
+Natacha’s shoulder.
+
+“We promise you that, General,” declared Boris. “Our lives belong to
+you.”
+
+“You did well, my love. Let us all do as well. I have passed an
+excellent night, messieurs. Real sleep! I have had just one long sleep.”
+
+“That is so,” said Matrena slowly. “The general had no need of narcotic.
+He slept like a child and did not touch his potion.”
+
+“And my leg is almost well.”
+
+“All the same, it is singular that those grapes should have
+disappeared,” insisted the marshal, following his fixed idea.
+
+“Ermolai,” called Matrena.
+
+The old servant appeared.
+
+“Yesterday evening, after these gentlemen had left the house, did you
+notice a small white box on the garden table?”
+
+“No, Barinia.”
+
+“And the servants? Have any of them been sick? The dvornicks? The
+schwitzar? In the kitchens? No one sick? No? Go and see; then come and
+tell me.”
+
+He returned, saying, “No one sick.”
+
+Like the marshal, Matrena Petrovna and Feodor Feodorovitch looked at one
+another, repeating in French, “No one sick! That is strange!”
+
+Rouletabille came forward and gave the only explanation that was
+plausible--for the others.
+
+“But, General, that is not strange at all. The grapes have been stolen
+and eaten by some domestic, and if the servant has not been sick it is
+simply that the grapes monsieur le marechal brought escaped the spraying
+of the Bordeaux mixture. That is the whole mystery.”
+
+“The little fellow must be right,” cried the delighted marshal.
+
+“He is always right, this little fellow,” beamed Matrena, as proudly as
+though she had brought him into the world.
+
+But “the little fellow,” taking advantage of the greetings as Athanase
+Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch arrived, left the villa, gripping in his
+pocket the phial which held what is required to make grapes flourish
+or to kill a general who is in excellent health. When he had gone a few
+hundred steps toward the bridges one must cross to go into the city, he
+was overtaken by a panting dvornick, who brought him a letter that had
+just come by courier. The writing on the envelope was entirely unknown
+to him. He tore it open and read, in excellent French:
+
+“Request to M. Joseph Rouletabille not to mix in matters that do not
+concern him. The second warning will be the last.” It was signed: “The
+Central Revolutionary Committee.”
+
+“So, ho!” said Rouletabille, slipping the paper into his pocket, “that’s
+the line it takes, is it! Happily I have nothing more to occupy myself
+with at all. It is Koupriane’s turn now! Now to go to Koupriane’s!”
+
+On this date, Rouletabille’s note-book: “Natacha to her father: ‘But
+you, papa, have you had a good night? Did you take your narcotic?’
+
+“Fearful, and (lest I confuse heaven and hell) I have no right to
+take any further notes.” *
+
+     * As a matter of fact, after this day no more notes are
+     found in Rouletabille’s memorandum-book. The last one is
+     that above, bizarre and romantic, and necessary, as
+     Sainclair, the Paris advocate and friend of Rouletabille,
+     indicates opposite it in the papers from which we have taken
+     all the details of this story.
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII. THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+
+Rouletabille took a long walk which led him to the Troitsky Bridge,
+then, re-descending the Naberjnaia, he reached the Winter Palace.
+He seemed to have chased away all preoccupation, and took a child’s
+pleasure in the different aspects of the life that characterizes the
+city of the Great Peter. He stopped before the Winter Palace, walked
+slowly across the square where the prodigious monolith of the Alexander
+Column rises from its bronze socket, strolled between the palace and the
+colonnades, passed under an immense arch: everything seemed Cyclopean to
+him, and he never had felt so tiny, so insignificant. None the less he
+was happy in his insignificance, he was satisfied with himself in the
+presence of these colossal things; everything pleased him this morning.
+The speed of the isvos, the bickering humor of the osvotchicks, the
+elegance of the women, the fine presences of the officers and their easy
+naturalness under their uniforms, so opposed to the wooden posturing of
+the Berlin military men whom he had noticed at the “Tilleuls” and in
+the Friederichstrasse between two trains. Everything enchanted him--the
+costume even of the moujiks, vivid blouses, the red shirts over
+the trousers, the full legs and the boots up to the knees, even the
+unfortunates who, in spite of the soft atmosphere, were muffled up in
+sheepskin coats, all impressed him favorably, everything appeared to him
+original and congenial.
+
+Order reigned in the city. The guards were polite, decorative and
+superb in bearing. The passers-by in that quarter talked gayly among
+themselves, often in French, and had manners as civilized as anywhere
+in the world. Where, then, was the Bear of the North? He never had seen
+bears so well licked. Was it this very city that only yesterday was in
+revolution? This was certainly the Alexander Park where troops a few
+weeks before had fired on children who had sought refuge in the trees,
+like sparrows. Was this the very pavement where the Cossacks had left
+so many bodies? Finally he saw before him the Nevsky Prospect, where
+the bullets rained like hail not long since upon a people dressed for
+festivities and very joyous. Nichevo! Nichevo! All that was so
+soon forgotten. They forgot yesterday as they forget to-morrow. The
+Nihilists? Poets, who imagined that a bomb could accomplish anything
+in that Babylon of the North more important than the noise of its
+explosion! Look at these people who pass. They have no more thought
+for the old attack than for those now preparing in the shadow of the
+“tracktirs.” Happy men, full of serenity in this bright quarter, who
+move about their affairs and their pleasures in the purest air, the
+lightest, the most transparent on earth. No, no; no one knows the joy of
+mere breathing if he has not breathed the air there, the finest in
+the north of the world, which gives food and drink of beautiful white
+eau-de-vie and yellow pivo, and strikes the blood and makes one a beast
+vigorous and joyful and fatalistic, and mocks at the Nihilists and,
+as well, at the ten thousand eyes of the police staring from under the
+porches of houses, from under the skulls of dvornicks--all police, the
+dvornicks; all police, also the joyous concierges with extended hands.
+Ah, ah, one mocks at it all in such air, provided one has roubles
+in one’s pockets, plenty of roubles, and that one is not besotted by
+reading those extraordinary books that preach the happiness of all
+humanity to students and to poor girl-students too. Ah, ah, seed of the
+Nihilists, all that! These poor little fellows and poor little girls who
+have their heads turned by lectures that they cannot digest! That is
+all the trouble, the digestion. The digestion is needed. Messieurs the
+commercial travelers for champagne, who talk together importantly in
+the lobbies of the Grand Morskaia Hotel and who have studied the Russian
+people even in the most distant cities where champagne is sold, will
+tell you that over any table of hors-d’oeuvres, and will regulate the
+whole question of the Revolution between two little glasses of vodka,
+swallowed properly, quickly, elbow up, at a single draught, in the
+Russian manner. Simply an affair of digestion, they tell you. Who is the
+fool that would dare compare a young gentleman who has well digested
+a bottle of champagne or two, and another young man who has poorly
+digested the lucubrations of, who shall we say?--the lucubrations of the
+economists? The economists? The economists! Fools who compete which
+can make the most violent statements! Those who read them and don’t
+understand them go off like a bomb! Your health! Nichevo! The world goes
+round still, doesn’t it?
+
+Discussion political, economic, revolutionary, and other in the room
+where they munch hors-d’oeuvres! You will hear it all as you pass
+through the hotel to your chamber, young Rouletabille. Get quickly
+now to the home of Koupriane, if you don’t wish to arrive there at
+luncheon-time; then you would have to put off these serious affairs
+until evening.
+
+The Department of Police. Massive entrance, heavily guarded, a great
+lobby, halls with swinging doors, many obsequious schwitzars on the
+lookout for tips, many poor creatures sitting against the walls on dirty
+benches, desks and clerks, brilliant boots and epaulets of gay young
+officers who are telling tales of the Aquarium with great relish.
+
+“Monsieur Rouletabille! Ah, yes. Please be seated. Delighted, M.
+Koupriane will be very happy to receive you, but just at this moment he
+is at inspection. Yes, the inspection of the police dormitories in
+the barracks. We will take you there. His own idea! He doesn’t neglect
+anything, does he? A great Chief. Have you seen the police-guards’
+dormitory? Admirable! The first dormitories of the world. We say that
+without wishing to offend France. We love France. A great nation! I will
+take you immediately to M. Koupriane. I shall be delighted.”
+
+“I also,” said Rouletabille, who put a rouble into the honorable
+functionary’s hand.
+
+“Permit me to precede you.”
+
+Bows and salutes. For two roubles he would have walked obsequiously
+before him to the end of the world.
+
+“These functionaries are admirable,” thought Rouletabille as he was led
+to the barracks. He felt he had not paid too much for the services of a
+personage whose uniform was completely covered with lace. They tramped,
+they climbed, they descended. Stairways, corridors. Ah, the barracks at
+last. He seemed to have entered a convent. Beds very white, very narrow,
+and images of the Virgin and saints everywhere, monastic neatness and
+the most absolute silence. Suddenly an order sounded in the corridor
+outside, and the police-guard, who sprang from no one could tell where,
+stood to attention at the head of their beds. Koupriane and his aide
+appeared. Koupriane looked at everything closely, spoke to each man in
+turn, called them by their names, inquired about their needs, and
+the men stammered replies, not knowing what to answer, reddening like
+children. Koupriane observed Rouletabille. He dismissed his aide with
+a gesture. The inspection was over. He drew the young man into a little
+room just off the dormitory. Rouletabille, frightened, looked about him.
+He found himself in a chapel. This little chapel completed the effect of
+the guards’ dormitory. It was all gilded, decorated in marvelous colors,
+thronged with little ikons that bring happiness, and, naturally, with
+the portrait of the Tsar, the dear Little Father.
+
+“You see,” said Koupriane, smiling at Rouletabille’s amazement, “we deny
+them nothing. We give them their saints right here in their quarters.”
+ Closing the door, he drew a chair toward Rouletabille and motioned him
+to sit down. They sat before the little altar loaded with flowers, with
+colored paper and winged saints.
+
+“We can talk here without being disturbed,” he said. “Yonder there is
+such a crowd of people waiting for me. I’m ready to listen.”
+
+“Monsieur,” said Rouletabille, “I have come to give you the report of my
+mission here, and to terminate my connection with it. All that is left
+for clearing this obscure affair is to arrest the guilty person, with
+which I have nothing to do. That concerns you. I simply inform you that
+someone tried to poison the general last night by pouring arsenate of
+soda into his sleeping-potion, which I bring you in this phial, arsenate
+which was secured most probably by washing it from grapes brought to
+General Trebassof by the marshal of the court, and which disappeared
+without anyone being able to say how.”
+
+“Ah, ah, a family affair, a plot within the family. I told you so,”
+ murmured Koupriane.
+
+“The affair at least has happened within the family, as you think,
+although the assassin came from outside. Contrary to what you may be
+able to believe, he does not live in the house.”
+
+“Then how does he get there?” demanded Koupriane.
+
+“By the window of the room overlooking the Neva. He has often come that
+way. And that is the way he returns also, I am sure. It is there you can
+take him if you act with prudence.”
+
+“How do you know he often comes that way?”
+
+“You know the height of the window above the little roadway. To reach it
+he uses a water-trough, whose iron rings are bent, and also the marks of
+a grappling-iron that he carries with him and uses to hoist himself to
+the window are distinctly visible on the ironwork of the little balcony
+outside. The marks are quite obviously of different dates.”
+
+“But that window is closed.”
+
+“Someone opens it for him.”
+
+“Who, if you please?”
+
+“I have no desire to know.”
+
+“Eh, yes. It necessarily is Natacha. I was sure that the Villa des Iles
+had its viper. I tell you she doesn’t dare leave her nest because she
+knows she is watched. Not one of her movements outside escapes us! She
+knows it. She has been warned. The last time she ventured outside alone
+was to go into the old quarters of Derewnia. What has she to do in such
+a rotten quarter? I ask you that. And she turned in her tracks without
+seeing anyone, without knocking at a single door, because she saw that
+she was followed. She isn’t able to get to see them outside, therefore
+she has to see them inside.”
+
+“They are only one, and always the same one.”
+
+“Are you sure?”
+
+“An examination of the marks on the wall and on the pipe doesn’t leave
+any doubt of it, and it is always the same grappling-iron that is used
+for the window.”
+
+“The viper!”
+
+“Monsieur Koupriane, Mademoiselle Natacha seems to preoccupy you
+exceedingly. I did not come here to talk about Mademoiselle Natacha. I
+came to point out to you the route used by the man who comes to do the
+murder.”
+
+“Eh, yes, it is she who opens the way.”
+
+“I can’t deny that.”
+
+“The little demon! Why does she take him into her room at night? Do you
+think perhaps there is some love-affair...?”
+
+“I am sure of quite the opposite.”
+
+“I too. Natacha is not a wanton. Natacha has no heart. She has only a
+brain. And it doesn’t take long for a brain touched by Nihilism to get
+so it won’t hesitate at anything.”
+
+Koupriane reflected a minute, while Rouletabille watched him in silence.
+
+“Have we solely to do with Nihilism?” resumed Koupriane. “Everything you
+tell me inclines me more and more to my idea: a family affair, purely in
+the family. You know, don’t you, that upon the general’s death Natacha
+will be immensely rich?”
+
+“Yes, I know it,” replied Rouletabille, in a voice that sounded singular
+to the ear of the Chief of Police and which made him raise his head.
+
+“What do you know?”
+
+“I? Nothing,” replied the reporter, this time in a firmer tone. “I
+ought, however, to say this to you: I am sure that we are dealing with
+Nihilism...”
+
+“What makes you believe it?”
+
+“This.”
+
+And Rouletabille handed Koupriane the message he had received that same
+morning.
+
+“Oh, oh,” cried Koupriane. “You are under watch! Look out.”
+
+“I have nothing to fear; I’m not bothering myself about anything
+further. Yes, we have an affair of the revolutionaries, but not of the
+usual kind. The way they are going about it isn’t like one of their
+young men that the Central Committee arms with a bomb and who is
+sacrificed in advance.”
+
+“Where are the tracks that you have traced?”
+
+“Right up to the little Krestowsky Villa.”
+
+Koupriane bounded from his chair.
+
+“Occupied by Boris. Parbleu! Now we have them. I see it all now. Boris,
+another cracked brain! And he is engaged. If he plays the part of the
+Revolutionaries, the affair would work out big for him.”
+
+“That villa,” said Rouletabille quietly, “is also occupied by Michael
+Korosakoff.”
+
+“He is the most loyal, the most reliable soldier of the Tsar.”
+
+“No one is ever sure of anything, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.”
+
+“Oh, I am sure of a man like that.”
+
+“No man is ever sure of any man, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.”
+
+“I am, in every case, for those I employ.”
+
+“You are wrong.”
+
+“What do you say?”
+
+“Something that can serve you in the enterprise you are going to
+undertake, because I trust you can catch the murderer right in his nest.
+To do that, I’ll not conceal from you that I think your agents will have
+to be enormously clever. They will have to watch the datcha des Iles at
+night, without anyone possibly suspecting it. No more maroon coats with
+false astrakhan trimmings, eh? But Apaches, Apaches on the wartrail, who
+blend themselves with the ground, with the trees, with the stones in the
+roadway. But among those Apaches don’t send that agent of your Secret
+Service who watched the window while the assassin climbed to it.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Why, these climbs that you can read the proofs of on the wall and on
+the iron forgings of the balcony went on while your agents, night and
+day, were watching the villa. Have you noticed, monsieur, that it was
+always the same agent who took the post at night, behind the villa,
+under the window? General Trebassof’s book in which he kept a statement
+of the exact disposal of each of your men during the period of siege was
+most instructive on that point. The other posts changed in turn, but the
+same agent, when he was among the guard, demanded always that same post,
+which was not disputed by anybody, since it is no fun to pass the hours
+of the night behind a wall, in an empty field. The others much preferred
+to roll away the time watching in the villa or in front of the lodge,
+where vodka and Crimean wine, kwass and pivo, kirsch and tchi, never ran
+short. That agent’s name is Touman.”
+
+“Touman! Impossible! He is one of the best agents from Kiew. He was
+recommended by Gounsovski.”
+
+Rouletabille chuckled.
+
+“Yes, yes, yes,” grumbled the Chief of Police. “Someone always laughs
+when his name is mentioned.”
+
+Koupriane had turned red. He rose, opened the door, gave a long
+direction in Russian, and returned to his chair.
+
+“Now,” said he, “go ahead and tell me all the details of the poison and
+the grapes the marshal of the court brought. I’m listening.”
+
+Rouletabille told him very briefly and without drawing any deductions
+all that we already know. He ended his account as a man dressed in a
+maroon coat with false astrakhan was introduced. It was the same man
+Rouletabille had met in General Trebassof’s drawing-room and who
+spoke French. Two gendarmes were behind him. The door had been closed.
+Koupriane turned toward the man in the coat.
+
+“Touman,” he said, “I want to talk to you. You are a traitor, and I have
+proof. You can confess to me, and I will give you a thousand roubles and
+you can take yourself off to be hanged somewhere else.”
+
+The man’s eyes shrank, but he recovered himself quickly. He replied in
+Russian.
+
+“Speak French. I order it,” commanded Koupriane.
+
+“I answer, Your Excellency,” said Touman firmly, “that I don’t know what
+Your Excellency means.”
+
+“I mean that you have helped a man get into the Trebassof villa by night
+when you were on guard under the window of the little sitting-room.
+You see that there is no use deceiving us any longer. I play with you
+frankly, good play, good money. The name of that man, and you have a
+thousand roubles.”
+
+“I am ready to swear on the ikon of...”
+
+“Don’t perjure yourself.”
+
+“I have always loyally served...”
+
+“The name of that man.”
+
+“I still don’t know yet what Your Excellency means.”
+
+“Oh, you understand me,” replied Koupriane, who visibly held in an anger
+that threatened to break forth any moment. “A man got into the house
+while you were watching...”
+
+“I never saw anything. After all, it is possible. There were some very
+dark nights. I went back and forth.”
+
+“You are not a fool. The name of that man.”
+
+“I assure you, Excellency...”
+
+“Strip him.”
+
+“What are you going to do?” cried Rouletabille.
+
+But already the two guards had thrown themselves on Touman and had drawn
+off his coat and shirt. The man was bare to the waist.
+
+“What are you going to do? What are you going to do?”
+
+“Leave them alone,” said Koupriane, roughly pushing Rouletabille back.
+
+Seizing a whip which hung at the waist of the guards he struck Touman a
+blow across the shoulders that drew blood. Touman, mad with the outrage
+and the pain, shouted, “Yes, it is true! I brag of it!”
+
+Koupriane did not restrain his rage. He showered the unhappy man with
+blows, having thrown Rouletabille to the end of the room when he tried
+to interfere. And while he proceeded with the punishment the Chief of
+Police hurled at the agent who had betrayed him an accompaniment of
+fearful threats, promising him that before he was hanged he should rot
+in the bottom-most dungeon of Peter and Paul, in the slimy pits lying
+under the Neva. Touman, between the two guards who held him, and who
+sometimes received blows on the rebound that were not intended for them,
+never uttered a complaint. Outside the invectives of Koupriane there
+was heard only the swish of the cords and the cries of Rouletabille,
+who continued to protest that it was abominable, and called the Chief
+of Police a savage. Finally the savage stopped. Gouts of blood had
+spattered all about.
+
+“Monsieur,” said Rouletabille, who supported himself against the wall.
+“I shall complain to the Tsar.”
+
+“You are right,” Koupriane replied, “but I feel relieved now. You can’t
+imagine the harm this man can have done to us in the weeks he has been
+here.”
+
+Touman, across whose shoulders they had thrown his coat and who lay now
+across a chair, found strength to look up and say:
+
+“It is true. You can’t do me as much harm as I have done you, whether
+you think so or not. All the harm that can be done me by you and yours
+is already accomplished. My name is not Touman, but Matiev. Listen. I
+had a son that was the light of my eyes. Neither my son nor I had ever
+been concerned with politics. I was employed in Moscow. My son was a
+student. During the Red Week we went out, my son and I, to see a little
+of what was happening over in the Presnia quarter. They said everybody
+had been killed over there! We passed before the Presnia gate. Soldiers
+called to us to stop because they wished to search us. We opened our
+coats. The soldiers saw my son’s student waistcoat and set up a cry.
+They unbuttoned the vest, drew a note-book out of his pocket and they
+found a workman’s song in it that had been published in the Signal.
+The soldiers didn’t know how to read. They believed the paper was a
+proclamation, and they arrested my son. I demanded to be arrested with
+him. They pushed me away. I ran to the governor’s house. Trebassof
+had me thrust away from his door with blows from the butt-ends of his
+Cossacks’ guns. And, as I persisted, they kept me locked up all that
+night and the morning of the next day. At noon I was set free. I
+demanded my son and they replied they didn’t know what I was talking
+about. But a soldier that I recognized as having arrested my son the
+evening before pointed out a van that was passing, covered with a
+tarpaulin and surrounded by Cossacks. ‘Your son is there,’ he said;
+‘they are taking him to the graves.’ Mad with despair, I ran after the
+van. It went to the outskirts of Golountrine cemetery. There I saw
+in the white snow a huge grave, wide, deep. I shall see it to my last
+minute. Two vans had already stopped near the hole. Each van held
+thirteen corpses. The vans were dumped into the trench and the soldiers
+commenced to sort the bodies into rows of six. I watched for my son.
+At last I recognized him in a body that half hung over the edge of the
+trench. Horrors of suffering were stamped in the expression of his face.
+I threw myself beside him. I said that I was his father. They let me
+embrace him a last time and count his wounds. He had fourteen. Someone
+had stolen the gold chain that had hung about his neck and held the
+picture of his mother, who died the year before. I whispered into his
+ear, I swore to avenge him. Forty-eight hours later I had placed myself
+at the disposition of the Revolutionary Committee. A week had not passed
+before Touman, whom, it seems, I resemble and who was one of the Secret
+Service agents in Kiew, was assassinated in the train that was taking
+him to St. Petersburg. The assassination was kept a secret. I received
+all his papers and I took his place with you. I was doomed beforehand
+and I asked nothing better, so long as I might last until after the
+execution of Trebassof. Ah, how I longed to kill him with my own hands!
+But another had already been assigned the duty and my role was to help
+him. And do you suppose I am going to tell you the name of that other?
+Never! And if you discover that other, as you have discovered me,
+another will come, and another, and another, until Trebassof has paid
+for his crimes. That is all I have to say to you, Koupriane. As for you,
+my little fellow,” added he, turning to Rouletabille, “I wouldn’t
+give much for your bones. Neither of you will last long. That is my
+consolation.”
+
+Koupriane had not interrupted the man. He looked at him in silence,
+sadly.
+
+“You know, my poor man, you will be hanged now?” he said.
+
+“No,” growled Rouletabille. “Monsieur Koupriane, I’ll bet you my purse
+that he will not be hanged.”
+
+“And why not?” demanded the Chief of rolice, while, upon a sign from
+him, they took away the false Touman.
+
+“Because it is I who denounced him.”
+
+“What a reason! And what would you like me to do?”
+
+“Guard him for me; for me alone, do you understand?”
+
+“In exchange for what?”
+
+“In exchange for the life of General Trebassof, if I must put it that
+way.”
+
+“Eh? The life of General Trebassof! You speak as if it belonged to you,
+as if you could dispose of it.”
+
+Rouletabille laid his hand on Koupriane’s arm.
+
+“Perhaps that’s so,” said he.
+
+“Would you like me to tell you one thing, Monsieur Rouletabille? It is
+that General Trebassof’s life, after what has just escaped the lips of
+this Touman, who is not Touman, isn’t worth any more than--than yours if
+you remain here. Since you are disposed not to do anything more in this
+affair, take the train, monsieur, take the train, and go.”
+
+Rouletabille walked back and forth, very much worked up; then suddenly
+he stopped short.
+
+“Impossible,” he said. “It is impossible. I cannot; I am not able to go
+yet.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Good God, Monsieur Koupriane, because I have to interview the President
+of the Duma yet, and complete my little inquiry into the politics of the
+cadets.”
+
+“Oh, indeed!”
+
+Koupriane looked at him with a sour grin.
+
+“What are you going to do with that man?” demanded Rouletabille.
+
+“Have him fixed up first.”
+
+“And then?”
+
+“Then take him before the judges.”
+
+“That is to say, to the gallows?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Monsieur Koupriane, I offer it to you again. Life for life. Give me the
+life of that poor devil and I promise you General Trebassof’s.”
+
+“Explain yourself.”
+
+“Not at all. Do you promise me that you will maintain silence about the
+case of that man and that you will not touch a hair of his head?”
+
+Koupriane looked at Rouletabille as he had looked at him during the
+altercation they had on the edge of the Gulf. He decided the same way
+this time.
+
+“Very well,” said he. “You have my word. The poor devil!”
+
+“You are a brave man, Monsieur Koupriane, but a little quick with the
+whip...”
+
+“What would you expect? One’s work teaches that.”
+
+“Good morning. No, don’t trouble to show me out. I am compromised enough
+already,” said Rouletabille, laughing.
+
+“Au revoir, and good luck! Get to work interviewing the President of the
+Duma,” added Koupriane knowingly, with a great laugh.
+
+But Rouletabille was already gone.
+
+“That lad,” said the Chief of Police aloud to himself, “hasn’t told me a
+bit of what he knows.”
+
+
+
+
+
+IX. ANNOUCHKA
+
+“And now it’s between us two, Natacha,” murmured Rouletabille as soon
+as he was outside. He hailed the first carriage that passed and gave the
+address of the datcha des Iles. When he got in he held his head between
+his hands; his face burned, his jaws were set. But by a prodigious
+effort of his will he resumed almost instantly his calm, his
+self-control. As he went back across the Neva, across the bridge where
+he had felt so elated a little while before, and saw the isles again he
+sighed heavily. “I thought I had got it all over with, so far as I was
+concerned, and now I don’t know where it will stop.” His eyes grew dark
+for a moment with somber thoughts and the vision of the Lady in Black
+rose before him; then he shook his head, filled his pipe, lighted it,
+dried a tear that had been caused doubtless by a little smoke in his
+eye, and stopped sentimentalizing. A quarter of an hour later he gave
+a true Russian nobleman’s fist-blow in the back to the coachman as an
+intimation that they had reached the Trebassof villa. A charming picture
+was before him. They were all lunching gayly in the garden, around the
+table in the summer-house. He was astonished, however, at not seeing
+Natacha with them. Boris Mourazoff and Michael Korsakoff were there.
+Rouletabille did not wish to be seen. He made a sign to Ermolai, who was
+passing through the garden and who hurried to meet him at the gate.
+
+“The Barinia,” said the reporter, in a low voice and with his finger to
+his lips to warn the faithful attendant to caution.
+
+In two minutes Matrena Petrovna joined Rouletabille in the lodge.
+
+“Well, where is Natacha?” he demanded hurriedly as she kissed his hands
+quite as though she had made an idol of him.
+
+“She has gone away. Yes, out. Oh, I did not keep her. I did not try
+to hold her back. Her expression frightened me, you can understand, my
+little angel. My, you are impatient! What is it about? How do we stand?
+What have you decided? I am your slave. Command me. Command me. The keys
+of the villa?”
+
+“Yes, give me a key to the veranda; you must have several. I must be
+able to get into the house to-night if it becomes necessary.”
+
+She drew a key from her gown, gave it to the young man and said a few
+words in Russian to Ermolai, to enforce upon him that he must obey the
+little domovoi-doukh in anything, day or night.
+
+“Now tell me where Natacha has gone.”
+
+“Boris’s parents came to see us a little while ago, to inquire after
+the general. They have taken Natacha away with them, as they often have
+done. Natacha went with them readily enough. Little domovoi, listen to
+me, listen to Matrena Petrovna--Anyone would have said she was expecting
+it!”
+
+“Then she has gone to lunch at their house?”
+
+“Doubtless, unless they have gone to a cafe. I don’t know. Boris’s
+father likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine.
+Calm yourself, little domovoi. What ails you? Bad news, eh? Any bad
+news?”
+
+“No, no; everything is all right. Quick, the address of Boris’s family.”
+
+“The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la Poste.”
+
+“Good. Thank you. Adieu.”
+
+He started for the Place St. Isaac, and picked up an interpreter at the
+Grand Morskaia Hotel on the way. It might be useful to have him. At the
+Place St. Isaac he learned the Morazoffs and Natacha Trebassof had
+gone by train for luncheon at Bergalowe, one of the nearby stations in
+Finland.
+
+“That is all,” said he, and added apart to himself, “And perhaps that is
+not true.”
+
+He paid the coachman and the interpreter, and lunched at the Brasserie
+de Vienne nearby. He left there a half-hour later, much calmer. He
+took his way to the Grand Morskaia Hotel, went inside and asked the
+schwitzar:
+
+“Can you give me the address of Mademoiselle Annouchka?”
+
+“The singer of the Krestowsky?”
+
+“That is who I mean.”
+
+“She had luncheon here. She has just gone away with the prince.”
+
+Without any curiosity as to which prince, Rouletabille cursed his luck
+and again asked for her address.
+
+“Why, she lives in an apartment just across the way.”
+
+Rouletabille, feeling better, crossed the street, followed by the
+interpreter that he had engaged. Across the way he learned on the
+landing of the first floor that Mademoiselle Annouchka was away for the
+day. He descended, still followed by his interpreter, and recalling
+how someone had told him that in Russia it was always profitable to be
+generous, he gave five roubles to the interpreter and asked him for some
+information about Mademoiselle Annouchka’s life in St. Petersburg. The
+interpreter whispered:
+
+“She arrived a week ago, but has not spent a single night in her
+apartment over there.”
+
+He pointed to the house they had just left, and added:
+
+“Merely her address for the police.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Rouletabille, “I understand. She sings this evening,
+doesn’t she?”
+
+“Monsieur, it will be a wonderful debut.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I know. Thanks.”
+
+All these frustrations in the things he had undertaken that day instead
+of disheartening him plunged him deep into hard thinking. He returned,
+his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, to the Place St. Isaac,
+walked around the church, keeping an eye on the house at the corner,
+investigated the monument, went inside, examined all its details, came
+out marveling, and finally went once again to the residence of the
+Mourazoffs, was told that they had not yet returned from the Finland
+town, then went and shut himself in his room at the hotel, where he
+smoked a dozen pipes of tobacco. He emerged from his cloud of smoke at
+dinner-time.
+
+At ten that evening he stepped out of his carriage before the
+Krestowsky. The establishment of Krestowsky, which looms among the Isles
+much as the Aquarium does, is neither a theater, nor a music-hall, nor a
+cafe-concert, nor a restaurant, nor a public garden; it is all of these
+and some other things besides. Summer theater, winter theater, open-air
+theater, hall for spectacles, scenic mountain, exercise-ground,
+diversions of all sorts, garden promenades, cafes, restaurants, private
+dining-rooms, everything is combined here that can amuse, charm, lead
+to the wildest orgies, or provide those who never think of sleep till
+toward three or four o’clock of a morning the means to await the dawn
+with patience. The most celebrated companies of the old and the new
+world play there amid an enthusiasm that is steadily maintained by the
+foresight of the managers: Russian and foreign dancers, and above all
+the French chanteuses, the little dolls of the cafes-concerts, so long
+as they are young, bright, and elegantly dressed, may meet their fortune
+there. If there is no such luck, they are sure at least to find every
+evening some old beau, and often some officer, who willingly pays
+twenty-five roubles for the sole pleasure of having a demoiselle born
+on the banks of the Seine for his companion at the supper-table. After
+their turn at the singing, these women display their graces and their
+eager smiles in the promenades of the garden or among the tables where
+the champagne-drinkers sit. The head-liners, naturally, are not driven
+to this wearying perambulation, but can go away to their rest if they
+are so inclined. However, the management is appreciative if they accept
+the invitation of some dignitary of the army, of administration, or of
+finance, who seeks the honor of hearing from the chanteuse, in a private
+room and with a company of friends not disposed to melancholy, the
+Bohemian songs of the Vieux Derevnia. They sing, they loll, they talk
+of Paris, and above all they drink. If sometimes the little fete ends
+rather roughly, it is the friendly and affectionate champagne that is to
+blame, but usually the orgies remain quite innocent, of a character that
+certainly might trouble the temperance societies but need not make M. le
+Senateur Berenger feel involved.
+
+A war whose powder fumes reeked still, a revolution whose last defeated
+growls had not died away at the period of these events, had not at all
+diminished the nightly gayeties of Kretowsky. Many of the young men who
+displayed their uniforms that evening and called their “Nichevo” along
+the brilliantly lighted paths of the public gardens, or filled the
+open-air tables, or drank vodka at the buffets, or admired the figures
+of the wandering soubrettes, had come here on the eve of their departure
+for the war and had returned with the same child-like, enchanted smile,
+the same ideal of futile joy, and kissed their passing comrades as gayly
+as ever. Some of them had a sleeve lying limp now, or walked with a
+crutch, or even on a wooden leg, but it was, all the same, “Nichevo!”
+
+The crowd this evening was denser than ordinarily, because there was the
+chance to hear Annouchka again for the first time since the somber days
+of Moscow. The students were ready to give her an ovation, and no one
+opposed it, because, after all, if she sang now it was because the
+police were willing at last. If the Tsar’s government had granted her
+her life, it was not in order to compel her to die of hunger. Each
+earned a livelihood as was possible. Annouchka only knew how to sing and
+dance, and so she must sing and dance!
+
+When Rouletabille entered the Krestowsky Gardens, Annouchka had
+commenced her number, which ended with a tremendous “Roussalka.”
+ Surrounded by a chorus of male and female dancers in the national
+dress and with red boots, striking tambourines with their fingers, then
+suddenly taking a rigid pose to let the young woman’s voice, which
+was of rather ordinary register, come out, Annouchka had centered the
+attention of the immense audience upon herself. All the other parts
+of the establishment were deserted, the tables had been removed, and a
+panting crowd pressed about the open-air theater. Rouletabille stood up
+on his chair at the moment tumultuous “Bravos” sounded from a group of
+students. Annouchka bowed toward them, seeming to ignore the rest of
+the audience, which had not dared declare itself yet. She sang the old
+peasant songs arranged to present-day taste, and interspersed them with
+dances. They had an enormous success, because she gave her whole soul
+to them and sang with her voice sometimes caressing, sometimes menacing,
+and sometimes magnificently desperate, giving much significance to words
+which on paper had not aroused the suspicions of the censor. The
+taste of the day was obviously still a taste for the revolution, which
+retained its influence on the banks of the Neva. What she was doing was
+certainly very bold, and apparently she realized how audacious she was,
+because, with great adroitness, she would bring out immediately after
+some dangerous phrase a patriotic couplet which everybody was anxious to
+applaud. She succeeded by such means in appealing to all the divergent
+groups of her audience and secured a complete triumph for herself. The
+students, the revolutionaries, the radicals and the cadets acclaimed the
+singer, glorifying not only her art but also and beyond everything else
+the sister of the engineer Volkousky, who had been doomed to perish with
+her brother by the bullets of the Semenovsky regiment. The friends of
+the Court on their side could not forget that it was she who, in front
+of the Kremlin, had struck aside the arm of Constantin Kochkarof,
+ordered by the Central Revolutionary Committee to assassinate the Grand
+Duke Peter Alexandrovitch as he drove up to the governor’s house in
+his sleigh. The bomb burst ten feet away, killing Constantin Kochkarof
+himself. It may be that before death came he had time to hear
+Annouchka cry to him, “Wretch! You were told to kill the prince, not to
+assassinate his children.” As it happened, Peter Alexandrovitch held
+on his knees the two little princesses, seven and eight years old. The
+Court had wished to recompense her for that heroic act. Annouchka had
+spit at the envoy of the Chief of Police who called to speak to her
+of money. At the Hermitage in Moscow, where she sang then, some of
+her admirers had warned her of possible reprisals on the part of the
+revolutionaries. But the revolutionaries gave her assurance at once that
+she had nothing to fear. They approved her act and let her know that
+they now counted on her to kill the Grand Duke some time when he was
+alone; which had made Annouchka laugh. She was an enfant terrible,
+whose friends no one knew, who passed for very wise, and whose lines of
+intrigue were inscrutable. She enjoyed making her hosts in the private
+supper-rooms quake over their meal. One day she had said bluntly to one
+of the most powerful tchinovnicks of Moscow: “You, my old friend, you
+are president of the Black Hundred. Your fate is sealed. Yesterday you
+were condemned to death by the delegates of the Central Committee at
+Presnia. Say your prayers.” The man reached for champagne. He never
+finished his glass. The dvornicks carried him out stricken with
+apoplexy. Since the time she saved the little grand-duchesses the police
+had orders to allow her to act and talk as she pleased. She had been
+mixed up in the deepest plots against the government. Those who lent
+the slightest countenance to such plottings and were not of the police
+simply disappeared. Their friends dared not even ask for news of them.
+The only thing not in doubt about them was that they were at hard labor
+somewhere in the mines of the Ural Mountains. At the moment of
+the revolution Annouchka had a brother who was an engineer on the
+Kasan-Moscow line. This Volkousky was one of the leaders on the Strike
+Committee. The authorities had an eye on him. The revolution started.
+He, with the help of his sister, accomplished one of those formidable
+acts which will carry their memory as heroes to the farthest posterity.
+Their work accomplished, they were taken by Trebassof’s soldiers. Both
+were condemned to death. Volkousky was executed first, and the sister
+was taking her turn when an officer of the government arrived on
+horseback to stop the firing. The Tsar, informed of her intended fate,
+had sent a pardon by telegraph. After that she disappeared. She was
+supposed to have gone on some tour across Europe, as was her habit,
+for she spoke all the languages, like a true Bohemian. Now she had
+reappeared in all her joyous glory at Krestowsky. It was certain,
+however, that she had not forgotten her brother. Gossips said that if
+the government and the police showed themselves so long-enduring they
+found it to their interest to do so. The open, apparent life Annouchka
+led was less troublesome to them than her hidden activities would be.
+The lesser police who surrounded the Chief of the St. Petersburg Secret
+Service, the famous Gounsovski, had meaning smiles when the matter
+was discussed. Among them Annouchka had the ignoble nickname,
+“Stool-pigeon.”
+
+Rouletabille must have been well aware of all these particulars
+concerning Annouchka, for he betrayed no astonishment at the great
+interest and the strong emotion she aroused. From the corner where he
+was he could see only a bit of the stage, and he was standing on tiptoes
+to see the singer when he felt his coat pulled. He turned. It was
+the jolly advocate, well known for his gastronomic feats, Athanase
+Georgevitch, along with the jolly Imperial councilor, Ivan Petrovitch,
+who motioned him to climb down.
+
+“Come with us; we have a box.”
+
+Rouletabille did not need urging, and he was soon installed in the front
+of a box where he could see the stage and the public both. Just then the
+curtain fell on the first part of Annouchka’s performance. The friends
+were soon rejoined by Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the great timber-merchant,
+who came from behind the scenes.
+
+“I have been to see the beautiful Onoto,” announced the Lithuanian with
+a great satisfied laugh. “Tell me the news. All the girls are sulking
+over Annouchka’s success.”
+
+“Who dragged you into the Onoto’s dressing-room then?" demanded Athanase.
+
+“Oh, Gounsovski himself, my dear. He is very amateurish, you know.”
+
+“What! do you knock around with Gounsovski?”
+
+“On my word, I tell you, dear friends, he isn’t a bad acquaintance. He
+did me a little service at Bakou last year. A good acquaintance in these
+times of public trouble.”
+
+“You are in the oil business now, are you?”
+
+“Oh, yes, a little of everything for a livelihood. I have a little well
+down Bakou way, nothing big; and a little house, a very small one for my
+small business.”
+
+“What a monopolist Thaddeus is,” declared Athanase Georgevitch, hitting
+him a formidable slap on the thigh with his enormous hand. “Gounsovski
+has come himself to keep an eye on Annouchka’s debut, eh? Only he goes
+into Onoto’s dressing-room, the rogue.”
+
+“Oh, he doesn’t trouble himself. Do you know who he is to have supper
+with? With Annouchka, my dears, and we are invited.”
+
+“How’s that?” inquired the jovial councilor.
+
+“It seems Gounsovski influenced the minister to permit Annouchka’s
+performance by declaring he would be responsible for it all. He required
+from Annouchka solely that she have supper with him on the evening of
+her debut.”
+
+“And Annouchka consented?”
+
+“That was the condition, it seems. For that matter, they say that
+Annouchka and Gounsovski don’t get along so badly together. Gounsovski
+has done Annouchka many a good turn. They say he is in love with her.”
+
+“He has the air of an umbrella merchant,” snorted Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+“Have you seen him at close range?” inquired Ivan.
+
+“I have dined at his house, though it is nothing to boast of, on my
+word.”
+
+“That is what he said,” replied Thaddeus. “When he knew we were here
+together, he said to me: ‘Bring him, he is a charming fellow who plies
+a great fork; and bring that dear man Ivan Petrovitch, and all your
+friends.’”
+
+“Oh, I only dined at his house,” grumbled Athanase, “because there was a
+favor he was going to do me.”
+
+“He does services for everybody, that man,” observed Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+“Of course, of course; he ought to,” retorted Athanase. “What is a chief
+of Secret Service for if not to do things for everybody? For everybody,
+my dear friends, and a little for himself besides. A chief of Secret
+Service has to be in with everybody, with everybody and his father,
+as La Fontaine says (if you know that author), if he wants to hold his
+place. You know what I mean.”
+
+Athanase laughed loudly, glad of the chance to show how French he could
+be in his allusions, and looked at Rouletabille to see if he had been
+able to catch the tone of the conversation; but Rouletabille was too
+much occupied in watching a profile wrapped in a mantilla of black lace,
+in the Spanish fashion, to repay Athanase’s performance with a knowing
+smile.
+
+“You certainly have naive notions. You think a chief of Secret Police
+should be an ogre,” replied the advocate as he nodded here and there to
+his friends.
+
+“Why, certainly not. He needs to be a sheep in a place like that, a
+thorough sheep. Gounsovski is soft as a sheep. The time I dined with him
+he had mutton streaked with fat. He is just like that. I am sure he is
+mainly layers of fat. When you shake hands you feel as though you
+had grabbed a piece of fat. My word! And when he eats he wags his jaw
+fattishly. His head is like that, too; bald, you know, with a cranium
+like fresh lard. He speaks softly and looks at you like a kid looking to
+its mother for a juicy meal.”
+
+“But--why--it is Natacha!” murmured the lips of the young man.
+
+“Certainly it is Natacha, Natacha herself,” exclaimed Ivan Petrovitch,
+who had used his glasses the better to see whom the young French
+journalist was looking at. “Ah, the dear child! she has wanted to see
+Annouchka for a long time.”
+
+“What, Natacha! So it is. So it is. Natacha! Natacha!” said the others.
+“And with Boris Mourazoff’s parents.”
+
+“But Boris is not there,” sniggered Thaddeus Tehitchnikoff.
+
+“Oh, he can’t be far away. If he was there we would see Michael
+Korsakoff too. They keep close on each other’s heels.”
+
+“How has she happened to leave the general? She said she couldn’t bear
+to be away from him.”
+
+“Except to see Annouchka,” replied Ivan. “She wanted to see her, and
+talked so about it when I was there that even Feodor Feodorovitch was
+rather scandalized at her and Matrena Petrovna reproved her downright
+rudely. But what a girl wishes the gods bring about. That’s the way.”
+
+“That’s so, I know,” put in Athanase. “Ivan Petrovitch is right. Natacha
+hasn’t been able to hold herself in since she read that Annouchka was
+going to make her debut at Krestowsky. She said she wasn’t going to die
+without having seen the great artist.”
+
+“Her father had almost drawn her away from that crowd,” affirmed Ivan,
+“and that was as it should be. She must have fixed up this affair with
+Boris and his parents.”
+
+“Yes, Feodor certainly isn’t aware that his daughter’s idea was to
+applaud the heroine of Kasan station. She is certainly made of stern
+stuff, my word,” said Athanase.
+
+“Natacha, you must remember, is a student,” said Thaddeus, shaking his
+head; “a true student. They have misfortunes like that now in so many
+families. I recall, apropos of what Ivan said just now, how today she
+asked Michael Korsakoff, before me, to let her know where Annouchka
+would sing. More yet, she said she wished to speak to that artist if it
+were possible. Michael frowned on that idea, even before me. But Michael
+couldn’t refuse her, any more than the others. He can reach Annouchka
+easier than anyone else. You remember it was he who rode hard and
+arrived in time with the pardon for that beautiful witch; she ought not
+to forget him if she cared for her life.”
+
+“Anyone who knows Michael Nikolaievitch knows that he did his duty
+promptly,” announced Athanase Georgevitch crisply. “But he would not
+have gone a step further to save Annouchka. Even now he won’t compromise
+his career by being seen at the home of a woman who is never from
+under the eyes of Gounsovski’s agents and who hasn’t been nicknamed
+‘Stool-pigeon’ for nothing.”
+
+“Then why do we go to supper tonight with Annouchka?” asked Ivan.
+
+“That’s not the same thing. We are invited by Gounsovski himself. Don’t
+forget that, if stories concerning it drift about some day, my friends,”
+ said Thaddeus.
+
+“For that matter, Thaddeus, I accept the invitation of the honorable
+chief of our admirable Secret Service because I don’t wish to slight
+him. I have dined at his house already. By sitting opposite him at a
+public table here I feel that I return that politeness. What do you say
+to that?”
+
+“Since you have dined with him, tell us what kind of a man he is aside
+from his fattish qualities,” said the curious councilor. “So many things
+are said about him. He certainly seems to be a man it is better to stand
+in with than to fall out with, so I accept his invitation. How could you
+manage to refuse it, anyway?”
+
+“When he first offered me hospitality,” explained the advocate, “I
+didn’t even know him. I never had been near him. One day a police agent
+came and invited me to dinner by command--or, at least, I understood it
+wasn’t wise to refuse the invitation, as you said, Ivan Petrovitch. When
+I went to his house I thought I was entering a fortress, and inside I
+thought it must be an umbrella shop. There were umbrellas everywhere,
+and goloshes. True, it was a day of pouring rain. I was struck by there
+being no guard with a big revolver in the antechamber. He had a little,
+timid schwitzar there, who took my umbrella, murmuring ‘barine’ and
+bowing over and over again. He conducted me through very ordinary rooms
+quite unguarded to an average sitting-room of a common kind. We dined
+with Madame Gounsovski, who appeared fattish like her husband, and three
+or four men whom I had never seen anywhere. One servant waited on us. My
+word!
+
+“At dessert Gounsovski took me aside and told me I was unwise to ‘argue
+that way.’ I asked him what he meant by that. He took my hands between
+his fat hands and repeated, ‘No, no, it is not wise to argue like that.’
+I couldn’t draw anything else out of him. For that matter, I understood
+him, and, you know, since that day I have cut out certain side passages
+unnecessary in my general law pleadings that had been giving me a
+reputation for rather too free opinions in the papers. None of that
+at my age! Ah, the great Gounsovski! Over our coffee I asked him if he
+didn’t find the country in pretty strenuous times. He replied that he
+looked forward with impatience to the month of May, when he could go for
+a rest to a little property with a small garden that he had bought at
+Asnieres, near Paris. When he spoke of their house in the country Madame
+Gounsovski heaved a sigh of longing for those simple country joys. The
+month of May brought tears to her eyes. Husband and wife looked at one
+another with real tenderness. They had not the air of thinking for one
+second: to-morrow or the day after, before our country happiness comes,
+we may find ourselves stripped of everything. No! They were sure of
+their happy vacation and nothing seemed able to disquiet them under
+their fat. Gounsovski has done everybody so many services that no one
+really wishes him ill, poor man. Besides, have you noticed, my dear old
+friends, that no one ever tries to work harm to chiefs of Secret
+Police? One goes after heads of police, prefects of police, ministers,
+grand-dukes, and even higher, but the chiefs of Secret Police are never,
+never attacked. They can promenade tranquilly in the streets or in the
+gardens of Krestowsky or breathe the pure air of the Finland country or
+even the country around Paris. They have done so many little favors for
+this one and that, here and there, that no one wishes to do them the
+least injury. Each person always thinks, too, that others have been less
+well served than he. That is the secret of the thing, my friends, that
+is the secret. What do you say?”
+
+The others said: “Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski. He knows. He knows.
+Certainly, accept his supper. With Annouchka it will be fun.”
+
+“Messieurs,” asked Rouletabille, who continued to make discoveries in
+the audience, “do you know that officer who is seated at the end of a
+row down there in the orchestra seats? See, he is getting up.”
+
+“He? Why, that is Prince Galitch, who was one of the richest lords of
+the North Country. Now he is practically ruined.”
+
+“Thanks, gentlemen; certainly it is he. I know him,” said Rouletabille,
+seating himself and mastering his emotion.
+
+“They say he is a great admirer of Annouchka,” hazarded Thaddeus. Then
+he walked away from the box.
+
+“The prince has been ruined by women,” said Athanase Georgevitch, who
+pretended to know the entire chronicle of gallantries in the empire.
+
+“He also has been on good terms with Gounsovski,” continued Thaddeus.
+
+“He passes at court, though, for an unreliable. He once made a long
+visit to Tolstoi.”
+
+“Bah! Gounsovski must have rendered some signal service to that
+imprudent prince,” concluded Athanase. “But for yourself, Thaddeus, you
+haven’t said what you did with Gounsovski at Bakou.”
+
+(Rouletabille did not lose a word of what was being said around him,
+although he never lost sight of the profile hidden in the black mantle
+nor of Prince Galitch, his personal enemy,* who reappeared, it seemed
+to him, at a very critical moment.)
+
+     * as told in “The Lady In Black.”
+
+“I was returning from Balakani in a drojki,” said Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, “and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen the
+debris of my oil shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when I met
+Gounsovski in the road, who, with two of his friends, found themselves
+badly off with one of the wheels of their carriage broken. I stopped.
+He explained to me that he had a Tartar coachman, and that this coachman
+having seen an Armenian on the road before him, could find nothing
+better to do than run full tilt into the Armenian’s equipage. He had
+reached over and taken the reins from him, but a wheel of the carriage
+was broken.” (Rouletabille quivered, because he caught a glance of
+communication between Prince Galitch and Natacha, who was leaning over
+the edge of her box.) “So I offered to take Gounsovski and his friends
+into my carriage, and we rode all together to Bakou after Gounsovski,
+who always wishes to do a service, as Athanase Georgevitch says, had
+warned his Tartar coachman not to finish the Armenian.” (Prince Galitch,
+at the moment the orchestra commenced the introductory music for
+Annouchka’s new number, took advantage of all eyes being turned toward
+the rising curtain to pass near Natacha’s seat. This time he did not
+look at Natacha, but Rouletabille was sure that his lips had moved as he
+went by her.)
+
+Thaddeus continued: “It is necessary to explain that at Bakou my little
+house is one of the first before you reach the quay. I had some Armenian
+employees there. When arrived, what do you suppose I saw? A file of
+soldiers with cannon, yes, with a cannon, on my word, turned against my
+house and an officer saying quietly, ‘there it is. Fire!’” (Rouletabille
+made yet another discovery--two, three discoveries. Near by, standing
+back of Natacha’s seat, was a figure not unknown to the young reporter,
+and there, in one of the orchestra chairs, were two other men whose
+faces he had seen that same morning in Koupriane’s barracks. Here was
+where a memory for faces stood him in good stead. He saw that he was not
+the only person keeping close watch on Natacha.) “When I heard what the
+officer said,” Thaddeus went on, “I nearly dropped out of the drojki.
+I hurried to the police commissioner. He explained the affair promptly,
+and I was quick to understand. During my absence one of my Armenian
+employees had fired at a Tartar who was passing. For that matter, he had
+killed him. The governor was informed and had ordered the house to be
+bombarded, for an example, as had been done with several others. I found
+Gounsovski and told him the trouble in two words. He said it wasn’t
+necessary for him to interfere in the affair, that I had only to talk
+to the officer. ‘Give him a good present, a hundred roubles, and he will
+leave your house. I went back to the officer and took him aside; he said
+he wanted to do anything that he could for me, but that the order was
+positive to bombard the house. I reported his answer to Gounsovski, who
+told me: ‘Tell him then to turn the muzzle of the cannon the other way
+and bombard the building of the chemist across the way, then he can
+always say that he mistook which house was intended.’ I did that, and he
+had them turn the cannon. They bombarded the chemist’s place, and I got
+out of the whole thing for the hundred roubles. Gounsovski, the good
+fellow, may be a great lump of fat and be like an umbrella merchant, but
+I have always been grateful to him from the bottom of my heart, you can
+understand, Athanase Georgevitch.”
+
+“What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?” inquired Rouletabille
+all at once.
+
+“Oh, oh!” laughed the others. “Since he went so openly to visit Tolstoi
+he doesn’t go to the court any more.”
+
+“And--his opinions? What are his opinions?”
+
+“Oh, the opinions of everybody are so mixed nowadays, nobody knows.”
+
+Ivan Petrovitch said, “He passes among some people as very advanced and
+very much compromised.”
+
+“Yet they don’t bother him?” inquired Rouletabille.
+
+“Pooh, pooh,” replied the gay Councilor of Empire, “it is rather he who
+tries to mix with them.”
+
+Thaddeus stooped down and said, “They say that he can’t be reached
+because of the hold he has over a certain great personage in the court,
+and it would be a scandal--a great scandal.”
+
+“Be quiet, Thaddeus,” interrupted Athanase Georgevitch, roughly. “It
+is easy to see that you are lately from the provinces to speak so
+recklessly, but if you go on this way I shall leave.”
+
+“Athanase Georgevitch is right; hang onto your mouth, Thaddeus,”
+ counseled Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+The talkers all grew silent, for the curtain was rising. In the audience
+there were mysterious allusions being made to this second number of
+Annouchka, but no one seemed able to say what it was to be, and it was,
+as a matter of fact, very simple. After the whirl-wind of dances and
+choruses and all the splendor with which she had been accompanied the
+first time, Annouchka appeared as a poor Russian peasant in a scene
+representing the barren steppes, and very simply she sank to her knees
+and recited her evening prayers. Annouchka was singularly beautiful.
+Her aquiline nose with sensitive nostrils, the clean-cut outline of
+her eyebrows, her look that now was almost tender, now menacing, always
+unusual, her pale rounded cheeks and the entire expression of her face
+showed clearly the strength of new ideas, spontaneity, deep resolution
+and, above all, passion. The prayer was passionate. She had an admirable
+contralto voice which affected the audience strangely from its very
+first notes. She asked God for daily bread for everyone in the immense
+Russian land, daily bread for the flesh and for the spirit, and she
+stirred the tears of everyone there, to which-ever party they belonged.
+And when, as her last note sped across the desolate steppe and she rose
+and walked toward the miserable hut, frantic bravos from a delirious
+audience told her the prodigious emotions she had aroused. Little
+Rouletabille, who, not understanding the words, nevertheless caught the
+spirit of that prayer, wept. Everybody wept. Ivan Petrovitch, Athanase
+Georgevitch, Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff were standing up, stamping their
+feet and clapping their hands like enthusiastic boys. The students, who
+could be easily distinguished by the uniform green edging they wore on
+their coats, uttered insensate cries. And suddenly there rose the first
+strains of the national hymn. There was hesitation at first, a wavering.
+But not for long. Those who had been dreading some counter-demonstration
+realized that no objection could possibly be raised to a prayer for
+the Tsar. All heads uncovered and the Bodje Taara Krari mounted,
+unanimously, toward the stars.
+
+Through his tears the young reporter never gave up his close watch on
+Natacha. She had half risen, and, sinking back, leaned on the edge of
+the box. She called, time and time again, a name that Rouletabille
+could not hear in the uproar, but that he felt sure was “Annouchka!
+Annouchka!” “The reckless girl,” murmured Rouletabille, and, profiting
+by the general excitement, he left the box without being noticed.
+He made his way through the crowd toward Natacha, whom he had sought
+futilely since morning. The audience, after clamoring in vain for a
+repetition of the prayer by Annouchka, commenced to disperse, and the
+reporter was swept along with them for a few moments. When he reached
+the range of boxes he saw that Natacha and the family she had been
+with were gone. He looked on all sides without seeing the object of his
+search and like a madman commenced to run through the passages, when a
+sudden idea struck his blood cold. He inquired where the exit for the
+artists was and as soon as it was pointed out, he hurried there. He
+was not mistaken. In the front line of the crowd that waited to see
+Annouchka come out he recognized Natacha, with her head enveloped in the
+black mantle so that none should see her face. Besides, this corner of
+the garden was in a half-gloom. The police barred the way; he could not
+approach as near Natacha as he wished. He set himself to slip like a
+serpent through the crowd. He was not separated from Natacha by more
+than four or five persons when a great jostling commenced. Annouchka
+was coming out. Cries rose: “Annouchka! Annouchka!” Rouletabille threw
+himself on his knees and on all-fours succeeded in sticking his head
+through into the way kept by the police for Annouchka’s passage.
+There, wrapped in a great red mantle, his hat on his arm, was a man
+Rouletabille immediately recognized. It was Prince Galitch. They were
+hurrying to escape the impending pressure of the crowd. But Annouchka as
+she passed near Natacha stopped just a second--a movement that did not
+escape Rouletabille--and, turning toward her said just the one word,
+“Caracho.” Then she passed on. Rouletabille got up and forced his way
+back, having once more lost Natacha. He searched for her. He ran to the
+carriage-way and arrived just in time to see her seated in a carriage
+with the Mourazoff family. The carriage started at once in the direction
+of the datcha des Iles. The young man remained standing there, thinking.
+He made a gesture as though he were ready now to let luck take its
+course. “In the end,” said he, “it will be better so, perhaps,” and
+then, to himself, “Now to supper, my boy.”
+
+He turned in his tracks and soon was established in the glaring light
+of the restaurant. Officers standing, glass in hand, were saluting from
+table to table and waving a thousand compliments with grace that was
+almost feminine.
+
+He heard his name called joyously, and recognized the voice of Ivan
+Petrovitch. The three boon companions were seated over a bottle of
+champagne resting in its ice-bath and were being served with tiny pates
+while they waited for the supper-hour, which was now near.
+
+Rouletabille yielded to their invitation readily enough, and accompanied
+them when the head-waiter informed Thaddeus that the gentlemen were
+desired in a private room. They went to the first floor and were
+ushered into a large apartment whose balcony opened on the hall of
+the winter-theater, empty now. But the apartment was already occupied.
+Before a table covered with a shining service Gounsovski did the honors.
+
+He received them like a servant, with his head down, an obsequious
+smile, and his back bent, bowing several times as each of the guests
+were presented to him. Athanase had described him accurately enough, a
+mannikin in fat. Under the vast bent brow one could hardly see his eyes,
+behind the blue glasses that seemed always ready to fall as he inclined
+too far his fat head with its timid and yet all-powerful glance. When he
+spoke in his falsetto voice, his chin dropped in a fold over his collar,
+and he had a steady gesture with the thumb and index finger of his right
+hand to retain the glasses from sliding down his short, thick nose.
+
+Behind him there was the fine, haughty silhouette of Prince Galitch. He
+had been invited by Annouchka, for she had consented to risk this supper
+only in company with three or four of her friends, officers who could
+not be further compromised by this affair, as they were already
+under the eye of the Okrana (Secret Police) despite their high birth.
+Gounsovski had seen them come with a sinister chuckle and had lavished
+upon them his marks of devotion.
+
+He loved Annouchka. It would have sufficed to have surprised just once
+the jealous glance he sent from beneath his great blue glasses when he
+gazed at the singer to have understood the sentiments that actuated him
+in the presence of the beautiful daughter of the Black Land.
+
+Annouchka was seated, or, rather, she lounged, Oriental fashion, on the
+sofa which ran along the wall behind the table. She paid attention to
+no one. Her attitude was forbidding, even hostile. She indifferently
+allowed her marvelous black hair that fell in two tresses over her
+shoulder to be caressed by the perfumed hands of the beautiful Onoto,
+who had heard her this evening for the first time and had thrown herself
+with enthusiasm into her arms after the last number. Onoto was an artist
+too, and the pique she felt at first over Annouchka’s success could not
+last after the emotion aroused by the evening prayer before the hut.
+“Come to supper,” Annouchka had said to her.
+
+“With whom?” inquired the Spanish artist.
+
+“With Gounsovski.”
+
+“Never.”
+
+“Do come. You will help me pay my debt and perhaps he will be useful to
+you as well. He is useful to everybody.”
+
+Decidedly Onoto did not understand this country, where the worst enemies
+supped together.
+
+Rouletabille had been monopolized at once by Prince Galitch, who took
+him into a corner and said:
+
+“What are you doing here?”
+
+“Do I inconvenience you?” asked the boy.
+
+The other assumed the amused smile of the great lord.
+
+“While there is still time,” he said, “believe me, you ought to start,
+to quit this country. Haven’t you had sufficient notice?”
+
+“Yes,” replied the reporter. “And you can dispense with any further
+notice from this time on.”
+
+He turned his back.
+
+“Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa,” commenced
+the falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the young
+man and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch, who was
+already busy with the hors-d’oeuvres.
+
+“How do you do, monsieur?” said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.
+
+Rouletabille saluted.
+
+“I see that I am in a country of acquaintances,” he said, without
+appearing disturbed.
+
+He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.
+
+“Rouletabille!” cried la belle Onoto. “Why, then, he is the little
+fellow who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room.”
+
+“Himself.”
+
+“What are you doing here?”
+
+“He came to save the life of General Trebassof,” sniggered Gounsovski.
+“He is certainly a brave little young man.”
+
+“The police know everything,” said Rouletabille coldly. And he asked for
+champagne, which he never drank.
+
+The champagne commenced its work. While Thaddeus and the officers
+told each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women,
+Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille
+and gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.
+
+“You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more
+difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his enemies
+but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane. Understand me thoroughly:
+Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly. He is good,
+brave as a warrior, but I wouldn’t give a kopeck for his police. He has
+mixed in our affairs lately by creating his own secret police, but
+I don’t wish to meddle with that. It amuses us. It’s the new style,
+anyway; everybody wants his secret police nowadays. And yourself, young
+man, what, after all, are you doing here? Reporting? No. Police work?
+That is our business and your business. I wish you good luck, but I
+don’t expect it. Remember that if you need any help I will give it you
+willingly. I love to be of service. And I don’t wish any harm to befall
+you.”
+
+“You are very kind, monsieur,” was all Rouletabille replied, and he
+called again for champagne.
+
+Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concerned
+herself with her meal and had little answer for him.
+
+“Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?”
+
+“No,” said Annouchka indifferently.
+
+“The daughter of General Trebassof.”
+
+“Yes, that is true, on my word,” cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+“Yes, yes, Natacha was there,” joined in the other friends from the
+datcha des Iles.
+
+“For me, I saw her weep,” said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka
+fixedly.
+
+But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:
+
+“I do not know her.”
+
+“She is unlucky in having a father...” Prince Galitch commenced.
+
+“Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave,” clucked Gounsovski.
+“Your health, dear Annouchka.”
+
+“Your health, Gounsovski. But you have no worry about that.”
+
+“Why?” demanded Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff in equivocal fashion.
+
+“Because he is too useful to the government,” cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+“No,” replied Annouchka; “to the revolutionaries.”
+
+All broke out laughing. Gounsovski recovered his slipping glasses by
+his usual quick movement and sniggered softly, insinuatingly, like fat
+boiling in the pot:
+
+“So they say. And it is my strength.”
+
+“His system is excellent,” said the prince. “As he is in with everybody,
+everybody is in with the police, without knowing it.”
+
+“They say... ah, ah... they say...” (Athanase was choking over a little
+piece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) “they say that he has
+driven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the church of
+Kasan.”
+
+Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans,
+street-thieves who since the recent political troubles had infested St.
+Petersburg and whom nobody, could get rid of without paying for it.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch said:
+
+“There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never have.
+One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station. The girl,
+frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with two roubles and
+fifty kopecks in it. The hooligan took it all. ‘Goodness,’ cried she,
+‘I have nothing now to take my train with.’ ‘How much is it?’ asked the
+hooligan. ‘Sixty kopecks.’ ‘Sixty kopecks! Why didn’t you say so?’ And
+the bandit, hanging onto the two roubles, returned the fifty-kopeck
+piece to the trembling child and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his own
+pocket.”
+
+“Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow,”
+ said la belle Onoto. “I had just stepped out of the door when I was
+stopped by a hooligan. ‘Give me twenty kopecks,’ said the hooligan. I
+was so frightened that I couldn’t get my purse open. ‘Quicker,’ said he.
+Finally I gave him twenty kopecks. ‘Now,’ said he then, ‘kiss my hand.’
+And I had to kiss it, because he held his knife in the other.”
+
+“Oh, they are quick with their knives,” said Thaddeus. “As I was
+leaving Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a huge
+carving-knife under my nose. ‘You can have it for a rouble and a half,’
+he said. You can believe that I bought it without any haggling. And
+it was a very good bargain. It was worth at least three roubles. Your
+health, belle Onoto.”
+
+“I always take my revolver when I go out,” said Athanase. “It is more
+prudent. I say this before the police. But I would rather be arrested by
+the police than stabbed by the hooligans.”
+
+“There’s no place any more to buy revolvers,” declared Ivan Petrovitch.
+“All such places are closed.”
+
+Gounsovski settled his glasses, rubbed his fat hands and said:
+
+“There are some still at my locksmith’s place. The proof is that to-day
+in the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith, went into the
+house of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell him a revolver. It
+was a Browning. ‘An arm of the greatest reliability,’ he said to him,
+‘which never misses fire and which works very easily.’ Having pronounced
+these words, the locksmith tried his revolver and lodged a ball in the
+grocer’s lung. The grocer is dead, but before he died he bought the
+revolver. ‘You are right,’ he said to the locksmith; ‘it is a terrible
+weapon.’ And then he died.”
+
+The others laughed heartily. They thought it very funny. Decidedly this
+great Gounsovski always had a funny story. Who would not like to be
+his friend? Annouchka had deigned to smile. Gounsovski, in recognition,
+extended his hand to her like a mendicant. The young woman touched it
+with the end of her fingers, as if she were placing a twenty-kopeck
+piece in the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from it with disgust. Then
+the doors opened for the Bohemians. Their swarthy troupe soon filled the
+room. Every evening men and women in their native costumes came from old
+Derevnia, where they lived all together in a sort of ancient patriarchal
+community, with customs that had not changed for centuries; they
+scattered about in the places of pleasure, in the fashionable
+restaurants, where they gathered large sums, for it was a fashionable
+luxury to have them sing at the end of suppers, and everyone showered
+money on them in order not to be behind the others. They accompanied on
+guzlas, on castanets, on tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful and
+languorous, or excitable and breathless as the flight of the earliest
+nomads in the beginnings of the world.
+
+When they had entered, those present made place for them, and
+Rouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue and
+of a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn’t in the habit
+of drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion to get a
+corner of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who occupied the place
+at Annouchka’s right.
+
+“Look, Rouletabaille is asleep,” remarked la belle Onoto.
+
+“Poor boy!” said Annouchka.
+
+And, turning toward Gounsovski:
+
+“Aren’t you soon going to get him out of our way? I heard some of our
+brethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain to those
+who care about his health.”
+
+“Oh, that,” said Gounsovski, shaking his head, “is an affair I have
+nothing to do with. Apply to Koupriane. Your health, belle Annouchka.”
+
+But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and the
+singers took everybody’s attention, everybody excepting Prince Galitch
+and Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another, exchanged some
+words on the edge of all this musical uproar. As for Rouletabille, he
+certainly must have been sleeping soundly not to have been waked by
+all that noise, melodious as it was. It is true that he
+had--apparently--drunk a good deal and, as everyone knows, in Russia
+drink lays out those who can’t stand it. When the Bohemians had sung
+three times Gounsovski made a sign that they might go to charm other
+ears, and slipped into the hands of the chief of the band a twenty-five
+rouble note. But Onoto wished to give her mite, and a regular collection
+commenced. Each one threw roubles into the plate held out by a little
+swarthy Bohemian girl with crow-black hair, carelessly combed, falling
+over her forehead, her eyes and her face, in so droll a fashion that one
+would have said the little thing was a weeping-willow soaked in ink. The
+plate reached Prince Galitch, who futilely searched his pockets.
+
+“Bah!” said he, with a lordly air, “I have no money. But here is my
+pocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me, Katharina.”
+
+Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince, but
+Annouchka said:
+
+“The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficiently
+repay the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty hut
+when I was in hiding, while your famous department was deciding what to
+do about me, my dear Gounsovski.”
+
+“Eh,” replied Gounsovski, “I let you know that all you had to do was to
+take a fine apartment in the city.”
+
+Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from yellow
+turned green.
+
+“But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?” asked Onoto as she
+caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.
+
+“You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned. I had been
+able to leave Moscow, and I hadn’t any desire to be re-taken here and
+sent to taste the joys of Siberia.”
+
+“But why were you condemned to death?”
+
+“Why, she doesn’t know anything!” exclaimed the others.
+
+“Good Lord, I’m just back from London and Paris--how should I know
+anything! But to have been condemned to death! That must have been
+amusing.”
+
+“Very amusing,” said Annouchka icily. “And if you have a brother whom
+you love, Onoto, think how much more amusing it must be to have him shot
+before you.”
+
+“Oh, my love, forgive me!”
+
+“So you may know and not give any pain to your Annouchka in the future,
+I will tell you, madame, what happened to our dear friend,” said Prince
+Galitch.
+
+“We would do better to drive away such terrible memories,” ventured
+Gounsovski, lifting his eyelashes behind his glasses, but he bent his
+head as Annouchka sent him a blazing glance.
+
+“Speak, Galitch.”
+
+The Prince did as she said.
+
+“Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line, whom
+the Strike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the only means
+of escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops when Trebassof’s
+soldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had become masters of the
+city. The last resistance took place at the station. It was necessary
+to get started. All the ways were guarded by the military. There were
+soldiers everywhere! Vlassof said to his comrades, ‘I will save you;’
+and his comrades saw him mount the engine with a woman. That woman
+was--well, there she sits. Vlassof’s fireman had been killed the evening
+before, on a barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place. They busied
+themselves and the train started like a shot. On that curved line,
+discovered at once, easy to attack, under a shower of bullets, Vlassof
+developed a speed of ninety versts an hour. He ran the indicator up to
+the explosion point. The lady over there continued to pile coal into the
+furnace. The danger came to be less from the military and more from
+an explosion at any moment. In the midst of the balls Vlassof kept his
+usual coolness. He sped not only with the firebox open but with the
+forced draught. It was a miracle that the engine was not smashed against
+the curve of the embankment. But they got past. Not a man was hurt. Only
+a woman was wounded. She got a ball in the chest.”
+
+“There!” cried Annouchka.
+
+With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving chest,
+and put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began to melt in
+heavy drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.
+
+“Fifteen days later,” continued the prince, “Vlassof entered an inn
+at Lubetszy. He didn’t know it was full of soldiers. His face never
+altered. They searched him. They found a revolver and papers on him.
+They knew whom they had to do with. He was a good prize. Vlassof was
+taken to Moscow and condemned to be shot. His sister, wounded as she
+was, learned of his arrest and joined him. ‘I do not wish,’ she said
+to him, ‘to leave you to die alone.’ She also was condemned. Before the
+execution the soldiers offered to bandage their eyes, but both refused,
+saying they preferred to meet death face to face. The orders were to
+shoot all the other condemned revolutionaries first, then Vlassof,
+then his sister. It was in vain that Vlassof asked to die last. Their
+comrades in execution sank to their knees, bleeding from their death
+wounds. Vlassof embraced his sister and walked to the place of death.
+There he addressed the soldiers: ‘Now you have to carry out your duty
+according to the oath you have taken. Fulfill it honestly as I have
+fulfilled mine. Captain, give the order.’ The volley sounded. Vlassof
+remained erect, his arms crossed on his breast, safe and sound. Not a
+ball had touched him. The soldiers did not wish to fire at him. He had
+to summon them again to fulfill their duty, and obey their chief. Then
+they fired again, and he fell. He looked at his sister with his eyes
+full of horrible suffering. Seeing that he lived, and wishing to appear
+charitable, the captain, upon Annouchka’s prayers, approached and cut
+short his sufferings by firing a revolver into his ear. Now it was
+Annouchka’s turn. She knelt by the body of her brother, kissed his
+bloody lips, rose and said, ‘I am ready.’ As the guns were raised, an
+officer came running, bearing the pardon of the Tsar. She did not
+wish it, and she whom they had not bound when she was to die had to be
+restrained when she learned she was to live.”
+
+Prince Galitch, amid the anguished silence of all there, started to
+add some words of comment to his sinister recital, but Annouchka
+interrupted:
+
+“The story is ended,” said she. “Not a word, Prince. If I asked you
+to tell it in all its horror, if I wished you to bring back to us the
+atrocious moment of my brother’s death, it is so that monsieur” (her
+fingers pointed to Gounsovski) “shall know well, once for all, that if
+I have submitted for some hours now to this promiscuous company that has
+been imposed upon me, now that I have paid the debt by accepting this
+abominable supper, I have nothing more to do with this purveyor of
+bagnios and of hangman’s ropes who is here.”
+
+“She is mad,” he muttered. “She is mad. What has come over her? What has
+happened? Only to-day she was so, so amiable.”
+
+And he stuttered, desolately, with an embarrassed laugh:
+
+“Ah, the women, the women! Now what have I done to her?”
+
+“What have you done to me, wretch? Where are Belachof, Bartowsky and
+Strassof? And Pierre Slutch? All the comrades who swore with me to
+revenge my brother? Where are they? On what gallows did you have them
+hung? What mine have you buried them in? And still you follow your
+slavish task. And my friends, my other friends, the poor comrades of my
+artist life, the inoffensive young men who have not committed any
+other crime than to come to see me too often when I was lively, and who
+believed they could talk freely in my dressing-room--where are they?
+Why have they left me, one by one? Why have they disappeared? It is you,
+wretch, who watched them, who spied on them, making me, I haven’t any
+doubt, your horrible accomplice, mixing me up in your beastly work, you
+dog! You knew what they call me. You have known it for a long time, and
+you may well laugh over it. But I, I never knew until this evening; I
+never learned until this evening all I owe to you. ‘Stool pigeon! Stool
+pigeon!’ I! Horror! Ah, you dog, you dog! Your mother, when you were
+brought into the world, your mother...” Here she hurled at him the most
+offensive insult that a Russian can offer a man of that race.
+
+She trembled and sobbed with rage, spat in fury, and stood up ready to
+go, wrapped in her mantle like a great red flag. She was the statue of
+hate and vengeance. She was horrible and terrible. She was beautiful.
+At the final supreme insult, Gounsovski started and rose to his feet as
+though he had received an actual blow in the face. He did not look at
+Annouchka, but fixed his eyes on Prince Galitch. His finger pointed him
+out:
+
+“There is the man,” he hissed, “who has told you all these fine things.”
+
+“Yes, it is I,” said the Prince, tranquilly.
+
+“Caracho!” barked Gounsovski, instantaneously regaining his coolness.
+
+“Ah, yes, but you’ll not touch him,” clamored the spirited girl of the
+Black Land; “you are not strong enough for that.”
+
+“I know that monsieur has many friends at court,” agreed the chief of
+the Secret Service with an ominous calm. “I don’t wish ill to monsieur.
+You speak, madame, of the way some of your friends have had to be
+sacrificed. I hope that some day you will be better informed, and that
+you will understand I saved all of them I could.”
+
+“Let us go,” muttered Annouchka. “I shall spit in his face.”
+
+“Yes, all I could,” replied the other, with his habitual gesture of
+hanging on to his glasses. “And I shall continue to do so. I promise you
+not to say anything more disagreeable to the prince than as regards his
+little friend the Bohemian Katharina, whom he has treated so generously
+just now, doubtless because Boris Mourazoff pays her too little for the
+errands she runs each morning to the villa of Krestowsky Ostrow.”
+
+At these words the Prince and Annouchka both changed countenance. Their
+anger rose. Annouchka turned her head as though to arrange the folds
+of her cloak. Galitch contented himself with shrugging his shoulders
+impatiently and murmuring:
+
+“Still some other abomination that you are concocting, monsieur, and
+that we don’t know how to reply to.”
+
+After which he bowed to the supper-party, took Annouchka’s arm and had
+her move before him. Gounsovski bowed, almost bent in two. When he rose
+he saw before him the three astounded and horrified figures of Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+“Messieurs,” he said to them, in a colorless voice which seemed not to
+belong to him, “the time has come for us to part. I need not say that we
+have supped as friends and that, if you wish it to be so, we can forget
+everything that has been said here.”
+
+The three others, frightened, at once protested their discretion.
+He added, roughly this time, “Service of the Tsar,” and the three
+stammered, “God save the Tsar!” After which he saw them to the door.
+When the door had closed after them, he said, “My little Annouchka,
+you mustn’t reckon without me.” He hurried toward the sofa, where
+Rouletabille was lying forgotten, and gave him a tap on the shoulder.
+
+“Come, get up. Don’t act as though you were asleep. Not an instant
+to lose. They are going to carry through the Trebassof affair this
+evening.”
+
+Rouletabille was already on his legs.
+
+“Oh, monsieur,” said he, “I didn’t want you to tell me that. Thanks all
+the same, and good evening.”
+
+He went out.
+
+Gounsovski rang. A servant appeared.
+
+“Tell them they may now open all the rooms on this corridor; I’ll not
+hold them any longer.” Thus had Gounsovski kept himself protected.
+
+Left alone, the head of the Secret Service wiped his brow and drank a
+great glass of iced water which he emptied at a draught. Then he said:
+
+“Koupriane will have his work cut out for him this evening; I wish him
+good luck. As to them, whatever happens, I wash my hands of them.”
+
+And he rubbed his hands.
+
+
+
+
+
+X. A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+
+At the door of the Krestowsky Rouletabille, who was in a hurry for
+a conveyance, jumped into an open carriage where la belle Onoto was
+already seated. The dancer caught him on her knees.
+
+“To Eliaguine, fast as you can,” cried the reporter for all explanation.
+
+“Scan! Scan! (Quickly, quickly)” repeated Onoto.
+
+She was accompanied by a vague sort of person to whom neither of them
+paid the least attention.
+
+“What a supper! You waked up at last, did you?” quizzed the actress. But
+Rouletabille, standing up behind the enormous coachman, urged the horses
+and directed the route of the carriage. They bolted along through the
+night at a dizzy pace. At the corner of a bridge he ordered the horses
+stopped, thanked his companions and disappeared.
+
+“What a country! What a country! Caramba!” said the Spanish artist.
+
+The carriage waited a few minutes, then turned back toward the city.
+
+Rouletabille got down the embankment and slowly, taking infinite
+precautions not to reveal his presence by making the least noise, made
+his way to where the river is widest. Seen through the blackness of the
+night the blacker mass of the Trebassof villa loomed like an enormous
+blot, he stopped. Then he glided like a snake through the reeds, the
+grass, the ferns. He was at the back of the villa, near the river, not
+far from the little path where he had discovered the passage of the
+assassin, thanks to the broken cobwebs. At that moment the moon rose and
+the birch-trees, which just before had been like great black staffs, now
+became white tapers which seemed to brighten that sinister solitude.
+
+The reporter wished to profit at once by the sudden luminance to learn
+if his movements had been noticed and if the approaches to the villa on
+that side were guarded. He picked up a small pebble and threw it some
+distance from him along the path. At the unexpected noise three or four
+shadowy heads were outlined suddenly in the white light of the moon, but
+disappeared at once, lost again in the dark tufts of grass.
+
+He had gained his information.
+
+The reporter’s acute ear caught a gliding in his direction, a slight
+swish of twigs; then all at once a shadow grew by his side and he felt
+the cold of a revolver barrel on his temple. He said “Koupriane,” and at
+once a hand seized his and pressed it.
+
+The night had become black again. He murmured: “How is it you are here
+in person?”
+
+The Prefect of Police whispered in his ear:
+
+“I have been informed that something will happen to-night. Natacha went
+to Krestowsky and exchanged some words with Annouchka there. Prince
+Galitch is involved, and it is an affair of State.”
+
+“Natacha has returned?” inquired Rouletabille.
+
+“Yes, a long time ago. She ought to be in bed. In any case she is
+pretending to be abed. The light from her chamber, in the window over
+the garden, has been put out.”
+
+“Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?”
+
+“Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out
+to-night.”
+
+“That’s a mistake. I shouldn’t have told her anything. She will take
+such extra precautions that the others will be instantly warned.”
+
+“I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this
+night, and that she must not leave the general’s chamber.”
+
+“That is perfect, if she will obey you.”
+
+“You see I have profited by all your information. I have followed your
+instructions. The road from the Krestowsky is under surveillance.”
+
+“Perhaps too much. How are you planning?”
+
+“We will let them enter. I don’t know whom I have to deal with. I want
+to strike a sure blow. I shall take him in the act. No more doubt after
+this, you trust me.”
+
+“Adieu.”
+
+“Where are you going?”
+
+“To bed. I have paid my debt to my host. I have the right to some repose
+now. Good luck!”
+
+But Koupriane had seized his hand.
+
+“Listen.”
+
+With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water. If
+a boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and wished to
+remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen. A great black
+cloud covered the moon; the wind was light. The boat would have time to
+get from one bank to the other without being discovered. Rouletabille
+waited no longer. On all-fours he ran like a beast, rapidly and
+silently, and rose behind the wall of the villa, where he made a turn,
+reached the gate, aroused the dvornicks and demanded Ermolai, who opened
+the gate for him.
+
+“The Barinia?” he said.
+
+Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.
+
+“Caracho!”
+
+Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself by
+his fingers to the window of Natacha’s chamber, where he listened. He
+plainly heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber. He fell back
+lightly onto his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the door,
+then closed it so lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from outside not
+two feet away, did not hear the slightest grinding of the hinges. Inside
+the villa Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe. He found the door of the
+drawing-room open. The door of the sitting-room had not been closed, or
+else had been reopened. He turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a
+chair and sat down, with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting
+for the events that would not delay long now. Above he heard distinctly
+from time to time the movements of Matrena Petrovna. And this would
+evidently give a sense of security to those who needed to have the
+ground-floor free this night. Rouletabille imagined that the doors of
+the rooms on the ground-floor had been left open so that it would be
+easier for those who would be below to hear what was happening upstairs.
+And perhaps he was not wrong.
+
+Suddenly there was a vertical bar of pale light from the sitting-room
+that overlooked the Neva. He deduced two things: first, that the window
+was already slightly open, then that the moon was out from the clouds
+again. The bar of light died almost instantly, but Rouletabille’s eyes,
+now used to the obscurity, still distinguished the open line of the
+window. There the shade was less deep. Suddenly he felt the blood pound
+at his temples, for the line of the open window grew larger, increased,
+and the shadow of a man gradually rose on the balcony. Rouletabille drew
+his revolver.
+
+The man stood up immediately behind one of the shutters and struck a
+light blow on the glass. Placed as he was now he could be seen no more.
+His shadow mixed with the shadow of the shutter. At the noise on
+the glass Natacha’s door had opened cautiously, and she entered the
+sitting-room. On tiptoe she went quickly to the window and opened it.
+The man entered. The little light that by now was commencing to dawn
+was enough to show Rouletabille that Natacha still wore the toilette in
+which he had seen her that same evening at Krestowsky. As for the man,
+he tried in vain to identify him; he was only a dark mass wrapped in
+a mantle. He leaned over and kissed Natacha’s hand. She said only one
+word: “Scan!” (Quickly).
+
+But she had no more than said it before, under a vigorous attack, the
+shutters and the two halves of the window were thrown wide, and silent
+shadows jumped rapidly onto the balcony and sprang into the villa.
+Natacha uttered a shrill cry in which Rouletabille believed still he
+heard more of despair than terror, and the shadows threw themselves on
+the man; but he, at the first alarm, had thrown himself upon the carpet
+and had slipped from them between their legs. He regained the balcony
+and jumped from it as the others turned toward him. At least, it was
+so that Rouletabille believed he saw the mysterious struggle go in the
+half-light, amid most impressive silence, after that frightened cry of
+Natacha’s. The whole affair had lasted only a few seconds, and the man
+was still hanging over the balcony, when from the bottom of the hall a
+new person sprang. It was Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Warned by Koupriane that something would happen that night, and
+foreseeing that it would happen on the ground-floor where she was
+forbidden to be, she had found nothing better to do than to make her
+faithful maid go secretly to the bedroom floor, with orders to walk
+about there all night, to make all think she herself was near the
+general, while she remained below, hidden in the dining-room.
+
+Matrena Petrovna now threw herself out onto the balcony, crying in
+Russian, “Shoot! Shoot!” In just that moment the man was hesitating
+whether to risk the jump and perhaps break his neck, or descend less
+rapidly by the gutter-pipe. A policeman fired and missed him, and the
+man, after firing back and wounding the policeman, disappeared. It was
+still too far from dawn for them to see clearly what happened below,
+where the barking of Brownings alone was heard. And there could be
+nothing more sinister than the revolver-shots unaccompanied by cries in
+the mists of the morning. The man, before he disappeared, had had only
+time by a quick kick to throw down one of the two ladders which had been
+used by the police in climbing; down the other one all the police in a
+bunch, even to the wounded one, went sliding, falling, rising, running
+after the shadow which fled still, discharging the Browning steadily;
+other shadows rose from the river-bank, hovering in the mist. Suddenly
+Koupriane’s voice was heard shouting orders, calling upon his agents to
+take the quarry alive or dead. From the balcony Matrena Petrovna cried
+out also, like a savage, and Rouletabille tried in vain to keep her
+quiet. She was delirious at the thought “The Other” might escape yet.
+She fired a revolver, she also, into the group, not knowing whom she
+might wound. Rouletabille grabbed her arm and as she turned on him
+angrily she observed Natacha, who, leaning until she almost fell over
+the balcony, her lips trembling with delirious utterance, followed as
+well as she could the progress of the struggle, trying to understand
+what happened below, under the trees, near the Neva, where the tumult
+by now extended. Matrena Petrovna pulled her back by the arms. Then she
+took her by the neck and threw her into the drawing-room in a heap. When
+she had almost strangled her step-daughter, Matrena Petrovna saw that
+the general was there. He appeared in the pale glimmerings of dawn like
+a specter. By what miracle had Feodor Feodorovitch been able to descend
+the stairs and reach there? How had it been brought about? She saw him
+tremble with anger or with wretchedness under the folds of the soldier’s
+cape that floated about him. He demanded in a hoarse voice, “What is
+it?”
+
+Matrena Petrovna threw herself at his feet, made the orthodox sign of
+the Cross, as if she wished to summon God to witness, and then, pointing
+to Natacha, she denounced his daughter to her husband as she would have
+pointed her out to a judge.
+
+“The one, Feodor Feodorovitch, who has wished more than once to
+assassinate you, and who this night has opened the datcha to your
+assassin is your daughter.”
+
+The general held himself up by his two hands against the wall, and,
+looking at Matrena and Natacha, who now were both upon the floor before
+him like suppliants, he said to Matrena:
+
+“It is you who assassinate me.”
+
+“Me! By the living God!” babbled Matrena Petrovna desperately. “If I had
+been able to keep this from you, Jesus would have been good! But I say
+no more to crucify you. Feodor Feodorovitch, question your daughter,
+and if what I have said is not true, kill me, kill me as a lying, evil
+beast. I will say thank you, thank you, and I will die happier than if
+what I have said was true. Ah, I long to be dead! Kill me!”
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch pushed her back with his stick as one would push
+a worm in his path. Without saying anything further, she rose from
+her knees and looked with her haggard eyes, with her crazed face, at
+Rouletabille, who grasped her arm. If she had had her hands still free
+she would not have hesitated a second in wreaking justice upon herself
+under this bitter fate of alienating Feodor. And it seemed frightful to
+Rouletabille that he should be present at one of those horrible family
+dramas the issue of which in the wild times of Peter the Great would
+have sent the general to the hangman either as a father or as a husband.
+
+The general did not deign even to consider for any length of time
+Matrena’s delirium. He said to his daughter, who shook with sobs on the
+floor, “Rise, Natacha Feodorovna.” And Feodor’s daughter understood that
+her father never would believe in her guilt. She drew herself up towards
+him and kissed his hands like a happy slave.
+
+At this moment repeated blows shook the veranda door. Matrena, the
+watch-dog, anxious to die after Feodor’s reproach, but still at
+her post, ran toward what she believed to be a new danger. But she
+recognized Koupriane’s voice, which called on her to open. She let him
+in herself.
+
+“What is it?” she implored.
+
+“Well, he is dead.”
+
+A cry answered him. Natacha had heard.
+
+“But who--who--who?” questioned Matrena breathlessly.
+
+Koupriane went over to Feodor and grasped his hands.
+
+“General,” he said, “there was a man who had sworn your ruin and who was
+made an instrument by your enemies. We have just killed that man.”
+
+“Do I know him?” demanded Feodor.
+
+“He is one of your friends, you have treated him like a son.”
+
+“His name?”
+
+“Ask your daughter, General.”
+
+Feodor turned toward Natacha, who burned Koupriane with her gaze, trying
+to learn what this news was he brought--the truth or a ruse.
+
+“You know the man who wished to kill me, Natacha?”
+
+“No,” she replied to her father, in accents of perfect fury. “No, I
+don’t know any such man.”
+
+“Mademoiselle,” said Koupriane, in a firm, terribly hostile voice, “you
+have yourself, with your own hands, opened that window to-night; and you
+have opened it to him many other times besides. While everyone else here
+does his duty and watches that no person shall be able to enter at night
+the house where sleeps General Trebassof, governor of Moscow, condemned
+to death by the Central Revolutionary Committee now reunited at Presnia,
+this is what you do; it is you who introduce the enemy into this place.”
+
+“Answer, Natacha; tell me, yes or no, whether you have let anybody into
+this house by night.”
+
+“Father, it is true.”
+
+Feodor roared like a lion:
+
+“His name!”
+
+“Monsieur will tell you himself,” said Natacha, in a voice thick with
+terror, and she pointed to Koupriane. “Why does he not tell you himself
+the name of that person? He must know it, if the man is dead.”
+
+“And if the man is not dead,” replied Feodor, who visibly held onto
+himself, “if that man, whom you helped to enter my house this night, has
+succeeded in escaping, as you seem to hope, will you tell us his name?”
+
+“I could not tell it, Father.”
+
+“And if I prayed you to do so?”
+
+Natacha desperately shook her head.
+
+“And if I order you?”
+
+“You can kill me, Father, but I will not pronounce that name.”
+
+“Wretch!”
+
+He raised his stick toward her. Thus Ivan the Terrible had killed his
+son with a blow of his boar-spear.
+
+But Natacha, instead of bowing her head beneath the blow that menaced
+her, turned toward Koupriane and threw at him in accents of triumph:
+
+“He is not dead. If you had succeeded in taking him, dead or alive, you
+would already have his name.”
+
+Koupriane took two steps toward her, put his hand on her shoulder and
+said:
+
+“Michael Nikolaievitch.”
+
+“Michael Korsakoff!” cried the general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, as if revolted by that suggestion, stood upright to
+repeat:
+
+“Michael Korsakoff!”
+
+The general could not believe his ears, and was about to protest when he
+noticed that his daughter had turned away and was trying to flee to her
+room. He stopped her with a terrible gesture.
+
+“Natacha, you are going to tell us what Michael Korsakoff came here to
+do to-night.”
+
+“Feodor Feodorovitch, he came to poison you.”
+
+It was Matrena who spoke now and whom nothing could have kept silent,
+for she saw in Natacha’s attempt at flight the most sinister confession.
+Like a vengeful fury she told over with cries and terrible gestures what
+she had experienced, as if once more stretched before her the hand
+armed with the poison, the mysterious hand above the pillow of her poor
+invalid, her dear, rigorous tyrant; she told them about the preceding
+night and all her terrors, and from her lips, by her voluble staccato
+utterance that ominous recital had grotesque emphasis. Finally she told
+all that she had done, she and the little Frenchman, in order not to
+betray their suspicions to The Other, in order to take finally in their
+own trap all those who for so many days and nights schemed for the death
+of Feodor Feodorovitch. As she ended she pointed out Rouletabille to
+Feodor and cried, “There is the one who has saved you.”
+
+Natacha, as she listened to this tragic recital, restrained herself
+several times in order not to interrupt, and Rouletabille, who was
+watching her closely, saw that she had to use almost superhuman efforts
+in order to achieve that. All the horror of what seemed to be to her as
+well as to Feodor a revelation of Michael’s crime did not subdue her,
+but seemed, on the contrary, to restore to her in full force all the
+life that a few seconds earlier had fled from her. Matrena had hardly
+finished her cry, “There is the one who has saved you,” before Natacha
+cried in her turn, facing the reporter with a look full of the most
+frightful hate, “There is the one who has been the death of an innocent
+man!” She turned to her father. “Ah, papa, let me, let me say that
+Michael Nikolaievitch, who came here this evening, I admit, and whom, it
+is true, I let into the house, that Michael Nikolaievitch did not
+come here yesterday, and that the man who has tried to poison you is
+certainly someone else.”
+
+At these words Rouletabille turned pale, but he did not let himself lose
+self-control. He replied simply:
+
+“No, mademoiselle, it was the same man.”
+
+And Koupriane felt compelled to add:
+
+“Anyway, we have found the proof of Michael Nikolaievitch’s relations
+with the revolutionaries.”
+
+“Where have you found that?” questioned the young girl, turning toward
+the Chief of Police a face ravished with anguish.
+
+“At Krestowsky, mademoiselle.”
+
+She looked a long time at him as though she would penetrate to the
+bottom of his thoughts.
+
+“What proofs?” she implored.
+
+“A correspondence which we have placed under seal.”
+
+“Was it addressed to him? What kind of correspondence?”
+
+“If it interests you, we will open it before you.”
+
+“My God! My God!” she gasped. “Where have you found this correspondence?
+Where? Tell me where!”
+
+“I will tell you. At the villa, in his chamber. We forced the lock of
+his bureau.”
+
+She seemed to breathe again, but her father took her brutally by the
+arm.
+
+“Come, Natacha, you are going to tell us what that man was doing here
+to-night.”
+
+“In her chamber!” cried Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Natacha turned toward Matrena:
+
+“What do you believe, then? Tell me now.”
+
+“And I, what ought I to believe?” muttered Feodor. “You have not told
+me yet. You did not know that man had relations with my enemies. You are
+innocent of that, perhaps. I wish to think so. I wish it, in the name
+of Heaven I wish it. But why did you receive him? Why? Why did you bring
+him in here, as a robber or as a...”
+
+“Oh, papa, you know that I love Boris, that I love him with all my
+heart, and that I would never belong to anyone but him.”
+
+“Then, then, then.--speak!”
+
+The young girl had reached the crisis.
+
+“Ah, Father, Father, do not question me! You, you above all, do not
+question me now. I can say nothing! There is nothing I can tell
+you. Excepting that I am sure--sure, you understand--that Michael
+Nikolaievitch did not come here last night.”
+
+“He did come,” insisted Rouletabille in a slightly troubled voice.
+
+“He came here with poison. He came here to poison your father, Natacha,”
+ moaned Matrena Petrovna, who twined her hands in gestures of sincere and
+naive tragedy.
+
+“And I,” replied the daughter of Feodor ardently, with an accent
+of conviction which made everyone there vibrate, and particularly
+Rouletabille, “and I, I tell you it was not he, that it was not he, that
+it could not possibly be he. I swear to you it was another, another.”
+
+“But then, this other, did you let him in as well?” said Koupriane.
+
+“Ah, yes, yes. It was I. It was I. It was I who left the window and
+blinds open. Yes, it is I who did that. But I did not wait for the
+other, the other who came to assassinate. As to Michael Nikolaievitch,
+I swear to you, my father, by all that is most sacred in heaven and
+on earth, that he could not have committed the crime that you say. And
+now--kill me, for there is nothing more I can say.”
+
+“The poison,” replied Koupriane coldly, “the poison that he poured into
+the general’s potion was that arsenate of soda which was on the grapes
+the Marshal of the Court brought here. Those grapes were left by the
+Marshal, who warned Michael Nikolaievitch and Boris Alexandrovitch to
+wash them. The grapes disappeared. If Michael is innocent, do you accuse
+Boris?”
+
+Natacha, who seemed to have suddenly lost all power for defending
+herself, moaned, begged, railed, seemed dying.
+
+“No, no. Don’t accuse Boris. He has nothing to do with it. Don’t accuse
+Michael. Don’t accuse anyone so long as you don’t know. But these two
+are innocent. Believe me. Believe me. Ah, how shall I say it, how shall
+I persuade you! I am not able to say anything to you. And you have
+killed Michael. Ah, what have you done, what have you done!”
+
+“We have suppressed a man,” said the icy voice of Koupriane, “who was
+merely the agent for the base deeds of Nihilism.”
+
+She succeeded in recovering a new energy that in her depths of despair
+they would have supposed impossible. She shook her fists at Koupriane:
+
+“It is not true, it is not true. These are slanders, infamies! The
+inventions of the police! Papers devised to incriminate him. There
+is nothing at all of what you said you found at his house. It is not
+possible. It is not true.”
+
+“Where are those papers?” demanded the curt voice of Feodor. “Bring them
+here at once, Koupriane; I wish to see them.”
+
+Koupriane was slightly troubled, and this did not escape Natacha, who
+cried:
+
+“Yes, yes, let him give us them, let him bring them if he has them. But
+he hasn’t,” she clamored with a savage joy. “He has nothing. You can
+see, papa, that he has nothing. He would already have brought them out.
+He has nothing. I tell you he has nothing. Ah, he has nothing! He has
+nothing!”
+
+And she threw herself on the floor, weeping, sobbing, “He has nothing,
+he has nothing!” She seemed to weep for joy.
+
+“Is that true?” demanded Feodor Feodorovitch, with his most somber
+manner. “Is it true, Koupriane, that you have nothing?”
+
+“It is true, General, that we have found nothing. Everything had already
+been carried away.”
+
+But Natacha uttered a veritable torrent of glee:
+
+“He has found nothing! Yet he accuses him of being allied with
+the revolutionaries. Why? Why? Because I let him in? But I, am I a
+revolutionary? Tell me. Have I sworn to kill papa? I? I? Ah, he doesn’t
+know what to say. You see for yourself, papa, he is silent. He has lied.
+He has lied.”
+
+“Why have you made this false statement, Koupriane?”
+
+“Oh, we have suspected Michael for some time, and truly, after what has
+just happened, we cannot have any doubt.”
+
+“Yes, but you declared you had papers, and you have not. That is
+abominable procedure, Koupriane,” replied Feodor sternly. “I have heard
+you condemn such expedients many times.”
+
+“General! We are sure, you hear, we are absolutely sure that the man who
+tried to poison you yesterday and the man to-day who is dead are one and
+the same.”
+
+“And what reason have you for being so sure? It is necessary to tell
+it,” insisted the general, who trembled with distress and impatience.
+
+“Yes, let him tell now.”
+
+“Ask monsieur,” said Koupriane.
+
+They all turned to Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter replied, affecting a coolness that perhaps he did not
+entirely feel:
+
+“I am able to state to you, as I already have before Monsieur the
+Prefect of Police, that one, and only one, person has left the traces of
+his various climbings on the wall and on the balcony.”
+
+“Idiot!” interrupted Natacha, with a passionate disdain for the young
+man. “And that satisfies you?”
+
+The general roughly seized the reporter’s wrist:
+
+“Listen to me, monsieur. A man came here this night. That concerns only
+me. No one has any right to be astonished excepting myself. I make it my
+own affair, an affair between my daughter and me. But you, you have just
+told us that you are sure that man is an assassin. Then, you see, that
+calls for something else. Proofs are necessary, and I want the proofs
+at once. You speak of traces; very well, we will go and examine those
+traces together. And I wish for your sake, monsieur, that I shall be as
+convinced by them as you are.”
+
+Rouletabille quietly disengaged his wrist and replied with perfect calm:
+
+“Now, monsieur, I am no longer able to prove anything to you.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because the ladders of the police agents have wiped out all my proofs,
+monsieur.
+
+“So now there remains for us only your word, only your belief in
+yourself. And if you are mistaken?”
+
+“He would never admit it, papa,” cried Natacha. “Ah, it is he who
+deserves the fate Michael Nikolaievitch has met just now. Isn’t it so?
+Don’t you know it? And that will be your eternal remorse! Isn’t there
+something that always keeps you from admitting that you are mistaken?
+You have had an innocent man killed. Now, you know well enough, you know
+well that I would not have admitted Michael Nikolaievitch here if I had
+believed he was capable of wishing to poison my father.”
+
+“Mademoiselle,” replied Rouletabille, not lowering his eyes under
+Natacha’s thunderous regard, “I am sure of that.”
+
+He said it in such a tone that Natacha continued to look at him with
+incomprehensible anguish in her eyes. Ah, the baffling of those two
+regards, the mute scene between those two young people, one of whom
+wished to make himself understood and the other afraid beyond all other
+things of being thoroughly understood. Natacha murmured:
+
+“How he looks at me! See, he is the demon; yes, yes, the little domovoi,
+the little domovoi. But look out, poor wretch; you don’t know what you
+have done.”
+
+She turned brusquely toward Koupriane:
+
+“Where is the body of Michael Nikolaievitch?” said she. “I wish to see
+it. I must see it.”
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch had fallen, as though asleep, upon a chair. Matrena
+Petrovna dared not approach him. The giant appeared hurt to the death,
+disheartened forever. What neither bombs, nor bullets, nor poison had
+been able to do, the single idea of his daughter’s co-operation in the
+work of horror plotted about him--or rather the impossibility he faced
+of understanding Natacha’s attitude, her mysterious conduct, the
+chaos of her explanations, her insensate cries, her protestations
+of innocence, her accusations, her menaces, her prayers and all
+her disorder, the avowed fact of her share in that tragic nocturnal
+adventure where Michael Nikolaievitch found his death, had knocked over
+Feodor Feodorovitch like a straw. One instant he sought refuge in some
+vague hope that Koupriane was less assured than he pretended of the
+orderly’s guilt. But that, after all, was only a detail of no importance
+in his eyes. What alone mattered was the significance of Natacha’s act,
+and the unhappy girl seemed not to be concerned over what he would
+think of it. She was there to fight against Koupriane, Rouletabille and
+Matrena Petrovna, defending her Michael Nikolaievitch, while he, the
+father, after having failed to overawe her just now, was there in a
+corner suffering agonizedly.
+
+Koupriane walked over to him and said:
+
+“Listen to me carefully, Feodor Feodorovitch. He who speaks to you is
+Head of the Police by the will of the Tsar, and your friend by the grace
+of God. If you do not demand before us, who are acquainted with all that
+has happened and who know how to keep any necessary secret, if you do
+not demand of your daughter the reason for her conduct with Michael
+Nikolaievitch, and if she does not tell you in all sincerity, there is
+nothing more for me to do here. My men have already been ordered away
+from this house as unworthy to guard the most loyal subject of His
+Majesty; I have not protested, but now I in my turn ask you to prove to
+me that the most dangerous enemy you have had in your house is not your
+daughter.”
+
+These words, which summed up the horrible situation, came as a relief
+for Feodor. Yes, they must know. Koupriane was right. She must speak. He
+ordered his daughter to tell everything, everything.
+
+Natacha fixed Koupriane again with her look of hatred to the death,
+turned from him and repeated in a firm voice:
+
+“I have nothing to say.”
+
+“There is the accomplice of your assassins,” growled Koupriane then, his
+arm extended.
+
+Natacha uttered a cry like a wounded beast and fell at her father’s
+feet. She gathered them within her supplicating arms. She pressed them
+to her breasts. She sobbed from the bottom of her heart. And he, not
+comprehending, let her lie there, distant, hostile, somber. Then she
+moaned, distractedly, and wept bitterly, and the dramatic atmosphere in
+which she thus suddenly enveloped Feodor made it all sound like those
+cries of an earlier time when the all-powerful, punishing father
+appeared in the women’s apartments to punish the culpable ones.
+
+“My father! Dear Father! Look at me! Look at me! Have pity on me, and do
+not require me to speak when I must be silent forever. And believe me!
+Do not believe these men! Do not believe Matrena Petrovna. And am I not
+your daughter? Your very own daughter! Your Natacha Feodorovna! I cannot
+make things dear to you. No, no, by the Holy Virgin Mother of Jesus
+I cannot explain. By the holy ikons, it is because I must not. By my
+mother, whom I have not known and whose place you have taken, oh, my
+father, ask me nothing more! Ask me nothing more! But take me in your
+arms as you did when I was little; embrace me, dear father; love me.
+I never have had such need to be loved. Love me! I am miserable.
+Unfortunate me, who cannot even kill myself before your eyes to prove
+my innocence and my love. Papa, Papa! What will your arms be for in the
+days left you to live, if you no longer wish to press me to your heart?
+Papa! Papa!”
+
+She laid her head on Feodor’s knees. Her hair had come down and hung
+about her in a magnificent disorderly mass of black.
+
+“Look in my eyes! Look in my eyes! See how they love you, Batouchka!
+Batouchka! My dear Batouchka!”
+
+Then Feodor wept. His great tears fell upon Natacha’s tears. He raised
+her head and demanded simply in a broken voice:
+
+“You can tell me nothing now? But when will you tell me?”
+
+Natacha lifted her eyes to his, then her look went past him toward
+heaven, and from her lips came just one word, in a sob:
+
+“Never.”
+
+Matrena Petrovna, Koupriane and the reporter shuddered before the high
+and terrible thing that happened then. Feodor had taken his daughter’s
+face between his hands. He looked long at those eyes raised toward
+heaven, the mouth which had just uttered the word “Never,” then, slowly,
+his rude lips went to the tortured, quivering lips of the girl. He held
+her close. She raised her head wildly, triumphantly, and cried, with arm
+extended toward Matrena Petrovna:
+
+“He believes me! He believes me! And you would have believed me also if
+you had been my real mother.”
+
+Her head fell back and she dropped unconscious to the floor. Feodor fell
+to his knees, tending her, deploring her, motioning the others out of
+the room.
+
+“Go away! All of you, go! All! You, too, Matrena Petrovna. Go away!”
+
+They disappeared, terrified by his savage gesture.
+
+In the little datcha across the river at Krestowsky there was a body.
+Secret Service agents guarded it while they waited for their chief.
+Michael Nikolaievitch had come there to die, and the police had
+reached him just at his last breath. They were behind him as, with the
+death-rattle in his throat, he pulled himself into his chamber and fell
+in a heap. Katharina the Bohemian was there. She bent her quick-witted,
+puzzled head over his death agony. The police swarmed everywhere,
+ransacking, forcing locks, pulling drawers from the bureau and tables,
+emptying the cupboards. Their search took in everything, even to ripping
+the mattresses, and not respecting the rooms of Boris Mourazoff, who
+was away this night. They searched thoroughly, but they found absolutely
+nothing they were looking for in Michael’s rooms. But they accumulated a
+multitude of publications that belonged to Boris: Western books, essays
+on political economy, a history of the French Revolution, and verses
+that a man ought to hang for. They put them all under seal. During the
+search Michael died in Katharina’s arms. She had held him close, after
+opening his clothes over the chest, doubtless to make his last breaths
+easier. The unfortunate officer had received a bullet at the back of
+the head just after he had plunged into the Neva from the rear of the
+Trebassof datcha and started to swim across. It was a miracle that he
+had managed to keep going. Doubtless he hoped to die in peace if only
+he could reach his own house. He apparently had believed he could manage
+that once he had broken through his human bloodhounds. He did not know
+he was recognized and his place of retreat therefore known.
+
+Now the police had gone from cellar to garret. Koupriane came from the
+Trebassof villa and joined them, Rouletabille followed him. The reporter
+could not stand the sight of that body, that still had a lingering
+warmth, of the great open eyes that seemed to stare at him, reproaching
+him for this violent death. He turned away in distaste, and perhaps a
+little in fright. Koupriane caught the movement.
+
+“Regrets?” he queried.
+
+“Yes,” said Rouletabille. “A death always must be regretted. None the
+less, he was a criminal. But I’m sincerely sorry he died before he had
+been driven to confess, even though we are sure of it.”
+
+“Being in the pay of the Nihilists, you mean? That is still your
+opinion?” asked Koupriane.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You know that nothing has been found here in his rooms. The only
+compromising papers that have been found belong to Boris Mourazoff.”
+
+“Why do you say that?”
+
+“Oh--nothing.”
+
+Koupriane questioned his men further. They replied categorically. No,
+nothing had been found that directly incriminated anybody; and suddenly
+Rouletabille noted that the conversation of the police and their chief
+had grown more animated. Koupriane had become angry and was violently
+reproaching them. They excused themselves with vivid gesture and rapid
+speech.
+
+Koupriane started away. Rouletabille followed him. What had happened?
+
+As he came up behind Koupriane, he asked the question. In a few curt
+words, still hurrying on, Koupriane told the reporter he had just
+learned that the police had left the little Bohemian Katharina alone for
+a moment with the expiring officer. Katharina acted as housekeeper for
+Michael and Boris. She knew the secrets of them both. The first thing
+any novice should have known was to keep a constant eye upon her, and
+now no one knew where she was. She must be searched for and found at
+once, for she had opened Michael’s shirt, and therein probably lay the
+reason that no papers were found on the corpse when the police searched
+it. The absence of papers, of a portfolio, was not natural.
+
+The chase commenced in the rosy dawn of the isles. Already blood-like
+tints were on the horizon. Some of the police cried that they had the
+trail. They ran under the trees, because it was almost certain she had
+taken the narrow path leading to the bridge that joins Krestowsky to
+Kameny-Ostrow. Some indications discovered by the police who swarmed to
+right and left of the path confirmed this hypothesis. And no carriage in
+sight! They all ran on, Koupriane among the first. Rouletabille kept at
+his heels, but he did not pass him. Suddenly there were cries and calls
+among the police. One pointed out something below gliding upon the
+sloping descent. It was little Katharina. She flew like the wind, but
+in a distracted course. She had reached Kameny-Ostrow on the west bank.
+“Oh, for a carriage, a horse!” clamored Koupriane, who had left his
+turn-out at Eliaguine. “The proof is there. It is the final proof of
+everything that is escaping us!”
+
+Dawn was enough advanced now to show the ground clearly. Katharina was
+easily discernible as she reached the Eliaguine bridge. There she was
+in Eliaguine-Ostrow. What was she doing there? Was she going to the
+Trebassof villa? What would she have to say to them? No, she swerved
+to the right. The police raced behind her. She was still far ahead, and
+seemed untiring. Then she disappeared among the trees, in the thicket,
+keeping still to the right. Koupriane gave a cry of joy. Going that way
+she must be taken. He gave some breathless orders for the island to be
+barred. She could not escape now! She could not escape! But where was
+she going? Koupriane knew that island better than anybody. He took a
+short cut to reach the other side, toward which Katharina seemed to be
+heading, and all at once he nearly fell over the girl, who gave a squawk
+of surprise and rushed away, seeming all arms and legs.
+
+“Stop, or I fire!” cried Koupriane, and he drew his revolver. But a hand
+grabbed it from him.
+
+“Not that!” said Rouletabille, as he threw the revolver far from them.
+Koupriane swore at him and resumed the chase. His fury multiplied his
+strength, his agility; he almost reached Katharina, who was almost out
+of breath, but Rouletabille threw himself into the Chief’s arms and
+they rolled together upon the grass. When Koupriane rose, it was to see
+Katharina mounting in mad haste the stairs that led to the Barque, the
+floating restaurant of the Strielka. Cursing Rouletabille, but believing
+his prey easily captured now, the Chief in his turn hurried to the
+Barque, into which Katharina had disappeared. He reached the bottom of
+the stairs. On the top step, about to descend from the festive place,
+the form of Prince Galitch appeared. Koupriane received the sight like a
+blow stopping him short in his ascent. Galitch had an exultant air which
+Koupriane did not mistake. Evidently he had arrived too late. He felt
+the certainty of it in profound discouragement. And this appearance of
+the prince on the Barque explained convincingly enough the reason for
+Katharina’s flight here.
+
+If the Bohemian had filched the papers or the portfolio from the dead,
+it was the prince now who had them in his pocket.
+
+Koupriane, as he saw the prince about to pass him, trembled. The prince
+saluted him and ironically amused himself by inquiring:
+
+“Well, well, how do you do, my dear Monsieur Koupriane. Your Excellency
+has risen in good time this morning, it seems to me. Or else it is I who
+start for bed too late.”
+
+“Prince,” said Koupriane, “my men are in pursuit of a little Bohemian
+named Katharina, well known in the restaurants where she sings. We have
+seen her go into the Barque. Have you met her by any chance?”
+
+“Good Lord, Monsieur Koupriane, I am not the concierge of the Barque,
+and I have not noticed anything at all, and nobody. Besides, I am
+naturally a little sleepy. Pardon me.”
+
+“Prince, it is not possible that you have not seen Katharina.”
+
+“Oh, Monsieur the Prefect of Police, if I had seen her I would not tell
+you about it, since you are pursuing her. Do you take me for one of your
+bloodhounds? They say you have them in all classes, but I insist that I
+haven’t enlisted yet. You have made a mistake, Monsieur Koupriane.”
+
+The prince saluted again. But Koupriane still stood in his way.
+
+“Prince, consider that this matter is very serious. Michael
+Nikolaievitch, General Trebassof’s orderly, is dead, and this little
+girl has stolen his papers from his body. All persons who have spoken
+with Katharina will be under suspicion. This is an affair of State,
+monsieur, which may reach very far. Can you swear to me that you have
+not seen, that you have not spoken to Katharina?”
+
+The prince looked at Koupriane so insolently that the Prefect turned
+pale with rage. Ah, if he were able--if he only dared!--but such men as
+this were beyond him. Galitch walked past him without a word of answer,
+and ordered the schwitzar to call him a carriage.
+
+“Very well,” said Koupriane, “I will make my report to the Tsar.”
+
+Galitch turned. He was as pale as Koupriane.
+
+“In that case, monsieur,” said he, “don’t forget to add that I am His
+Majesty’s most humble servant.”
+
+The carriage drew up. The prince stepped in. Koupriane watched him roll
+away, raging at heart and with his fists doubled. Just then his men came
+up.
+
+“Go. Search,” he said roughly, pointing into the Barque.
+
+They scattered through the establishment, entering all the rooms. Cries
+of irritation and of protest arose. Those lingering after the latest of
+late suppers were not pleased at this invasion of the police. Everybody
+had to rise while the police looked under the tables, the benches, the
+long table-cloths. They went into the pantries and down into the hold.
+No sign of Katharina. Suddenly Koupriane, who leaned against a netting
+and looked vaguely out upon the horizon, waiting for the outcome of the
+search, got a start. Yonder, far away on the other side of the river,
+between a little wood and the Staria Derevnia, a light boat drew to the
+shore, and a little black spot jumped from it like a flea. Koupriane
+recognized the little black spot as Katharina. She was safe. Now he could
+not reach her. It would be useless to search the maze of the Bohemian
+quarter, where her country-people lived in full control, with customs
+and privileges that had never been infringed. The entire Bohemian
+population of the capital would have risen against him. It was Prince
+Galitch who had made him fail. One of his men came to him:
+
+“No luck,” said he. “We have not found Katharina, but she has been here
+nevertheless. She met Prince Galitch for just a minute, and gave him
+something, then went over the other side into a canoe.”
+
+“Very well,” and the Prefect shrugged his shoulders. “I was sure of it.”
+
+He felt more and more, exasperated. He went down along the river edge
+and the first person he saw was Rouletabille, who waited for him without
+any impatience, seated philosophically on a bench.
+
+“I was looking for you,” cried the Prefect. “We have failed. By your
+fault! If you had not thrown yourself into my arms--”
+
+“I did it on purpose,” declared the reporter.
+
+“What! What is that you say? You did it on purpose?”
+
+Koupriane choked with rage.
+
+“Your Excellency,” said Rouletabille, taking him by the arm, “calm
+yourself. They are watching us. Come along and have a cup of tea at
+Cubat’s place. Easy now, as though we were out for a walk.”
+
+“Will you explain to me?”
+
+“No, no, Your Excellency. Remember that I have promised you General
+Trebassof’s life in exchange for your prisoner’s. Very well; by throwing
+myself in your arms and keeping you from reaching Katharina, I saved the
+general’s life. It is very simple.”
+
+“Are you laughing at me? Do you think you can mock me?”
+
+But the prefect saw quickly that Rouletabille was not fooling and had no
+mockery in his manner.
+
+“Monsieur,” he insisted, “since you speak seriously, I certainly wish to
+understand--”
+
+“It is useless,” said Rouletabille. “It is very necessary that you
+should not understand.”
+
+“But at least...”
+
+“No, no, I can’t tell you anything.”
+
+“When, then, will you tell me something to explain your unbelievable
+conduct?”
+
+Rouletabille stopped in his tracks and declared solemnly:
+
+“Monsieur Koupriane, recall what Natacha Feodorovna as she raised her
+lovely eyes to heaven, replied to her father, when he, also, wished to
+understand: ‘Never.’”
+
+
+
+
+
+XI. THE POISON CONTINUES
+
+At ten o’clock that morning Rouletabille went to the Trebassof villa,
+which had its guard of secret agents again, a double guard, because
+Koupriane was sure the Nihilists would not delay in avenging Michael’s
+death. Rouletabille was met by Ermolai, who would not allow him to
+enter. The faithful servant uttered some explanation in Russian, which
+the young man did not understand, or, rather, Rouletabille understood
+perfectly from his manner that henceforth the door of the villa was
+closed to him. In vain he insisted on seeing the general, Matrena
+Petrovna and Mademoiselle Natacha. Ermolai made no reply but “Niet,
+niet, niet.” The reporter turned away without having seen anyone, and
+walked away deeply depressed. He went afoot clear into the city, a long
+promenade, during which his brain surged with the darkest forebodings.
+As he passed by the Department of Police he resolved to see Koupriane
+again. He went in, gave his name, and was ushered at once to the Chief
+of Police, whom he found bent over a long report that he was reading
+through with noticeable agitation.
+
+“Gounsovski has sent me this,” he said in a rough voice, pointing to the
+report. “Gounsovski, ‘to do me a service,’ desires me to know that he is
+fully aware of all that happened at the Trebassof datcha last night. He
+warns me that the revolutionaries have decided to get through with the
+general at once, and that two of them have been given the mission to
+enter the datcha in any way possible. They will have bombs upon their
+bodies and will blow the bombs and themselves up together as soon as
+they are beside the general. Who are the two victims designated for this
+horrible vengeance, and who have light-heartedly accepted such a death
+for themselves as well as for the general? That is what we don’t know.
+That is what we would have known, perhaps, if you had not prevented
+me from seizing the papers that Prince Galitch has now,” Koupriane
+finished, turning hostilely toward Rouletabille.
+
+Rouletabille had turned pale.
+
+“Don’t regret what happened to the papers,” he said. “It is I who tell
+you not to. But what you say doesn’t surprise me. They must believe that
+Natacha has betrayed them.”
+
+“Ah, then you admit at last that she really is their accomplice?”
+
+“I haven’t said that and I don’t admit it. But I know what I mean, and
+you, you can’t. Only, know this one thing, that at the present moment
+I am the only person able to save you in this horrible situation. To do
+that I must see Natacha at once. Make her understand this, while I wait
+at my hotel for word. I’ll not leave it.”
+
+Rouletabille saluted Koupriane and went out.
+
+Two days passed, during which Rouletabille did not receive any word from
+either Natacha or Koupriane, and tried in vain to see them. He made a
+trip for a few hours to Finland, going as far as Pergalovo, an isolated
+town said to be frequented by the revolutionaries, then returned, much
+disturbed, to his hotel, after having written a last letter to Natacha
+imploring an interview. The minutes passed very slowly for him in the
+hotel’s vestibule, where he had seemed to have taken up a definite
+residence.
+
+Installed on a bench, he seemed to have become part of the hotel staff,
+and more than one traveler took him for an interpreter. Others thought
+he was an agent of the Secret Police appointed to study the faces of
+those arriving and departing. What was he waiting for, then? Was it
+for Annouchka to return for a luncheon or dinner in that place that
+she sometimes frequented? And did he at the same time keep watch upon
+Annouchka’s apartments just across the way? If that was so, he could
+only bewail his luck, for Annouchka did not appear either at her
+apartments or the hotel, or at the Krestowsky establishment, which
+had been obliged to suppress her performance. Rouletabille naturally
+thought, in the latter connection, that some vengeance by Gounsovski lay
+back of this, since the head of the Secret Service could hardly forget
+the way he had been treated. The reporter could see already the poor
+singer, in spite of all her safeguards and the favor of the Imperial
+family, on the road to the Siberian steppes or the dungeons of
+Schlusselbourg.
+
+“My, what a country!” he murmured.
+
+But his thoughts soon quit Annouchka and returned to the object of his
+main preoccupation. He waited for only one thing, and for that as soon
+as possible--to have a private interview with Natacha. He had written
+her ten letters in two days, but they all remained unanswered. It was an
+answer that he waited for so patiently in the vestibule of the hotel--so
+patiently, but so nervously, so feverishly.
+
+When the postman entered, poor Rouletabille’s heart beat rapidly. On
+that answer he waited for depended the formidable part he meant to play
+before quitting Russia. He had accomplished nothing up to now, unless he
+could play his part in this later development.
+
+But the letter did not come. The postman left, and the schwitzar, after
+examining all the mail, made him a negative sign. Ah, the servants who
+entered, and the errand-boys, how he looked at them! But they never came
+for him. Finally, at six o’clock in the evening of the second day, a man
+in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan collar, came in and handed the
+concierge a letter for Joseph Rouletabille. The reporter jumped up.
+Before the man was out the door he had torn open the letter and read it.
+The letter was not from Natacha. It was from Gounsovski. This is what it
+said:
+
+“My dear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, if it will not inconvenience
+you, I wish you would come and dine with me to-day. I will look for
+you within two hours. Madame Gounsovski will be pleased to make your
+acquaintance. Believe me your devoted Gounsovski.”
+
+Rouletabille considered, and decided:
+
+“I will go. He ought to have wind of what is being plotted, and as for
+me, I don’t know where Annouchka has gone. I have more to learn from
+him than he has from me. Besides, as Athanase Georgevitch said, one may
+regret not accepting the Head of the Okrana’s pleasant invitation.”
+
+From six o’clock to seven he still waited vainly for Natacha’s response.
+At seven o’clock, he decided to dress for the dinner. Just as he rose,
+a messenger arrived. There was still another letter for Joseph
+Rouletabille. This time it was from Natacha, who wrote him:
+
+“General Trebassof and my step-mother will be very happy to have you
+come to dinner to-day. As for myself, monsieur, you will pardon me the
+order which has closed to you for a number of days a dwelling where you
+have rendered services which I shall not forget all my life.”
+
+The letter ended with a vague polite formula. With the letter in his
+hand the reporter sat in thought. He seemed to be asking himself, “Is it
+fish or flesh?” Was it a letter of thanks or of menace? That was what he
+could not decide. Well, he would soon know, for he had decided to
+accept that invitation. Anything that brought him and Natacha into
+communication at the moment was a thing of capital importance to him.
+Half-an-hour later he gave the address of the villa to an isvotchick,
+and soon he stepped out before the gate where Ermolai seemed to be
+waiting for him.
+
+Rouletabille was so occupied by thought of the conversation he was going
+to have with Natacha that he had completely forgotten the excellent
+Monsieur Gounsovski and his invitation.
+
+The reporter found Koupriane’s agents making a close-linked chain around
+the grounds and each watching the other. Matrena had not wished any
+agent to be in house. He showed Koupriane’s pass and entered.
+
+Ermolai ushered Rouletabille in with shining face. He seemed glad
+to have him there again. He bowed low before him and uttered many
+compliments, of which the reporter did not understand a word.
+Rouletabille passed on, entered the garden and saw Matrena Petrovna there
+walking with her step-daughter. They seemed on the best of terms with
+each other. The grounds wore an air of tranquillity and the residents
+seemed to have totally forgotten the somber tragedy of the other night.
+Matrena and Natacha came smilingly up to the young man, who inquired
+after the general. They both turned and pointed out Feodor Feodorovitch,
+who waved to him from the height of the kiosk, where it seemed the table
+had been spread. They were going to dine out of doors this fine night.
+
+“Everything goes very well, very well indeed, dear little domovoi,” said
+Matrena. “How glad it is to see you and thank you. If you only knew how
+I suffered in your absence, I who know how unjust my daughter was to
+you. But dear Natacha knows now what she owes you. She doesn’t doubt
+your word now, nor your clear intelligence, little angel. Michael
+Nikolaievitch was a monster and he was punished as he deserved. You know
+the police have proof now that he was one of the Central Revolutionary
+Committee’s most dangerous agents. And he an officer! Whom can we trust
+now!”
+
+“And Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, have you seen him since?” inquired
+Rouletabille.
+
+“Boris called to see us to-day, to say good-by, but we did not receive
+him, under the orders of the police. Natacha has written to tell him of
+Koupriane’s orders. We have received letters from him; he is quitting
+St. Petersburg.
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Well, after the frightful bloody scene in his little house, when he
+learned how Michael Nikolaievitch had found his death, and after he
+himself had undergone a severe grilling from the police, and when he
+learned the police had sacked his library and gone through his papers,
+he resigned, and has resolved to live from now on out in the country,
+without seeing anyone, like the philosopher and poet he is. So far as I
+am concerned, I think he is doing absolutely right. When a young man is
+a poet, it is useless to live like a soldier. Someone has said that,
+I don’t know the name now, and when one has ideas that may upset other
+people, surely they ought to live in solitude.”
+
+Rouletabille looked at Natacha, who was as pale as her white gown, and
+who added no word to her mother’s outburst. They had drawn near the
+kiosk. Rouletabille saluted the general, who called to him to come up
+and, when the young man extended his hand, he drew him abruptly nearer
+and embraced him. To show Rouletabille how active he was getting again,
+Feodor Feodorovitch marched up and down the kiosk with only the aid of a
+stick. He went and came with a sort of wild, furious gayety.
+
+“They haven’t got me yet, the dogs. They haven’t got me! And one (he was
+thinking of Michael) who saw me every day was here just for that. Very
+well. I ask you where he is now. And yet here I am! An attack! I’m
+always here! But with a good eye; and I begin to have a good leg. We
+shall see. Why, I recollect how, when I was at Tiflis, there was an
+insurrection in the Caucasus. We fought. Several times I could feel the
+swish of bullets past my hair. My comrades fell around me like flies.
+But nothing happened to me, not a thing. And here now! They will not get
+me, they will not get me. You know how they plan now to come to me, as
+living bombs. Yes, they have decided on that. I can’t press a friend’s
+hand any more without the fear of seeing him explode. What do you think
+of that? But they won’t get me. Come, drink my health. A small glass
+of vodka for an appetizer. You see, young man, we are going to have
+zakouskis here. What a marvelous panorama! You can see everything from
+here. If the enemy comes,” he added with a singular loud laugh, “we
+can’t fail to detect him.”
+
+Certainly the kiosk did rise high above the garden and was completely
+detached, no wall being near. They had a clear view. No branches of
+trees hung over the roof and no tree hid the view. The rustic table of
+rough wood was covered with a short cloth and was spread with zakouskis.
+It was a meal under the open sky, a seat and a glass in the clear azure.
+The evening could not have been softer and clearer. And, as the general
+felt so gay, the repast would have promised to be most agreeable, if
+Rouletabille had not noticed that Matrena Petrovna and Natacha were
+uneasy and downcast. The reporter soon saw, too, that all the general’s
+joviality was a little excessive. Anyone would have said that Feodor
+Feodorovitch spoke to distract himself, to keep himself from thinking.
+There was sufficient excuse for him after the outrageous drama of the
+other night. Rouletabille noticed further that the general never looked
+at his daughter, even when he spoke to her. There was too formidable
+a mystery lying between them for restraint not to increase day by day.
+Rouletabille involuntarily shook his head, saddened by all he saw. His
+movement was surprised by Matrena Petrovna, who pressed his hand in
+silence.
+
+“Well, now,” said the general, “well, now my children, where is the
+vodka?”
+
+Among all the bottles which graced the table the general looked in vain
+for his flask of vodka. How in the world could he dine if he did not
+prepare for that important act by the rapid absorption of two or
+three little glasses of white wine, between two or three sandwiches of
+caviare!
+
+“Ermolai must have left it in the wine-chest,” said Matrena.
+
+The wine-closet was in the dining-room. She rose to go there, but
+Natacha hurried before her down the little flight of steps, crying,
+“Stay there, mamma. I will go.”
+
+“Don’t you bother, either. I know where it is,” cried Rouletabille, and
+hurried after Natacha.
+
+She did not stop. The two young people arrived in the dining-room at
+the same time. They were there alone, as Rouletabille had foreseen. He
+stopped Natacha and planted himself in front of her.
+
+“Why, mademoiselle, did you not answer me earlier?”
+
+“Because I don’t wish to have any conversation with you.”
+
+“If that was so, you would not have come here, where you were sure I
+would follow.”
+
+She hesitated, with an emotion that would have been incomprehensible to
+all others perhaps, but was not to Rouletabille.
+
+“Well, yes, I wished to say this to you: Don’t write to me any more.
+Don’t speak to me. Don’t see me. Go away from here, monsieur; go away.
+They will have your life. And if you have found out anything, forget it.
+Ah, on the head of your mother, forget it, or you are lost. That is what
+I wished to tell you. And now, you go.”
+
+She grasped his hand in a quick sympathetic movement that she seemed
+instantly to regret.
+
+“You go away,” she repeated.
+
+Rouletabille still held his place before her. She turned from him; she
+did not wish to hear anything further.
+
+“Mademoiselle,” said he, “you are watched closer than ever. Who will
+take Michael Nikolaievitch’s place?”
+
+“Madman, be silent! Hush!”
+
+“I am here.”
+
+He said this with such simple bravery that tears sprang to her eyes.
+
+“Dear man! Poor man! Dear brave man!” She did not know what to say. Her
+emotion checked all utterance. But it was necessary for her to enable
+him to understand that there was nothing he could do to help her in her
+sad straits.
+
+“No. If they knew what you have just said, what you have proposed now,
+you would be dead to-morrow. Don’t let them suspect. And above all,
+don’t try to see me anywhere. Go back to papa at once. We have been here
+too long. What if they learn of it?--and they learn everything! They are
+everywhere, and have ears everywhere.”
+
+“Mademoiselle, just one word more, a single word. Do you doubt now that
+Michael tried to poison your father?”
+
+“Ah, I wish to believe it. I wish to. I wish to believe it for your
+sake, my poor boy.”
+
+Rouletabille desired something besides “I wish to believe it for your
+sake, my poor boy.” He was far from being satisfied. She saw him turn
+pale. She tried to reassure him while her trembling hands raised the lid
+of the wine-chest.
+
+“What makes me think you are right is that I have decided myself that
+only one and the same person, as you said, climbed to the window of the
+little balcony. Yes, no one can doubt that, and you have reasoned well.”
+
+But he persisted still.
+
+“And yet, in spite of that, you are not entirely sure, since you say, ‘I
+wish to believe it, my poor boy.’”
+
+“Monsieur Rouletabille, someone might have tried to poison my father,
+and not have come by way of the window.”
+
+“No, that is impossible.”
+
+“Nothing is impossible to them.”
+
+And she turned her head away again.
+
+“Why, why,” she said, with her voice entirely changed and quite
+indifferent, as if she wished to be merely ‘the daughter of the house’
+in conversation with the young man, “the vodka is not in the wine chest,
+after all. What has Ermolai done with it, then?”
+
+She ran over to the buffet and found the flask.
+
+“Oh, here it is. Papa shan’t be without it, after all.”
+
+Rouletabille was already into the garden again.
+
+“If that is the only doubt she has,” he said to himself, “I can reassure
+her. No one could come, excepting by the window. And only one came that
+way.”
+
+The young girl had rejoined him, bringing the flask. They crossed the
+garden together to the general, who was whiling away the time as he
+waited for his vodka explaining to Matrena Petrovna the nature of “the
+constitution.” He had spilt a box of matches on the table and arranged
+them carefully.
+
+“Here,” he cried to Natacha and Rouletabille. “Come here and I will
+explain to you as well what this Constitution amounts to.”
+
+The young people leaned over his demonstration curiously and all eyes in
+the kiosk were intent on the matches.
+
+“You see that match,” said Feodor Feodorovitch. “It is the Emperor. And
+this other match is the Empress; this one is the Tsarevitch; and that
+one is the Grand-duke Alexander; and these are the other granddukes.
+Now, here are the ministers and there the principal governors, and then
+the generals; these here are the bishops.”
+
+The whole box of matches was used up, and each match was in its place,
+as is the way in an empire where proper etiquette prevails in government
+and the social order.
+
+“Well,” continued the general, “do you want to know, Matrena Petrovna,
+what a constitution is? There! That is the Constitution.”
+
+The general, with a swoop of his hand, mixed all the matches.
+Rouletabille laughed, but the good Matrena said:
+
+“I don’t understand, Feodor.”
+
+“Find the Emperor now.”
+
+Then Matrena understood. She laughed heartily, she laughed violently,
+and Natacha laughed also. Delighted with his success, Feodor
+Feodorovitch took up one of the little glasses that Natacha had filled
+with the vodka she brought.
+
+“Listen, my children,” said he. “We are going to commence the zakouskis.
+Koupriane ought to have been here before this.”
+
+Saying this, holding still the little glass in his hand, he felt in his
+pocket with the other for his watch, and drew out a magnificent large
+watch whose ticking was easily heard.
+
+“Ah, the watch has come back from the repairer,” Rouletabille remarked
+smilingly to Matrena Petrovna. “It looks like a splendid one.”
+
+“It has very fine works,” said the general. “It was bequeathed to me by
+my grandfather. It marks the seconds, and the phases of the moon, and
+sounds the hours and half-hours.”
+
+Rouletabille bent over the watch, admiring it.
+
+“You expect M. Koupriane for dinner?” inquired the young man, still
+examining the watch.
+
+“Yes, but since he is so late, we’ll not delay any longer. Your healths,
+my children,” said the general as Rouletabille handed him back the watch
+and he put it in his pocket.
+
+“Your health, Feodor Feodorovitch,” replied Matrena Petrovna, with her
+usual tenderness.
+
+Rouletabille and Natacha only touched their lips to the vodka, but
+Feodor Feodorovitch and Matrena drank theirs in the Russian fashion,
+head back and all at a draught, draining it to the bottom and flinging
+the contents to the back of the throat. They had no more than performed
+this gesture when the general uttered an oath and tried to expel what he
+had drained so heartily. Matrena Petrovna spat violently also, looking
+with horror at her husband.
+
+“What is it? What has someone put in the vodka?” cried Feodor.
+
+“What has someone put in the vodka?” repeated Matrena Petrovna in a
+thick voice, her eyes almost starting from her head.
+
+The two young people threw themselves upon the unfortunates. Feodor’s
+face had an expression of atrocious suffering.
+
+“We are poisoned,” cried the general, in the midst of his chokings. “I
+am burning inside.”
+
+Almost mad, Natacha took her father’s head in her hands. She cried to
+him:
+
+“Vomit, papa; vomit!”
+
+“We must find an emetic,” cried Rouletabille, holding on to the general,
+who had almost slipped from his arms.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, whose gagging noises were violent, hurried down the
+steps of the kiosk, crossed the garden as though wild-fire were
+behind her, and bounded into the veranda. During this time the general
+succeeded in easing himself, thanks to Rouletabille, who had thrust a
+spoon to the root of his tongue. Natacha could do nothing but cry, “My
+God, my God, my God!” Feodor held onto his stomach, still crying, “I’m
+burning, I’m burning!” The scene was frightfully tragic and funny at the
+same time. To add to the burlesque, the general’s watch in his pocket
+struck eight o’clock. Feodor Feodorovitch stood up in a final supreme
+effort. “Oh, it is horrible!” Matrena Petrovna showed a red, almost
+violet face as she came back; she distorted it, she choked, her mouth
+twitched, but she brought something, a little packet that she waved, and
+from which, trembling frightenedly, she shook a powder into the first
+two empty glasses, which were on her side of the table and were those
+she and the general had drained. She still had strength to fill them
+with water, while Rouletabille was almost overcome by the general, whom
+he still had in his arms, and Natacha concerned herself with nothing
+but her father, leaning over him as though to follow the progress of
+the terrible poison, to read in his eyes if it was to be life or death.
+“Ipecac,” cried Matrena Petrovna, and she made the general drink it.
+She did not drink until after him. The heroic woman must have exerted
+superhuman force to go herself to find the saving antidote in her
+medicine-chest, even while the agony pervaded her vitals.
+
+Some minutes later both could be considered saved. The servants, Ermolai
+at their head, were clustered about. Most of them had been at the lodge
+and they had not, it appeared, heard the beginning of the affair, the
+cries of Natacha and Rouletabille. Koupriane arrived just then. It was
+he who worked with Natacha in getting the two to bed. Then he directed
+one of his agents to go for the nearest doctors they could find.
+
+This done, the Prefect of Police went toward the kiosk where he had left
+Rouletabille. But Rouletabille was not to be found, and the flask of
+vodka and the glasses from which they had drunk were gone also. Ermolai
+was near-by, and he inquired of the servant for the young Frenchman.
+Ermolai replied that he had just gone away, carrying the flask and the
+glasses. Koupriane swore. He shook Ermolai and even started to give him
+a blow with the fist for permitting such a thing to happen before his
+eyes without making a protest.
+
+Ermolai, who had his own haughtiness, dodged Koupriane’s fist and
+replied that he had wished to prevent the young Frenchman, but the
+reporter had shown him a police-paper on which Koupriane himself had
+declared in advance that the young Frenchman was to do anything he
+pleased.
+
+
+
+
+
+XII. PERE ALEXIS
+
+Koupriane jumped into his carriage and hurried toward St. Petersburg.
+On the way he spoke to three agents who only he knew were posted in
+the neighborhood of Eliaguine. They told him the route Rouletabille had
+taken. The reporter had certainly returned into the city. He hurried
+toward Troitski Bridge. There, at the corner of the Naberjnaia,
+Koupriane saw the reporter in a hired conveyance. Rouletabille was
+pounding his coachman in the back, Russian fashion, to make him go
+faster, and was calling with all his strength one of the few words he
+had had time to learn, “Naleva, naleva” (to the left). The driver was
+forced to understand at last, for there was no other way to turn than to
+the left. If he had turned to the right (naprava) he would have driven
+into the river. The conveyance clattered over the pointed flints of a
+neighborhood that led to a little street, Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, at
+the corner of the Katharine canal. This “alley of the pharmacists” as a
+matter of fact contained no pharmacists, but there was a curious sign
+of a herbarium, where Rouletabille made the driver stop. As the carriage
+rolled under the arch Rouletabille recognized Koupriane. He did not
+wait, but cried to him, “Ah, here you are. All right; follow me.” He
+still had the flask and the glasses in his hands. Koupriane couldn’t
+help noticing how strange he looked. He passed through a court with him,
+and into a squalid shop.
+
+“What,” said Koupriane, “do you know Pere Alexis?”
+
+They were in the midst of a curious litter. Clusters of dried herbs hung
+from the ceiling, and all among them were clumps of old boots, shriveled
+skins, battered pans, scrap-iron, sheep-skins, useless touloupes, and on
+the floor musty old clothes, moth-eaten furs, and sheep-skin coats that
+even a moujik of the swamps would not have deigned to wear. Here and
+there were old teeth, ragged finery, dilapidated hats, and jars of
+strange herbs ranged upon some rickety shelving. Between the set of
+scales on the counter and a heap of little blocks of wood used for
+figuring the accounts of this singular business were ungilded ikons,
+oxidized silver crosses, and Byzantine pictures representing scenes from
+the Old and New Testaments. Jars of alcohol with what seemed to be the
+skeletons of frogs swimming in them filled what space was left. In a
+corner of this large, murky room, under the vault of mossed stone, a
+small altar stood and the light burned in a hanging glass of oil before
+the holy images. A man was praying before the altar. He wore the costume
+of old Russia, the caftan of green cloth, buttoned at the shoulder and
+tucked in at the waist by a narrow belt. He had a bushy beard and his
+hair fell to his shoulders. When he had finished his prayer he rose,
+perceived Rouletabille and came over to take his hand. He spoke French
+to the reporter:
+
+“Well, here you are again, lad. Do you bring poison again to-day? This
+will end by being found out, and the police...”
+
+Just then he discerned Koupriane’s form in the shadow, drew close
+to make out who it was, and fell to his knees as he saw who it was.
+Rouletabille tried to raise him, but he insisted on prostrating himself.
+He was sure the Prefect of Police had come to his house to hang him.
+Finally he was reassured by Rouletabille’s positive assertions and the
+great chief’s robust laugh. The Prefect wished to know how the young man
+came to be acquainted with the “alchemist” of the police. Rouletabille
+told him in a few words.
+
+Maitre Alexis, in his youth, went to France afoot, to study pharmacy,
+because of his enthusiasm for chemistry. But he always remained
+countrified, very much a Russian peasant, a semi-Oriental bear, and did
+not achieve his degree. He took some certificates, but the examinations
+were too much for him. For fifty years he lived miserably as a
+pharmacist’s assistant in the back of a disreputable shop in the Notre
+Dame quarter. The proprietor of the place was implicated in the famous
+affair of the gold ingots, which started Rouletabille’s reputation, and
+was arrested along with his assistant, Alexis. It was Rouletabille who
+proved, clear as day, that poor Alexis was innocent, and that he had
+never been cognizant of his master’s evil ways, being absorbed in the
+depths of his laboratory in trying to work out a naive alchemy which
+fascinated him, though the world of chemistry had passed it by centuries
+ago. At the trial Alexis was acquitted, but found himself in the street.
+He shed what tears remained in his body upon the neck of the reporter,
+assuring him of paradise if he got him back to his own country, because
+he desired only the one thing more of life, that he might see his
+birth-land before he died. Rouletabille advanced the necessary means
+and sent him to St. Petersburg. There he was picked up at the end of two
+days by the police, in a petty gambling-game, and thrown into prison,
+where he promptly had a chance to show his talents. He cured some of his
+companions in misery, and even some of the guards. A guard who had an
+injured leg, whose healing he had despaired of, was cured by Alexis.
+Then there was found to be no actual charge against him. They set him
+free and, moreover, they interested themselves in him. They found meager
+employment for him in the Stchoukine-dvor, an immense popular bazaar.
+He accumulated a few roubles and installed himself on his own account
+at the back of a court in the Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he gradually
+piled up a heap of old odds and ends that no one wanted even in the
+Stchoukine-dvor. But he was happy, because behind his shop he had
+installed a little laboratory where he continued for his pleasure his
+experiments in alchemy and his study of plants. He still proposed to
+write a book that he had already spoken of in France to Rouletabille, to
+prove the truth of “Empiric Treatment of Medicinal Herbs, the Science
+of Alchemy, and the Ancient Experiments in Sorcery.” Between times
+he continued to cure anyone who applied to him, and the police in
+particular. The police guards protected him and used him. He had
+splendid plasters for them after “the scandal,” as they called the
+October riots. So when the doctors of the quarter tried to prosecute him
+for illegal practice, a deputation of police-guards went to Koupriane,
+who took the responsibility and discontinued proceedings against him.
+They regarded him as under protection of the saints, and Alexis soon
+came to be regarded himself as something of a holy man. He never failed
+every Christmas and Easter to send his finest images to Rouletabille,
+wishing him all prosperity and saying that if ever he came to St.
+Petersburg he should be happy to receive him at Aptiekarski-Pereoulok,
+where he was established in honest labor. Pere Alexis, like all the true
+saints, was a modest man.
+
+When Alexis had recovered a little from his emotion Rouletabille said to
+him:
+
+“Pere Alexis, I do bring you poison again, but you have nothing to fear,
+for His Excellency the Chief of Police is with me. Here is what we want
+you to do. You must tell us what poison these four glasses have held,
+and what poison is still in this flask and this little phial.”
+
+“What is that little phial?” demanded Koupriane, as he saw Rouletabille
+pull a small, stoppered bottle out of his pocket.
+
+The reporter replied, “I have put into this bottle the vodka that was
+poured into Natacha’s glass and mine and that we barely touched.”
+
+“Someone has tried to poison you!” exclaimed Pere Alexis.
+
+“No, not me,” replied Rouletabille, in bored fashion. “Don’t think about
+that. Simply do what I tell you. Then analyze these two napkins, as
+well.”
+
+And he drew from his coat two soiled napkins.
+
+“Well,” said Koupriane, “you have thought of everything.”
+
+“They are the napkins the general and his wife used.”
+
+“Yes, yes, I understand that,” said the Chief of Police.
+
+“And you, Alexis, do you understand?” asked the reporter. “When can we
+have the result of your analysis?
+
+“In an hour, at the latest.”
+
+“Very well,” said Koupriane. “Now I need not tell you to hold your
+tongue. I am going to leave one of my men here. You will write us a
+note that you will seal, and he will bring it to head-quarters. Sure you
+understand? In an hour?”
+
+“In an hour, Excellency.”
+
+They went out, and Alexis followed them, bowing to the floor. Koupriane
+had Rouletabille get into his carriage. The young man did as he was
+told. One would have said he did not know where he was or what he did.
+He made no reply to the chief’s questions.
+
+“This Pere Alexander,” resumed Koupriane, “is a character, really quite
+a figure. And a bit of a schemer, I should say. He has seen how Father
+John of Cronstadt succeeded, and he says to himself, ‘Since the sailors
+had their Father John of Cronstadt, why shouldn’t the police-guard have
+their Father Alexis of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok?’”
+
+But Rouletabille did not reply at all, and Koupriane wound up by
+demanding what was the matter with him.
+
+“The matter is,” replied Rouletabille, unable longer to conceal his
+anguish, “that the poison continues.”
+
+“Does that astonish you?” returned Koupriane. “It doesn’t me.”
+
+Rouletabille looked at him and shook his head. His lips trembled as he
+said, “I know what you think. It is abominable. But the thing I have
+done certainly is more abominable still.”
+
+“What have you done, then, Monsieur Rouletabille?”
+
+“Perhaps I have caused the death of an innocent man.”
+
+“So long as you aren’t sure of it, you would better not fret about it,
+my dear friend.”
+
+“It is enough that the doubt has arisen,” said the reporter, “almost
+to kill me;” and he heaved so gloomy a sigh that the excellent Monsieur
+Koupriane felt pity for the lad. He tapped him on the knee.
+
+“Come, come, young man, you ought to know one thing by this time--‘you
+can’t make omelettes without breaking eggs,’ as they say, I think, in
+Paris.”
+
+Rouletabille turned away from him with horror in his heart. If there
+should be another, someone besides Michael! If it was another hand than
+his that appeared to Matrena and him in the mysterious night! If Michael
+Nikolaievitch had been innocent! Well, he would kill himself, that was
+all. And those horrible words that he had exchanged with Natacha rose in
+his memory, singing in his ears as though they would deafen him.
+
+“Do you doubt still?” he had asked her, “that Michael tried to poison
+your father?”
+
+And Natacha had replied, “I wish to believe it! I wish to believe it,
+for your sake, my poor boy.” And then he recalled her other words, still
+more frightful now! “Couldn’t someone have tried to poison my father
+and not have come by the window?” He had faced such a hypothesis with
+assurance then--but now, now that the poison continued, continued within
+the house, where he believed himself so fully aware of all people and
+things--continued now that Michael Nikolaievitch was dead--ah, where did
+it come from, this poison?--and what was it? Pere Alexis would hurry his
+analysis if he had any regard for poor Rouletabille.
+
+For Rouletabille to doubt, and in an affair where already there was one
+man dead through his agency, was torment worse than death.
+
+When they arrived at police-headquarters, Rouletabille jumped from
+Koupriane’s carriage and without saying a word hailed an empty
+isvotchick that was passing. He had himself driven back to Pere Alexis.
+His doubt mastered his will; he could not bear to wait away. Under the
+arch of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok he saw once more the man Koupriane had
+placed there with the order to bring him Alexis’s message. The man
+looked at him in astonishment. Rouletabille crossed the court and
+entered the dingy old room once more. Pere Alexis was not there,
+naturally, engaged as he was in his laboratory. But a person whom he did
+not recognize at first sight attracted the reporter’s attention. In the
+half-light of the shop a melancholy shadow leaned over the ikons on the
+counter. It was only when he straightened up, with a deep sigh, and a
+little light, deflected and yellow from passing through window-panes
+that had known no touch of cleaning since they were placed there, fell
+faintly on the face, that Rouletabille ascertained he was face to face
+with Boris Mourazoff. It was indeed he, the erstwhile brilliant officer
+whose elegance and charm the reporter had admired as he saw him at
+beautiful Natacha’s feet in the datcha at Eliaguine. Now, no more in
+uniform, he had thrown over his bowed shoulders a wretched coat, whose
+sleeves swayed listlessly at his sides, in accord with his mood of
+languid desperation, a felt hat with the rim turned down hid a little
+the misery in his face in these few days, these not-many hours, how he
+was changed! But, even as he was, he still concerned Rouletabille. What
+was he doing there? Was he not going to go away, perhaps? He had picked
+up an ikon from the counter and carried it over to the window to examine
+its oxidized silver, giving such close attention to it that the reporter
+hoped he might reach the door of the laboratory without being noticed.
+He already had his hand on the knob of that door, which was behind the
+counter, when he heard his name called.
+
+“It is you, Monsieur Rouletabille,” said the low, sad voice of Boris.
+“What has brought you here, then?”
+
+“Well, well, Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, unless I’m mistaken? I certainly
+didn’t expect to find you here in Pere Alexis’s place.”
+
+“Why not, Monsieur Rouletabille? One can find anything here in Pere
+Alexis’s stock. See; here are two old ikons in wood, carved with
+sculptures, which came direct from Athos, and can’t be equaled, I assure
+you, either at Gastini-Dvor nor even at Stchoukine-Dvor.”
+
+“Yes, yes, that is possible,” said Rouletabille, impatiently. “Are you
+an amateur of such things?” he added, in order to say something.
+
+“Oh, like anybody else. But I was going to tell you, Monsieur
+Rouletabille, I have resigned my commission. I have resolved to retire
+from the world; I am going on a long voyage.” (Rouletabille thought:
+‘Why not have gone at once?’) “And before going, I have come here to
+supply myself with some little gifts to send those of my friends I
+particularly care for, although now, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille, I
+don’t care much for anything.”
+
+“You look desolate enough, monsieur.”
+
+Boris sighed like a child.
+
+“How could it be otherwise?” he said. “I loved and believed myself
+beloved. But it proved to be--nothing, alas!”
+
+“Sometimes one only imagines things,” said Rouletabille, keeping his
+hand on the door.
+
+“Oh, yes,” said the other, growing more and more melancholy. “So a man
+suffers. He is his own tormentor; he himself makes the wheel on which,
+like his own executioner, he binds himself.”
+
+“It is not necessary, monsieur; it is not necessary,” counseled the
+reporter.
+
+“Listen,” implored Boris in a voice that showed tears were not far away.
+“You are still a child, but still you can see things. Do you believe
+Natacha loves me?”
+
+“I am sure of it, Monsieur Boris; I am sure of it.”
+
+“I am sure of it, too. But I don’t know what to think now. She has let
+me go, without trying to detain me, without a word of hope.”
+
+“And where are you going like that?”
+
+“I am returning to the Orel country, where I first saw her.”
+
+“That is good, very good, Monsieur Boris. At least there you are sure
+to see her again. She goes there every year with her parents for a few
+weeks. It is a detail you haven’t overlooked, doubtless.”
+
+“Certainly I haven’t. I will tell you that that prospect decided my
+place of retreat.”
+
+“See!”
+
+“God gives me nothing, but He opens His treasures, and each takes what
+he can.”
+
+“Yes, yes; and Mademoiselle Natacha, does she know it is to Orel you
+have decided to retire?”
+
+“I have no reason for concealing it from her, Monsieur Rouletabille.”
+
+“So far so good. You needn’t feel so desolate, my dear Monsieur Boris.
+All is not lost. I will say even that I see a future for you full of
+hope.”
+
+“Ah, if you are able to say that truthfully, I am happy indeed to have
+met you. I will never forget this rope you have flung me when all the
+waters seemed closing over my head. ‘What do you advise, then?”
+
+“I advise you to go to Orel, monsieur, and as quickly as possible.”
+
+“Very well. You must have reasons for saying that. I obey you, monsieur,
+and go.”
+
+As Boris started towards the entrance-arch, Rouletabille slipped into
+the laboratory. Old Alexis was bent over his retorts. A wretched lamp
+barely lighted his obscure work. He turned at the noise the reporter
+made.
+
+“Ah!-you, lad!”
+
+“‘Well?”
+
+“Oh, nothing so quick. Still, I have already analyzed the two napkins,
+you know.”
+
+“Yes? The stains? Tell me, for the love of God!”
+
+“Well, my boy, it is arsenate of soda again.”
+
+Rouletabille, stricken to the heart, uttered a low cry and everything
+seemed to dance around him. Pere Alexis in the midst of all the strange
+laboratory instruments seemed Satan himself, and he repulsed the kindly
+arms stretched forth to sustain him; in the gloom, where danced here and
+there the little blue flames from the crucibles, lively as flickering
+tongues, he believed he saw Michael Nikolaievitch’s ghost come to cry,
+“The arsenate of soda continues, and I am dead.” He fell against the
+door, which swung open, and he rolled as far as the counter, and struck
+his face against it. The shock, that might well have been fatal, brought
+him out of his intense nightmare and made him instantly himself again.
+He rose, jumped over the heap of boots and fol-de-rols, and leaped to
+the court. There Boris grabbed him by his coat. Rouletabille turned,
+furious:
+
+“What do you want? You haven’t started for the Orel yet?”
+
+“Monsieur, I am going, but I will be very grateful if you will take
+these things yourself to--to Natacha.” He showed him, still with
+despairing mien, the two ikons from Mount Athos, and Rouletabille took
+them from him, thrust them in his pocket, and hurried on, crying, “I
+understand.”
+
+Outside, Rouletabille tried to get hold of himself, to recover his
+coolness a little. Was it possible that he had made a mortal error?
+Alas, alas, how could he doubt it now! The arsenate of soda continued.
+He made a superhuman effort to ward off the horror of that, even
+momentarily--the death of innocent Michael Nikolaievitch--and to think
+of nothing except the immediate consequences, which must be carefully
+considered if he wished to avoid some new catastrophe. Ah, the assassin
+was not discouraged. And that time, what a piece of work he had tried!
+What a hecatomb if he had succeeded! The general, Matrena Petrovna,
+Natacha and Rouletabille himself (who almost regretted, so far as he
+was concerned, that it had not succeeded)--and Koupriane! Koupriane, who
+should have been there for luncheon. What a bag for the Nihilists!
+That was it, that was it. Rouletabille understood now why they had not
+hesitated to poison everybody at once: Koupriane was among them.
+
+Michael Nikolaievitch would have been avenged!
+
+The attempt had failed this time, but what might they not expect now!
+From the moment he believed Michael Nikolaievitch no longer guilty, as
+he had imagined, Rouletabille fell into a bottomless abyss.
+
+Where should he go? After a few moments he made the circuit of the
+Rotunda, which serves as the market for this quarter and is the finest
+ornament of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok. He made the circuit without knowing
+it, without stopping for anything, without seeing or understanding
+anything. As a broken-winded horse makes its way in the treadmill, so he
+walked around with the thought that he also was lost in a treadmill that
+led him nowhere. Rouletabille was no longer Rouletabille.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII. THE LIVING BOMBS
+
+At random--because now he could only act at random--he returned to the
+datcha. Great disorder reigned there. The guard had been doubled. The
+general’s friends, summoned by Trebassof, surrounded the two poisoned
+sufferers and filled the house with their bustling devotion and their
+protestations of affection. However, an insignificant doctor from the
+common quarter of the Vasili-Ostrow, brought by the police, reassured
+everybody. The police had not found the general’s household physician at
+home, but promised the immediate arrival of two specialists, whom they
+had found instead. In the meantime they had picked up on the way this
+little doctor, who was gay and talkative as a magpie. He had enough
+to do looking after Matrena Petrovna, who had been so sick that her
+husband, Feodor Feodorovitch, still trembled, “for the first time in his
+life,” as the excellent Ivan Petrovitch said.
+
+The reporter was astonished at not finding Natacha either in Matrena’s
+apartment or Feodor’s. He asked Matrena where her step-daughter was.
+Matrena turned a frightened face toward him. When they were alone, she
+said:
+
+“We do not know where she is. Almost as soon as you left she
+disappeared, and no one has seen her since. The general has asked for
+her several times. I have had to tell him Koupriane took her with him to
+learn the details from her of what happened.”
+
+“She is not with Koupriane,” said Rouletabille.
+
+“Where is she? This disappearance is more than strange at the moment we
+were dying, when her father--O God! Leave me, my child; I am stifling; I
+am stifling.”
+
+Rouletabille called the temporary doctor and withdrew from the chamber.
+He had come with the idea of inspecting the house room by room, corner
+by corner, to make sure whether or not any possibility of entrance
+existed that he had not noticed before, an entrance would-be poisoners
+were continuing to use. But now a new fact confronted him and
+overshadowed everything: the disappearance of Natacha. How he lamented
+his ignorance of the Russian language--and not one of Koupriane’s men
+knew French. He might draw something out of Ermolai.
+
+Ermolai said he had seen Natacha just outside the gate for a moment,
+looking up and down the road. Then he had been called to the general,
+and so knew nothing further.
+
+That was all the reporter could gather from the gestures rather than the
+words of the old servant.
+
+An additional difficulty now was that twilight drew on, and it was
+impossible for the reporter to discern Natacha’s foot-prints. Was it
+true that the young girl had fled at such a moment, immediately after
+the poisoning, before she knew whether her father and mother were
+entirely out of danger? If Natacha were innocent, as Rouletabille still
+wished to believe, such an attitude was simply incomprehensible. And the
+girl could not but be aware she would increase Koupriane’s suspicions.
+The reporter had a vital reason for seeing her immediately, a vital
+reason for all concerned, above all in this moment when the Nihilists
+were culminating their plans, a vital reason for her and for him,
+equally menaced with death, to talk with her and to renew the
+propositions he had made a few minutes before the poisoning and which
+she had not wished to hear him talk about, in fearful pity for him or in
+defiance of him. Where was Natacha? He thought maybe she was trying
+to rejoin Annouchka, and there were reasons for that, both if she were
+innocent and if she were guilty. But where was Annouchka? Who could say!
+Gounsovski perhaps. Rouletabille jumped into an isvo, returning from the
+Point empty, and gave Gounsovski’s address. He deigned then to recall
+that he had been invited that same day to dine with the Gounsovskis.
+They would no longer be expecting him. He blamed himself.
+
+They received him, but they had long since finished dinner.
+
+Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski were playing a game of draughts under
+the lamp. Rouletabille as he entered the drawing-room recognized the
+shining, fattish bald head of the terrible man. Gounsovski came to him,
+bowing, obsequious, his fat hands held out. He was presented to Madame
+Gounsovski, who was besprinkled with jewels over her black silk gown.
+She had a muddy skin and magnificent eyes. She also was tentatively
+effusive. “We waited for you, monsieur,” she said, smirking timidly,
+with the careful charm of a woman a little along in years who relies
+still on infantine graces. As the recreant young man offered his
+apologies, “Oh, we know you are much occupied, Monsieur Rouletabille.
+My husband said that to me only a moment ago. But he knew you would come
+finally. In the end one always accepts my husband’s invitation.” She
+said this with a fat smile of importance.
+
+Rouletabille turned cold at this last phrase. He felt actual fear in
+the presence of these two figures, so atrociously commonplace, in their
+horrible, decent little drawing-room.
+
+Madame continued:
+
+“But you have had rather a bad dinner already, through that dreadful
+affair at General Trebassof’s. Come into the dining-room.” “Ah, so
+someone has told you?” said Rouletabille. “No, no, thanks; I don’t need
+anything more. You know what has happened?”
+
+“If you had come to dinner, perhaps nothing would have happened at all,
+you know,” said Gounsovski tranquilly, seating himself again on the
+cushions and considering his game of draughts through his glasses.
+“Anyway, congratulations to Koupriane for being away from there through
+his fear.”
+
+For Gounsovski there was only Koupriane! The life or death of Trebassof
+did not occupy his mind. Only the acts and movements of the Prefect of
+Police had power to move him. He ordered a waiting-maid who glided into
+the apartment without making more noise than a shadow to bring a small
+stand loaded with zakouskis and bottles of champagne close to the
+game-table, and he moved one of his pawns, saying, “You will permit me?
+This move is mine. I don’t wish to lose it.”
+
+Rouletabille ventured to lay his hand on the oily, hairy fist which
+extended from a dubious cuff.
+
+“What is this you tell me? How could you have foreseen it?”
+
+“It was easy to foresee everything,” replied Gounsovski, offering
+cigars, “to foresee everything from the moment Matiew’s place was filled
+by Priemkof.”
+
+“Well?” questioned Rouletabille, recalling with some inquietude the
+sight of the whipping in the guards’ chapel.
+
+“Well, this Priemkof, between ourselves,” (and he bent close to the
+reporter’s ear) “is no better, as a police-guard for Koupriane than
+Matiew himself. Very dangerous. So when I learned that he took Matiew’s
+place at the datcha des Iles, I thought there was sure to be some
+unfortunate happening. But it was no affair of mine, was it? Koupriane
+would have been able to say to me, ‘Mind your own business.’ I had gone
+far enough in warning him of the ‘living bombs.’ They had been denounced
+to us by the same agency that enabled us to seize the two living bombs
+(women, if you please!) who were going to the military tribunal at
+Cronstadt after the rebellion in the fleet. Let him recall that. That
+ought to make him reflect. I am a brave man. I know he speaks ill of me;
+but I don’t wish him any harm. The interests of the Empire before all
+else between us! I wouldn’t talk to you as I do if I didn’t know the
+Tsar honors you with his favor. Then I invited you to dinner. As one
+dines one talks. But you did not come. And, while you were dining down
+there and while Priemkof was on guard at the datcha, that annoying
+affair Madame Gounsovski has spoken about happened.”
+
+Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski’s
+insistences. He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand of the
+Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering them, for this
+detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which had been dark enough
+for hours and was now deepened by what the other had just said. He
+comprehended only one thing, that a man named Priemkof, whom he had
+never heard spoken of, as determined as Matiew to destroy the general,
+had been entrusted by Koupriane with the guard of the datcha des Iles.
+It was necessary to warn Koupriane instantly.
+
+“How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur
+Gounsovski? Why wait to speak about it to me? It is unimaginable.”
+
+“Pardon, pardon,” said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his goggles;
+“it is not the same thing.”
+
+“No, no, it is not the same thing,” seconded the lady with the black
+silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin. “We speak here to a friend in
+the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the police. We
+never denounce anybody.”
+
+“We must tell you. But sit down now,” Gounsovski still insisted,
+lighting his cigar. “Be reasonable. They have just tried to poison him,
+so they will take time to breathe before they try something else. Then,
+too, this poison makes me think they may have given up the idea of
+living bombs. Then, after all, what is to be will be.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” approved the ample dame. “The police never have been able
+to prevent what was bound to happen. But, speaking of this Priemkof, it
+remains between us, eh? Between just us?”
+
+“Yes, we must tell you now,” Gounsovski slipped in softly, “that it will
+be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the information
+from me. Because then, you understand, he would not believe you; or,
+rather, he would not believe me. That is why we take these precautions
+of dining and smoking a cigar. We speak of one thing and another and
+you do as you please with what we say. But, to make them useful, it is
+absolutely necessary, I repeat, to be silent about their source.” (As
+he said that, Gounsovski gave Rouletabille a piercing glance through his
+goggles, the first time Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes.
+He never would have suspected him capable of such fire.) “Priemkof,”
+ continued Gounsovski in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously,
+“was employed here in my home and we separated on bad terms, through his
+fault, it is necessary to say. Then he got into Koupriane’s confidence
+by saying the worst he could of us, my dear little monsieur.”
+
+“But what could he say?--servants’ stories! my dear little monsieur,”
+ repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent black eyes
+furiously. “Stories that have been treated as they deserved at Court,
+certainly. Madame Daquin, the wife of His Majesty’s head-cook, whom
+you certainly know, and the nephew of the second Maid of Honor to the
+Empress, who stands very well with his aunt, have told us so; servants’
+stories that might have ruined us but have not produced any effect on
+His Majesty, for whom we would give our lives, Christ knows. Well,
+you understand now that if you were to say to Koupriane, ‘Gaspadine
+Gounsovski has spoken ill to me of Priemkof,’ he would not care to hear
+a word further. Still, Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs,
+that is all I can tell you; at least, he was before the affair of the
+poisoning. That poisoning is certainly very astonishing, between us. It
+does not appear to have come from without, whereas the living bombs will
+have to come from without. And Priemkof is mixed up in it.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” approved Madame Gounsovski again, “he is committed to it.
+There have been stories about him, too. Other people as well as he can
+tell tales; it isn’t hard to do. He has got to make some showing now if
+he is to keep in with Annouchka’s clique.”
+
+“Koupriane, our dear Koupriane,” interrupted Gounsovski, slightly
+troubled at hearing his wife pronounce Annouchka’s name, “Koupriane
+ought to be able to understand that this time Priemkof must bring things
+off, or he is definitely ruined.”
+
+“Priemkof knows it well enough,” replied Madame as she re-filled the
+glasses, “but Koupriane doesn’t know it; that is all we can tell you. Is
+it enough? All the rest is mere gossip.”
+
+It certainly was enough for Rouletabille; he had had enough of it! This
+idle gossip and these living bombs! These pinchbecks, these
+whispering tale-tellers in their bourgeois, countrified setting; these
+politico-police combinations whose grotesque side was always uppermost;
+while the terrible side, the Siberian aspect, prisons, black holes,
+hangings, disappearances, exiles and deaths and martyrdoms remained
+so jealously hidden that no one ever spoke of them! All that weight of
+horror, between a good cigar and “a little glass of anisette, monsieur,
+if you won’t take champagne.” Still, he had to drink before he
+left, touch glasses in a health, promise to come again, whenever he
+wished--the house was open to him. Rouletabille knew it was open to
+anybody--anybody who had a tale to tell, something that would send
+some other person to prison or to death and oblivion. No guard at the
+entrance to check a visitor--men entered Gounsovski’s house as the house
+of a friend, and he was always ready to do you a service, certainly!
+
+He accompanied the reporter to the stairs. Rouletabille was just about
+to risk speaking of Annouchka to him, in order to approach the subject
+of Natacha, when Gounsovski said suddenly, with a singular smile:
+
+“By the way, do you still believe in Natacha Trebassof?”
+
+“I shall believe in her until my death,” Rouletabille thrust back; “but
+I admit to you that at this moment I don’t know where she has gone.”
+
+“Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and come to tell me to-morrow if you will
+believe in her always,” replied Gounsovski, confidentially, with a
+horrid sort of laugh that made the reporter hurry down the stairs.
+
+And now here was Priemkof to look after! Priemkof after Matiew!
+It seemed to the young man that he had to contend against all the
+revolutionaries not only, but all the Russian police as well--and
+Gounsovski himself, and Koupriane! Everybody, everybody! But most
+urgent was Priemkof and his living bombs. What a strange and almost
+incomprehensible and harassing adventure this was between Nihilism and
+the Russian police. Koupriane and Gounsovski both employed a man they
+knew to be a revolutionary and the friend of revolutionaries. Nihilism,
+on its side, considered this man of the police force as one of its
+own agents. In his turn, this man, in order to maintain his perilous
+equilibrium, had to do work for both the police and the revolutionaries,
+and accept whatever either gave him to do as it came, because it
+was necessary he should give them assurances of his fidelity. Only
+imbeciles, like Gapone, let themselves be hanged or ended by being
+executed, like Azef, because of their awkward slips. But a Priemkof,
+playing both branches of the police, had a good chance of living a long
+time, and a Gounsovski would die tranquilly in his bed with all the
+solaces of religion.
+
+However, the young hearts hot with sincerity, sheathed with dynamite,
+are mysteriously moved in the atrocious darkness of Holy Russia, and
+they do not know where they will be sent, and it is all one to them,
+because all they ask is to die in a mad spiritual delirium of hate
+and love--living bombs!*
+
+     * In the trial after the revolt at Cronstadt two young women
+     were charged with wearing bombs as false bosoms.
+
+At the corner of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok Rouletabille came in the way
+of Koupriane, who was leaving for Pere Alexis’s place and, seeing the
+reporter, stopped his carriage and called that he was going immediately
+to the datcha.
+
+“You have seen Pere Alexis?”
+
+“Yes,” said Koupriane. “And this time I have it on you. What I told you,
+what I foresaw, has happened. But have you any news of the sufferers?
+Apropos, rather a curious thing has happened. I met Kister on the Nevsky
+just now.”
+
+“The physician?”
+
+“Yes, one of Trebassof’s physicians whom I had sent an inspector to his
+house to fetch to the datcha, as well as his usual associate, Doctor
+Litchkof. Well, neither Litchkof nor he had been summoned. They
+didn’t know anything had happened at the datcha. They had not seen my
+inspector. I hope he has met some other doctor on the way and, in view
+of the urgency, has taken him to the datcha.”
+
+“That is what has happened,” replied Rouletabille, who had turned very
+pale. “Still, it is strange these gentlemen had not been notified,
+because at the datcha the Trebassofs were told that the general’s usual
+doctors were not at home and so the police had summoned two others who
+would arrive at once.”
+
+Koupriane jumped up in the carriage.
+
+“But Kister and Litchkof had not left their houses. Kister, who had just
+met Litchkof, said so. What does this mean?”
+
+“Can you tell me,” asked Rouletabille, ready now for the thunder-clap
+that his question invited, “the name of the inspector you ordered to
+bring them?”
+
+“Priemkof, a man with my entire confidence.”
+
+Koupriane’s carriage rushed toward the Isles. Late evening had come.
+Alone on the deserted route the horses seemed headed for the stars; the
+carriage behind seemed no drag upon them. The coachman bent above them,
+arms out, as though he would spring into the ether. Ah, the beautiful
+night, the lovely, peaceful night beside the Neva, marred by the wild
+gallop of these maddened horses!
+
+“Priemkof! Priemkof! One of Gounsovski’s men! I should have suspected
+him,” railed Koupriane after Rouletabille’s explanations. “But now,
+shall we arrive in time?”
+
+They stood up in the carriage, urging the coachman, exciting the horses:
+“Scan! Scan! Faster, douriak!” Could they arrive before the “living
+bombs”? Could they hear them before they arrived? Ah, there was
+Eliaguine!
+
+They rushed from the one bank to the other as though there were no
+bridges in their insensate course. And their ears were strained for the
+explosion, for the abomination now to come, preparing slyly in the night
+so hypocritically soft under the cold glance of the stars. Suddenly,
+“Stop, stop!” Rouletabille cried to the coachman.
+
+“Are you mad!” shouted Koupriane.
+
+“We are mad if we arrive like madmen. That would make the catastrophe
+sure. There is still a chance. If we wish not to lose it, then we must
+arrive easily and calmly, like friends who know the general is out of
+danger.”
+
+“Our only chance is to arrive before the bogus doctors. Either they
+aren’t there, or it already is all over. Priemkof must have been
+surprised at the affair of the poisoning, but he has seized the
+opportunity; fortunately he couldn’t find his accomplices immediately.”
+
+“Here is the datcha, anyway. In the name of heaven, tell your driver to
+stop the horses here. If the ‘doctors’ are already there it is we who
+shall have killed the general.”
+
+“You are right.”
+
+Koupriane moderated his excitement and that of his driver and horses,
+and the carriage stopped noiselessly, not far from the datcha. Ermolai
+came toward them.
+
+“Priemkof?” faltered Koupriane.
+
+“He has gone again, Excellency.”
+
+“How--gone again?”
+
+“Yes, but he has brought the doctors.”
+
+Koupriane crushed Rouletabille’s wrist. The doctors were there!
+
+“Madame Trebassof is better,” continued Ermolai, who understood nothing
+of their emotion. “The general is going to meet them and take them to
+his wife himself.”
+
+“Where are they?”
+
+“They are waiting in the drawing-room.”
+
+“Oh, Excellency, keep cool, keep cool, and all is not lost,” implored
+the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille and Koupriane slipped carefully into the garden. Ermolai
+followed them.
+
+“There?” inquired Koupriane.
+
+“There,” Ermolai replied.
+
+From the corner where they were, and looking through the veranda, they
+could see the “doctors” as they waited.
+
+They were seated in chairs side by side, in a corner of the drawing-room
+from where they could see every-thing in the room and a part of the
+garden, which they faced, and could hear everything. A window of the
+first-floor was open above their heads, so that they could hear any
+noise from there. They could not be surprised from any side, and they
+held every door in view. They were talking softly and tranquilly,
+looking straight before them. They appeared young. One had a pleasant
+face, pale but smiling, with rather long, curly hair; the other was more
+angular, with haughty bearing and grave face, an eagle nose and glasses.
+Both wore long black coats buttoned over their calm chests.
+
+Koupriane and the reporter, followed by Ermolai, advanced with the
+greatest precaution across the lawn. Screened by the wooden steps
+leading to the veranda and by the vine-clad balustrade, they got near
+enough to hear them. Koupriane gave eager ear to the words of these two
+young men, who might have been so rich in the many years of life that
+naturally belonged to them, and who were about to die so horrible a
+death in destroying all about them. They spoke of what time it was, of
+the softness of the night and the beauty of the sky; they spoke of the
+shadows under the birch-trees, of the gulf shining in the late evening’s
+fading golden light, of the river’s freshness and the sweetness of
+springtime in the North. That is what they talked about. Koupriane
+murmured, “The assassins!”
+
+Now it was necessary to decide on action, and that necessity was
+horrible. A false movement, an awkwardness, and the “doctors” would be
+warned, and everything lost. They must have the bombs under their coats;
+there were certainly at least two “living bombs.” Their chests, as
+they breathed, must heave to and fro and their hearts beat against an
+impending explosion.
+
+Above on the bedroom floor, they heard the rapid arranging of the room,
+steps on the floor and a confusion of voices; shadows passed across the
+window-space. Koupriane rapidly interrogated Ermolai and learned that
+all the general’s friends were there. The two doctors had arrived only
+a couple of minutes before the Prefect of Police and the reporter.
+The little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow had already gone, saying there was
+nothing more for him to do when two such celebrated specialists had
+arrived. However, in spite of their celebrity, no one had ever heard the
+names they gave. Koupriane believed the little doctor was an accomplice.
+The most necessary thing was to warn those in the room above. There was
+immediate danger that someone would come downstairs to find the doctors
+and take them to the general, or that the general would come down
+himself to meet them. Evidently that was what they were waiting for.
+They wished to die in his arms, to make sure that this time he did not
+escape them! Koupriane directed Ermolai to go into the veranda and speak
+in a commonplace way to them at the threshold of the drawing-room door,
+saying that he would go upstairs and see if he might now escort them
+to Madame Trebassof’s room. Once in the room above, he could warn the
+others not to do anything but wait for Koupriane; then Ermolai was to
+come down and say to the men, “In just a moment, if you please.”
+
+Ermolai crept back as far as the lodge, and then came quite normally up
+the path, letting the gravel crunch under his countrified footsteps.
+He was an intelligent man, and grasped with extraordinary coolness the
+importance of the plan of campaign. Easily and naturally he mounted the
+veranda steps, paused at the threshold of the drawing-room, made the
+remark he had been told to make, and went upstairs. Koupriane and
+Rouletabille now watched the bedroom windows. The flitting shadows there
+suddenly became motionless. All moving about ceased; no more steps were
+heard, nothing. And that sudden silence made the two “doctors” raise
+their faces toward the ceiling. Then they exchanged an aroused glance.
+This change in the manner of things above was dangerous. Koupriane
+muttered, “The idiots!” It was such a blow for those upstairs to learn
+they walked over a mine ready to explode that it evidently had paralyzed
+their limbs. Happily Ermolai came down almost immediately and said to
+the “doctors” in his very best domestic manner:
+
+“Just a second, messieurs, if you please.”
+
+He did it still with utter naturalness. And he returned to the ledge
+before he rejoined Koupriane and Rouletabille by way of the lawn.
+Rouletabille, entirely cool, quite master of himself, as calm now as
+Koupriane was nervous, said to the Prefect of Police:
+
+“We must act now, and quickly. They are commencing to be suspicious.
+Have you a plan?”
+
+“Here is all I can see,” said Koupriane. “Have the general come down by
+the narrow servants’ stairway, and slip out of the house from the window
+of Natacha’s sitting-room, with the aid of a twisted sheet. Matrena
+Petrovna will come to speak to them during this time; that will keep
+them patient until the general is out of danger. As soon as Matrena has
+withdrawn into the garden, I will call my men, who will shoot them from
+a distance.”
+
+“And the house itself? And the general’s friends?”
+
+“Let them try to get away, too, by the servants’ stairway and jump from
+the window after the general. We must try something. Say that I have
+them at the muzzle of my revolver.”
+
+“Your plan won’t work,” said Rouletabille, “unless the door of Natacha’s
+sitting-room that opens on the drawing-room is closed.”
+
+“It is. I can see from here.”
+
+“And unless the door of the little passage-way before that staircase
+that opens into the drawing-room is closed also, and you cannot see it
+from here.”
+
+“That door is open,” said Ermolai.
+
+Koupriane swore. But he recovered himself promptly.
+
+“Madame Trebassof will close the door when she speaks to them.”
+
+“It’s impracticable,” said the reporter. “That will arouse their
+suspicions more than ever. Leave it to me; I have a plan.”
+
+“What?”
+
+“I have time to execute it, but not to tell you about it. They have
+already waited too long. I shall have to go upstairs, though. Ermolai
+will need to go with me, as with a friend of the family.”
+
+“I’ll go too.”
+
+“That would give the whole show away, if they saw you, the Prefect of
+Police.”
+
+“Why, no. If they see me--and they know I ought to be there--as soon
+as I show myself to them they will conclude I don’t know anything about
+it.”
+
+“You are wrong.”
+
+“It is my duty. I should be near the general to defend him until the
+last.”
+
+Rouletabille shrugged his shoulders before this dangerous heroism, but
+he did not stop to argue. He knew that his plan must succeed at once,
+or in five minutes at the latest there would be only ruins, the dead and
+the dying in the datcha des Iles.
+
+Still he remained astonishingly calm. In principle he had admitted that
+he was going to die. The only hope of being saved which remained to them
+rested entirely upon their keeping perfectly cool and upon the patience
+of the living bombs. Would they still have three minutes’ patience?
+
+Ermolai went ahead of Koupriane and Rouletabille. At the moment they
+reached the foot of the veranda steps the servant said loudly, repeating
+his lesson:
+
+“Oh, the general is waiting for you, Excellency. He told me to have you
+come to him at once. He is entirely well and Madame Trebassof also.”
+
+When they were in the veranda, he added:
+
+“She is to see also, at once, these gentlemen, who will be able to tell
+her there is no more danger.”
+
+And all three passed while Koupriane and Rouletabille vaguely saluted
+the two conspirators in the drawing-room. It was a decisive moment.
+Recognizing Koupriane, the two Nihilists might well believe themselves
+discovered, as the reporter had said, and precipitate the catastrophe.
+However, Ermolai, Koupriane and Rouletabille climbed the stairs to the
+bedroom like automatons, not daring to look behind them, and expecting
+the end each instant. But neither stirred. Ermolai went down again, by
+Rouletabille’s order, normally, naturally, tranquilly. They went into
+Matrena Petrovna’s chamber. Everybody was there. It was a gathering of
+ghosts.
+
+Here was what had happened above. That the “doctors” still remained
+below, that they had not been received instantly, in brief, that the
+catastrophe had been delayed up to now was due to Matrena Petrovna,
+whose watchful love, like a watch-dog, was always ready to scent danger.
+These two “doctors” whose names she did not know, who arrived so late,
+and the precipitate departure of the little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow
+aroused her watchfulness. Before allowing them to come upstairs to the
+general she resolved to have a look at them herself downstairs. She
+arose from her bed for that; and now her presentiment was justified.
+When she saw Ermolai, sober and mysterious, enter with Koupriane’s
+message, she knew instinctively, before he spoke, that there were bombs
+in the house. When Ermolai did speak it was a blow for everybody. At
+first she, Matrena Perovna, had been a frightened, foolish figure in
+the big flowered dressing-gown belonging to Feodor that she had wrapped
+about her in her haste. When Ermolai left, the general, who knew she
+only trembled for him, tried to reassure her, and, in the midst of
+the frightened silence of all of them, said a few words recalling
+the failure of all the previous attempts. But she shook her head and
+trembled, shaking with fear for him, in agony at the thought that she
+could do nothing there above those living bombs but wait for them to
+burst. As to the friends, already their limbs were ruined, absolutely
+ruined, in very truth. For a moment they were quite incapable of moving.
+The jolly Councilor of Empire, Ivan Petrovitch, had no longer a lively
+tale to tell, and the abominable prospect of “this horrible mix-up”
+ right at hand rendered him much less gay than in his best hours at
+Cubat’s place. And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff was whiter than the
+snow that covers old Lithuania’s fields when the winter’s chase is on.
+Athanase Georgevitch himself was not brilliant, and his sanguine face
+had quite changed, as though he had difficulty in digesting his last
+masterpiece with knife and fork. But, in justice to them, that was
+the first instantaneous effect. No one could learn like that, all of
+a sudden, that they were about to die in an indiscriminate slaughter
+without the heart being stopped for a little. Ermolai’s words had turned
+these amiable loafers into waxen statues, but, little by little, their
+hearts commenced to beat again and each suggested some way of preventing
+the disaster--all of them sufficiently incoherent--while Matrena
+Petrovna invoked the Virgin and at the same time helped Feodor
+Feodorovitch adjust his sword and buckle his belt; for the general
+wished to die in uniform.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch, his eyes sticking out of his head and his body
+bent as though he feared the Nihlists just below him might perceive his
+tall form--through the floor, no doubt--proposed that they should throw
+themselves out of the window, even at the cost of broken legs. The
+saddened Councilor of Empire declared that project simply idiotic, for
+as they fell they would be absolutely at the disposal of the Nihilists,
+who would be attracted by the noise and would make a handful of dust of
+them with a single gesture through the window. Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff,
+who couldn’t think of anything at all, blamed Koupriane and the rest of
+the police for not having devised something. Why hadn’t they already got
+rid of these Nihilists? After the frightened silence they had kept at
+first, now they all spoke at once, in low voices, hoarse and rapid, with
+shortened breath, making wild movements of the arms and head, and walked
+here and there in the chamber quite without motive, but very softly on
+tiptoe, going to the windows, returning, listening at the doors, peering
+through the key-holes, exchanging absurd suggestions, full of the
+wildest imaginings. “If we should... if... if,”--everybody speaking and
+everybody making signs for the others to be quiet. “Lower! If they hear
+us, we are lost.” And Koupriane, who did not come, and his police, who
+themselves had brought two assassins into the house, and were not
+able now to make them leave without having everybody jump! They were
+certainly lost. There was nothing left but to say their prayers. They
+turned to the general and Matrena Petrovna, who were wrapped in a close
+embrace. Feodor had taken the poor disheveled head of the good Matrena
+between his hands and pressed it upon his shoulders as he embraced her.
+He said, “Rest quietly against my heart, Matrena Petrovna. Nothing can
+happen to us except what God wills.”
+
+At that sight and that remark the others grew ashamed of their
+confusion. The harmony of that couple embracing in the presence of death
+restored them to themselves, to their courage, and their “Nitchevo.”
+ Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch and Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff
+repeated after Matrena Petrovna, “As God wills.” And then they said
+“Nitchevo! Nitchevo!* We will all die with you, Feodor Feodorovitch.”
+ And they all kissed one another and clasped one another in their arms,
+their eyes dim with love one for another, as at the end of a great
+banquet when they had eaten and drunk heavily in honor of one another.
+
+    * “What does it matter!”
+
+“Listen. Someone is coming up the stairs,” whispered Matrena, with her
+keen ear, and she slipped from the restraint of her husband.
+
+Breathless, they all hurried to the door opening on the landing, but
+with steps as light “as though they walked on eggs.” All four of them
+were leaning over there close by the door, hardly daring to breathe.
+They heard two men on the stairs. Were they Koupriane and Rouletabille,
+or were they the others? They had revolvers in their hands and drew back
+a little when the footsteps sounded near the door. Behind them Trebassof
+was quietly seated in his chair. The door was opened and Koupriane and
+Rouletabille perceived these death-like figures, motionless and mute.
+No one dared to speak or make a movement until the door had been closed.
+But then:
+
+“Well? Well? Save us! Where are they? Ah, my dear little domovoi-doukh,
+save the general, for the love of the Virgin!”
+
+“Tsst! tsst! Silence.”
+
+Rouletabille, very pale, but calm, spoke:
+
+“The plan is simple. They are between the two staircases, watching the
+one and the other. I will go and find them and make them mount the one
+while you descend by the other.”
+
+“Caracho! That is simple enough. Why didn’t we think of it sooner?
+Because everybody lost his head except the dear little domovoi-doukh!”
+
+But here something happened Rouletabille had not counted on. The general
+rose and said, “You have forgotten one thing, my young friend; that is
+that General Trebassof will not descend by the servants’ stairway.”
+
+His friends looked at him in stupefaction, and asked if he had gone mad.
+
+“What is this you say, Feodor?” implored Matrena.
+
+“I say,” insisted the general, “that I have had enough of this comedy,
+and that since Monsieur Koupriane has not been able to arrest these men,
+and since, on their side, they don’t seem to decide to do their duty, I
+shall go myself and put them out of my house.”
+
+He started a few steps, but had not his cane and suddenly he tottered.
+Matrena Petrovna jumped to him and lifted him in her arms as though he
+were a feather.
+
+“Not by the servants’ stairway, not by the servants’ stairway,” growled
+the obstinate general.
+
+“You will go,” Matrena replied to him, “by the way I take you.”
+
+And she carried him back into the apartment while she said quickly to
+Rouletabille:
+
+“Go, little domovoi! And God protect us!”
+
+Rouletabille disappeared at once through the door to the main staircase,
+and the group attended by Koupriane, passed through the dressing-room
+and the general’s chamber, Matrena Petrovna in the lead with her
+precious burden. Ivan Petrovitch had his hand already on the famous bolt
+which locked the door to the servants’ staircase when they all turned at
+the sound of a quick step behind them. Rouletabille had returned.
+
+“They are no longer in the drawing-room.”
+
+“Not in the drawing-room! Where are they, then?”
+
+Rouletabille pointed to the door they were about to open.
+
+“Perhaps behind that door. Take care!”
+
+All drew back.
+
+“But Ermolai ought to know where they are,” exclaimed Koupriane.
+“Perhaps they have gone, finding out they were discovered.”
+
+“They have assassinated Ermolai.”
+
+“Assassinated Ermolai!”
+
+“I have seen his body lying in the middle of the drawing-room as I
+leaned over the top of the banister. But they were not in the room, and
+I was afraid you would run into them, for they may well be hidden in the
+servants’ stairway.”
+
+“Then open the window, Koupriane, and call your men to deliver us.”
+
+“I am quite willing,” replied Koupriane coldly, “but it is the signal
+for our deaths.”
+
+“Well, why do they wait so to make us die?” muttered Feodor
+Feodorovitch. “I find them very tedious about it, for myself. What are
+you doing, Ivan Petrovitch?”
+
+The spectral figure of Ivan Petrovitch, bent beside the door of the
+stairway, seemed to be hearing things the others could not catch, but
+which frightened them so that they fled from the general’s chamber in
+disorder. Ivan Petrovitch was close on them, his eyes almost sticking
+from his head, his mouth babbling:
+
+“They are there! They are there!”
+
+Athanase Georgevitch open a window wildly and said:
+
+“I am going to jump.”
+
+But Thaddeus Tchitchnikofl’ stopped him with a word. “For me, I shall
+not leave Feodor Feodorovitch.”
+
+Athanase and Ivan both felt ashamed, and trembling, but brave, they
+gathered round the general and said, “We will die together, we will die
+together. We have lived with Feodor Feodorovitch, and we will die with
+him.”
+
+“What are they waiting for? What are they waiting for?” grumbled the
+general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna’s teeth chattered. “They are waiting for us to go
+down,” said Koupraine.
+
+“Very well, let us do it. This thing must end,” said Feodor.
+
+“Yes, yes,” they all said, for the situation was becoming intolerable;
+“enough of this. Go on down. Go on down. God, the Virgin and Saints
+Peter and Paul protect us. Let us go.”
+
+The whole group, therefore, went to the main staircase, with the
+movements of drunken men, fantastic waving of the arms, mouths
+speaking all together, saying things no one but themselves understood.
+Rouletabille had already hurriedly preceded them, was down the
+staircase, had time to throw a glance into the drawing-room, stepped
+over Ermolai’s huge corpse, entered Natacha’s sitting-room and her
+chamber, found all these places deserted and bounded back into the
+veranda at the moment the others commenced to descend the steps around
+Feodor Feodorovitch. The reporter’s eyes searched all the dark corners
+and had perceived nothing suspicious when, in the veranda, he moved a
+chair. A shadow detached itself from it and glided under the staircase.
+Rouletabille cried to the group on the stairs.
+
+“They are under the staircase!”
+
+Then Rouletabille confronted a sight that he could never forget all his
+life.
+
+At this cry, they all stopped, after an instinctive move to go back.
+Feodor Feodorovitch, who was still in Matrena Petrovna’s arms, cried:
+
+“Vive le Tsar!”
+
+And then, those whom the reporter half expected to see flee, distracted,
+one way and another, or to throw themselves madly from the height of the
+steps, abandoning Feodor and Matrena, gathered themselves instead by
+a spontaneous movement around the general, like a guard of honor, in
+battle, around the flag. Koupriane marched ahead. And they insisted
+also upon descending the terrible steps slowly, and sang the Bodje tsara
+Krani, the national anthem!
+
+With an overwhelming roar, which shocked earth and sky and the ears of
+Rouletabille, the entire house seemed lifted in the air; the staircase
+rose amid flame and smoke, and the group which sang the Bodje tsara
+Krani disappeared in a horrible apotheosis.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV. THE MARSHES
+
+They ascertained the next day that there had been two explosions, almost
+simultaneous, one under each staircase. The two Nihilists, when
+they felt themselves discovered, and watched by Ermolai, had thrown
+themselves silently on him as he turned his back in passing them, and
+strangled him with a piece of twine. Then they separated each to watch
+one of the staircases, reasoning that Koupriane and General Trebassof
+would have to decide to descend.
+
+The datcha des Iles was nothing now but a smoking ruin. But from the
+fact that the living bombs had exploded separately the destructive
+effect was diffused, and although there were numerous wounded, as in the
+case of the attack on the Stolypine datcha, at least no one was killed
+outright; that is, excepting the two Nihilists, of whom no trace could
+be found save a few rags.
+
+Rouletabille had been hurled into the garden and he was glad enough to
+escape so, a little shaken, but without a scratch. The group composed of
+Feodor and his friends were strangely protected by the lightness of the
+datcha’s construction. The iron staircase, which, so to speak, almost
+hung to the two floors, being barely attached at top and bottom, raised
+under them and then threw them off as it broke into a thousand pieces,
+but only after, by its very yielding, it had protected them from the
+first force of the bomb. They had risen from the ruins without mortal
+wounds. Koupriane had a hand badly burned, Athanase Georgevitch had his
+nose and cheeks seriously hurt, Ivan Petrovitch lost an ear; the most
+seriously injured was Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, both of whose legs were
+broken. Extraordinarily enough, the first person who appeared, rising
+from the midst of the wreckage, was Matrena Petrovna, still holding
+Feodor in her arms. She had escaped with a few burns and the general,
+saved again by the luck of the soldier whom Death does not want, was
+absolutely uninjured. Feodor gave shouts of joy. They strove to quiet
+him, because, after all, around him some poor wretches had been badly
+hurt, as well as poor Ermolai, who lay there dead. The domestics in the
+basement had been more seriously wounded and burned because the main
+force of the explosion had gone downwards; which had probably saved the
+personages above.
+
+Rouletabille had been taken with the other victims to a neighboring
+datcha; but as soon as he had shaken himself free of that terrible
+nightmare he escaped from the place. He really regretted that he was not
+dead. These successive waves of events had swamped him; and he accused
+himself alone of all this disaster. With acutest anxiety he had inquired
+about the condition of each of “his victims.” Feodor had not been
+wounded, but now he was almost delirious, asking every other minute as
+the hours crept on for Natacha, who had not reappeared. That unhappy
+girl Rouletabille had steadily believed innocent. Was she a culprit?
+“Ah, if she had only chosen to! If she had had confidence,” he cried,
+raising anguished hands towards heaven, “none of all this need have
+happened. No one would have attacked and no one would ever again attack
+the life of Trebassof. For I was not wrong in claiming before Koupriane
+that the general’s life was in my hand, and I had the right to say
+to him, ‘Life for life! Give me Matiew’s and I will give you the
+general’s.’ And now there has been one more fruitless attempt to kill
+Feodor Feodorovitch and it is Natacha’s fault--that I swear, because
+she would not listen to me. And is Natacha implicated in it? O my God”
+ Rouletabille asked this vain question of the Divinity, for he expected
+no more help in answering it on earth.
+
+Natacha! Innocent or guilty, where was she? What was she doing? to know
+that! To know if one were right or wrong--and if one were wrong, to
+disappear, to die!
+
+Thus the unhappy Rouletabille muttered as he walked along the bank of
+the Neva, not far from the ruins of the poor datcha, where the joyous
+friends of Feodor Feodorovitch would have no more good dinners, never;
+so he soliloquized, his head on fire.
+
+And, all at once, he recovered trace of the young girl, that trace lost
+earlier, a trace left at her moment of flight, after the poisoning and
+before the explosion. And had he not in that a terrible coincidence?
+Because the poison might well have been only in preparation for the
+final attack, the pretext for the tragic arrival of the two false
+doctors. Natacha, Natacha, the living mystery surrounded already by so
+many dead!
+
+Not far from the ruins of the datcha Rouletabille soon made sure that a
+group of people had been there the night before, coming from the woods
+near-by, and returning to them. He was able to be sure of this because
+the boundaries of the datcha had been guarded by troops and police as
+soon as the explosion took place, under orders to keep back the crowd
+that hurried to Eliaguine. He looked attentively at the grass, the
+ferns, the broken and trampled twigs. Certainly a struggle had occurred
+there. He could distinguish clearly in the soft earth of a narrow glade
+the prints of Natacha’s two little boots among all the large footprints.
+
+He continued his search with his heart heavier and heavier, he had a
+presentiment that he was on the point of discovering a new misfortune.
+The footprints passed steadily under the branches along the side of the
+Neva. From a bush he picked a shred of white cloth, and it seemed to
+him a veritable battle had taken place there. Torn branches strewed the
+grass. He went on. Very close to the bank he saw by examination of the
+soil, where there was no more trace of tiny heels and little soles,
+that the woman who had been found there was carried, and carried, into a
+boat, of which the place of fastening to the bank was still visible.
+
+“They have carried off Natacha,” he cried in a surge of anguish.
+“bungler that I am, that is my fault too--all my fault--all my fault!
+They wished to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch’s death, for which they hold
+Natacha responsible, and they have kidnapped her.”
+
+His eyes searched the great arm of the river for a boat. The river was
+deserted. Not a sail, nothing visible on the dead waters! “What shall I
+do? What shall I do? I must save her.”
+
+He resumed his course along the river. Who could give him any useful
+information? He drew near a little shelter occupied by a guard. The
+guard was speaking to an officer. Perhaps he had noticed something
+during his watch that evening along the river. That branch of the river
+was almost always deserted after the day was over. A boat plying
+between these shores in the twilight would certainly attract attention.
+Rouletabille showed the guard the paper Koupriane had given him in the
+beginning, and with the officer (who turned out to be a police officer)
+as interpreter, he asked his questions. As a matter of fact the guard
+had been sufficiently puzzled by the doings and comings of a light boat
+which, after disappearing for an instant, around the bend of the river,
+had suddenly rowed swiftly out again and accosted a sailing-yacht which
+appeared at the opening of the gulf. It was one of those small but rapid
+and elegant sailing craft such as are seen in the Lachtka regattas.
+
+Lachtka! “The Bay of Lachtka!”
+
+The word was a ray of light for the reporter, who recalled now the
+counsel Gounsovski had given him. “Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and tell
+me then if you still believe Natacha is innocent!” Gounsovski must have
+known when he said this that Natacha had embarked in company with the
+Nihilists, but evidently he was ignorant that she had gone with them
+under compulsion, as their prisoner.
+
+Was it too late to save Natacha? In any case, before he died, he would
+try in every way possible, so as at least to have kept her as much as he
+could from the disaster for which he held himself responsible. He ran to
+the Barque, near the Point.
+
+His voice was firm as he hailed the canoe of the floating restaurant
+where, thanks to him, Koupriane had been thwarted in impotent anger. He
+had himself taken to just below Staria-Derevnia and jumped out at the
+spot where he saw little Katharina disappear a few days before. He
+landed in the mud and climbed on hands and knees up the slope of a
+roadway which followed the bank. This bank led to the Bay of Lachtka,
+not far from the frontier of Finland.
+
+On Rouletabille’s left lay the sea, the immense gulf with slight waves;
+to his right was the decaying stretch of the marsh. Stagnant water
+stretching to the horizon, coarse grass and reeds, an extraordinary
+tangle of water-plants, small ponds whose greenish scum did not stir
+under the stiff breeze, water that was heavy and dirty. Along this
+narrow strip of land thrust thus between the marsh, the sky and the sea,
+he hurried, with many stumblings, his eyes fixed on the deserted gulf.
+Suddenly he turned his head at a singular noise. At first he didn’t see
+anything, but heard in the distance a vague clamoring while a sort of
+vapor commenced to rise from the marsh. And then he noticed, nearer
+him, the high marsh grasses undulating. Finally he saw a countless flock
+rising from the bed of the marshes. Beasts, groups of beasts, whose
+horns one saw like bayonets, jostled each other trying to keep to the
+firm land. Many of them swam and on the backs of some were naked men,
+stark naked, with hair falling to their shoulders and streaming
+behind them like manes. They shouted war-cries and waved their clubs.
+Rouletabille stopped short before this prehistoric invasion. He would
+never have imagined that a few miles from the Nevsky Prospect he could
+have found himself in the midst of such a spectacle. These savages had
+not even a loin-cloth. Where did they come from with their herd? From
+what remote place in the world or in old and gone history had they
+emerged? What was this new invasion? What prodigious slaughter-house
+awaited these unruly herds? They made a noise like thunder in the marsh.
+Here were a thousand unkempt haunches undulating in the marsh like the
+ocean as a storm approaches. The stark-naked men jumped along the route,
+waving their clubs, crying gutturally in a way the beasts seemed to
+understand. They worked their way out from the marsh and turned toward
+the city, leaving behind, to swathe the view of them a while and then
+fade away, a pestilential haze that hung like an aura about the naked,
+long-haired men. It was terrible and magnificent. In order not to be
+shoved into the water, Rouletabille had climbed a small rock that stood
+beside the route, and had waited there as though petrified himself.
+When the barbarians had finally passed by he climbed down again, but the
+route had become a bog of trampled filth.
+
+Happily, he heard the noise of a primitive conveyance behind him. It
+was a telega. Curiously primitive, the telega is four-wheeled, with two
+planks thrown crudely across the axle-trees. Rouletabille gave the man
+who was seated in it three roubles, and jumped into the planks beside
+him, and the two little Finnish horses, whose manes hung clear to the
+mud, went like the wind. Such crude conveyances are necessary on such
+crude roads, but it requires a strong constitution to make a journey on
+them. Still, the reporter felt none of the jolting, he was so intent
+on the sea and the coast of Lachtka Bay. The vehicle finally reached
+a wooden bridge, across a murky creek. As the day commenced to fade
+colorlessly, Rouletabille jumped off onto the shore and his rustic
+equipage crossed to the Sestroriesk side. It was a corner of land black
+and somber as his thoughts that he surveyed now. “Watch the Bay of
+Lachtka!” The reporter knew that this desolate plain, this impenetrable
+marsh, this sea which offered the fugitive refuge in innumerable fords,
+had always been a useful retreat for Nihilistic adventurers. A hundred
+legends circulated in St. Petersburg about the mysteries of Lachtka
+marshes. And that gave him his last hope. Maybe he would be able to run
+across some revolutionaries to whom he could explain about Natacha, as
+prudently as possible; he might even see Natacha herself. Gounsovski
+could not have spoken vain words to him.
+
+Between the Lachtkrinsky marsh and the strand he perceived on the edge
+of the forests which run as far as Sestroriesk a little wooden house
+whose walls were painted a reddish-brown, and its roof green. It was
+not the Russian isba, but the Finnish touba. However, a Russian sign
+announced it to be a restaurant. The young man had to take only a few
+steps to enter it. He was the only customer there. An old man,
+with glasses and a long gray beard, evidently the proprietor of the
+establishment, stood behind the counter, presiding over the zakouskis.
+Rouletabille chose some little sandwiches which he placed on a plate. He
+took a bottle of pivo and made the man understand that later, if it were
+possible, he would like a good hot supper. The other made a sign that
+he understood and showed him into an adjoining room which was used for
+diners. Rouletabille was quite ready enough to die in the face of his
+failures, but he did not wish to perish from hunger.
+
+A table was placed beside a window looking out over the sea and over the
+entrance to the bay. It could not have been better and, with his eye
+now on the horizon, now on the estuary near-by, he commenced to eat with
+gloomy avidity. He was inclined to feel sorry for himself, to indulge
+in self-pity. “Just the same, two and two always make four,” he said to
+himself; “but in my calculations perhaps I have forgotten the surd. Ah,
+there was a time when I would not have overlooked anything. And even now
+I haven’t overlooked anything, if Natacha is innocent!” Having literally
+scoured the plate, he struck the table a great blow with his fist and
+said: “She is!”
+
+Just then the door opened. Rouletabille supposed the proprietor of the
+place was entering.
+
+It was Koupriane.
+
+He rose, startled. He could not imagine by what mystery the Prefect of
+Police had made his way there, but he rejoiced from the bottom of his
+heart, for if he was trying to rescue Natacha from the hands of the
+revolutionaries Koupriane would be a valuable ally. He clapped the
+Prefect on the shoulder.
+
+“Well, well!” he said, almost joyfully. “I certainly did not expect you
+here. How is your wound?”
+
+“Nitchevo! Not worth speaking about; it’s nothing.”
+
+“And the general and--! Ah, that frightful night! And those two
+unfortunates who--?”
+
+“Nitchevo! Nitchevo!”
+
+“And poor Ermolai!”
+
+“Nitchevo! Nitchevo! It is nothing.”
+
+Rouletabille looked him over. The Prefect of Police had an arm in a
+sling, but he was bright and shining as a new ten-rouble piece, while
+he, poor Rouletabille, was so abominably soiled and depressed. Where did
+he come from? Koupriane understood his look and smiled.
+
+“Well, I have just come from the Finland train; it is the best way.”
+
+“But what can you have come here to do, Excellency?”
+
+“The same thing as you.”
+
+“Bah!” exclaimed Rouletabille, “do you mean to say that you have come
+here to save Natacha?”
+
+“How--to save her! I come to capture her.”
+
+“To capture her?”
+
+“Monsieur Rouletabille, I have a very fine little dungeon in Saints
+Peter and Paul fortress that is all ready for her.”
+
+“You are going to throw Natacha into a dungeon!”
+
+“The Emperor’s order, Monsieur Rouletabille. And if you see me here in
+person it is simply because His Majesty requires that the thing be done
+as respectfully and discreetly as possible.”
+
+“Natacha in prison!” cried the reporter, who saw in horror all obstacles
+rising before him at one and the same time. “For what reasons, pray?”
+
+“The reason is simple enough. Natacha Feodorovna is the last word in
+wickedness and doesn’t deserve anybody’s pity. She is the accomplice
+of the revolutionaries and the instigator of all the crimes against her
+father.”
+
+“I am sure that you are mistaken, Excellency. But how have you been
+guided to her?”
+
+“Simply by you.”
+
+“By me?”
+
+“Yes, we lost all trace of Natacha. But, as you had disappeared also,
+I made up my mind that you could only be occupied in searching for her,
+and that by finding you I might have the chance to lay my hands on her.”
+
+“But I haven’t seen any of your men?”
+
+“Why, one of them brought you here.”
+
+“Me?”
+
+“Yes, you. Didn’t you climb onto a telega?”
+
+“Ah, the driver.”
+
+“Exactly. I had arranged to have him meet me at the Sestroriesk station.
+He pointed out the place where you dropped off, and here I am.”
+
+The reporter bent his head, red with chagrin. Decidedly the sinister
+idea that he was responsible for the death of an innocent man and
+all the ills which had followed out of it had paralyzed his detective
+talents. He recognized it now. What was the use of struggling! If
+anyone had told him that he would be played with that way sometime,
+he, Rouletabille! he would have laughed heartily enough--then. But now,
+well, he wasn’t capable of anything further. He was his own most cruel
+enemy. Not only was Natacha in the hands of the revolutionaries through
+his fault, by his abominable error, but worse yet, in the very moment
+when he wished to save her, he foolishly, naively, had conducted the
+police to the very spot where they should have been kept away. It was
+the depth of his humiliation; Koupriane really pitied the reporter.
+
+“Come, don’t blame yourself too much,” said he. “We would have found
+Natacha without you; Gounsovski notified us that she was going to embark
+in the Bay of Lachtka this evening with Priemkof.”
+
+“Natacha with Priemkof!” exclaimed Rouletabille. “Natacha with the man
+who introduced the two living bombs into her father’s house! If she is
+with him, Excellency, it is because she is his prisoner, and that alone
+will be sufficient to prove her innocence. I thank the Heaven that has
+sent you here.”
+
+Koupriane swallowed a glass of vodka, poured another after it, and
+finally deigned to translate his thought:
+
+“Natacha is the friend of these precious men and we will see them
+disembark hand in hand.”
+
+“Your men, then, haven’t studied the traces of the struggle that ‘these
+precious men’ have had on the banks of the Neva before they carried away
+Natacha?”
+
+“Oh, they haven’t been hoodwinked. As a matter of fact, the struggle was
+quite too visible not to have been done for appearances’ sake. What a
+child you are! Can’t you see that Natacha’s presence in the datcha
+had become quite too dangerous for that charming young girl after the
+poisoning of her father and step-mother failed and at the moment when
+her comrades were preparing to send General Trebassof a pleasant little
+gift of dynamite? She arranged to get away and yet to appear kidnapped.
+It is too simple.”
+
+Rouletabille raised his head.
+
+“There is something simpler still to imagine than the culpability of
+Natacha. It is that Priemkof schemed to pour the poison into the flask
+of vodka, saying to himself that if the poison didn’t succeed at least
+it would make the occasion for introducing his dynamite into the house
+in the pockets of the ‘doctors’ that they would go to find.”
+
+Koupriane seized Rouletabille’s wrist and threw some terrible words at
+him, looking into the depths of his eyes:
+
+“It was not Priemkof who poured the poison, because there was no poison
+in the flask.”
+
+Rouletabille, as he heard this extraordinary declaration, rose, more
+startled than he had ever been in the course of this startling campaign.
+
+If there was no poison in the flask, the poison must have been poured
+directly into the glasses by a person who was in the kiosk! Now, there
+were only four persons in the kiosk: the two who were poisoned and
+Natacha and himself, Rouletabille. And that kiosk was so perfectly
+isolated that it was impossible for any other persons than the four who
+were there to pour poison upon the table.
+
+“But it is not possible!” he cried.
+
+“It is so possible that it is so. Pere Alexis declared that there is no
+poison in the flask, and I ought to tell you that an analysis I had
+made after his bears him out. There was no poison, either, in the small
+bottle you took to Pere Alexis and into which you yourself had poured
+the contents of Natacha’s glass and yours; no trace of poison excepting
+in two of the four glasses, arsenate of soda was found only on the
+soiled napkins of Trebassof and his wife and in the two glasses they
+drank from.”
+
+“Oh, that is horrible,” muttered the stupefied reporter; “that is
+horrible, for then the poisoner must be either Natacha or me.”
+
+“I have every confidence in you,” declared Koupriane with a great laugh
+of satisfaction, striking him on the shoulder. “And I arrest Natacha,
+and you who love logic ought to be satisfied now.”
+
+Rouletabille hadn’t a word more to say. He sat down again and let his
+head fall into his hands, like one sleep has seized.
+
+“Ah, our young girls; you don’t know them. They are terrible, terrible!”
+ said Koupriane, lighting a big cigar. “Much more terrible than the boys.
+In good families the boys still enjoy themselves; but the girls--they
+read! It goes to their heads. They are ready for anything; they know
+neither father nor mother. Ah, you are a child, you cannot comprehend.
+Two lovely eyes, a melancholy air, a soft, low voice, and you are
+captured--you believe you have before you simply an inoffensive, good
+little girl. Well, Rouletabille, here is what I will tell you for
+your instruction. There was the time of the Tchipoff attack; the
+revolutionaries who were assigned to kill Tchipoff were disguised as
+coachmen and footmen. Everything had been carefully prepared and it would
+seem that no one could have discovered the bombs in the place they had
+been stored. Well, do you know the place where those bombs were found?
+In the rooms of the governor, of Wladmir’s daughter! Exactly, my little
+friend, just there! The rooms of the governor’s daughter, Mademoiselle
+Alexeieiv. Ah, these young girls! Besides, it was this same Mademoiselle
+Alexeieiv who, so prettily, pierced the brain of an honest Swiss
+merchant who had the misfortune to resemble one of our ministers. If
+we had hanged that charming young girl earlier, my dear Monsieur
+Rouletabille, that last catastrophe might have been avoided. A good rope
+around the neck of all these little females--it is the only way, the
+only way!”
+
+A man entered. Rouletabille recognized the driver of the telega. There
+were some rapid words between the Chief and the agent. The man closed
+the shutters of the room, but through the interstices they would be
+able to see what went on outside. Then the agent left; Koupriane, as he
+pushed aside the table that was near the window, said to the reporter:
+
+“You had better come to the window; my man has just told me the boat
+is drawing near. You can watch an interesting sight. We are sure that
+Natacha is still aboard. The yacht, after the explosion at the datcha,
+took up two men who put off to it in a canoe, and since then it has
+simply sailed back and forth in the gulf. We have taken our precautions
+in Finland the same as here and it is here they are going to try to
+disembark. Keep an eye on them.”
+
+Koupriane was at his post of observation. Evening slowly fell. The sky
+was growing grayish-black, a tint that blended with the slate-colored
+sea. To those on the bank, the sound of the men about to die came softly
+across the water. There was a sail far out. Between the strand and the
+touba where Koupriane watched, was a ridge, a window, which, however,
+did not hide the shore or the bay from the prefect of police, because at
+the height where he was his glance passed at an angle above it. But from
+the sea this ridge entirely hid anyone who lay in ambush behind it. The
+reporter watched fifty moujiks flat on their stomachs crawling up the
+ridge, behind two of their number whose heads alone topped the ridge.
+In the line of gaze taken by those two heads was the white sail, looming
+much larger now. The yacht was heeled in the water and glided with real
+elegance, heading straight on. Suddenly, just when they supposed she was
+coming straight to shore, the sails fell and a canoe was dropped over
+the side. Four men got into it; then a woman jumped lightly down
+a little gangway into the canoe. It was Natacha. Koupriane had no
+difficulty in recognizing her through the gathering darkness.
+
+“Ah, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille,” said he, “see your prisoner of the
+Nihilists. Notice how she is bound. Her thongs certainly are causing her
+great pain. These revolutionaries surely are brutes!”
+
+The truth was that Natacha had gone quite readily to the rudder and
+while the others rowed she steered the light boat to the place on the
+beach that had been pointed out to her. Soon the prow of the canoe
+touched the sands. There did not seem to be a soul about, and that was
+the conclusion the men in the canoe who stood up looking around, seemed
+to reach. They jumped out, and then it was Natacha’s turn. She accepted
+the hand held out to her, talking pleasantly with the men all the time.
+She even turned to press the hand of one of them. The group came up
+across the beach. All this time the watchers in the little eating-house
+could see the false moujiks, who had wriggled on their stomachs to the
+very edge of the ridge, holding themselves ready to spring.
+
+Behind his shutter, Koupriane could not restrain an exclamation of
+triumph; he gradually identified some of the figures in the group, and
+muttered:
+
+“Eh! eh! There is Priemkof himself and the others. Gounsovski is right
+and he certainly is well-informed; his system is decidedly a good one.
+What a net-full!”
+
+He hardly breathed as he watched the outcome. He could discern
+elsewhere, beside the bay, flat on the ground, concealed by the
+slightest elevation of the soil, other false moujiks. The wood of
+Sestroriesk was watched in the same way. The group of revolutionaries
+who strolled behind Natacha stopped to confer. In three--maybe
+two--minutes, they would be surrounded--cut off, taken in the trap.
+Suddenly a gunshot sounded in the night, and the group, with startled
+speed, turned in their tracks and made silently for the sea, while from
+all directions poured the concealed agents and threw themselves into
+the pursuit, jostling each other and crying after the fugitives. But the
+cries became cries of rage, for the group of revolutionaries gained the
+beach. They saw Natacha, who was held up by Priemkof himself, reject the
+aid of the Nihilist, who did not wish to abandon her, in order that he
+might save himself. She made him go and seeing that she was going to
+be taken, stopped short and waited for the enemy stoically, with folded
+arms. Meanwhile, her three companions succeeded in throwing themselves
+into the canoe and plied the oars hard while Koupriane’s men, in the
+water up to their chests, discharged their revolvers at the fugitives.
+The men in the canoe, fearing to wound Natacha, made no reply to the
+firing. The yacht had sails up by the time they drew alongside, and
+made off like a bird toward the mysterious fords of Finland, audaciously
+hoisting the black flag of the Revolution.
+
+Meantime, Koupriane’s agents, trembling before his anger, gathered at
+the eating-house. The Prefect of Police let his fury loose on them and
+treated them like the most infamous of animals. The capture of Natacha
+was little comfort. He had planned for the whole bag, and his men’s
+stupidity took away all his self-control. If he had had a whip at hand
+he would have found prompt solace for his mined hopes. Natacha, standing
+in a corner, with her face singularly calm, watched this extraordinary
+scene that was like a menagerie in which the tamer himself had become
+a wild beast. From another corner, Rouletabille kept his eyes fixed on
+Natacha who ignored him. Ah, that girl, sphinx to them all! Even to him
+who thought a while ago that he could read things invisible to other
+vulgar men in her features, in her eyes! The impassive face of that girl
+whose father they had tried to assassinate only a few hours before and
+who had just pressed the hand of Priemkof, the assassin! Once she turned
+her head slightly toward Rouletabille. The reporter then looked towards
+her with increased eagerness, his eyes burning, as though he would say:
+“Surely, Natacha, you are not the accomplice of your father’s assassins;
+surely it was not you who poured the poison!”
+
+But Natacha’s glance passed the reporter coldly over. Ah, that
+mysterious, cold mask, the mouth with its bitter, impudent smile, an
+atrocious smile which seemed to say to the reporter: “If it is not I who
+poured the poison, then it is you!”
+
+It was the visage common enough to the daughters whom Koupriane had
+spoken of a little while before, “the young girls who read” and, their
+reading done, set themselves to accomplish some terrible thing, some
+thing because of which, from time to time, they place stiff ropes around
+the necks of these young females.
+
+Finally, Koupriane’s frenzy wore itself out and he made a sign. The men
+filed out in dismal silence. Two of them remained to guard Natacha. From
+outside came the sounds of a carriage from Sestroriesk ready to convey
+the girl to the Dungeons of Sts. Peter and Paul. A final gesture from
+the Prefect of Police and the rough bands of the two guards seized the
+prisoner’s frail wrists. They hustled her along, thrust her outside,
+jamming her against the doorway, venting thus their anger at the
+reproaches of their chief. A few seconds later the carriage departed,
+not to stop until the fortress was reached with the trickling
+tombs under the bed of the river where young girls about to die are
+confined--who have read too much, without entirely understanding, as
+Monsieur Kropotkine says.
+
+Koupriane prepared to leave in turn. Rouletabille stopped him.
+
+“Excellency, I wish you to tell me why you have shown such anger to your
+men just now.”
+
+“They are brute beasts,” cried the Chief of Police, quite beside himself
+again. “They have made me miss the biggest catch of my life. They threw
+themselves on the group two minutes too early. Some of them fired a gun
+that they took for the signal and that served to warn the Nihilists.
+But I will let them all rot in prison until I learn which one fired that
+shot.”
+
+“You needn’t look far for that,” said Rouletabille. “I did it.”
+
+“You! Then you must have gone outside the touba?”
+
+“Yes, in order to warn them. But still I was a little late, since you
+did take Natacha.”
+
+Koupriane’s eyes blazed.
+
+“You are their accomplice in all this,” he hurled at the reporter, “and
+I am going to the Tsar for permission to arrest you.”
+
+“Hurry, then, Excellency,” replied the reporter coldly, “because the
+Nihilists, who also think they have a little account to settle with me,
+may reach me before you.”
+
+And he saluted.
+
+
+
+
+
+XV. “I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU”
+
+At the hotel a note from Gounsovski: “Don’t forget this time to
+come to-morrow to have luncheon with me. Warmest regards from Madame
+Gounsovski.” Then a horrible, sleepless night, shaken with echoes of
+explosions and the clamor of the wounded; and the solemn shade of Pere
+Alexis, stretching out toward Rouletabille a phial of poison and saying,
+“Either Natacha or you!” Then, rising among the shades the bloody form
+of Michael Nikolaievitch the Innocent!
+
+In the morning a note from the Marshal of the Court.
+
+Monsieur le Marechal had no particular good news, evidently, for in
+terms quite without enthusiasm he invited the young man to luncheon for
+that same day, rather early, at midday, as he wished to see him once
+more before he left for France. “I see,” said Rouletabille to himself;
+“Monsieur le Marechal pronounces my expulsion from the country”--and he
+forgot once more the Gounsovski luncheon. The meeting-place named was
+the great restaurant called the Bear. Rouletabille entered it promptly
+at noon. He asked the schwitzar if the Grand Marshal of the Court had
+arrived, and was told no one had seen him yet. They conducted him to
+the huge main hall, where, however, there was only one person. This man,
+standing before the table spread with zakouskis, was stuffing himself.
+At the sound of Rouletabille’s step on the floor this sole famished
+patron turned and lifted his hands to heaven as he recognized the
+reporter. The latter would have given all the roubles in his pocket to
+have avoided the recognition. But he was already face to face with
+the advocate so celebrated for his table-feats, the amiable Athanase
+Georgevitch, his head swathed in bandages and dressings from the midst
+of which one could perceive distinctly only the eyes and, above all, the
+mouth.
+
+“How goes it, little friend?”
+
+“How are you?”
+
+“Oh, I! There is nothing the matter. In a week we shall have forgotten
+it.”
+
+“What a terrible affair,” said the reporter, “I certainly believed we
+were all dead men.”
+
+“No, no. It was nothing. Nitchevo!”
+
+“And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff with his two poor legs broken!”
+
+“Eh! Nitchevo! He has plenty of good solid splints that will make him
+two good legs again. Nitchevo! Don’t you think anything more about that!
+It is nothing. You have come here to dine? A very celebrated house this.
+Caracho!” He busied himself to do the honors. One would have said the
+restaurant belonged to him. He boasted of its architecture and the
+cuisine “a la Francaise.”
+
+“Do you know,” he inquired confidently, “a finer restaurant room
+anywhere in the world?”
+
+In fact, it seemed to Rouletabille as he looked up into the high glass
+arch that he was in a railway station decorated for some illustrious
+traveler, for there were flowers and plants everywhere. But the visitor
+whom the ball awaited was the Russian eater, the ogre who never failed
+to come to eat at The Bear. Pointing out the lines of tables shining
+with their white cloths and bright silver, Athanase Georgevitch, with
+his mouth full, said:
+
+“Ah, my dear little French monsieur, you should see it at supper-time,
+with the women, and the jewels, and the music. There is nothing in
+France that can give you any idea of it, nothing! The gayety--the
+champagne--and the jewels, monsieur, worth millions and millions of
+roubles! Our women wear them all--everything they have. They are decked
+like sacred shrines! All the family jewels--from the very bottom of the
+caskets! it is magnificent, thoroughly Russian--Muscovite! What am
+I saying? It is Asiatic. Monsieur, in the evening, at a fete, we are
+Asiatic. Let me tell you something on the quiet. You notice that this
+enormous dining hall is surrounded by those windowed balconies. Each of
+those windows belongs to a separate private room. Well, you see that
+window there?--yes, there--that is the room of a grand duke--yes, he’s
+the one I mean--a very gay grand duke. Do you know, one evening when
+there was a great crowd here--families, monsieur, family parties,
+high-born families--the window of that particular balcony was thrown
+open, and a woman stark naked, as naked as my hand, monsieur, was
+dropped into the dining-hall and ran across it full-speed. It was a
+wager, monsieur, a wager of the jolly grand duke’s, and the demoiselle
+won it. But what a scandal! Ah, don’t speak of it; that would be very
+bad form. But--sufficiently Asiatic, eh? Truly Asiatic. And--something
+much more unfortunate--you see that table? It happened the Russian New
+Year Eve, at supper. All the beauty, the whole capital, was here. Just
+at midnight the orchestra struck up the Bodje tsara krani* to inaugurate
+the joyful Russian New Year, and everybody stood up, according to
+custom, and listened in silence, as loyal subjects should. Well, at
+that table, accompanying his family, there was a young student, a fine
+fellow, very correct, and in uniform. This unhappy young student, who
+had risen like everybody else, to listen to the Bodje tsara krani,
+inadvertently placed his knee on a chair. Truly that is not a correct
+attitude, monsieur, but really it was no reason for killing him, was
+it now? Certainly not. Well, a brute in uniform, an officer quite
+immaculately gotten-up, drew a revolver from his pocket and discharged
+it at the student point-blank. You can imagine the scandal, for the
+student was dead! There were Paris journalists there, besides, who had
+never been there before, you see! Monsieur Gaston Leroux was at that
+very table. What a scandal! They had a regular battle. They broke
+carafes over the head of the assassin--for he was neither more nor less
+than an assassin, a drinker of blood--an Asiatic. They picked up the
+assassin, who was bleeding all over, and carried him off to look after
+him. As to the dead man, he lay stretched out there under a table-cloth,
+waiting for the police--and those at the tables went on with their
+drinking. Isn’t that Asiatic enough for you? Here, a naked woman; there,
+a corpse! And the jewels--and the champagne! What do you say to that?”
+
+     * The Russian national anthem.
+
+“His Excellency the Grand Marshal of the Court is waiting for you,
+Monsieur.”
+
+Rouletabille shook hands with Athanase Georgevitch, who returned to
+his zakouskis, and followed the interpreter to the door of one of
+the private rooms. The high dignitary was there. With a charm in his
+politeness of which the high-born Russian possesses the secret
+over almost everybody else in the world, the Marshal intimated to
+Rouletabille that he had incurred imperial displeasure.
+
+“You have been denounced by Koupriane, who holds you responsible for the
+checks he has suffered in this affair.”
+
+“Monsieur Koupriane is right,” replied Rouletabille, “and His Majesty
+should believe him, since it is the truth. But don’t fear anything from
+me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, for I shall not inconvenience Monsieur
+Koupriane any further, nor anybody else. I shall disappear.”
+
+“I believe Koupriane is already directed to vise your passport.”
+
+“He is very good, and he does himself much harm.”
+
+“All that is a little your fault, Monsieur Rouletabille. We believed we
+could consider you as a friend, and you have never failed, it appears,
+on each occasion to give your help to our enemies.
+
+“Who says that?”
+
+“Koupriane. Oh, it is necessary to be one with us. And you are not one
+with us. And if you are not for us you are against us. You understand
+that, I think. That is the way it has to be. The Terrorists have
+returned to the methods of the Nihilists, who succeeded altogether
+too well against Alexander II. When I tell you that they succeeded in
+placing their messages even in the imperial palace...”
+
+“Yes, yes,” said Rouletabille, vaguely, as though he were already
+far removed from the contingencies of this world. “I know that Czar
+Alexander II sometimes found under his napkin a letter announcing his
+condemnation to death.”
+
+“Monsieur, at the Chateau yesterday morning something happened that is
+perhaps more alarming than the letter found by Alexander II under his
+napkin.”
+
+“What can it be? Have bombs been discovered?”
+
+“No. It is a bizarre occurrence and almost unbelievable. The eider
+downs, all the eider down coverings belonging to the imperial
+family disappeared yesterday morning.” *
+
+     * Historically authentic.
+
+“Surely not!”
+
+“It is just as I say. And it was impossible to learn what had become
+of them--until yesterday evening, when they were found again in their
+proper places in the chambers. That is the new mystery!”
+
+“Certainly. But how were they taken out?”
+
+“Shall we ever know? All we found was two feathers, this morning, in
+the boudoir of the Empress, which leads us to think that the eider downs
+were taken out that way. I am taking the two feathers to Koupriane.”
+
+“Let me see them,” asked the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille looked them over and handed them back.
+
+“And what do you think the whole affair means?”
+
+“We are inclined to regard it as a threat by the revolutionaries. If
+they can carry away the eider downs, it would be quite as easy for them
+to carry away...”
+
+“The Imperial family? No, I don’t think it is that.”
+
+“What do you mean, then?”
+
+“I? Nothing any more. Not only do I not think any more, but I don’t wish
+to. Tell me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, it is useless, I suppose, to
+try to see His Majesty before I go?”
+
+“What good would it do, monsieur? We know everything now. This Natacha
+that you defended against Koupriane is proved the culprit. The last
+affair does not leave that in any reasonable doubt. And she is taken
+care of from this time on. His Majesty wishes never to hear Natacha
+spoken of again under any pretext.”
+
+“And what are you going to do with that young girl?”
+
+“The Tsar has decided that there shall not be any trial and that the
+daughter of General Trebassof shall be sent, by administrative order,
+to Siberia. The Tsar, monsieur, is very good, for he might have had her
+hanged. She deserved it.”
+
+“Yes, yes, the Tsar is very good.”
+
+“You are very absorbed, Monsieur Rouletabille, and you are not eating.”
+
+“I have no appetite, Monsieur le Marechal. Tell me,--the Emperor must be
+rather bored at Tsarskoie-Coelo?”
+
+“Oh, he has plenty of work. He rises at seven o’clock and has a light
+English luncheon--tea and toast. At eight o’clock he starts and works
+till ten. From ten to eleven he promenades.”
+
+“In the jail-yard?” asked Rouletabille innocently.
+
+“What’s that you say? Ah, you are an enfant terrible! Certainly we do
+well to send you away. Until eleven he promenades in a pathway of the
+park. From eleven to one he holds audience; luncheon at one; then he
+spends the time until half-past two with his family.”
+
+“What does he eat?”
+
+“Soup. His Majesty is wonderfully fond of soup. He takes it at every
+meal. After luncheon he smokes, but never a cigar--always cigarettes,
+gifts of the Sultan; and he only drinks one liqueur, Maraschino. At
+half-past two he goes out again for a little air--always in his park;
+then he sets himself to work until eight o’clock. It is simply frightful
+work, with heaps of useless papers and numberless signatures. No
+secretary can spare him that ungrateful bureaucratic duty. He must sign,
+sign, sign, and read, read, read the reports. And it is work without any
+beginning or end; as soon as some reports go, others arrive. At eight
+o’clock, dinner, and then more signatures, working right up to eleven
+o’clock. At eleven o’clock he goes to bed.”
+
+“And he sleeps to the rhythmical tramp of the guards on patrol,” added
+Rouletabille, bluntly.
+
+“O young man, young man!”
+
+“Pardon me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal,” said the reporter, rising; “I
+am, indeed, a disturbing spirit and I know that I have nothing more
+to do in this country. You will not see me any more, Monsieur le Grand
+Marechal; but before leaving I ought to tell you how much I have been
+touched by the hospitality of your great nation. That hospitality is
+sometimes a little dangerous, but it is always magnificent. No other
+nation in the world knows like the Russians how to receive a man, Your
+Excellency. I speak as I feel; and that isn’t affected by my manner of
+quitting you, for you know also how to put a man to the door. Adieu,
+then; without any rancor. My most respectful homage to His Majesty. Ah,
+just one word more! You will recall that Natacha Feodorovna was engaged
+to poor Boris Mourazoff, still another young man who has disappeared and
+who, before disappearing, charged me to deliver to General Trebassof’s
+daughter this last token--these two little ikons. I entrust you with
+this mission, Monsieur le Grand Marechal. Your servant, Excellency.”
+
+Rouletabille re-descended the great Kaniouche. “Now,” said he to
+himself, “it is my turn to buy farewell presents.” And he made his
+way slowly across la Place des Grandes-Ecuries and the bridge of the
+Katharine canal. He entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok and pushed open Pere
+Alexis’s door, under the arch, at the back of the obscure court.
+
+“Health and prosperity, Alexis Hutch!”
+
+“Ah, you again, little man! Well? Koupriane has let you know the result
+of my analyses?”
+
+“Yes, yes. Tell me, Alexis Hutch, you are sure you are not mistaken? You
+don’t think you might be mistaken? Think carefully before you answer. It
+is a question of life or death.”
+
+“For whom?”
+
+“For me.”
+
+“For you, good little friend! You want to make your old Pere Alexis
+laugh--or weep!”
+
+“Answer me.”
+
+“No, I couldn’t be mistaken. The thing is as certain as that we two are
+here--arsenate of soda in the stains on the two napkins and traces of
+arsenate of soda in two of the four glasses; none in the carafe, none
+in the little bottle, none in the two glasses. I say it before you and
+before God.”
+
+“So it is really true. Thank you, Alexis Hutch. Koupriane has not tried
+to deceive me. There has been nothing of that sort. Well, do you know,
+Alexis Hutch, who has poured the poison? It is she or I. And as it is
+not I, it is she. And since it is she, well, I am going to die!”
+
+“You love her, then?” inquired Pere Alexis.
+
+“No,” replied Rouletabille, with a self-mocking smile. “No, I don’t love
+her. But if it is she who poured the poison, then it was not Michael
+Nikolaievitch, and it is I who had Michael Nikolaievitch killed. You can
+see now that therefore I must die. Show me your finest images.
+
+“Ah, my little one, if you will permit your old Alexis to make you a
+gift, I would offer you these two poor ikons that are certainly from the
+convent of Troitza at its best period. See how beautiful they are, and
+old. Have you ever seen so beautiful a Mother of God? And this St.
+Luke, would you believe that the hand had been mended, eh? Two little
+masterpieces, little friend! If the old masters of Salonika returned to
+the world they would be satisfied with their pupils at Troitza. But you
+mustn’t kill yourself at your age!”
+
+“Come, bat ouclzka (little father), I accept your gift, and, if I meet
+the old Salonican masters on the road I am going to travel, I shan’t
+fail to tell them there is no person here below who appreciates them
+like a certain pere of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, Alexis Hutch.”
+
+So saying Rouletabille wrapped up the two little ikons and put them
+in his pocket. The Saint Luke would be sure to appeal to his friend
+Sainclair. As to the Mother of God, that would be his dying gift to the
+Dame en noir.
+
+“Ah, you are sad, little son; and your voice, as it sounds now, hurts
+me.”
+
+Rouletabille turned his head at the sound of two moujiks who entered,
+carrying a long basket.
+
+“What do you want?” demanded Pere Alexis in Russian, “and what is that
+you are bringing in? Do you intend to fill that huge basket with my
+goods? In that case you are very welcome and I am your humble servant.”
+
+But the two chuckled.
+
+“Yes, yes, we have come to rid your shop of a wretched piece of goods
+that litters it.”
+
+“What is this you say?” inquired the old man, anxiously, and drawing
+near Rouletabille. “Little friend, watch these men; I don’t recognize
+their faces and I can’t understand why they have come here.”
+
+Rouletabille looked at the new-comers, who drew near the counter, after
+depositing their long basket close to the door. There was a sarcastic
+and malicious mocking way about them that struck him from the first. But
+while they kept up their jabbering with Pere Alexis he filled his pipe
+and proceeded to light it. Just then the door was pushed open again and
+three men entered, simply dressed, like respectable small merchants.
+They also acted curiously and looked all around the shop. Pere Alexis
+grew more and more alarmed and the others pulled rudely at his beard.
+
+“I believe these men here have come to rob me,” he cried in French.
+“What do you say, my son?--Shall I call the police?”
+
+“Hold on,” replied Rouletabille impassively. “They are all armed; they
+have revolvers in their pockets.”
+
+Pere Alexis’s teeth commenced to chatter. As he tried to get near
+the door he was roughly pushed back and a final personage entered,
+apparently a gentleman, and dressed as such, save that he wore a visored
+leather cap.
+
+“Ah,” said he at once in French, “why, it is the young French journalist
+of the Grand-Morskaia Hotel. Salutations and your good health! I see
+with pleasure that you also appreciate the counsels of our dear Pere
+Alexis.”
+
+“Don’t listen to him, little friend; I don’t know him,” cried Alexis
+Hutch.
+
+But the gentleman of the Neva went on:
+
+“He is a man close to the first principles of science, and therefore not
+far from divine; he is a holy man, whom it is good to consult at moments
+when the future appears difficult. He knows how to read as no one else
+can--Father John of Cronstadt excepted, to be strictly accurate--on the
+sheets of bull-hide where the dark angels have traced mysterious signs
+of destiny.”
+
+Here the gentleman picked up an old pair of boots, which he threw on the
+counter in the midst of the ikons.
+
+“Pere Alexis, perhaps these are not bull-hide, but good enough cow-hide.
+Don’t you want to read on this cow-hide the future of this young man?”
+
+But here Rouletabille advanced to the gentleman, and blew an enormous
+cloud of smoke full in his face.
+
+“It is useless, monsieur,” said Rouletabille, “to waste your time and
+your breath. I have been waiting for you.”
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI. BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+
+Only, Rouletabille refused to be put into the basket. He would not let
+them disarm him until they promised to call a carriage. The Vehicle
+rolled into the court, and while Pere Alexis was kept back in his shop
+at the point of a revolver, Rouletabille quietly got in, smoking his
+pipe. The man who appeared to be the chief of the band (the gentleman of
+the Neva) got in too and sat down beside him. The carriage windows were
+shuttered, preventing all communication with the outside, and only a
+tiny lantern lighted the interior. They started. The carriage was driven
+by two men in brown coats trimmed with false astrakhan. The dvornicks
+saluted, believing it a police affair. The concierge made the sign of
+the cross.
+
+The journey lasted several hours without other incidents than those
+brought about by the tremendous jolts, which threw the two passengers
+inside one on top of the other. This might have made an opening for
+conversation; and the “gentleman of the Neva” tried it; but in vain.
+Rouletabille would not respond. At one moment, indeed, the gentleman,
+who was growing bored, became so pressing that the reporter finally said
+in the curt tone he always used when he was irritated:
+
+“I pray you, monsieur, let me smoke my pipe in peace.”
+
+Upon which the gentleman prudently occupied himself in lowering one of
+the windows, for it grew stifling.
+
+Finally, after much jolting, there was a stop while the horses
+were changed and the gentleman asked Rouletabille to let himself be
+blindfolded. “The moment has come; they are going to hang me without
+any form of trial,” thought the reporter, and when, blinded with the
+bandage, he felt himself lifted under the arms, there was revolt of his
+whole being, that being which, now that it was on the point of dying,
+did not wish to cease. Rouletabille would have believed himself
+stronger, more courageous, more stoical at least. But blind instinct
+swept all of this away, that instinct of conservation which had no
+concern with the minor bravadoes of the reporter, no concern with the
+fine heroic manner, of the determined pose to die finely, because
+the instinct of conservation, which is, as its rigid name indicates,
+essentially materialistic, demands only, thinks of nothing but, to live.
+And it was that instinct which made Rouletabille’s last pipe die out
+unpuffed.
+
+The young man was furious with himself, and he grew pale with the fear
+that he might not succeed in mastering this emotion, he took fierce
+hold of himself and his members, which had stiffened at the contact
+of seizure by rough hands, relaxed, and he allowed himself to be led.
+Truly, he was disgusted with his faintness and weakness. He had seen men
+die who knew they were going to die. His task as reporter had led him
+more than once to the foot of the guillotine. And the wretches he had
+seen there had died bravely. Extraordinarily enough, the most criminal
+had ordinarily met death most bravely. Of course, they had had leisure
+to prepare themselves, thinking a long time in advance of that supreme
+moment. But they affronted death, came to it almost negligently, found
+strength even to say banal or taunting things to those around them. He
+recalled above all a boy of eighteen years old who had cowardly murdered
+an old woman and two children in a back-country farm, and had walked to
+his death without a tremor, talking reassuringly to the priest and the
+police official, who walked almost sick with horror on either side of
+him. Could he, then, not be as brave as that child?
+
+They made him mount some steps and he felt that he had entered the
+stuffy atmosphere of a closed room. Then someone removed the bandage.
+He was in a room of sinister aspect and in the midst of a rather large
+company.
+
+Within these naked, neglected walls there were about thirty young men,
+some of them apparently quite as young as Rouletabille, with candid blue
+eyes and pale complexions. The others, older men, were of the physical
+type of Christs, not the animated Christs of Occidental painters, but
+those that are seen on the panels of the Byzantine school or fastened on
+the ikons, sculptures of silver or gold. Their long hair, deeply parted
+in the middle, fell upon their shoulders in curl-tipped golden masses.
+Some leant against the wall, erect, and motionless. Others were seated
+on the floor, their legs crossed. Most of them were in winter coats,
+bought in the bazaars. But there were also men from the country, with
+their skins of beasts, their sayons, their touloupes. One of them had
+his legs laced about with cords and was shod with twined willow twigs.
+The contrast afforded by various ones of these grave and attentive
+figures showed that representatives from the entire revolutionary party
+were present. At the back of the room, behind a table, three young men
+were seated, and the oldest of them was not more than twenty-five and
+had the benign beauty of Jesus on feast-days, canopied by consecrated
+palms.
+
+In the center of the room a small table stood, quite bare and without
+any apparent purpose.
+
+On the right was another table with paper, pens and ink-stands. It was
+there that Rouletabille was conducted and asked to be seated. Then he
+saw that another man was at his side, who was required to keep standing.
+His face was pale and desperate, very drawn. His eyes burned somberly,
+in spite of the panic that deformed his features Rouletabille recognized
+one of the unintroduced friends whom Gounsovski had brought with him to
+the supper at Krestowsky. Evidently since then the always-threatening
+misfortune had fallen upon him. They were proceeding with his trial. The
+one who seemed to preside over these strange sessions pronounced a name:
+
+“Annouchka!”
+
+A door opened, and Annouchka appeared.
+
+Rouletabille hardly recognized her, she was so strangely dressed,
+like the Russian poor, with her under-jacket of red-flannel and the
+handkerchief which, knotted under her chin, covered all her beautiful
+hair.
+
+She immediately testified in Russian against the man, who protested
+until they compelled him to be silent. She drew from her pocket papers
+which were read aloud, and which appeared to crush the accused. He
+fell back onto his seat. He shivered. He hid his head in his hands, and
+Rouletabille saw the hands tremble. The man kept that position while
+the other witnesses were heard, their testimony arousing murmurs of
+indignation that were quickly checked. Annouchka had gone to take her
+place with the others against the wall, in the shadows which more and
+more invaded the room, at this ending of a lugubrious day. Two windows
+reaching to the floor let a wan light creep with difficulty through
+their dirty panes, making a vague twilight in the room. Soon nothing
+could be seen of the motionless figures against the wall, much as the
+faces fade in the frescoes from which the centuries have effaced the
+colors in the depths of orthodox convents.
+
+Now someone from the depths of the shadow and the appalling silence read
+something; the verdict, doubtless.
+
+The voice ceased.
+
+Then some of the figures detached themselves from the wall and advanced.
+
+The man who crouched near Rouletabille rose in a savage bound and cried
+out rapidly, wild words, supplicating words, menacing words.
+
+And then--nothing more but strangling gasps. The figures that had moved
+out from the wall had clutched his throat.
+
+The reporter said, “It is cowardly.”
+
+Annouchka’s voice, low, from the depths of shadow, replied, “It is
+just.”
+
+But Rouletabille was satisfied with having said that, for he had proved
+to himself that he could still speak. His emotion had been such, since
+they had pushed him into the center of this sinister and expeditious
+revolutionary assembly of justice, that he thought of nothing but the
+terror of not being able to speak to them, to say something to them, no
+matter what, which would prove to them that he had no fear. Well, that
+was over. He had not failed to say, “That is cowardly.”
+
+And he crossed his arms. But he soon had to turn away his head in order
+not to see the use the table was put to that stood in the center of the
+room, where it had seemed to serve no purpose.
+
+They had lifted the man, still struggling, up onto the little table.
+They placed a rope about his neck. Then one of the “judges,” one of the
+blond young men, who seemed no older than Rouletabille, climbed on the
+table and slipped the other end of the rope through a great ring-bolt
+that projected from a beam of the ceiling. During this time the man
+struggled futilely, and his death-rattle rose at last though the
+continued noise of his resistance and its overcoming. But his last
+breath came with so violent a shake of the body that the whole
+death-apparatus, rope and ring-bolt, separated from the ceiling, and
+rolled to the ground with the dead man.
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry of horror. “You are assassins!” he cried.
+But was the man surely dead? It was this that the pale figures with the
+yellow hair set themselves to make sure of. He was. Then they brought
+two sacks and the dead man was slipped into one of them.
+
+Rouletabille said to them:
+
+“You are braver when you kill by an explosion, you know.”
+
+He regretted bitterly that he had not died the night before in the
+explosion. He did not feel very brave. He talked to them bravely enough,
+but he trembled as his time approached. That death horrified him. He
+tried to keep from looking at the other sack. He took the two ikons,
+of Saint Luke and of the Virgin, from his pocket and prayed to them. He
+thought of the Lady in Black and wept.
+
+A voice in the shadows said:
+
+“He is crying, the poor little fellow.”
+
+It was Annouchka’s voice.
+
+Rouletabille dried his tears and said:
+
+“Messieurs, one of you must have a mother.”
+
+But all the voices cried:
+
+“No, no, we have mothers no more!”
+
+“They have killed them,” cried some. “They have sent them to Siberia,”
+ cried others.
+
+“Well, I have a mother still,” said the poor lad. “I will not have the
+opportunity to embrace her. It is a mother that I lost the day of my
+birth and that I have found again, but--I suppose it is to be said--on
+the day of my death. I shall not see her again. I have a friend; I shall
+not see him again either. I have two little ikons here for them, and I
+am going to write a letter to each of them, if you will permit it. Swear
+to me that you will see these reach them.”
+
+“I swear it,” said, in French, the voice of Annouchka.
+
+“Thanks, madame, you are kind. And now, messieurs, that is all I ask of
+you. I know I am here to reply to very grave accusations. Permit me
+to say to you at once that I admit them all to be well founded.
+Consequently, there need be no discussion between us. I have deserved
+death and I accept it. So permit me not to concern myself with what will
+be going on here. I ask of you simply, as a last favor, not to hasten
+your preparations too much, so that I may be able to finish my letters.”
+
+Upon which, satisfied with himself this time, he sat down again and
+commenced to write rapidly. They left him in peace, as he desired. He
+did not raise his head once, even at the moment when a murmur louder
+than usual showed that the hearers regarded Rouletabille’s crimes with
+especial detestation. He had the happiness of having entirely completed
+his correspondence when they asked him to rise to hear judgment
+pronounced upon him. The supreme communion that he had just had with his
+friend Sainclair and with the dear Lady in Black restored all his spirit
+to him. He listened respectfully to the sentence which condemned him to
+death, though he was busy sliding his tongue along the gummed edge of
+his envelope.
+
+These were the counts on which he was to be hanged:
+
+   1. Because he had come to Russia and mixed in affairs that did not
+       concern his nationality, and had done this in spite of warning
+       to remain in France.
+
+   2. Because he had not kept the promises of neutrality he freely
+       made to a representative of the Central Revolutionary Committee.
+
+   3. For trying to penetrate the mystery of the Trebassof datcha.
+
+   4. For having Comrade Matiew whipped and imprisoned by Koupriane.
+
+   5. For having denounced to Koupriane the identity of the two
+       “doctors” who had been assigned to kill General Trebassof.
+
+   6. For having caused the arrest of Natacha Feodorovna.
+
+It was a list longer than was needed for his doom. Rouletabille kissed
+his ikons and handed them to Annouchka along with the letters. Then
+he declared, with his lips trembling slightly, and a cold sweat on his
+forehead, that he was ready to submit to his fate.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII. THE LAST CRAVAT
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him: “If you have nothing further to
+say, we will go into the courtyard.”
+
+Rouletabille understood at last that hanging him in the room where
+judgment had been pronounced was rendered impossible by the violence of
+the prisoner just executed. Not only the rope and the ring-bolt had been
+torn away, but part of the beam had splintered.
+
+“There is nothing more,” replied Rouletabille.
+
+He was mistaken. Something occurred to him, an idea flashed so suddenly
+that he became white as his shirt, and had to lean on the arm of the
+gentleman of the Neva in order to accompany him.
+
+The door was open. All the men who had voted his death filed out in
+gloomy silence. The gentleman of the Neva, who seemed charged with the
+last offices for the prisoner, pushed him gently out into the court.
+
+It was vast, and surrounded by a high board wall; some small buildings,
+with closed doors, stood to right and left. A high chimney, partially
+demolished, rose from one corner. Rouletabille decided the whole place
+was part of some old abandoned mill. Above his head the sky was pale as
+a winding sheet. A thunderous, intermittent, rhythmical noise appraised
+him that he could not be far from the sea.
+
+He had plenty of time to note all these things, for they had stopped
+the march to execution a moment and had made him sit down in the open
+courtyard on an old box. A few steps away from him under the shed where
+he certainly was going to be hanged, a man got upon a stool (the stool
+that would serve Rouletabille a few moments later) with his arm raised,
+and drove with a few blows of a mallet a great ring-bolt into a beam
+above his head.
+
+The reporter’s eyes, which had not lost their habit of taking everything
+in, rested again on a coarse canvas sack that lay on the ground. The
+young man felt a slight tremor, for he saw quickly that the sack swathed
+a human form. He turned his head away, but only to confront another
+empty sack that was intended for him. Then he closed his eyes. The sound
+of music came from somewhere outside, notes of the balalaika. He said to
+himself, “Well, we certainly are in Finland”; for he knew that, if the
+guzla is Russian the balalaika certainly is Finnish. It is a kind of
+accordeon that the peasants pick plaintively in the doorways of their
+toubas. He had seen and heard them the afternoon that he went to
+Pergalovo, and also a little further away, on the Viborg line. He
+pictured to himself the ruined structure where he now found himself shut
+in with the revolutionary tribunal, as it must appear from the outside
+to passers-by; unsinister, like many others near it, sheltering under
+its decaying roof a few homes of humble workers, resting now as they
+played the balalaika at their thresholds, with the day’s labor over.
+
+And suddenly from the ineffable peace of his last evening, while the
+balalaika mourned and the man overhead tested the solidity of his
+ring-bolt, a voice outside, the grave, deep voice of Annouchka, sang for
+the little Frenchman:
+
+    “For whom weave we now the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+     When my hand falls lingering down
+     Who then will bring your crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+
+     O that someone among you would hear,
+     And come, and my lonely hand
+     Would press, and shed the friendly tear--
+     For alone at the end I stand.
+
+     Who now will bring the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?”
+
+Rouletabille listened to the voice dying away with the last sob of the
+balalaika. “It is too sad,” he said, rising. “Let us go,” and he wavered
+a little.
+
+They came to search him. All was ready above. They pushed him gently
+towards the shed. When he was under the ring-bolt, near the stool, they
+made him turn round and they read him something in Russian, doubtless
+less for him than for those there who did not understand French.
+Rouletabille had hard work to hold himself erect.
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him further:
+
+“Monsieur, we now read you the final formula. It asks you to say
+whether, before you die, you have anything you wish to add to what we
+know concerning the sentence which has been passed upon you.”
+
+Rouletabille thought that his saliva, which at that moment he had the
+greatest difficulty in swallowing, would not permit him to utter a word.
+But disdain of such a weakness, when he recalled the coolness of so many
+illustrious condemned people in their last moments, brought him the last
+strength needed to maintain his reputation.
+
+“Why,” said he, “this sentence is not wrongly drawn up. I blame it
+only for being too short. Why has there been no mention of the crime I
+committed in contriving the tragic death of poor Michael Korsakoff?”
+
+“Michael Korsakoff was a wretch,” pronounced the vindictive voice of the
+young man who had presided at the trial and who, at this supreme moment,
+happened to be face to face with Rouletabille. “Koupriane’s police, by
+killing that man, ridded us of a traitor.”
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry, a cry of joy, and while he had some reason
+for believing that at the point he had reached now of his too-short
+career only misfortune could befall him, yet here Providence, in his
+infinite grace, sent him before he died this ineffable consolation: the
+certainty that he had not been mistaken.
+
+“Pardon, pardon,” he murmured, in an excess of joy which stifled him
+almost as much as the wretched rope would shortly do that they were
+getting ready behind him. “Pardon. One second yet, one little second.
+Then, messieurs, then, we are agreed in that, are we? This Michael,
+Michael Nikolaievitch was the the last of traitors.”
+
+“The first,” said the heavy voice.
+
+“It is the same thing, my dear monsieur. A traitor, a wretched traitor,”
+ continued Rouletabille.
+
+“A poisoner,” replied the voice.
+
+“A vulgar poisoner! Is that not so? But, tell me how--a vulgar poisoner
+who, under cover of Nihilism, worked for his own petty ends, worked for
+himself and betrayed you all!”
+
+Now Rouletabille’s voice rose like a fanfare. Someone said:
+
+“He did not deceive us long; our enemies themselves undertook his
+punishment.”
+
+“It was I,” cried Rouletabille, radiant again. “It was I who wound up
+that career. I tell you that was managed right. It was I who rid you of
+him. Ah, I knew well enough, messieurs, in the bottom of my heart I knew
+that I could not be mistaken. Two and two make four always, don’t they?
+And Rouletabille is always Rouletabille. Messieurs, it is all right,
+after all.”
+
+But it was probable that it was also all wrong, for the gentleman of the
+Neva came up to him hat in hand and said:
+
+“Monsieur, you know now why the witnesses at your trial did not raise a
+fact against you that, on the contrary, was entirely in your favor.
+Now it only remains for us to execute the sentence which is entirely
+justified on other grounds.”
+
+“Ah, but--wait a little. What the devil! Now that I am sure I have not
+been mistaken and that I have been myself, Rouletabille, all the time I
+cling to life a little--oh, very much!”
+
+A hostile murmur showed the condemned man that the patience of his
+judges was getting near its limit.
+
+“Monsieur,” interposed the president, “we know that you do not belong to
+the orthodox religion; nevertheless, we will bring a priest if you wish
+it.”
+
+“Yes, yes, that is it, go for the priest,” cried Rouletabille.
+
+And he said to himself, “It is so much time gained.”
+
+One of the revolutionaries started over to a little cabin that had been
+transformed into a chapel, while the rest of them looked at the reporter
+with a good deal less sympathy than they had been showing. If his
+bravado had impressed them agreeably in the trial room, they were
+beginning to be rather disgusted by his cries, his protestations and all
+the maneuvers by which he so apparently was trying to hold off the hour
+of his death.
+
+But all at once Rouletabille jumped up onto the fatal stool. They
+believed he had decided finally to make an end of the comedy and die
+with dignity; but he had mounted there only to give them a discourse.
+
+“Messieurs, understand me now. If it is true that you are not
+suppressing me in order to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch, then why do you
+hang me? Why do you inflict this odious punishment on me? Because you
+accuse me of causing Natacha Feodorovna’s arrest? Truly I have been
+awkward. Of that, and that alone, I accuse myself.”
+
+“It was you, with your revolver, who gave the signal to Koupriane’s
+agents! You have done the dirty work for the police.”
+
+Rouletabille tried vainly to protest, to explain, to say that his
+revolver shot, on the contrary, had saved the revolutionaries. But no
+one cared to listen and no one believed him.
+
+“Here is the priest, monsieur,” said the gentleman of the Neva.
+
+“One second! These are my last words, and I swear to you that after this
+I will pass the rope about my neck myself! But listen to me! Listen to
+me closely! Natacha Feodorovna was the most precious recruit you had,
+was she not?”
+
+“A veritable treasure,” declared the president, his voice more and more
+impatient.
+
+“It was a terrible blow, then,” continued the reporter, “a terrible blow
+for you, this arrest?”
+
+“Terrible,” some of them ejaculated.
+
+“Do not interrupt me! Very well, then, I am going to say this to you:
+‘If I ward off this blow--if, after having been the unintentional cause
+of Natacha’s arrest, I have the daughter of General Trebassof set at
+liberty, and that within twenty-four hours,--what do you say? Would you
+still hang me?’”
+
+The president, he who had the Christ-like countenance, said:
+
+“Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna has fallen the victim of terrible
+machinations whose mystery we so far have not been able to penetrate.
+She is accused of trying to poison her father and her step-mother,
+and under such conditions that it seems impossible for human reason to
+demonstrate the contrary. Natacha Feodorovna herself, crushed by the
+tragic occurrence, was not able to answer her accusers at all, and her
+silence has been taken for a confession of guilt. Messieurs, Natacha
+Feodorovna will be started for Siberia to-morrow. We can do nothing for
+her. Natacha Feodorovna is lost to us.”
+
+Then, with a gesture to those who surrounded Rouletabille:
+
+“Do your duty, messieurs.”
+
+“Pardon, pardon. But if I do prove the innocence of Natacha? Just
+wait, messieurs. There is only I who can prove that innocence! You lose
+Natacha by killing me!”
+
+“If you had been able to prove that innocence, monsieur, the thing would
+already be done. You would not have waited.”
+
+“Pardon, pardon. It is only at this moment that I have become able to do
+it.”
+
+“How is that?”
+
+“It is because I was sick, you see--very seriously sick. That affair of
+Michael Nikolaievitch and the poison that still continued after he was
+dead simply robbed me of all my powers. Now that I am sure I have not
+been the means of killing an innocent man--I am Rouletabille again!
+It is not possible that I shall not find the way, that I shall not see
+through this mystery.”
+
+The terrible voice of the Christ-like figure said monotonously:
+
+“Do your duty, messieurs.”
+
+“Pardon, pardon. This is of great importance to you--and the proof is
+that you have not yet hanged me. You were not so procrastinating with my
+predecessor, were you? You have listened to me because you have hoped!
+Very well, let me think, let me consider. Oh, the devil! I was there
+myself at the fatal luncheon, and I know better than anyone else all
+that happened there. Five minutes! I demand five minutes of you; it is
+not much. Five little minutes!”
+
+These last words of the condemned man seemed to singularly influence the
+revolutionaries. They looked at one another in silence.
+
+Then the president took out his watch and said:
+
+“Five minutes. We grant them to you.”
+
+“Put your watch here. Here on this nail. It is five minutes to seven,
+eh? You will give me until the hour?”
+
+“Yes, until the hour. The watch itself will strike when the hour has
+come.”
+
+“Ah, it strikes! Like the general’s watch, then. Very well, here we
+are.”
+
+Then there was the curious spectacle of Rouletabille standing on
+the hangman’s stool, the fatal rope hanging above his head, his legs
+crossed, his elbow on his knees in that eternal attitude which Art
+has always given to human thought, his fists under his jaws, his eyes
+fixed--all around him, all those young men intent on his silence, not
+moving a muscle, turned into statues themselves that they might not
+disturb the statue which thought and thought.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII. A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+
+The five minutes ticked away and the watch commenced to strike the
+hour’s seven strokes. Did it sound the death of Rouletabille? Perhaps
+not! For at the first silver tinkle they saw Rouletabille shake himself,
+and raise his head, with his face alight and his eyes shining. They saw
+him stand up, spread out his arms and cry:
+
+“I have found it!”
+
+Such joy shone in his countenance that there seemed to be an aureole
+around him, and none of those there doubted that he had the solution of
+the impossible problem.
+
+“I have found it! I have found it!”
+
+They gathered around him. He waved them away as in a waking dream.
+
+“Give me room. I have found it, if my experiment works out. One, two,
+three, four, five...”
+
+What was he doing? He counted his steps now, in long paces, as in
+dueling preliminaries. And the others, all of them, followed him in
+silence, puzzled, but without protest, as if they, too, were caught in
+the same strange day-dream. Steadily counting his steps he crossed
+thus the court, which was vast. “Forty, forty-one, forty-two,” he cried
+excitedly. “This is certainly strange, and very promising.”
+
+The others, although they did not understand, refrained from questioning
+him, for they saw there was nothing to do but let him go ahead without
+interruption, just as care is taken not to wake a somnambulist abruptly.
+They had no mistrust of his motives, for the idea was simply untenable
+that Rouletabille was fool enough to hope to save himself from them by
+an imbecile subterfuge. No, they yielded to the impression his
+inspired countenance gave them, and several were so affected that they
+unconsciously repeated his gestures. Thus Rouletabille reached the edge
+of the court where judgment had been pronounced against him. There he
+had to mount a rickety flight of stairs, whose steps he counted. He
+reached a corridor, but moving away from the side where the door was
+opening to the exterior he turned toward a staircase leading to the
+upper floor, and still counted the steps as he climbed them. Some of the
+company followed him, others hurried ahead of him. But he did not seem
+aware of either the one or the other, as he walked along living only
+in his thoughts. He reached the landing-place, hesitated, pushed open a
+door, and found himself in a room furnished with a table, two chairs,
+a mattress and a huge cupboard. He went to the cupboard, turned the key
+and opened it. The cupboard was empty. He closed it again and put the
+key in his pocket. Then he went out onto the landing-place again. There
+he asked for the key of the chamber-door he had just left. They gave it
+to him and he locked that door and put that key also in his pocket. Now
+he returned into the court. He asked for a chair. It was brought him.
+Immediately he placed his head in his hands, thinking hard, took the
+chair and carried it over a little behind the shed. The Nihilists
+watched everything he did and they did not smile, because men do not
+smile when death waits at the end of things, however foolish.
+
+Finally, Rouletabille spoke:
+
+“Messieurs,” said he, his voice low and shaken, because he knew that
+now he touched the decisive minute, after which there could only be an
+irrevocable fate. “Messieurs, in order to continue my experiment I am
+obliged to go through movements that might suggest to you the idea of an
+attempt at escape, or evasion. I hope you don’t regard me as fool enough
+to have any such thought.”
+
+“Oh, monsieur,” said the chief, “you are free to go through all the
+maneuvers you wish. No one escapes us. Outside we should have you
+within arm’s reach quite as well as here. And, besides, it is entirely
+impossible to escape from here.”
+
+“Very well. Then that is understood. In such a case, I ask you now to
+remain just where you are and not to budge, whatever I do, if you don’t
+wish to inconvenience me. Only please send someone now up to the next
+floor, where I am going to go again, and let him watch what happens from
+there, but without interfering. And don’t speak a word to me during the
+experiment.”
+
+Two of the revolutionaries went to the upper floor, and opened a window
+in order to keep track of what went on in the court. All now showed
+their intense interest in the acts and gestures of Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter placed himself in the shed, between his death-stool and his
+hanging-rope.
+
+“Ready,” said he; “I am going to begin”
+
+And suddenly he jumped like a wild man, crossed the court in a straight
+line like a flash, disappeared in the touba, bounded up the staircase,
+felt in his pocket and drew out the keys, opened the door of the chamber
+he had locked, closed it and locked it again, turned right-about-face,
+came down again in the same haste, reached the court, and this time
+swerved to the chair, went round it, still running, and returned at the
+same speed to the shed. He no sooner reached there than he uttered a cry
+of triumph as he glanced at the watch banging from a post. “I have won,”
+ he said, and threw himself with a happy thrill upon the fatal scaffold.
+They surrounded him, and he read the liveliest curiosity in all their
+faces. Panting still from his mad rush, he asked for two words apart
+with the chief of the Secret committee.
+
+The man who had pronounced judgment and who had the bearing of Jesus
+advanced, and there was a brief exchange of words between the two
+young men. The others drew back and waited at a distance, in impressive
+silence, the outcome of this mysterious colloquy, which certainly would
+settle Rouletabille’s fate.
+
+“Messieurs,” said the chief, “the young Frenchman is going to be allowed
+to leave. We give him twenty-four hours to set Natacha Feodorovna free.
+In twenty-four hours, if he has not succeeded, he will return here to
+give himself up.”
+
+A happy murmur greeted these words. The moment their chief spoke thus,
+they felt sure of Natacha’s fate.
+
+The chief added:
+
+“As the liberation of Natacha Feodorovna will be followed, the young
+Frenchman says, by that of our companion Matiew, we decide that, if
+these two conditions are fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille is allowed to
+return in entire security to France, which he ought never to have left.”
+
+Two or three only of the group said, “That lad is playing with us; it is
+not possible.”
+
+But the chief declared:
+
+“Let the lad try. He accomplishes miracles.”
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX. THE TSAR
+
+“I have escaped by remarkable luck,” cried Rouletabille, as he found
+himself, in the middle of the night, at the corner of the Katharine and
+the Aptiekarski Pereoulok Canals, while the mysterious carriage which
+had brought him there returned rapidly toward the Grande Ecurie. “What a
+country! What a country!”
+
+He ran a little way to the Grand Morskaia, which was near, entered the
+hotel like a bomb, dragged the interpreter from his bed, demanded that
+his bill be made out and that he be told the time of the next train for
+Tsarskoie-Coelo. The interpreter told him that he could not have his
+bill at such an hour, that he could not leave town without his passport
+and that there was no train for Tsarskoie-Coelo, and Rouletabille made
+an outcry that woke the whole hotel. The guests, fearing always “une
+scandale,” kept close to their rooms. But Monsieur le directeur came
+down, trembling. When he found all that it was about he was inclined to
+be peremptory, but Rouletabille, who had seen “Michael Strogoff” played,
+cried, “Service of the Tsar!” which turned him submissive as a sheep. He
+made out the young man’s bill and gave him his passport, which had been
+brought back by the police during the afternoon. Rouletabille rapidly
+wrote a message to Koupriane’s address, which the messenger was directed
+to have delivered without a moment’s delay, under the pain of death! The
+manager humbly promised and the reporter did not explain that by “pain
+of death” he referred to his own. Then, having ascertained that as a
+matter of fact the last train had left for Tsarskoie-Coelo, he ordered a
+carriage and hurried to his room to pack.
+
+And he, ordinarily so detailed, so particular in his affairs, threw
+things every which way, linen, garments, with kicks and shoves. It was
+a relief after the emotions he had gone through. “What a country!” he
+never ceased to ejaculate. “What a country!”
+
+Then the carriage was ready, with two little Finnish horses, whose gait
+he knew well, an evil-looking driver, who none the less would get him
+there; the trunk; roubles to the domestics. “Spacibo, barine. Spacibo.”
+ (Thank you, monsieur. Thank you.)
+
+The interpreter asked what address he should give the driver.
+
+“The home of the Tsar.”
+
+The interpreter hesitated, believing it to be an unbecoming pleasantry,
+then waved vaguely to the driver, and the horses started.
+
+“What a curious trot! We have no idea of that in France,” thought
+Rouletabille. “France! France! Paris! Is it possible that soon I shall
+be back! And that dear Lady in Black! Ah, at the first opportunity I
+must send her a dispatch of my return--before she receives those ikons,
+and the letters announcing my death. Scan! Scan! Scan! (Hurry!)”
+
+The isvotchick pounded his horses, crowding past the dvornicks who
+watched at the corners of the houses during the St. Petersburg night.
+“Dirigi! dirigi! dirigi! (Look out!)”
+
+The country, somber in the somber night. The vast open country. What
+monotonous desolation! Rapidly, through the vast silent spaces, the
+little car glided over the lonely route into the black arms of the
+pines.
+
+Rouletabille, holding on to his seat, looked about him.
+
+“God! this is as sad as a funeral display.”
+
+Little frozen huts, no larger than tombs, occasionally indicated the
+road, but there was no mark of life in that country except the noise of
+the journey and the two beasts with steaming coats.
+
+Crack! One of the shafts broken. “What a country!” To hear Rouletabille
+one would suppose that only in Russia could the shaft of a carriage
+break.
+
+The repair was difficult and crude, with bits of rope. And from then
+on the journey was slow and cautious after the frenzied speed. In vain
+Rouletabille reasoned with himself. “You will arrive anyway before
+morning. You cannot wake the Emperor in the dead of night.” His
+impatience knew no reason. “What a country! What a country!”
+
+After some other petty adventures (they ran into a ravine and
+had tremendous difficulty rescuing the trunk) they arrived at
+Tsarskoie-Coelo at a quarter of seven.
+
+Even here the country was not pleasant. Rouletabille recalled the bright
+awakening of French country. Here it seemed there was something more
+dead than death: it was this little city with its streets where no one
+passed, not a soul, not a phantom, with its houses so impenetrable,
+the windows even of glazed glass and further blinded by the morning
+hoar-frost shutting out light more thoroughly than closed eyelids.
+Behind them he pictured to himself a world unknown, a world which
+neither spoke nor wept, nor laughed, a world in which no living chord
+resounded. “What a country! ‘Where is the chateau? I do not know; I have
+been here only once, in the marshal’s carriage. I do not know the way.
+Not the great palace! The idiot of a driver has brought me to this great
+palace in order to see it, I haven’t a doubt. Does Rouletabille look
+like a tourist? Dourak! The home of the Tsar, I tell you. The Tsar’s
+residence. The place where the Little Father lives. Chez Batouchka!”
+
+The driver lashed his ponies. He drove past all the streets. “Stoi!
+(Stop!)” cried Rouletabille. A gate, a soldier, musket at shoulder,
+bayonet in play; another gate, another soldier, another bayonet; a park
+with walls around it, and around the walls more soldiers.
+
+“No mistake; here is the place,” thought Rouletabille. There was only
+one prisoner for whom such pains would be taken. He advanced towards the
+gate. Ah! They crossed bayonets under his nose. Halt! No fooling, Joseph
+Rouletabille, of “L’Epoque.” A subaltern came from a guard-house and
+advanced toward him. Explanation evidently was going to be difficult.
+The young man saw that if he demanded to see the Tsar, they would think
+him crazed and that would further complicate matters. He asked for the
+Grand-Marshal of the Court. They replied that he could get the Marshal’s
+address in Tsarskoie. But the subaltern turned his head. He saw someone
+advancing. It was the Grand-Marshal himself. Some exceptional service
+called him, without doubt, very early to the Court.
+
+“Why, what are you doing here? You are not yet gone then, Monsieur
+Rouletabille?”
+
+“Politeness before everything, Monsieur le Grand-Marechal! I would not
+go before saying ‘Au revoir’ to the Emperor. Be so good, since you are
+going to him and he has risen (you yourself have told me he rises at
+seven), be so good as to say to him that I wish to pay my respects
+before leaving.”
+
+“Your scheme, doubtless, is to speak to him once more regarding Natacha
+Feodorovna?”
+
+“Not at all. Tell him, Excellency, that I am come to explain the mystery
+of the eider downs.”
+
+“Ah, ah, the eider downs! You know something?”
+
+“I know all.”
+
+The Grand Marshal saw that the young man did not pretend. He asked him
+to wait a few minutes, and vanished into the park.
+
+A quarter of an hour later, Joseph Rouletabille, of the journal
+“L’Epoque,” was admitted into the cabinet that he knew well from the
+first interview he had had there with His Majesty. The simple work-room
+of a country-house: a few pictures on the walls, portraits of the
+Tsarina and the imperial children on the table; Oriental cigarettes in
+the tiny gold cups. Rouletabille was far from feeling any assurance, for
+the Grand-Marshal had said to him:
+
+“Be cautious. The Emperor is in a terrible humor about you.”
+
+A door opened and closed. The Tsar made a sign to the Marshal, who
+disappeared. Rouletabille bowed low, then watched the Emperor closely.
+
+Quite apparently His Majesty was displeased. The face of the Tsar,
+ordinarily so calm, so pleasant, and smiling, was severe, and his eyes
+had an angry light. He seated himself and lighted a cigarette.
+
+“Monsieur,” he commenced, “I am not otherwise sorry to see you before
+your departure in order to say to you myself that I am not at all
+pleased with you. If you were one of my subjects I would have already
+started you on the road to the Ural Mountains.”
+
+“I remove myself farther, Sire.”
+
+“Monsieur, I pray you not to interrupt me and not to speak unless I ask
+you a question.”
+
+“Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon.”
+
+“I am not duped by the pretext you have offered Monsieur le
+Grand-Marechal in order to penetrate here.”
+
+“It is not a pretext, Sire.”
+
+“Again!”
+
+“Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon.”
+
+“I say to you that, called here to aid me against my enemies, they
+themselves have not found a stronger or more criminal support than in
+you.”
+
+“Of what am I accused, Sire?”
+
+“Koupriane--”
+
+“Ah! Ah! ... Pardon!”
+
+“My Chief of Police justly complains that you have traversed all his
+designs and that you have taken it upon yourself to ruin them. First,
+you removed his agents, who inconvenienced you, it seems; then, the
+moment that he had the proof in hand of the abominable alliance of
+Natacha Feodorovna with the Nihilists who attempt the assassination of
+her father your intervention has permitted that proof to escape him. And
+you have boasted of the feat, monsieur, so that we can only consider you
+responsible for the attempts that followed.
+
+“Without you, Natacha would not have attempted to poison her father.
+Without you, they would not have sent to find physicians who could blow
+up the datcha des Iles. Finally, no later than yesterday, when this
+faithful servant of mine had set a trap they could not have escaped
+from, you have had the audacity, you, to warn them of it. They owe their
+escape to you. Monsieur, those are attempts against the security of the
+State which deserves the heaviest punishment. Why, you went out one day
+from here promising me to save General Trebassof from all the plotting
+assassins who lurked about him. And then you play the game of the
+assassins! Your conduct is as miserable as that of Natacha Feodorovna is
+monstrous!”
+
+The Emperor ceased, and looked at Rouletabille, who had not lowered his
+eyes.
+
+“What can you say for yourself? Speak--now.”
+
+“I can only say to Your Majesty that I come to take leave of you because
+my task here is finished. I have promised you the life of General
+Trebassof, and I bring it to you. He runs no danger any more! I say
+further to Your Majesty that there exists nowhere in the world a
+daughter more devoted to her father, even to the death, a daughter more
+sublime than Natacha Feodorovna, nor more innocent.”
+
+“Be careful, monsieur. I inform you that I have studied this affair
+personally and very closely. You have the proofs of these statements you
+advance?”
+
+“Yes, Sire.”
+
+“And I, I have the proofs that Natacha Feodorovna is a renegade.”
+
+At this contradiction, uttered in a firm voice, the Emperor stirred,
+a flush of anger and of outraged majesty in his face. But, after this
+first movement, he succeeded in controlling himself, opened a drawer
+brusquely, took out some papers and threw them on the table.
+
+“Here they are.”
+
+Rouletabille reached for the papers.
+
+“You do not read Russian, monsieur. I will translate their purport for
+you. Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of letters
+between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary Committee,
+and that these letters show the daughter of General Trebassof to be in
+perfect accord with the assassins of her father for the execution of
+their abominable project.”
+
+“The death of the general?”
+
+“Exactly.”
+
+“I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible.”
+
+“Obstinate man! I will read--”
+
+“Useless, Sire. It is impossible. There may be in them the question of
+a project, but I am greatly surprised if these conspirators have been
+sufficiently imprudent to write in those letters that they count on
+Natacha to poison her father.”
+
+“That, as a matter of fact, is not written, and you yourself are
+responsible for it not being there. It does not follow any the less that
+Natacha Feodorovna had an understanding with the Nihilists.”
+
+“That is correct, Sire.”
+
+“Ah, you confess that?”
+
+“I do not confess; I simply affirm that Natacha had an understanding
+with the Nihilists.”
+
+“Who plotted their abominable attacks against the ex-Governor of
+Moscow.”
+
+“Sire, since Natacha had an understanding with the Nihilists, it was not
+to kill her father, but to save him. And the project of which you hold
+here the proofs, but of whose character you are unaware, is to end the
+attacks of which you speak, instantly.”
+
+“You say that.”
+
+“I speak the truth, Sire.”
+
+“Where are the proofs? Show me your papers.”
+
+“I have none. I have only my word.”
+
+“That is not sufficient.”
+
+“It will be sufficient, once you have heard me.”
+
+“I listen.”
+
+“Sire, before revealing to you a secret on which depends the life of
+General Trebassof, you must permit me some questions. Your Majesty holds
+the life of the general very dear?”
+
+“What has that to do with it?”
+
+“Pardon. I desire that Your Majesty assure me on that point.”
+
+“The general has protected my throne. He has saved the Empire from one
+of the greatest dangers that it has ever run. If the servant who has
+done such a service should be rewarded by death, by the punishment that
+the enemies of my people prepare for him in the darkness, I should never
+forgive myself. There have been too many martyrs already!”
+
+“You have replied to me, Sire, in such a way that you make me understand
+there is no sacrifice--even to the sacrifice of your amour-propre the
+greatest a ruler can suffer--no sacrifice too dear to ransom from death
+one of these martyrs.”
+
+“Ah, ah! These gentlemen lay down conditions to me! Money. Money. They
+need money. And at how much do they rate the head of the general?”
+
+“Sire, that does not touch Your Majesty, and I never will come to offer
+you such a bargain. That matter concerns only Natacha Feodorovna, who
+has offered her fortune!”
+
+“Her fortune! But she has nothing.”
+
+“She will have one at the death of the general. Now she engages to give
+it all to the Revolutionary Committee the day the general dies--if he
+dies a natural death!”
+
+The Emperor rose, greatly agitated.
+
+“To the Revolutionary Party! What do you tell me! The fortune of the
+general! Eh, but these are great riches.”
+
+“Sire, I have told you the secret. You alone should know it and guard it
+forever, and I have your sacred word that, when the hour comes, you will
+let the prize go where it is promised. If the general ever learns of
+such a thing, such a treaty, he would easily arrange that nothing should
+remain, and he would denounce his daughter who has saved him, and then
+he would promptly be the prey of his enemies and yours, from whom you
+wish to save him. I have told the secret not to the Emperor, but to the
+representative of God on the Russian earth. I have confessed it to the
+priest, who is bound to forget the words uttered only before God. Allow
+Natacha Feodorovna her own way, Sire! And her father, your servant,
+whose life is so dear to you, is saved. At the natural death of the
+general his fortune will go to his daughter, who has disposed of it.”
+
+Rouletabille stopped a moment to judge of the effect produced. It was
+not good. The face of his august listener was more and more in a frown.
+
+The silence continued, and now the reporter did not dare to break it. He
+waited.
+
+Finally, the Emperor rose and walked forward and backward across the
+room, deep in thought. For a moment he stopped at the window and waved
+paternally to the little Tsarevitch, who played in the park with the
+grand-duchesses.
+
+Then he returned to Rouletabille and pinched his ear.
+
+“But, tell me, how have you learned all this? And who then has poisoned
+the general and his wife, in the kiosk, if not Natacha?”
+
+“Natacha is a saint. It is nothing, Sire, that she has been raised in
+luxury, and vows herself to misery; but it is sublime that she guards
+in her heart the secret of her sacrifice from everyone, and, in spite of
+all, because secrecy is necessary and has been required of her. See her
+guarding it before her father, who has been brought to believe in the
+dishonor of his daughter, and still to be silent when a word would have
+proved her innocent; guarding it face to face with her fiance, whom she
+loves, and repulses because marriage is forbidden to the girl who is
+supposed to be rich and who will be poor; guarding it, above all--and
+guarding it still--in the depths of the dungeon, and ready to take the
+road to Siberia under the accusation of assassination, because that
+ignominy is necessary for the safety of her father. That, Sire--oh,
+Sire, do you see!”
+
+“But you, how have you been able to penetrate into this guarded secret?”
+
+“By watching her eyes. By observing, when she believed herself alone,
+the look of terror and the gleams of love. And, beyond all, by looking
+at her when she was looking at her father. Ah, Sire, there were moments
+when on her mystic face one could read the wild joy and devotion of the
+martyr. Then, by listening and by piecing together scraps of phrases
+inconsistent with the idea of treachery, but which immediately acquired
+meaning if one thought of the opposite, of sacrifice. Ah, that is it,
+Sire! Consider always the alternative motive. What I finally could see
+myself, the others, who had a fixed opinion about Natacha, could not
+see. And why had they their fixed opinion? Simply because the idea of
+compromise with the Nihilists aroused at once the idea of complicity!
+For such people it is always the same thing--they never can see but
+the one side of the situation. But, nevertheless, the situation had two
+sides, as all situations have. The question was simple. The compromise
+was certain. But why had Natacha compromised herself with the Nihilists?
+Was it necessarily in order to lose her father? Might it not be, on the
+contrary, in order to save him? When one has rendezvous with an enemy it
+is not necessarily to enter into his game, sometimes it is to disarm
+him with an offer. Between these two hypotheses, which I alone took the
+trouble to examine, I did not hesitate long, because Natacha’s every
+attitude proclaimed her innocence: and her eyes, Sire, in which one
+read purity and love, prevailed always with me against all the passing
+appearances of disgrace and crime.
+
+“I saw that Natacha negotiated with them. But what had she to place in
+the scales against the life of her father? Nothing--except the fortune
+that she would have one day.
+
+“Some words she spoke about the impossibility of immediate marriage,
+about poverty which could always knock at the door of any mansion,
+remarks that I was able to overhear between Natacha and Boris Mourazoff,
+which to him meant nothing, put me definitely on the right road. And I
+was not long in ascertaining that the negotiations in this formidable
+affair were taking place in the very house of Trebassof! Pursued without
+by the incessant spying of Koupriane, who sought to surprise her
+in company with the Nihilists, watched closely, too, by the jealous
+supervision of Boris, who was jealous of Michael Nikolaievitch, she
+had to seize the only opportunities possible for such negotiations, at
+night, in her own home, the sole place where, by the very audacity of
+it, she was able to play her part in any security.
+
+“Michael Nikolaievitch knew Annouchka. There was certainly the point of
+departure for the negotiations which that felon-officer, traitor to
+all sides, worked at will toward the realization of his own infamous
+project. I do not think that Michael ever confided to Natacha that
+he was, from the very first, the instrument of the revolutionaries.
+Natacha, who sought to get in touch with the revolutionary party, had
+to entrust him with a correspondence for Annouchka, following which he
+assumed direction of the affair, deceiving the Nihilists, who, in
+their absolute penury, following the revolt, had been seduced by the
+proposition of General Trebassof’s daughter, and deceiving Natacha,
+whom he pretended to love and by whom he believed himself loved. At this
+point in the affair Natacha came to understand that it was necessary to
+propitiate Michael Nikolaievitch, her indispensable intermediary, and
+she managed to do it so well that Boris Mourazoff felt the blackest
+jealousy. On his side, Michael came to believe that Natacha would
+have no other husband than himself, but he did not propose to marry a
+penniless girl! And, fatally, it followed that Natacha, in that infernal
+intrigue, negotiated for the life of her father through the agency of a
+man who, underhandedly, sought to strike at the general himself, because
+the immediate death of her father before the negotiation was completed
+would enrich Natacha, who had given Michael so much to hope. That
+frightful tragedy, Sire, in which we have lived our most painful hours,
+appeared to me, confident of Natacha’s innocence, as absolutely simple
+as for the others it seemed complicated. Natacha believed she had in
+Michael Nikolaievitch a man who worked for her, but he worked only for
+himself. The day that I was convinced of it, Sire, by my examination of
+the approach to the balcony, I had a mind to warn Natacha, to go to her
+and say, ‘Get rid of that man. He will betray you. If you need an agent,
+I am at your service.’ But that day, at Krestowsky, destiny prevented my
+rejoining Natacha; and I must attribute it to destiny, which would not
+permit the loss of that man. Michael Nikolaievitch, who was a traitor,
+was too much in the ‘combination,’ and if he had been rejected he would
+have ruined everything. I caused him to disappear! The great misfortune
+then was that Natacha, holding me responsible for the death of a man she
+believed innocent, never wished to see me again, and, when she did see
+me, refused to have any conversation with me because I proposed that I
+take Michael’s place for her with the revolutionaries. She would have
+nothing to do with me in order to protect her secret. Meantime, the
+Nihilists believed they were betrayed by Natacha when they learned of
+the death of Michael, and they undertook to avenge him. They seized
+Natacha, and bore her off by force. The unhappy girl learned then, that
+same evening, of the attack which destroyed the datcha and, happily,
+still spared her father. This time she reached a definite understanding
+with the revolutionary party. Her bargain was made. I offer you for
+proof of it only her attitude when she was arrested, and, even in that
+moment, her sublime silence.”
+
+While Rouletabille urged his view, the Emperor let him talk on and on,
+and now his eyes were dim.
+
+“Is it possible that Natacha has not been the accomplice, in all, of
+Michael Nikolaievitch?” he demanded. “It was she who opened her father’s
+house to him that night. If she was not his accomplice she would have
+mistrusted him, she would have watched him.”
+
+“Sire, Michael Nikolaievitch was a very clever man. He knew so well how
+to play upon Natacha, and Annouchka, in whom she placed all her hope.
+It was from Annouchka that she wished to hold the life of her father. It
+was the word, the signature of Annouchka that she demanded before giving
+her own. The evening Michael Nikolaievitch died, he was charged to bring
+her that signature. I know it, myself, because, pretending drunkenness,
+I was able to overhear enough of a conversation between Annouchka and
+a man whose name I must conceal. Yes, that last evening, Michael
+Nikolaievitch, when he entered the datcha, had the signature in his
+pocket, but also he carried the weapon or the poison with which he
+already had attempted and was resolved to reach the father of her whom
+he believed was assuredly to be his wife.”
+
+“You speak now of a paper, very precious, that I regret not to possess,
+monsieur,” said the Tsar coldly, “because that paper alone would have
+proved to me the innocence of your protegee.”
+
+“If you have not it, Sire, you know well that it is because I have
+wished you to have it. The corpse had been searched by Katharina, the
+little Bohemian, and I, Sire, prevented Koupriane from finding that
+signature in Katharina’s possession. In saving the secret I have saved
+General Trebassof’s life, who would have preferred to die rather than
+accept such an arrangement.”
+
+The Tsar stopped Rouletabille in his enthusiastic outburst.
+
+“All that would be very beautiful and perhaps admirable,” said he, more
+and more coldly, because he had entirely recovered himself, “if Natacha
+had not, herself, with her own hand, poisoned her father and her
+step-mother!--always with arsenate of soda.”
+
+“Oh, some of that had been left in the house,” replied Rouletabille.
+“They had not given me all of it for the analysis after the first
+attempt. But Natacha is innocent of that, Sire. I swear it to you. As
+true as that I have certainly escaped being hanged.”
+
+“How, hanged?”
+
+“Oh, it has not amounted to much now, Your Majesty.”
+
+And Rouletabille recounted his sinister adventure, up to the moment
+of his death, or, rather, up to the moment when he had believed he was
+going to die.
+
+The Emperor listened to the young reporter with complete stupefaction.
+He murmured, “Poor lad!” then, suddenly:
+
+“But how have you managed to escape them?”
+
+“Sire they have given me twenty-four hours for you to set Natacha at
+liberty, that is to say, that you restore her to her rights, all her
+rights, and she be always the recognized heiress of Trebassof. Do you
+understand me, Sire?
+
+“I will understand you, perhaps, when you have explained to me how
+Natacha has not poisoned her father and step-mother.”
+
+“There are some things so simple, Sire, that one is able to think of
+them only with a rope around one’s neck. But let us reason it out. We
+have here four persons, two of whom have been poisoned and the other two
+with them have not been. Now, it is certain that, of the four persons,
+the general has not wished to poison himself, that his wife has not
+wished to poison the general, and that, as for me, I have not wished
+to poison anybody. That, if we are absolutely sure of it, leaves as the
+poisoner only Natacha. That is so certain, so inevitable, that there is
+only one case, one alone, where, in such conditions, Natacha would not
+be regarded as the poisoner.”
+
+“I confess that, logically, I do not see,” said the Tsar, “anything
+beyond that but more and more of a tangle. What is it?”
+
+“Logically, the only case would be that where no one had been poisoned,
+that is to say, where no one had taken any poison.”
+
+“But the presence of the poison has been established!” cried the
+Emperor.
+
+“Still, the presence of the poison proves only its presence, not the
+crime. Both poison and ipecac were found in the stomach expulsions. From
+which a crime has been concluded. What state of affairs was necessary
+for there to have been no crime? Simply that the poison should have
+appeared in the expulsions after the ipecac. Then there would have been
+no poisoning, but everyone would believe there had been. And, for that,
+someone would have poured the poison into the expulsions.”
+
+The Tsar never quitted Rouletabille’s eyes.
+
+“That is extraordinary,” said he. “But of course it is possible. In any
+case, it is still only an hypothesis.
+
+“And so long as it could be an hypothesis that no one thought of, it
+could be just that, Sire. But if I am here, it is because I have the
+proof that that hypothesis corresponds to the reality. That necessary
+proof of Natacha’s innocence, Your Majesty, I have found with the
+rope around my neck. Ah, I tell you it was time! What has hindered
+us hitherto, I do not say to realize, but even to think, of that
+hypothesis? Simply that we thought the illness of the general had
+commenced before the absorption of the ipecac, since Matrena Petrovna
+had been obliged to go for it to her medicine-closet after his illness
+commenced, in order to counteract the poison of which she also appeared
+to be the victim.
+
+“But, if I acquire proof that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac at
+hand before the sickness, my hypothesis of pretense at poisoning has
+irresistible force. Because, if it was not to use it before, why did she
+have it with her before? And if it was not that she wished to hide the
+fact that she had used it before, why did she wish to make believe that
+she went to find it afterwards?
+
+“Then, in order to show Natacha’s innocence, here is what must be
+proved: that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac on her, even when she went
+to look for it.”
+
+“Young Rouletabille, I hardly breathe,” said the Tsar.
+
+“Breathe, Sire. The proof is here. Matrena Petrovna necessarily had the
+ipecac on her, because after the sickness she had not the time for going
+to find it. Do you understand, Sire? Between the moment when she fled
+from the kiosk and when she returned there, she had not the actual time
+to go to her medicine-closet to find the ipecac.”
+
+“How have you been able to compute the time?” asked the Emperor.
+
+“Sire, the Lord God directed, Who made me admire Feodor Feodorovitch’s
+watch just when we went to read, and to read on the dial of that watch
+two minutes to the hour, and the Lord God directed yet, Who, after the
+scene of the poison, at the time Matrena returned carrying the ipecac
+publicly, made the hour strike from that watch in the general’s pocket.
+
+“Two minutes. It was impossible for Matrena to have covered that
+distance in two minutes. She could only have entered the deserted datcha
+and left it again instantly. She had not taken the trouble to mount to
+the floor above, where, she told us and repeated when she returned, the
+ipecac was in the medicine-closet. She lied! And if she lied, all is
+explained.
+
+“It was the striking of a watch, Sire, with a striking apparatus and a
+sound like the general’s, there in the quarters of the revolutionaries,
+that roused my memory and indicated to me in a second this argument of
+the time.
+
+“I got down from my gallows-scaffold, Your Majesty, to experiment on
+that time-limit. Oh, nothing and nobody could have prevented my making
+that experiment before I died, to prove to myself that Rouletabille had
+all along been right. I had studied the grounds around the datcha enough
+to be perfectly exact about the distances. I found in the court where I
+was to be hanged the same number of steps that there were from the
+kiosk to the steps of the veranda, and, as the staircase of the
+revolutionaries had fewer steps, I lengthened my journey a few steps by
+walking around a chair. Finally, I attended to the opening and closing
+of the doors that Matrena would have had to do. I had looked at a watch
+when I started. When I returned, Sire, and looked at the watch again, I
+had taken three minutes to cover the distance--and it is not for me to
+boast, but I am a little livelier than the excellent Matrena.
+
+“Matrena had lied. Matrena had simulated the poisoning of the general.
+Matrena had coolly poured ipecac in the general’s glass while we were
+illustrating with matches a curious-enough theory of the nature of the
+constitution of the empire.”
+
+“But this is abominable!” cried the Emperor, this time definitely
+convinced by the intricate argument of Rouletabille. “And what end could
+this imitation serve?’”
+
+“The end of preventing the real crime! The end that she believed herself
+to have attained, Sire, to have Natacha removed forever--Natacha whom
+she believed capable of any crime.”
+
+“Oh, it is monstrous! Feodor Feodorovitch has often told me that Matrena
+loved Natacha sincerely.”
+
+“She loved her sincerely up to the day that she believed her
+guilty. Matrena Petrovna was sure of Natacha’s complicity in Michael
+Nikolaievitch’s attempt to poison the general. I shared her stupor, her
+despair, when Feodor Feodorovitch took his daughter in his arms after
+that tragic night, and embraced her. He seemed to absolve her. It was
+then that Matrena resolved within herself to save the general in spite
+of himself, but I remain persuaded that, if she had dared such a plan
+against Natacha, it would only be because of what she believed definite
+proof of her step-daughter’s infamy. These papers, Sire, that you have
+shown me, and which show, if nothing more, an understanding between
+Natacha and the revolutionaries, could only have been in the possession
+of Michael or of Natacha. Nothing was found in Michael’s quarters. Tell
+me, then, that Matrena found them in Natacha’s apartment. Then, she did
+not hesitate!”
+
+“If one outlined her crime to her, do you believe she would confess it?”
+asked the Emperor.
+
+“I am so sure of it that I have had her brought here. By now Koupriane
+should be here at the chateau, with Matrena Petrovna.”
+
+“You think of everything, monsieur.”
+
+The Tsar moved to ring a bell. Rouletabille raised his hand.
+
+“Not yet, Sire. I ask that you permit me not to be present at the
+confusion of that brave, heroic, good woman who has loved me much. But
+before I go, Sire--do you promise me?”
+
+The Emperor believed he had not heard correctly or did not grasp the
+meaning. He repeated what Rouletabille had said. The young reporter
+repeated it once more:
+
+“Do you promise? No, Sire, I am not mad. I dare to ask you that. I have
+confided my honor to Your Majesty. I have told you Natacha’s secret.
+Well, now, before Matrena’s confession, I dare to ask you: Promise me
+to forget that secret. It will not suffice merely to give Natacha back
+again to her father. It is necessary to leave her course open to her--if
+you really wish to save General Trebassof. What do you decide, Sire?”
+
+“It is the first time anyone has questioned me, monsieur.”
+
+“Ah, well, it will be the last. But I humbly beg Your Majesty to reply.”
+
+“That would be many millions given to the Revolution.”
+
+“Oh, Sire, they are not given yet. The general is sixty-five, but he has
+many years ahead of him, if you wish it. By the time he dies--a natural
+death, if you wish it--your enemies will have disarmed.”
+
+“My enemies!” murmured the Tsar in a low voice. “No, no; my enemies
+never will disarm. Who, then, will be able to disarm them?” added he,
+melancholily, shaking his head.
+
+“Progress, Sire! If you wish it.”
+
+The Tsar turned red and looked at the audacious young man, who met the
+gaze of His Majesty frankly.
+
+“It is kind of you to say that, my young friend. But you speak as a
+child.”
+
+“As a child of France to the Father of the Russian people.”
+
+It was said in a voice so solemn and, at the same time, so naively
+touching, that the Tsar started. He gazed again for some time in silence
+at this boy who, this time, turned away his brimming eyes.
+
+“Progress and pity, Sire.”
+
+“Well,” said the Emperor, “it is promised.”
+
+Rouletabille was not able to restrain a joyous movement hardly in
+keeping.
+
+“You can ring now, Sire.”
+
+And the Tsar rang.
+
+The reporter passed into a little salon, where he found the Marshal,
+Koupriane and Matrena Petrovna, who was “in a state.”
+
+She threw a suspicious glance at Rouletabille, who was not treated this
+morning as the dear little domovoi-doukh. She permitted herself to be
+conducted, already trembling, before the Emperor.
+
+“What happened?” asked Koupriane agitatedly.
+
+“It so happened, my dear Monsieur Koupriane, that I have the pardon of
+the Emperor for all the crimes you have charged against me, and that I
+wish to shake hands before I go, without any rancor. Monsieur Koupriane,
+the Emperor will tell you himself that General Trebassof is saved,
+and that his life will never be in danger any more. Do you know what
+follows? It follows that you must at once set Matiew free, whom I have
+taken, if you remember, under my protection. Tell him that he is going
+to make his way in France. I will find him a place on condition that he
+forgets certain lashes.”
+
+“Such a promise! Such an attitude toward me!” cried Koupriane. “But I
+will wait for the Emperor to tell me all these fine things. And your
+Natacha, what do you do with her?”
+
+“We release her also, monsieur. Natacha never has been the monster that
+you think.”
+
+“How can you say that? Someone at least is guilty.”
+
+“There are two guilty. The first, Monsieur le Marechal.”
+
+“What!” cried the Marshal.
+
+“Monsieur le Marechal, who had the imprudence to bring such dangerous
+grapes to the datcha des Iles, and--and--”
+
+“And the other?” asked Koupriane, more and more anxiously.
+
+“Listen there,” said Rouletabille, pointing toward the Emperor’s
+cabinet.
+
+The sound of tears and sobs reached them. The grief and the remorse
+of Matrena Petrovna passed the walls of the cabinet. Koupriane was
+completely disconcerted.
+
+Suddenly the Emperor appeared. He was in a state of exaltation such as
+had never been known in him. Koupriane, dismayed, drew back.
+
+“Monsieur,” said the Tsar to him, “I require that Natacha Feodorovna
+be here within the next two hours, and that she be conducted with the
+honors due to her rank. Natacha is innocent, and we must make reparation
+to her.”
+
+Then, turning toward Rouletabille:
+
+“I have learned what she knows and what she owes to you--we owe to you,
+my young friend.”
+
+The Tsar said “my young friend.” Rouletabille, at this last moment
+before his departure, spoke Russian?
+
+“Then she knows nothing, Sire. That is better, Sire, because Your
+Majesty and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know anything.”
+
+“You are right,” said the Tsar thoughtfully. “But, my friend, what am I
+to do for you?”
+
+“Sire, one favor. Do not let me miss the train at 10:55.”
+
+And he threw himself on his knees.
+
+“Remain on your knees, my friend. You are ready, thus. Monsieur le
+Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately sign.
+Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet, one of my St.
+Anne’s collars.”
+
+And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of “L’Epoque,” was created
+officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him the
+accolade.
+
+“They combine the whole course of time in this country,” thought
+Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.
+
+For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo
+station. Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the young
+reporter’s hand when they learned of his impending departure were
+Ivan Petrovitch, the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and Athanase
+Georgevitch, the lively advocate so well known for his famous exploits
+with knife and fork. They had come naturally with all their bandages and
+dressings, which made them look like glorious ruins. They brought the
+greetings of Feodor Feodorovitch, who still had a little fever, and of
+Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the Lithuanian, who had both legs broken.
+
+Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his last
+drink of champagne. When nothing remained in the bottle and everyone
+had embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not start quite yet,
+Athanase Georgevitch opened a second “last” bottle. It was then that
+Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath. They invited him
+to drink, and he accepted. But he had need to speak to Rouletabille in
+private, and he drew the reporter, after excuses, out into the corridor.
+
+“It is the Emperor himself who has sent me,” said the high dignitary
+with emotion. “He has sent me about the eider downs. You forgot to
+explain the eider downs to him.”
+
+“Niet!” replied Rouletabille, laughing. “That is nothing. Nitchevo! His
+Majesty’s eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the feathers
+that you have shown me demonstrates. Well, open them now. They are a
+cheap imitation, as the second feather proves. The return of the
+false eider downs, before evening, proves then that they hoped the
+substitution would pass undetected. That is all. Caracho! Collapse of
+the hoax. Your health! Vive le Tsar!”
+
+“Caracho! Caracho!”
+
+The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man and a
+woman. It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.
+
+Gounsovski stood on the running-board.
+
+“Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands. You are very
+congenial.”
+
+“Compliments, madame.”
+
+“Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house
+yesterday.”
+
+“I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into
+Finland. I do not regret it, monsieur.”
+
+The train trembled and moved. They cried, “Vive la France! Vive la
+Russe!” Athanase Georgevitch wept. Matrena Petrovna, at a window of the
+station, whither she had timidly retired, waved a handkerchief to the
+little domovoi-doukh, who had made her see everything in the right
+light, and whom she did not dare to embrace after the terrible affair of
+the false poison and the Tsar’s anger.
+
+The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.
+
+As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.
+
+All the same, as the train took its way toward the frontier,
+Rouletabille threw himself back on the cushions, and said:
+
+“Ouf!”
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
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+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Secret of the Night
+
+Author: Gaston Leroux
+
+Release Date: November 20, 2008 [EBook #1686]
+[Last updated: September 12, 2017]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Gaston Leroux
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT</b></big>
+        </a><br /> <br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;GAYETY
+        AND DYNAMITE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;NATACHA
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE WATCH
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"THE YOUTH OF
+        MOSCOW IS DEAD&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BY
+        ROULETABILLE&rsquo;S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE MYSTERIOUS HAND <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;ARSENATE OF SODA <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE
+        GUARDS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;ANNOUCHKA
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A DRAMA IN THE
+        NIGHT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        POISON CONTINUES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;PERE
+        ALEXIS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        LIVING BOMBS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        MARSHES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"I HAVE
+        BEEN WAITING FOR YOU&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEFORE
+        THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVII.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE LAST CRAVAT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0020">
+        XVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE TSAR <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      I. GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;BARINIA, the young stranger has arrived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he is waiting at the lodge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you to show him to Natacha&rsquo;s sitting-room. Didn&rsquo;t you understand
+      me, Ermolai?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, Barinia, but the young stranger, when I asked to search him, as
+      you directed, flatly refused to let me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you explain to him that everybody is searched before being allowed to
+      enter, that it is the order, and that even my mother herself has submitted
+      to it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told him all that, Barinia; and I told him about madame your mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say to that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That he was not madame your mother. He acted angry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, let him come in without being searched.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Chief of Police won&rsquo;t like it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do as I say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden. The &ldquo;barinia&rdquo; left the veranda,
+      where she had come for this conversation with the old servant of General
+      Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the dining-room in the datcha des
+      Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan Petrovitch was regaling his amused
+      associates with his latest exploit at Cubat&rsquo;s resort. They were a noisy
+      company, and certainly the quietest among them was not the general, who
+      nursed on a sofa the leg which still held him captive after the recent
+      attack, that to his old coachman and his two piebald horses had proved
+      fatal. The story of the always-amiable Ivan Petrovitch (a lively, little,
+      elderly man with his head bald as an egg) was about the evening before.
+      After having, as he said, &ldquo;recure la bouche&rdquo; for these gentlemen spoke
+      French like their own language and used it among themselves to keep their
+      servants from understanding&mdash;after having wet his whistle with a
+      large glass of sparkling rosy French wine, he cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would have laughed, Feodor Feodorovitch. We had sung songs on the
+      Barque* and then the Bohemians left with their music and we went out onto
+      the river-bank to stretch our legs and cool our faces in the freshness of
+      the dawn, when a company of Cossacks of the Guard came along. I knew the
+      officer in command and invited him to come along with us and drink the
+      Emperor&rsquo;s health at Cubat&rsquo;s place. That officer, Feodor Feodorovitch, is a
+      man who knows vintages and boasts that he has never swallowed a glass of
+      anything so common as Crimean wine. When I named champagne he cried, &lsquo;Vive
+      l&rsquo;Empereur!&rsquo; A true patriot. So we started, merry as school-children. The
+      entire company followed, then all the diners playing little whistles, and
+      all the servants besides, single file. At Cubat&rsquo;s I hated to leave the
+      companion-officers of my friend at the door, so I invited them in, too.
+      They accepted, naturally. But the subalterns were thirsty as well. I
+      understand discipline. You know, Feodor Feodorovitch, that I am a stickler
+      for discipline. Just because one is gay of a spring morning, discipline
+      should not be forgotten. I invited the officers to drink in a private
+      room, and sent the subalterns into the main hall of the restaurant. Then
+      the soldiers were thirsty, too, and I had drinks served to them out in the
+      courtyard. Then, my word, there was a perplexing business, for now the
+      horses whinnied. The brave horses, Feodor Feodorovitch, who also wished to
+      drink the health of the Emperor. I was bothered about the discipline.
+      Hall, court, all were full. And I could not put the horses in private
+      rooms. Well, I made them carry out champagne in pails and then came the
+      perplexing business I had tried so hard to avoid, a grand mixture of boots
+      and horse-shoes that was certainly the liveliest thing I have ever seen in
+      my life. But the horses were the most joyous, and danced as if a torch was
+      held under their nostrils, and all of them, my word! were ready to throw
+      their riders because the men were not of the same mind with them as to the
+      route to follow! From our window we laughed fit to kill at such a mixture
+      of sprawling boots and dancing hoofs. But the troopers finally got all
+      their horses to barracks, with patience, for the Emperor&rsquo;s cavalry are the
+      best riders in the world, Feodor Feodorovitch. And we certainly had a
+      great laugh!&mdash;Your health, Matrena Petrovna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     [* The &ldquo;Barque&rdquo; is a restaurant on a boat, among the isles,
+     near the Gulf of Finland, on a bank of the Neva.]
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      These last graceful words were addressed to Madame Trebassof, who shrugged
+      her shoulders at the undesired gallantry of the gay Councilor. She did not
+      join in the conversation, excepting to calm the general, who wished to
+      send the whole regiment to the guard-house, men and horses. And while the
+      roisterers laughed over the adventure she said to her husband in the
+      advisory voice of the helpful wife:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feodor, you must not attach importance to what that old fool Ivan tells
+      you. He is the most imaginative man in the capital when he has had
+      champagne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ivan, you certainly have not had horses served with champagne in pails,&rdquo;
+       the old boaster, Athanase Georgevitch, protested jealously. He was an
+      advocate, well-known for his table-feats, who claimed the hardest drinking
+      reputation of any man in the capital, and he regretted not to have
+      invented that tale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On my word! And the best brands! I had won four thousand roubles. I left
+      the little fete with fifteen kopecks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna was listening to Ermolai, the faithful country servant
+      who wore always, even here in the city, his habit of fresh nankeen, his
+      black leather belt, his large blue pantaloons and his boots glistening
+      like ice, his country costume in his master&rsquo;s city home. Madame Matrena
+      rose, after lightly stroking the hair of her step-daughter Natacha, whose
+      eyes followed her to the door, indifferent apparently to the tender
+      manifestations of her father&rsquo;s orderly, the soldier-poet, Boris Mourazoff,
+      who had written beautiful verses on the death of the Moscow students,
+      after having shot them, in the way of duty, on their barricades.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai conducted his mistress to the drawing-room and pointed across to a
+      door that he had left open, which led to the sitting-room before Natacha&rsquo;s
+      chamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is there,&rdquo; said Ermolai in a low voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai need have said nothing, for that matter, since Madame Matrena was
+      aware of a stranger&rsquo;s presence in the sitting-room by the extraordinary
+      attitude of an individual in a maroon frock-coat bordered with false
+      astrakhan, such as is on the coats of all the Russian police agents and
+      makes the secret agents recognizable at first glance. This policeman was
+      on his knees in the drawing-room watching what passed in the next room
+      through the narrow space of light in the hinge-way of the door. In this
+      manner, or some other, all persons who wished to approach General
+      Trebassof were kept under observation without their knowing it, after
+      having been first searched at the lodge, a measure adopted since the
+      latest attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Matrena touched the policeman&rsquo;s shoulder with that heroic hand
+      which had saved her husband&rsquo;s life and which still bore traces of the
+      terrible explosion in the last attack, when she had seized the infernal
+      machine intended for the general with her bare hand. The policeman rose
+      and silently left the room, reached the veranda and lounged there on a
+      sofa, pretending to be asleep, but in reality watching the garden paths.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna took his place at the hinge-vent. This was her rule; she
+      always took the final glance at everything and everybody. She roved at all
+      hours of the day and night round about the general, like a watch-dog,
+      ready to bite, to throw itself before the danger, to receive the blows, to
+      perish for its master. This had commenced at Moscow after the terrible
+      repression, the massacre of revolutionaries under the walls of Presnia,
+      when the surviving Nihilists left behind them a placard condemning the
+      victorious General Trebassof to death. Matrena Petrovna lived only for the
+      general. She had vowed that she would not survive him. So she had double
+      reason to guard him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But she had lost all confidence even within the walls of her own home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Things had happened even there that defied her caution, her instinct, her
+      love. She had not spoken of these things save to the Chief of Police,
+      Koupriane, who had reported them to the Emperor. And here now was the man
+      whom the Emperor had sent, as the supreme resource, this young stranger&mdash;Joseph
+      Rouletabille, reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he is a mere boy!&rdquo; she exclaimed, without at all understanding the
+      matter, this youthful figure, with soft, rounded cheeks, eyes clear and,
+      at first view, extraordinarily naive, the eyes of an infant. True, at the
+      moment Rouletabille&rsquo;s expression hardly suggested any superhuman
+      profundity of thought, for, left in view of a table, spread with
+      hors-d&rsquo;oeuvres, the young man appeared solely occupied in digging out with
+      a spoon all the caviare that remained in the jars. Matrena noted the rosy
+      freshness of his cheeks, the absence of down on his lip and not a hint of
+      beard, the thick hair, with the curl over the forehead. Ah, that forehead&mdash;the
+      forehead was curious, with great over-hanging cranial lumps which moved
+      above the deep arcade of the eye-sockets while the mouth was busy&mdash;well,
+      one would have said that Rouletabille had not eaten for a week. He was
+      demolishing a great slice of Volgan sturgeon, contemplating at the same
+      time with immense interest a salad of creamed cucumbers, when Matrena
+      Petrovna appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He wished to excuse himself at once and spoke with his mouth full.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, madame, but the Czar forgot to invite me to
+      breakfast.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Matrena smiled and gave him a hearty handshake as she urged him to
+      be seated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have seen His Majesty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I come from him, madame. It is to Madame Trebassof that I have the honor
+      of speaking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And you are Monsieur&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joseph Rouletabille, madame. I do not add, &lsquo;At your service&mdash;because
+      I do not know about that yet. That is what I said just now to His
+      Majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then?&rdquo; asked Madame Matrena, rather amused by the tone the conversation
+      had taken and the slightly flurried air of Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then, I am a reporter, you see. That is what I said at once to my
+      editor in Paris, &lsquo;I am not going to take part in revolutionary affairs
+      that do not concern my country,&rsquo; to which my editor replied, &lsquo;You do not
+      have to take part. You must go to Russia to make an inquiry into the
+      present status of the different parties. You will commence by interviewing
+      the Emperor.&rsquo; I said, &lsquo;Well, then, here goes,&rsquo; and took the train.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you have interviewed the Emperor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, that has not been difficult. I expected to arrive direct at St.
+      Petersburg, but at Krasnoie-Coelo the train stopped and the grand-marshal
+      of the court came to me and asked me to follow him. It was very
+      flattering. Twenty minutes later I was before His Majesty. He awaited me!
+      I understood at once that this was obviously for something out of the
+      ordinary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what did he say to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a man of genuine majesty. He reassured me at once when I explained
+      my scruples to him. He said there was no occasion for me to take part in
+      the politics of the matter, but to save his most faithful servant, who was
+      on the point of becoming the victim of the strangest family drama ever
+      conceived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Matrena, white as a sheet, rose to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Rouletabille, whom nothing escaped, saw her hand tremble on the back
+      of the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He went on, not appearing to have noticed her emotion:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Majesty added these exact words: &lsquo;It is I who ask it of you; I and
+      Madame Trebassof. Go, monsieur, she awaits you.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He ceased and waited for Madame Trebassof to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She made up her mind after brief reflection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen Koupriane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Chief of Police? Yes. The grand-marshal accompanied me back to the
+      station at Krasnoie-Coelo, and the Chief of Police accompanied me to St.
+      Petersburg station. One could not have been better received.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Rouletabille,&rdquo; said Matrena, who visibly strove to regain her
+      self-control, &ldquo;I am not of Koupriane&rsquo;s opinion and I am not&rdquo;&mdash;here
+      she lowered her trembling voice&mdash;&ldquo;of the opinion His Majesty holds.
+      It is better for me to tell you at once, so that you may not regret
+      intervening in an affair where there are&mdash;where there are&mdash;risks&mdash;terrible
+      risks to run. No, this is not a family drama. The family is small, very
+      small: the general, his daughter Natacha (by his former marriage), and
+      myself. There could not be a family drama among us three. It is simply
+      about my husband, monsieur, who did his duty as a soldier in defending the
+      throne of his sovereign, my husband whom they mean to assassinate! There
+      is nothing else, no other situation, my dear little guest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To hide her distress she started to carve a slice of jellied veal and
+      carrot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not eaten, you are hungry. It is dreadful, my dear young man.
+      See, you must dine with us, and then&mdash;you will say adieu. Yes, you
+      will leave me all alone. I will undertake to save him all alone.
+      Certainly, I will undertake it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A tear fell on the slice she was cutting. Rouletabille, who felt the brave
+      woman&rsquo;s emotion affecting him also, braced himself to keep from showing
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am able to help you a little all the same,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Monsieur
+      Koupriane has told me that there is a deep mystery. It is my vocation to
+      get to the bottom of mysteries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what Koupriane thinks,&rdquo; she said, shaking her head. &ldquo;But if I
+      could bring myself to think that for a single day I would rather be dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The good Matrena Petrovna lifted her beautiful eyes to Rouletabille,
+      brimming with the tears she held back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She added quickly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But eat now, my dear guest; eat. My dear child, you must forget what
+      Koupriane has said to you, when you are back in France.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise you that, madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Emperor who has caused you this long journey. For me, I did not
+      wish it. Has he, indeed, so much confidence in you?&rdquo; she asked naively,
+      gazing at him fixedly through her tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, I was just about to tell you. I have been active in some
+      important matters that have been reported to him, and then sometimes your
+      Emperor is allowed to see the papers. He has heard talk, too (for
+      everybody talked of them, madame), about the Mystery of the Yellow Room
+      and the Perfume of the Lady in Black.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Rouletabille watched Madame Trebassof and was much mortified at the
+      undoubted ignorance that showed in her frank face of either the yellow
+      room or the black perfume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My young friend,&rdquo; said she, in a voice more and more hesitant, &ldquo;you must
+      excuse me, but it is a long time since I have had good eyes for reading.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tears, at last, ran down her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille could not restrain himself any further. He saw in one flash
+      all this heroic woman had suffered in her combat day by day with the death
+      which hovered. He took her little fat hands, whose fingers were overloaded
+      with rings, tremulously into his own:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, do not weep. They wish to kill your husband. Well then, we will
+      be two at least to defend him, I swear to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even against the Nihilists!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, madame, against all the world. I have eaten all your caviare. I am
+      your guest. I am your friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said this he was so excited, so sincere and so droll that Madame
+      Trebassof could not help smiling through her tears. She made him sit down
+      beside her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Chief of Police has talked of you a great deal. He came here abruptly
+      after the last attack and a mysterious happening that I will tell you
+      about. He cried, &lsquo;Ah, we need Rouletabille to unravel this!&rsquo; The next day
+      he came here again. He had gone to the Court. There, everybody, it
+      appears, was talking of you. The Emperor wished to know you. That is why
+      steps were taken through the ambassador at Paris.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes. And naturally all the world has learned of it. That makes it so
+      lively. The Nihilists warned me immediately that I would not reach Russia
+      alive. That, finally, was what decided me on coming. I am naturally very
+      contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how did you get through the journey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not badly. I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned to
+      kill me, and I reached an understanding with him. He was a charming youth,
+      so it was easily arranged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would have been
+      difficult for him to name. Matrena Petrovna laid her fat little hand on
+      his arm:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak seriously?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very seriously.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A small glass of vodka?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No alcohol.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how did you discover him? How did you know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First, he wore glasses. All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling. And
+      then I had a good clew. A minute before the departure from Paris I had a
+      friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a reporter who would do
+      anything I said without even wanting to know why. I said, &lsquo;You call out
+      suddenly and very loud, &ldquo;Hello, here is Rouletabille.&rdquo;&rsquo; So he called,
+      &lsquo;Hello, here is Rouletabille,&rsquo; and all those who were in the corridor
+      turned and all those who were already in the compartments came out,
+      excepting the man with the glasses. Then I was sure about him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Trebassof looked at Rouletabille, who turned as red as the comb of a
+      rooster and was rather embarrassed at his fatuity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That deserves a rebuff, I know, madame, but from the moment the Emperor
+      of all the Russias had desired to see me I could not admit that any mere
+      man with glasses had not the curiosity to see what I looked like. It was
+      not natural. As soon as the train was off I sat down by this man and told
+      him who I thought he was. I was right. He removed his glasses and, looking
+      me straight in the eyes, said he was glad to have a little talk with me
+      before anything unfortunate happened. A half-hour later the
+      entente-cordiale was signed. I gave him to understand that I was coming
+      here simply on business as a reporter and that there was always time to
+      check me if I should be indiscreet. At the German frontier he left me to
+      go on, and returned tranquilly to his nitro-glycerine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a marked man also, my poor boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they have not got us yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna coughed. That <i>us</i> overwhelmed her. With what
+      calmness this boy that she had not known an hour proposed to share the
+      dangers of a situation that excited general pity but from which the
+      bravest kept aloof either from prudence or dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my friend, a little of this fine smoked Hamburg beef?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the young man was already pouring out fresh yellow beer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Now, madame, I am listening. Tell me first about the
+      earliest attack.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said Matrena, &ldquo;we must go to dinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked at her wide-eyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, madame, what have I just been doing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Matrena smiled. All these strangers were alike. Because they had
+      eaten some hors-d&rsquo;oeuvres, some zakouskis, they imagined their host would
+      be satisfied. They did not know how to eat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go to the dining-room. The general is expecting you. They are at
+      table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand I am supposed to know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you have met in Paris. It is entirely natural that in passing
+      through St. Petersburg you should make him a visit. You know him very well
+      indeed, so well that he opens his home to you. Ah, yes, my step-daughter
+      also&rdquo;&mdash;she flushed a little&mdash;&ldquo;Natacha believes that her father
+      knows you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She opened the door of the drawing-room, which they had to cross in order
+      to reach the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From his present position Rouletabille could see all the corners of the
+      drawing-room, the veranda, the garden and the entrance lodge at the gate.
+      In the veranda the man in the maroon frock-coat trimmed with false
+      astrakhan seemed still to be asleep on the sofa; in one of the corners of
+      the drawing-room another individual, silent and motionless as a statue,
+      dressed exactly the same, in a maroon frock-coat with false astrakhan,
+      stood with his hands behind his back seemingly struck with general
+      paralysis at the sight of a flaring sunset which illumined as with a torch
+      the golden spires of Saints Peter and Paul. And in the garden and before
+      the lodge three others dressed in maroon roved like souls in pain over the
+      lawn or back and forth at the entrance. Rouletabille motioned to Madame
+      Matrena, stepped back into the sitting-room and closed the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Police?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna nodded her head and put her finger to her mouth in a
+      naive way, as one would caution a child to silence. Rouletabille smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How many are there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten, relieved every six hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That makes forty unknown men around your house each day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not unknown,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;Police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet, in spite of them, you have had the affair of the bouquet in the
+      general&rsquo;s chamber.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, there were only three then. It is since the affair of the bouquet
+      that there have been ten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It hardly matters. It is since these ten that you have had...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; she demanded anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know well&mdash;the flooring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sh-h-h.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She glanced at the door, watching the policeman statuesque before the
+      setting sun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one knows that&mdash;not even my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So M. Koupriane told me. Then it is you who have arranged for these ten
+      police-agents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we will commence now by sending all these police away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna grasped his hand, astounded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely you don&rsquo;t think of doing such a thing as that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. We must know where the blow is coming from. You have four different
+      groups of people around here&mdash;the police, the domestics, your
+      friends, your family. Get rid of the police first. They must not be
+      permitted to cross your threshold. They have not been able to protect you.
+      You have nothing to regret. And if, after they are gone, something new
+      turns up, we can leave M. Koupriane to conduct the inquiries without his
+      being preoccupied here at the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you do not know the admirable police of Koupriane. These brave men
+      have given proof of their devotion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, if I were face to face with a Nihilist the first thing I would
+      ask myself about him would be, &lsquo;Is he one of the police?&rsquo; The first thing
+      I ask in the presence of an agent of your police is, &lsquo;Is he not a
+      Nihilist?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they will not wish to go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do any of them speak French?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, their sergeant, who is out there in the salon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray call him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame Trebassof walked into the salon and signaled. The man appeared.
+      Rouletabille handed him a paper, which the other read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will gather your men together and quit the villa,&rdquo; ordered
+      Rouletabille. &ldquo;You will return to the police Headguarters. Say to M.
+      Koupriane that I have commanded this and that I require all police service
+      around the villa to be suspended until further orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed, appeared not to understand, looked at Madame Trebassof and
+      said to the young man:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At your service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait here a moment,&rdquo; urged Madame Trebassof, who did not know how to take
+      this abrupt action and whose anxiety was really painful to see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She disappeared after the man of the false astrakhan. A few moments
+      afterwards she returned. She appeared even more agitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;but I cannot let them go like this.
+      They are much chagrined. They have insisted on knowing where they have
+      failed in their service. I have appeased them with money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and tell me the whole truth, madame. You have directed them not to
+      go far away, but to remain near the villa so as to watch it as closely as
+      possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She reddened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true. But they have gone, nevertheless. They had to obey you. What
+      can that paper be you have shown them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille drew out again the billet covered with seals and signs and
+      cabalistics that he did not understand. Madame Trebassof translated it
+      aloud: &ldquo;Order to all officials in surveillance of the Villa Trebassof to
+      obey the bearer absolutely. Signed: Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo; murmured Matrena Petrovna. &ldquo;But Koupriane would never
+      have given you this paper if he had imagined that you would use it to
+      dismiss his agents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Evidently. I have not asked him his advice, madame, you may be sure. But
+      I will see him to-morrow and he will understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meanwhile, who is going to watch over him?&rdquo; cried she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille took her hands again. He saw her suffering, a prey to anguish
+      almost prostrating. He pitied her. He wished to give her immediate
+      confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw his young, clear eyes, so deep, so intelligent, the well-formed
+      young head, the willing face, all his young ardency for her, and it
+      reassured her. Rouletabille waited for what she might say. She said
+      nothing. She took him in her arms and embraced him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      II. NATACHA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the dining-room it was Thaddeus Tchnichnikoff&rsquo;s turn to tell hunting
+      stories. He was the greatest timber-merchant in Lithuania. He owned
+      immense forests and he loved Feodor Feodorovitch* as a brother, for they
+      had played together all through their childhood, and once he had saved him
+      from a bear that was just about to crush his skull as one might knock off
+      a hat. General Trebassof&rsquo;s father was governor of Courlande at that time,
+      by the grace of God and the Little Father. Thaddeus, who was just thirteen
+      years old, killed the bear with a single stroke of his boar-spear, and
+      just in time. Close ties were knit between the two families by this
+      occurrence, and though Thaddeus was neither noble-born nor a soldier,
+      Feodor considered him his brother and felt toward him as such. Now
+      Thaddeus had become the greatest timber-merchant of the western provinces,
+      with his own forests and also with his massive body, his fat, oily face,
+      his bull-neck and his ample paunch. He quitted everything at once&mdash;all
+      his affairs, his family&mdash;as soon as he learned of the first attack,
+      to come and remain by the side of his dear comrade Feodor. He had done
+      this after each attack, without forgetting one. He was a faithful friend.
+      But he fretted because they might not go bear-hunting as in their youth.
+      &lsquo;Where, he would ask, are there any bears remaining in Courlande, or trees
+      for that matter, what you could call trees, growing since the days of the
+      grand-dukes of Lithuania, giant trees that threw their shade right up to
+      the very edge of the towns? Where were such things nowadays? Thaddeus was
+      very amusing, for it was he, certainly, who had cut them away tranquilly
+      enough and watched them vanish in locomotive smoke. It was what was called
+      Progress. Ah, hunting lost its national character assuredly with tiny
+      new-growth trees which had not had time to grow. And, besides, one
+      nowadays had not time for hunting. All the big game was so far away. Lucky
+      enough if one seized the time to bring down a brace of woodcock early in
+      the morning. At this point in Thaddeus&rsquo;s conversation there was a babble
+      of talk among the convivial gentlemen, for they had all the time in the
+      world at their disposal and could not see why he should be so concerned
+      about snatching a little while at morning or evening, or at midday for
+      that matter. Champagne was flowing like a river when Rouletabille was
+      brought in by Matrena Petrovna. The general, whose eyes had been on the
+      door for some time, cried at once, as though responding to a cue:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my dear Rouletabille! I have been looking for you. Our friends wrote
+      me you were coming to St. Petersburg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * In this story according to Russian habit General Trebassof
+     is called alternately by that name or the family name Feodor
+     Feodorovitch, and Madame Trebassof by that name or her
+     family name, Matrena Petrovna.&mdash;Translator&rsquo;s Note.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille hurried over to him and they shook hands like friends who
+      meet after a long separation. The reporter was presented to the company as
+      a close young friend from Paris whom they had enjoyed so much during their
+      latest visit to the City of Light. Everybody inquired for the latest word
+      of Paris as of a dear acquaintance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is everybody at Maxim&rsquo;s?&rdquo; urged the excellent Athanase Georgevitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaddeus, too, had been once in Paris and he returned with an enthusiastic
+      liking for the French demoiselles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vos gogottes, monsieur,&rdquo; he said, appearing very amiable and leaning on
+      each word, with a guttural emphasis such as is common in the western
+      provinces, &ldquo;ah, vos gogottes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Perovna tried to silence him, but Thaddeus insisted on his right
+      to appreciate the fair sex away from home. He had a turgid, sentimental
+      wife, always weeping and cramming her religious notions down his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course someone asked Rouletabille what he thought of Russia, but he had
+      no more than opened his mouth to reply than Athanase Georgevitch closed it
+      by interrupting:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permettez! Permettez! You others, of the young generation, what do you
+      know of it? You need to have lived a long time and in all its districts to
+      appreciate Russia at its true value. Russia, my young sir, is as yet a
+      closed book to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naturally,&rdquo; Rouletabille answered, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, here&rsquo;s your health! What I would point out to you first of
+      all is that it is a good buyer of champagne, eh?&rdquo;&mdash;and he gave a huge
+      grin. &ldquo;But the hardest drinker I ever knew was born on the banks of the
+      Seine. Did you know him, Feodor Feodorovitch? Poor Charles Dufour, who
+      died two years ago at fete of the officers of the Guard. He wagered at the
+      end of the banquet that he could drink a glassful of champagne to the
+      health of each man there. There were sixty when you came to count them. He
+      commenced the round of the table and the affair went splendidly up to the
+      fifty-eighth man. But at the fifty-ninth&mdash;think of the misfortune!&mdash;the
+      champagne ran out! That poor, that charming, that excellent Charles took
+      up a glass of vin dore which was in the glass of this fifty-ninth, wished
+      him long life, drained the glass at one draught, had just time to murmur,
+      &lsquo;Tokay, 1807,&rsquo; and fell back dead! Ah, he knew the brands, my word! and he
+      proved it to his last breath! Peace to his ashes! They asked what he died
+      of. I knew he died because of the inappropriate blend of flavors. There
+      should be discipline in all things and not promiscuous mixing. One more
+      glass of champagne and he would have been drinking with us this evening.
+      Your health, Matrena Petrovna. Champagne, Feodor Feodorovitch! Vive la
+      France, monsieur! Natacha, my child, you must sing something. Boris will
+      accompany you on the guzla. Your father will enjoy it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All eyes turned toward Natacha as she rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was struck by her serene beauty. That was the first
+      enthralling impression, an impression so strong it astonished him, the
+      perfect serenity, the supreme calm, the tranquil harmony of her noble
+      features. Natacha was twenty. Heavy brown hair circled about er forehead
+      and was looped about her ears, which were half-concealed. Her profile was
+      clear-cut; her mouth was strong and revealed between red, firm lips the
+      even pearliness of her teeth. She was of medium height. In walking she had
+      the free, light step of the highborn maidens who, in primal times, pressed
+      the flowers as they passed without crushing them. But all her true grace
+      seemed to be concentrated in her eyes, which were deep and of a dark blue.
+      The impression she made upon a beholder was very complex. And it would
+      have been difficult to say whether the calm which pervaded every
+      manifestation of her beauty was the result of conscious control or the
+      most perfect ease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took down the guzla and handed it to Boris, who struck some plaintive
+      preliminary chords.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall I sing?&rdquo; she inquired, raising her father&rsquo;s hand from the back
+      of the sofa where he rested and kissing it with filial tenderness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Improvise,&rdquo; said the general. &ldquo;Improvise in French, for the sake of our
+      guest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; cried Boris; &ldquo;improvise as you did the other evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He immediately struck a minor chord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha looked fondly at her father as she sang:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;When the moment comes that parts us at the close of day,
+  when the Angel of Sleep covers you with azure wings;
+  &ldquo;Oh, may your eyes rest from so many tears, and your oppressed
+        heart have calm;
+  &ldquo;In each moment that we have together, Father dear, let our
+        souls feel harmony sweet and mystical;
+  &ldquo;And when your thoughts may have flown to other worlds, oh, may
+        my image, at least, nestle within your sleeping eyes.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Natacha&rsquo;s voice was sweet, and the charm of it subtly pervasive. The words
+      as she uttered them seemed to have all the quality of a prayer and there
+      were tears in all eyes, excepting those of Michael Korsakoff, the second
+      orderly, whom Rouletabille appraised as a man with a rough heart not much
+      open to sentiment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feodor Feodorovitch,&rdquo; said this officer, when the young girl&rsquo;s voice had
+      faded away into the blending with the last note of the guzla, &ldquo;Feodor
+      Feodorovitch is a man and a glorious soldier who is able to sleep in
+      peace, because he has labored for his country and for his Czar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes. Labored well! A glorious soldier!&rdquo; repeated Athanase
+      Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch. &ldquo;Well may he sleep peacefully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha sang like an angel,&rdquo; said Boris, the first orderly, in a
+      tremulous voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like an angel, Boris Nikolaievitch. But why did she speak of his heart
+      oppressed? I don&rsquo;t see that General Trebassof has a heart oppressed, for
+      my part.&rdquo; Michael Korsakoff spoke roughly as he drained his glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, that&rsquo;s so, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; agreed the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A young girl may wish her father a pleasant sleep, surely!&rdquo; said Matrena
+      Petrovna, with a certain good sense. &ldquo;Natacha has affected us all, has she
+      not, Feodor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she made me weep,&rdquo; declared the general. &ldquo;But let us have champagne
+      to cheer us up. Our young friend here will think we are chicken-hearted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never think that,&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;Mademoiselle has touched me deeply
+      as well. She is an artist, really a great artist. And a poet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is from Paris; he knows,&rdquo; said the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And all drank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they talked about music, with great display of knowledge concerning
+      things operatic. First one, then another went to the piano and ran through
+      some motif that the rest hummed a little first, then shouted in a rousing
+      chorus. Then they drank more, amid a perfect fracas of talk and laughter.
+      Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch walked across and kissed the
+      general. Rouletabille saw all around him great children who amused
+      themselves with unbelievable naivete and who drank in a fashion more
+      unbelievable still. Matrena Petrovna smoked cigarettes of yellow tobacco
+      incessantly, rising almost continually to make a hurried round of the
+      rooms, and after having prompted the servants to greater watchfulness, sat
+      and looked long at Rouletabille, who did not stir, but caught every word,
+      every gesture of each one there. Finally, sighing, she sat down by Feodor
+      and asked how his leg felt. Michael and Natacha, in a corner, were deep in
+      conversation, and Boris watched them with obvious impatience, still
+      strumming the guzla. But the thing that struck Rouletabille&rsquo;s youthful
+      imagination beyond all else was the mild face of the general. He had not
+      imagined the terrible Trebassof with so paternal and sympathetic an
+      expression. The Paris papers had printed redoubtable pictures of him, more
+      or less authentic, but the arts of photography and engraving had cut
+      vigorous, rough features of an official&mdash;who knew no pity. Such
+      pictures were in perfect accord with the idea one naturally had of the
+      dominating figure of the government at Moscow, the man who, during eight
+      days&mdash;the Red Week&mdash;had made so many corpses of students and
+      workmen that the halls of the University and the factories had opened
+      their doors since in vain. The dead would have had to arise for those
+      places to be peopled! Days of terrible battle where in one quarter or
+      another of the city there was naught but massacre or burnings, until
+      Matrena Petrovna and her step-daughter, Natacha (all the papers told of
+      it), had fallen on their knees before the general and begged terms for the
+      last of the revolutionaries, at bay in the Presnia quarter, and had been
+      refused by him. &ldquo;War is war,&rdquo; had been his answer, with irrefutable logic.
+      &ldquo;How can you ask mercy for these men who never give it?&rdquo; Be it said for
+      the young men of the barricades that they never surrendered, and equally
+      be it said for Trebassof that he necessarily shot them. &ldquo;If I had only
+      myself to consider,&rdquo; the general had said to a Paris journalist, &ldquo;I could
+      have been gentle as a lamb with these unfortunates, and so I should not
+      now myself be condemned to death. After all, I fail to see what they
+      reproach me with. I have served my master as a brave and loyal subject, no
+      more, and, after the fighting, I have let others ferret out the children
+      that had hidden under their mothers&rsquo; skirts. Everybody talks of the
+      repression of Moscow, but let us speak, my friend, of the Commune. There
+      was a piece of work I would not have done, to massacre within a court an
+      unresisting crowd of men, women and children. I am a rough and faithful
+      soldier of His Majesty, but I am not a monster, and I have the feelings of
+      a husband and father, my dear monsieur. Tell your readers that, if you
+      care to, and do not surmise further about whether I appear to regret being
+      condemned to death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Certainly what stupefied Rouletabille now was this staunch figure of the
+      condemned man who appeared so tranquilly to enjoy his life. When the
+      general was not furthering the gayety of his friends he was talking with
+      his wife and daughter, who adored him and continually fondled him, and he
+      seemed perfectly happy. With his enormous grizzly mustache, his ruddy
+      color, his keen, piercing eyes, he looked the typical spoiled father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter studied all these widely-different types and made his
+      observations while pretending to a ravenous appetite, which served,
+      moreover, to fix him in the good graces of his hosts of the datcha des
+      Iles. But, in reality, he passed the food to an enormous bull-dog under
+      the table, in whose good graces he was also thus firmly planting himself.
+      As Trebassof had prayed his companions to let his young friend satisfy his
+      ravening hunger in peace, they did not concern themselves to entertain
+      him. Then, too, the music served to distract attention from him, and at a
+      moment somewhat later, when Matrena Petrovna turned to speak to the young
+      man, she was frightened at not seeing him. Where had he gone? She went out
+      into the veranda and looked. She did not dare to call. She walked into the
+      grand-salon and saw the reporter just as he came out of the sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where were you?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sitting-room is certainly charming, and decorated exquisitely,&rdquo;
+       complimented Rouletabille. &ldquo;It seems almost a boudoir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does serve as a boudoir for my step-daughter, whose bedroom opens
+      directly from it; you see the door there. It is simply for the present
+      that the luncheon table is set there, because for some time the police
+      have pre-empted the veranda.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is your dog a watch-dog, madame?&rdquo; asked Rouletabille, caressing the
+      beast, which had followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Khor is faithful and had guarded us well hitherto.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He sleeps now, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Koupriane has him shut in the lodge to keep him from barking nights.
+      Koupriane fears that if he is out he will devour one of the police who
+      watch in the garden at night. I wanted him to sleep in the house, or by
+      his master&rsquo;s door, or even at the foot of the bed, but Koupriane said,
+      &lsquo;No, no; no dog. Don&rsquo;t rely on the dog. Nothing is more dangerous than to
+      rely on the dog. &lsquo;Since then he has kept Khor locked up at night. But I do
+      not understand Koupriane&rsquo;s idea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Koupriane is right,&rdquo; said the reporter. &ldquo;Dogs are useful only
+      against strangers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; gasped the poor woman, dropping her eyes. &ldquo;Koupriane certainly knows
+      his business; he thinks of everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she added rapidly, as though to hide her disquiet, &ldquo;do not go out
+      like that without letting me know. They want you in the dining-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must have you tell me right now about this attempt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the dining-room, in the dining-room. In spite of myself,&rdquo; she said in
+      a low voice, &ldquo;it is stronger than I am. I am not able to leave the general
+      by himself while he is on the ground-floor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew Rouletabille into the dining-room, where the gentlemen were now
+      telling odd stories of street robberies amid loud laughter. Natacha was
+      still talking with Michael Korsakoff; Boris, whose eyes never quitted
+      them, was as pale as the wax on his guzla, which he rattled violently from
+      time to time. Matrena made Rouletabille sit in a corner of the sofa, near
+      her, and, counting on her fingers like a careful housewife who does not
+      wish to overlook anything in her domestic calculations, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There have been three attempts; the first two in Moscow. The first
+      happened very simply. The general knew he had been condemned to death.
+      They had delivered to him at the palace in the afternoon the
+      revoluntionary poster which proclaimed his intended fate to the whole city
+      and country. So Feodor, who was just about to ride into the city,
+      dismissed his escort. He ordered horses put to a sleigh. I trembled and
+      asked what he was going to do. He said he was going to drive quietly
+      through all parts of the city, in order to show the Muscovites that a
+      governor appointed according to law by the Little Father and who had in
+      his conscience only the sense that he had done his full duty was not to be
+      intimidated. It was nearly four o&rsquo;clock, toward the end of a winter day
+      that had been clear and bright, but very cold. I wrapped myself in my furs
+      and took my seat beside him, and he said, &lsquo;This is fine, Matrena; this
+      will have a great effect on these imbeciles.&rsquo; So we started. At first we
+      drove along the Naberjnaia. The sleigh glided like the wind. The general
+      hit the driver a heavy blow in the back, crying, &lsquo;Slower, fool; they will
+      think we are afraid,&rsquo; and so the horses were almost walking when, passing
+      behind the Church of Protection and intercession, we reached the Place
+      Rouge. Until then the few passers-by had looked at us, and as they
+      recognized him, hurried along to keep him in view. At the Place Rouge
+      there was only a little knot of women kneeling before the Virgin. As soon
+      as these women saw us and recognized the equipage of the Governor, they
+      dispersed like a flock of crows, with frightened cries. Feodor laughed so
+      hard that as we passed under the vault of the Virgin his laugh seemed to
+      shake the stones. I felt reassured, monsieur. Our promenade continued
+      without any remarkable incident. The city was almost deserted. Everything
+      lay prostrated under the awful blow of that battle in the street. Feodor
+      said, &lsquo;Ah, they give me a wide berth; they do not know how much I love
+      them,&rdquo; and all through that promenade he said many more charming and
+      delicate things to me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As we were talking pleasantly under our furs we came to la Place
+      Koudrinsky, la rue Koudrinsky, to be exact. It was just four o&rsquo;clock, and
+      a light mist had commenced to mix with the sifting snow, and the houses to
+      right and left were visible only as masses of shadow. We glided over the
+      snow like a boat along the river in foggy calm. Then, suddenly, we heard
+      piercing cries and saw shadows of soldiers rushing around, with movements
+      that looked larger than human through the mist; their short whips looked
+      enormous as they knocked some other shadows that we saw down like logs.
+      The general stopped the sleigh and got out to see what was going on. I got
+      out with him. They were soldiers of the famous Semenowsky regiment, who
+      had two prisoners, a young man and a child. The child was being beaten on
+      the nape of the neck. It writhed on the ground and cried in torment. It
+      couldn&rsquo;t have been more than nine years old. The other, the young man,
+      held himself up and marched along without a single cry as the thongs fell
+      brutally upon him. I was appalled. I did not give my husband time to open
+      his mouth before I called to the subaltern who commanded the detachment,
+      &lsquo;You should be ashamed to strike a child and a Christian like that, which
+      cannot defend itself.&rsquo; The general told him the same thing. Then the
+      subaltern told us that the little child had just killed a lieutenant in
+      the street by firing a revolver, which he showed us, and it was the
+      biggest one I ever have seen, and must have been as heavy for that infant
+      to lift as a small cannon. It was unbelievable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;And the other,&rsquo; demanded the general; &lsquo;what has he done?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;He is a dangerous student,&rsquo; replied the subaltern, &lsquo;who has delivered
+      himself up as a prisoner because he promised the landlord of the house
+      where he lives that he would do it to keep the house from being battered
+      down with cannon.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;But that is right of him. Why do you beat him?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Because he has told us he is a dangerous student.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;That is no reason,&rsquo; Feodor told him. &lsquo;He will be shot if he deserves it,
+      and the child also, but I forbid you to beat him. You have not been
+      furnished with these whips in order to beat isolated prisoners, but to
+      charge the crowd when it does not obey the governor&rsquo;s orders. In such a
+      case you are ordered &ldquo;Charge,&rdquo; and you know what to do. You understand?&rsquo; 
+      Feodor said roughly. &lsquo;I am General Trebassof, your governor.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feodor was thoroughly human in saying this. Ah, well, he was badly
+      compensed for it, very badly, I tell you. The student was truly dangerous,
+      because he had no sooner heard my husband say, &lsquo;I am General Trebassof,
+      your governor,&rsquo; than he cried, &lsquo;Ah, is it you, Trebassoff&rsquo; and drew a
+      revolver from no one knows where and fired straight at the general, almost
+      against his breast. But the general was not hit, happily, nor I either,
+      who was by him and had thrown myself onto the student to disarm him and
+      then was tossed about at the feet of the soldiers in the battle they waged
+      around the student while the revolver was going off. Three soldiers were
+      killed. You can understand that the others were furious. They raised me
+      with many excuses and, all together, set to kicking the student in the
+      loins and striking at him as he lay on the ground. The subaltern struck
+      his face a blow that might have blinded him. Feodor hit the officer in the
+      head with his fist and called, &lsquo;Didn&rsquo;t you hear what I said?&rsquo; The officer
+      fell under the blow and Feodor himself carried him to the sleigh and laid
+      him with the dead men. Then he took charge of the soldiers and led them to
+      the barracks. I followed, as a sort of after-guard. We returned to the
+      palace an hour later. It was quite dark by then, and almost at the
+      entrance to the palace we were shot at by a group of revolutionaries who
+      passed swiftly in two sleighs and disappeared in the darkness so fast that
+      they could not be overtaken. I had a ball in my toque. The general had not
+      been touched this time either, but our furs were ruined by the blood of
+      the dead soldiers which they had forgotten to clean out of the sleigh.
+      That was the first attempt, which meant little enough, after all, because
+      it was fighting in the open. It was some days later that they commenced to
+      try assassination.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Ermolai brought in four bottles of champagne and Thaddeus
+      struck lightly on the piano.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quickly, madame, the second attempt,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, who was aking
+      hasty notes on his cuff, never ceasing, meanwhile, to watch the convivial
+      group and listening with both ears wide open to Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The second happened still in Moscow. We had had a jolly dinner because we
+      thought that at last the good old days were back and good citizens could
+      live in peace; and Boris had tried out the guzla singing songs of the Orel
+      country to please me; he is so fine and sympathetic. Natacha had gone
+      somewhere or other. The sleigh was waiting at the door and we went out and
+      got in. Almost instantly there was a fearful noise, and we were thrown out
+      into the snow, both the general and me. There remained no trace of sleigh
+      or coachman; the two horses were disemboweled, two magnificent piebald
+      horses, my dear young monsieur, that the general was so attached to. As to
+      Feodor, he had that serious wound in his right leg; the calf was
+      shattered. I simply had my shoulder a little wrenched, practically
+      nothing. The bomb had been placed under the seat of the unhappy coachman,
+      whose hat alone we found, in a pool of blood. From that attack the general
+      lay two months in bed. In the second month they arrested two servants who
+      were caught one night on the landing leading to the upper floor, where
+      they had no business, and after that I sent at once for our old domestics
+      in Orel to come and serve us. It was discovered that these detected
+      servants were in touch with the revolutionaries, so they were hanged. The
+      Emperor appointed a provisional governor, and now that the general was
+      better we decided on a convalescence for him in the midi of France. We
+      took train for St. Petersburg, but the journey started high fever in my
+      husband and reopened the wound in his calf. The doctors ordered absolute
+      rest and so we settled here in the datcha des Iles. Since then, not a day
+      has passed without the general receiving an anonymous letter telling him
+      that nothing can save him from the revenge of the revolutionaries. He is
+      brave and only smiles over them, but for me, I know well that so long as
+      we are in Russia we have not a moment&rsquo;s security. So I watch him every
+      minute and let no one approach him except his intimate friends and us of
+      the family. I have brought an old gniagnia who watched me grow up,
+      Ermolai, and the Orel servants. In the meantime, two months later, the
+      third attempt suddenly occurred. It is certainly of them all the most
+      frightening, because it is so mysterious, a mystery that has not yet,
+      alas, been solved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Athanase Georgevitch had told a &ldquo;good story&rdquo; which raised so much
+      hubbub that nothing else could be heard. Feodor Feodorovitch was so amused
+      that he had tears in his eyes. Rouletabille said to himself as Matrena
+      talked, &ldquo;I never have seen men so gay, and yet they know perfectly they
+      are apt to be blown up all together any moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      General Trebassof, who had steadily watched Rouletabille, who, for that
+      matter, had been kept in eye by everyone there, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, eh, monsieur le journaliste, you find us very gay?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find you very brave,&rdquo; said Rouletabille quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is that?&rdquo; said Feodor Feodorovitch, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must pardon me for thinking of the things that you seem to have
+      forgotten entirely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He indicated the general&rsquo;s wounded leg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The chances of war! the chances of war!&rdquo; said the general. &ldquo;A leg here,
+      an arm there. But, as you see, I am still here. They will end by growing
+      tired and leaving me in peace. Your health, my friend!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your health, general!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You understand,&rdquo; continued Feodor Feodorovitch, &ldquo;there is no occasion to
+      excite ourselves. It is our business to defend the empire at the peril of
+      our lives. We find that quite natural, and there is no occasion to think
+      of it. I have had terrors enough in other directions, not to speak of the
+      terrors of love, that are more ferocious than you can yet imagine. Look at
+      what they did to my poor friend the Chief of the Surete, Boichlikoff. He
+      was commendable certainly. There was a brave man. Of an evening, when his
+      work was over, he always left the bureau of the prefecture and went to
+      join his wife and children in their apartment in the ruelle des Loups. Not
+      a soldier! No guard! The others had every chance. One evening a score of
+      revolutionaries, after having driven away the terrorized servants, mounted
+      to his apartments. He was dining with his family. They knocked and he
+      opened the door. He saw who they were, and tried to speak. They gave him
+      no time. Before his wife and children, mad with terror and on their knees
+      before the revolutionaries, they read him his death-sentence. A fine end
+      that to a dinner!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he listened Rouletabille paled and he kept his eyes on the door as if
+      he expected to see it open of itself, giving access to ferocious Nihilists
+      of whom one, with a paper in his hand, would read the sentence of death to
+      Feodor Feodorovitch. Rouletabille&rsquo;s stomach was not yet seasoned to such
+      stories. He almost regretted, momentarily, having taken the terrible
+      responsibility of dismissing the police. After what Koupriane had confided
+      to him of things that had happened in this house, he had not hesitated to
+      risk everything on that audacious decision, but all the same, all the same&mdash;these
+      stories of Nihilists who appear at the end of a meal, death-sentence in
+      hand, they haunted him, they upset him. Certainly it had been a piece of
+      foolhardiness to dismiss the police!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he asked, conquering his misgivings and resuming, as always, his
+      confidence in himself, &ldquo;then, what did they do then, after reading the
+      sentence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Chief of the Surete knew he had no time to spare. He did not ask for
+      it. The revolutionaries ordered him to bid his family farewell. He raised
+      his wife, his children, clasped them, bade them be of good courage, then
+      said he was ready. They took him into the street. They stood him against a
+      wall. His wife and children watched from a window. A volley sounded. They
+      descended to secure the body, pierced with twenty-five bullets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was exactly the number of wounds that were made on the body of
+      little Jacques Zloriksky,&rdquo; came in the even tones of Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you, you always find an excuse,&rdquo; grumbled the general. &ldquo;Poor
+      Boichlikoff did his duty, as I did mine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, papa, you acted like a soldier. That is what the revolutionaries
+      ought not to forget. But have no fears for us, papa; because if they kill
+      you we will all die with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And gayly too,&rdquo; declared Athanase Georgevitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They should come this evening. We are in form!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon which Athanase filled the glasses again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None the less, permit me to say,&rdquo; ventured the timber-merchant, Thaddeus
+      Tchnitchnikof, timidly, &ldquo;permit me to say that this Boichlikoff was very
+      imprudent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, indeed, very gravely imprudent,&rdquo; agreed Rouletabille. &ldquo;When a man
+      has had twenty-five good bullets shot into the body of a child, he ought
+      certainly to keep his home well guarded if he wishes to dine in peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stammered a little toward the end of this, because it occurred to him
+      that it was a little inconsistent to express such opinions, seeing what he
+      had done with the guard over the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; cried Athanase Georgevitch, in a stage-struck voice, &ldquo;Ah, it was not
+      imprudence! It was contempt of death! Yes, it was contempt of death that
+      killed him! Even as the contempt of death keeps us, at this moment, in
+      perfect health. To you, ladies and gentlemen! Do you know anything
+      lovelier, grander, in the world than contempt of death? Gaze on Feodor
+      Feodorovitch and answer me. Superb! My word, superb! To you all! The
+      revolutionaries who are not of the police are of the same mind regarding
+      our heroes. They may curse the tchinownicks who execute the terrible
+      orders given them by those higher up, but those who are not of the police
+      (there are some, I believe)&mdash;these surely recognize that men like the
+      Chief of the Surete our dead friend, are brave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; endorsed the general. &ldquo;Counting all things, they need more
+      heroism for a promenade in a salon than a soldier on a battle-field.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have met some of these men,&rdquo; continued Athanase in exalted vein. &ldquo;I
+      have found in all their homes the same&mdash;imprudence, as our young
+      French friend calls it. A few days after the assassination of the Chief of
+      Police in Moscow I was received by his successor in the same place where
+      the assassination had occurred. He did not take the slightest precaution
+      with me, whom he did not know at all, nor with men of the middle class who
+      came to present their petitions, in spite of the fact that it was under
+      precisely identical conditions that his predecessor had been slain. Before
+      I left I looked over to where on the floor there had so recently occurred
+      such agony. They had placed a rug there and on the rug a table, and on
+      that table there was a book. Guess what book. &lsquo;Women&rsquo;s Stockings,&rsquo; by
+      Willy! And&mdash;and then&mdash;Your health, Matrena Petrovna. What&rsquo;s the
+      odds!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You yourselves, my friends,&rdquo; declared the general, &ldquo;prove your great
+      courage by coming to share the hours that remain of my life with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all, not at all! It is war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, there&rsquo;s no occasion to pat us on the shoulder, Athanase,&rdquo; insisted
+      Thaddeus modestly. &ldquo;What risk do we run? We are well guarded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are protected by the finger of God,&rdquo; declared Athanase, &ldquo;because the
+      police&mdash;well, I haven&rsquo;t any confidence in the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael Korsakoff, who had been for a turn in the garden, entered during
+      the remark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be happy, then, Athanase Georgevitch,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;for there are now no
+      police around the villa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are they?&rdquo; inquired the timber-merchant uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An order came from Koupriane to remove them,&rdquo; explained Matrena Petrovna,
+      who exerted herself to appear calm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And are they not replaced?&rdquo; asked Michael.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. It is incomprehensible. There must have been some confusion in the
+      orders given.&rdquo; And Matrena reddened, for she loathed a lie and it was in
+      tribulation of spirit that she used this fable under Rouletabille&rsquo;s
+      directions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well, all the better,&rdquo; said the general. &ldquo;It will give me pleasure to
+      see my home ridded for a while of such people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Athanase was naturally of the same mind as the general, and when Thaddeus
+      and Ivan Petrovitch and the orderlies offered to pass the night at the
+      villa and take the place of the absent police, Feodor Feodorovitch caught
+      a gesture from Rouletabille which disapproved the idea of this new guard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; cried the general emphatically. &ldquo;You leave at the usual time. I
+      want now to get back into the ordinary run of things, my word! To live as
+      everyone else does. We shall be all right. Koupriane and I have arranged
+      the matter. Koupriane is less sure of his men, after all, than I am of my
+      servants. You understand me. I do not need to explain further. You will go
+      home to bed&mdash;and we will all sleep. Those are the orders. Besides,
+      you must remember that the guard-post is only a step from here, at the
+      corner of the road, and we have only to give a signal to bring them all
+      here. But&mdash;more secret agents or special police&mdash;no, no!
+      Good-night. All of us to bed now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They did not insist further. When Feodor had said, &ldquo;Those are the orders,&rdquo;
+       there was room for nothing more, not even in the way of polite insistence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But before going to their beds all went into the veranda, where liqueurs
+      were served by the brave Ermolai, as always. Matrena pushed the
+      wheel-chair of the general there, and he kept repeating, &ldquo;No, no. No more
+      such people. No more police. They only bring trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feodor! Feodor!&rdquo; sighed Matrena, whose anxiety deepened in spite of all
+      she could do, &ldquo;they watched over your dear life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Life is dear to me only because of you, Matrena Petrovna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And not at all because of me, papa?&rdquo; said Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Natacha!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took both her hands in his. It was an affecting glimpse of family
+      intimacy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From time to time, while Ermolai poured the liqueurs, Feodor struck his
+      band on the coverings over his leg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It gets better,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;It gets better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then melancholy showed in his rugged face, and he watched night deepen
+      over the isles, the golden night of St. Petersburg. It was not quite yet
+      the time of year for what they call the golden nights there, the &ldquo;white
+      nights,&rdquo; nights which never deepen to darkness, but they were already
+      beautiful in their soft clarity, caressed, here by the Gulf of Finland,
+      almost at the same time by the last and the first rays of the sun, by
+      twilight and dawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the height of the veranda one of the most beautiful bits of the isles
+      lay in view, and the hour was so lovely that its charm thrilled these
+      people, of whom several, as Thaddeus, were still close to nature. It was
+      he, first, who called to Natacha:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha! Natacha! Sing us your &lsquo;Soir des Iles.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha&rsquo;s voice floated out upon the peace of the islands under the dim
+      arched sky, light and clear as a night rose, and the guzla of Boris
+      accompanied it. Natacha sang:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the night of the Isles&mdash;at the north of the world. The sky
+      presses in its stainless arms the bosom of earth, Night kisses the rose
+      that dawn gave to the twilight. And the night air is sweet and fresh from
+      across the shivering gulf, Like the breath of young girls from the world
+      still farther north. Beneath the two lighted horizons, sinking and rising
+      at once, The sun rolls rebounding from the gods at the north of the world.
+      In this moment, beloved, when in the clear shadows of this rose-stained
+      evening I am here alone with you, Respond, respond with a heart less timid
+      to the holy, accustomed cry of &lsquo;Good-evening.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ah, how Boris Nikolaievitch and Michael Korsakoff watched her as she sang!
+      Truly, no one ever can guess the anger or the love that broods in a Slavic
+      heart under a soldier&rsquo;s tunic, whether the soldier wisely plays at the
+      guzla, as the correct Boris, or merely lounges, twirling his mustache with
+      his manicured and perfumed fingers, like Michael, the indifferent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha ceased singing, but all seemed to be listening to her still&mdash;the
+      convivial group on the terrace appeared to be held in charmed attention,
+      and the porcelain statuettes of men on the lawn, according to the mode of
+      the Iles, seemed to lift on their short legs the better to hear pass the
+      sighing harmony of Natacha in the rose nights at the north of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile Matrena wandered through the house from cellar to attic,
+      watching over her husband like a dog on guard, ready to bite, to throw
+      itself in the way of danger, to receive the blows, to die for its master&mdash;and
+      hunting for Rouletabille, who had disappeared again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      III. THE WATCH
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      She went out to caution the servants to a strict watch, armed to the
+      teeth, before the gate all night long, and she crossed the deserted
+      garden. Under the veranda the schwitzar was spreading a mattress for
+      Ermolai. She asked him if he had seen the young Frenchman anywhere, and
+      after the answer, could only say to herself, &ldquo;Where is he, then?&rdquo; Where
+      had Rouletabille gone? The general, whom she had carried up to his room on
+      her back, without any help, and had helped into bed without assistance,
+      was disturbed by this singular disappearance. Had someone already carried
+      off &ldquo;their&rdquo; Rouletabille? Their friends were gone and the orderlies had
+      taken leave without being able to say where this boy of a journalist had
+      gone. But it would be foolish to worry about the disappearance of a
+      Journalist, they had said. That kind of man&mdash;these journalists&mdash;came,
+      went, arrived when one least expected them, and quitted their company&mdash;even
+      the highest society&mdash;without formality. It was what they called in
+      France &ldquo;leaving English fashion.&rdquo; However, it appeared it was not meant to
+      be impolite. Perhaps he had gone to telegraph. A journalist had to keep in
+      touch with the telegraph at all hours. Poor Matrena Petrovna roamed the
+      solitary garden in tumult of heart. There was the light in the general&rsquo;s
+      window on the first floor. There were lights in the basement from the
+      kitchens. There was a light on the ground-floor near the sitting-room,
+      from Natacha&rsquo;s chamber window. Ah, the night was hard to bear. And this
+      night the shadows weighed heavier than ever on the valiant breast of
+      Matrena. As she breathed she felt as though she lifted all the weight of
+      the threatening night. She examined everything&mdash;everything. All was
+      shut tight, was perfectly secure, and there was no one within excepting
+      people she was absolutely sure of&mdash;but whom, all the same, she did
+      not allow to go anywhere in the house excepting where their work called
+      them. Each in his place. That made things surer. She wished each one could
+      remain fixed like the porcelain statues of men out on the lawn. Even as
+      she thought it, here at her feet, right at her very feet, a shadow of one
+      of the porcelain men moved, stretched itself out, rose to its knees,
+      grasped her skirt and spoke in the voice of Rouletabille. Ah, good! it was
+      Rouletabille. &ldquo;Himself, dear madame; himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why is Ermolai in the veranda? Send him back to the kitchens and tell the
+      schwitzar to go to bed. The servants are enough for an ordinary guard
+      outside. Then you go in at once, shut the door, and don&rsquo;t concern yourself
+      about me, dear madame. Good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille had resumed, in the shadows, among the other porcelain
+      figures, his pose of a porcelain man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna did as she was told, returned to the house, spoke to the
+      schwitzar, who removed to the lodge with Ermolai, and their mistress
+      closed the outside door. She had closed long before the door of the
+      kitchen stair which allowed the domestics to enter the villa from below.
+      Down there each night the devoted gniagnia and the faithful Ermolai
+      watched in turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Within the villa, now closed, there were on the ground-floor only Matrena
+      herself and her step-daughter Natacha, who slept in the chamber off the
+      sitting-room, and, above on the first floor, the general asleep, or who
+      ought to be asleep if he had taken his potion. Matrena remained in the
+      darkness of the drawing-room, her dark-lantern in her hand. All her nights
+      passed thus, gliding from door to door, from chamber to chamber, watching
+      over the watch of the police, not daring to stop her stealthy promenade
+      even to throw herself on the mattress that she had placed across the
+      doorway of her husband&rsquo;s chamber. Did she ever sleep? She herself could
+      hardly say. Who else could, then? A tag of sleep here and there, over the
+      arm of a chair, or leaning against the wall, waked always by some noise
+      that she heard or dreamed, some warning, perhaps, that she alone had
+      heard. And to-night, to-night there is Rouletabille&rsquo;s alert guard to help
+      her, and she feels a little less the aching terror of watchfulness, until
+      there surges back into her mind the recollection that the police are no
+      longer there. Was he right, this young man? Certainly she could not deny
+      that some way she feels more confidence now that the police are gone. She
+      does not have to spend her time watching their shadows in the shadows,
+      searching the darkness, the arm-chairs, the sofas, to rouse them, to
+      appeal in low tones to all they held binding, by their own name and the
+      name of their father, to promise them a bonus that would amount to
+      something if they watched well, to count them in order to know where they
+      all were, and, suddenly, to throw full in their face the ray of light from
+      her little dark-lantern in order to be sure, absolutely sure, that she was
+      face to face with them, one of the police, and not with some other, some
+      other with an infernal machine under his arm. Yes, she surely had less
+      work now that she had no longer to watch the police. And she had less
+      fear!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She thanked the young reporter for that. Where was he? Did he remain in
+      the pose of a porcelain statue all this time out there on the lawn? She
+      peered through the lattice of the veranda shutters and looked anxiously
+      out into the darkened garden. Where could he be? Was that he, down yonder,
+      that crouching black heap with an unlighted pipe in his mouth? No, no.
+      That, she knew well, was the dwarf she genuinely loved, her little
+      domovoi-doukh, the familiar spirit of the house, who watched with her over
+      the general&rsquo;s life and thanks to whom serious injury had not yet befallen
+      Feodor Feodorovitch&mdash;one could not regard a mangled leg that
+      seriously. Ordinarily in her own country (she was from the Orel district)
+      one did not care to see the domovoi-doukh appear in flesh and blood. When
+      she was little she was always afraid that she would come upon him around a
+      turn of the path in her father&rsquo;s garden. She always thought of him as no
+      higher than that, seated back on his haunches and smoking his pipe. Then,
+      after she was married, she had suddenly run across him at a turning in the
+      bazaar at Moscow. He was just as she had imagined him, and she had
+      immediately bought him, carried him home herself and placed him, with many
+      precautions, for he was of very delicate porcelain, in the vestibule of
+      the palace. And in leaving Moscow she had been careful not to leave him
+      there. She had carried him herself in a case and had placed him herself on
+      the lawn of the datcha des Iles, that he might continue to watch over her
+      happiness and over the life of her Feodor. And in order that he should not
+      be bored, eternally smoking his pipe all alone, she had surrounded him
+      with a group of little porcelain genii, after the fashion of the Jardins
+      des Iles. Lord! how that young Frenchman had frightened her, rising
+      suddenly like that, without warning, on the lawn. She had believed for a
+      moment that it was the domovoi-doukh himself rising to stretch his legs.
+      Happily he had spoken at once and she had recognized his voice. And
+      besides, her domovoi surely would not speak French. Ah! Matrena Petrovna
+      breathed freely now. It seemed to her, this night, that there were two
+      little familiar genii watching over the house. And that was worth more
+      than all the police in the world, surely. How wily that little fellow was
+      to order all those men away. There was something it was necessary to know;
+      it was necessary therefore that nothing should be in the way of learning
+      it. As things were now, the mystery could operate without suspicion or
+      interference. Only one man watched it, and he had not the air of watching.
+      Certainly Rouletabille had not the air of constantly watching anything. He
+      had the manner, out in the night, of an easy little man in porcelain,
+      neither more nor less, yet he could see everything&mdash;if anything were
+      there to see&mdash;and he could hear everything&mdash;if there were
+      anything to hear. One passed beside him without suspecting him, and men
+      might talk to each other without an idea that he heard them, and even talk
+      to themselves according to the habit people have sometimes when they think
+      themselves quite alone. All the guests had departed thus, passing close by
+      him, almost brushing him, had exchanged their &ldquo;Adieus,&rdquo; their &ldquo;Au
+      revoirs,&rdquo; and all their final, drawn-out farewells. That dear little
+      living domovoi certainly was a rogue! Oh, that dear little domovoi who had
+      been so affected by the tears of Matrena Petrovna! The good, fat,
+      sentimental, heroic woman longed to hear, just then, his reassuring voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is I. Here I am,&rdquo; said the voice of her little living familiar spirit
+      at that instant, and she felt her skirt grasped. She waited for what he
+      should say. She felt no fear. Yet she had supposed he was outside the
+      house. Still, after all, she was not too astonished that he was within. He
+      was so adroit! He had entered behind her, in the shadow of her skirts, on
+      all-fours, and had slipped away without anyone noticing him, while she was
+      speaking to her enormous, majestic schwitzar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you were here?&rdquo; she said, taking his hand and pressing it nervously in
+      hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes. I have watched you closing the house. It is a task well-done,
+      certainly. You have not forgotten anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where were you, dear little demon? I have been into all the corners,
+      and my hands did not touch you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was under the table set with hors-d&rsquo;oeuvres in the sitting-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, under the table of zakouskis! I have forbidden them before now to
+      spread a long hanging cloth there, which obliges me to kick my foot
+      underneath casually in order to be sure there is no one beneath. It is
+      imprudent, very imprudent, such table-cloths. And under the table of
+      zakouskis have you been able to see or hear anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, do you think that anyone could possibly see or hear anything in
+      the villa when you are watching it alone, when the general is asleep and
+      your step-daughter is preparing for bed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. No. I do not believe so. I do not. No, oh, Christ!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They talked thus very low in the dark, both seated in a corner of the
+      sofa, Rouletabille&rsquo;s hand held tightly in the burning hands of Matrena
+      Petrovna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed anxiously. &ldquo;And in the garden&mdash;have you heard anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard the officer Boris say to the officer Michael, in French, &lsquo;Shall
+      we return at once to the villa?&rsquo; The other replied in Russian in a way I
+      could see was a refusal. Then they had a discussion in Russian which I,
+      naturally, could not understand. But from the way they talked I gathered
+      that they disagreed and that no love was lost between them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, they do not love each other. They both love Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she, which one of them does she love? It is necessary to tell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She pretends that she loves Boris, and I believe she does, and yet she is
+      very friendly with Michael and often she goes into nooks and corners to
+      chat with him, which makes Boris mad with jealousy. She has forbidden
+      Boris to speak to her father about their marriage, on the pretext that she
+      does not wish to leave her father now, while each day, each minute the
+      general&rsquo;s life is in danger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, madame&mdash;do you love your step-daughter?&rdquo; brutally inquired
+      the reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;sincerely,&rdquo; replied Matrena Petrovna, withdrawing her hand from
+      those of Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she&mdash;does she love you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe so, monsieur, I believe so sincerely. Yes, she loves me, and
+      there is not any reason why she should not love me. I believe&mdash;understand
+      me thoroughly, because it comes from my heart&mdash;that we all here in
+      this house love one another. Our friends are old proved friends. Boris has
+      been orderly to my husband for a very long time. We do not share any of
+      his too-modern ideas, and there were many discussions on the duty of
+      soldiers at the time of the massacres. I reproached him with being as
+      womanish as we were in going down on his knees to the general behind
+      Natacha and me, when it became necessary to kill all those poor moujiks of
+      Presnia. It was not his role. A soldier is a soldier. My husband raised
+      him roughly and ordered him, for his pains, to march at the head of the
+      troops. It was right. What else could he do? The general already had
+      enough to fight against, with the whole revolution, with his conscience,
+      with the natural pity in his heart of a brave man, and with the tears and
+      insupportable moanings, at such a moment, of his daughter and his wife.
+      Boris understood and obeyed him, but, after the death of the poor
+      students, he behaved again like a woman in composing those verses on the
+      heroes of the barricades; don&rsquo;t you think so? Verses that Natacha and he
+      learned by heart, working together, when they were surprised at it by the
+      general. There was a terrible scene. It was before the next-to-the-last
+      attack. The general then had the use of both legs. He stamped his feet and
+      fairly shook the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;a propos of the attacks, you must tell me
+      about the third.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said this, leaning toward her, Matrena Petrovna ejaculated a
+      &ldquo;Listen!&rdquo; that made him rigid in the night with ear alert. What had she
+      heard? For him, he had heard nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hear nothing?&rdquo; she whispered to him with an effort. &ldquo;A tick-tack?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I hear nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know&mdash;like the tick-tack of a clock. Listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you hear the tick-tack? I&rsquo;ve noticed that no clocks are running
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you understand? It is so that we shall be able to hear the
+      tick-tack better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I understand. But I do not hear anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For myself, I think I hear the tick-tack all the time since the last
+      attempt. It haunts my ears, it is frightful, to say to one&rsquo;s self: There
+      is clockwork somewhere, just about to reach the death-tick&mdash;and not
+      to know where, not to know where! When the police were here I made them
+      all listen, and I was not sure even when they had all listened and said
+      there was no tick-tack. It is terrible to hear it in my ear any moment
+      when I least expect it. Tick-tack! Tick-tack! It is the blood beating in
+      my ear, for instance, hard, as if it struck on a sounding-board. Why, here
+      are drops of perspiration on my hands! Listen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, this time someone is talking&mdash;is crying,&rdquo; said the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sh-h-h!&rdquo; And Rouletabille felt the rigid hand of Matrena Petrovna on his
+      arm. &ldquo;It is the general. The general is dreaming!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew him into the dining-room, into a corner where they could no
+      longer hear the moanings. But all the doors that communicated with the
+      dining-room, the drawing-room and the sitting-room remained open behind
+      him, by the secret precaution of Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He waited while Matrena, whose breath he heard come hard, was a little
+      behind. In a moment, quite talkative, and as though she wished to distract
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s attention from the sounds above, the broken words and
+      sighs, she continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See, you speak of clocks. My husband has a watch which strikes. Well, I
+      have stopped his watch because more than once I have been startled by
+      hearing the tick-tack of his watch in his waistcoat-pocket. Koupriane gave
+      me that advice one day when he was here and had pricked his ears at the
+      noise of the pendulums, to stop all my watches and clocks so that there
+      would be no chance of confusing them with the tick-tack that might come
+      from an infernal machine planted in some corner. He spoke from experience,
+      my dear little monsieur, and it was by his order that all the clocks at
+      the Ministry, on the Naberjnaia, were stopped, my dear little friend. The
+      Nihilists, he told me, often use clockworks to set off their machines at
+      the time they decide on. No one can guess all the inventions that they
+      have, those brigands. In the same way, Koupriane advised me to take away
+      all the draught-boards from the fireplaces. By that precaution they were
+      enabled to avoid a terrible disaster at the Ministry near the
+      Pont-des-chantres, you know, petit demovoi? They saw a bomb just as it was
+      being lowered into the fire-place of the minister&rsquo;s cabinet.* The
+      Nihilists held it by a cord and were up on the roof letting it down the
+      chimney. One of them was caught, taken to Schlusselbourg and hanged. Here
+      you can see that all the draught-boards of the fireplaces are cleared
+      away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     *Actual attack on Witte.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; interrupted Rouletabille (Matrena Petrovna did not know that no
+      one ever succeeded in distracting Rouletabille&rsquo;s attention), &ldquo;madame,
+      someone moans still, upstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that is nothing, my little friend. It is the general, who has bad
+      nights. He cannot sleep without a narcotic, and that gives him a fever. I
+      am going to tell you now how the third attack came about. And then you
+      will understand, by the Virgin Mary, how it is I have yet, always have,
+      the tick-tack in my ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One evening when the general had got to sleep and I was in my own room, I
+      heard distinctly the tick-tack of clockwork operating. All the clocks had
+      been stopped, as Koupriane advised, and I had made an excuse to send
+      Feodor&rsquo;s great watch to the repairer. You can understand how I felt when I
+      heard that tick-tack. I was frenzied. I turned my head in all directions,
+      and decided that the sound came from my husband&rsquo;s chamber. I ran there. He
+      still slept, man that he is! The tick-tack was there. But where? I turned
+      here and there like a fool. The chamber was in darkness and it seemed
+      absolutely impossible for me to light a lamp because I thought I could not
+      take the time for fear the infernal machine would go off in those few
+      seconds. I threw myself on the floor and listened under the bed. The noise
+      came from above. But where? I sprang to the fireplace, hoping that,
+      against my orders, someone had started the mantel-clock. No, it was not
+      that! It seemed to me now that the tick-tack came from the bed itself,
+      that the machine was in the bed. The general awaked just then and cried to
+      me, &lsquo;What is it, Matrena? What are you doing?&rsquo; And he raised himself in
+      bed, while I cried, &lsquo;Listen! Hear the tick-tack. Don&rsquo;t you hear the
+      tick-tack?&rsquo; I threw myself upon him and gathered him up in my arms to
+      carry him, but I trembled too much, was too weak from fear, and fell back
+      with him onto the bed, crying, &lsquo;Help!&rsquo; He thrust me away and said roughly,
+      &lsquo;Listen.&rsquo; The frightful tick-tack was behind us now, on the table. But
+      there was nothing on the table, only the night-light, the glass with the
+      potion in it, and a gold vase where I had placed with my own hands that
+      morning a cluster of grasses and wild flowers that Ermolai had brought
+      that morning on his return from the Orel country. With one bound I was on
+      the table and at the flowers. I struck my fingers among the grasses and
+      the flowers, and felt a resistance. The tick-tack was in the bouquet! I
+      took the bouquet in both hands, opened the window and threw it as far as I
+      could into the garden. At the same moment the bomb burst with a terrible
+      noise, giving me quite a deep wound in the hand. Truly, my dear little
+      domovoi, that day we had been very near death, but God and the Little
+      Father watched over us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Matrena Petrovna made the sign of the cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the windows of the house were broken. In all, we escaped with the
+      fright and a visit from the glazier, my little friend, but I certainly
+      believed that all was over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Mademoiselle Natacha?&rdquo; inquired Rouletabille. &ldquo;She must also have
+      been terribly frightened, because the whole house must have rocked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely. But Natacha was not here that night. It was a Saturday. She had
+      been invited to the soiree du &lsquo;Michel&rsquo; by the parents of Boris
+      Nikolaievitch, and she slept at their house, after supper at the Ours, as
+      had been planned. The next day, when she learned the danger the general
+      had escaped, she trembled in every limb. She threw herself in her father&rsquo;s
+      arms, weeping, which was natural enough, and declared that she never would
+      go away from him again. The general told her how I had managed. Then she
+      pressed me to her heart, saying that she never would forget such an
+      action, and that she loved me more than if I were truly her mother. It was
+      all in vain that during the days following we sought to understand how the
+      infernal machine had been placed in the bouquet of wild flowers. Only the
+      general&rsquo;s friends that you saw this evening, Natacha and I had entered the
+      general&rsquo;s chamber during the day or in the evening. No servant, no
+      chamber-maid, had been on that floor. In the day-time as well as all night
+      long that entire floor is closed and I have the keys. The door of the
+      servants&rsquo; staircase which opens onto that floor, directly into the
+      general&rsquo;s chamber, is always locked and barred on the inside with iron.
+      Natacha and I do the chamber work. There is no way of taking greater
+      precautions. Three police agents watched over us night and day. The night
+      of the bouquet two had spent their time watching around the house, and the
+      third lay on the sofa in the veranda. Then, too, we found all the doors
+      and windows of the villa shut tight. In such circumstances you can judge
+      whether my anguish was not deeper than any I had known hitherto. Because
+      to whom, henceforth, could we trust ourselves? what and whom could we
+      believe? what and whom could we watch? From that day, no other person but
+      Natacha and me have the right to go to the first floor. The general&rsquo;s
+      chamber was forbidden to his friends. Anyway, the general improved, and
+      soon had the pleasure of receiving them himself at his table. I carry the
+      general down and take him to his room again on my back. I do not wish
+      anyone to help. I am strong enough for that. I feel that I could carry him
+      to the end of the world if that would save him. Instead of three police,
+      we had ten; five outside, five inside. The days went well enough, but the
+      nights were frightful, because the shadows of the police that I
+      encountered always made me fear that I was face to face with the
+      Nihilists. One night I almost strangled one with my hand. It was after
+      that incident that we arranged with Koupriane that the agents who watched
+      at night, inside, should stay placed in the veranda, after having, at the
+      end of the evening, made complete examination of everything. They were not
+      to leave the veranda unless they heard a suspicious noise or I called to
+      them. And it was after that arrangement that the incident of the floor
+      happened, that has puzzled so both Koupriane and me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, madame,&rdquo; interrupted Rouletabille, &ldquo;but the agents, during the
+      examination of everything, never went to the bedroom floor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my child, there is only myself and Natacha, I repeat, who, since the
+      bouquet, go there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, madame, it is necessary to take me there at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At once!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, into the general&rsquo;s chamber.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he is sleeping, my child. Let me tell you exactly how the affair of
+      the floor happened, and you will know as much of it as I and as
+      Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the general&rsquo;s chamber at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took both his hands and pressed them nervously. &ldquo;Little friend! Little
+      friend! One hears there sometimes things which are the secret of the
+      night! You understand me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the general&rsquo;s chamber, at once, madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Abruptly she decided to take him there, agitated, upset as she was by
+      ideas and sentiments which held her without respite between the wildest
+      inquietude and the most imprudent audacity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IV. &ldquo;THE YOUTH OF MOSCOW IS DEAD&rdquo;
+     </h2>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille let himself be led by Matrena through the night, but he
+      stumbled and his awkward hands struck against various things. The ascent
+      to the first floor was accomplished in profound silence. Nothing broke it
+      except that restless moaning which had so affected the young man just
+      before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tepid warmth, the perfume of a woman&rsquo;s boudoir, then, beyond, through
+      two doors opening upon the dressing-room which lay between Matrena&rsquo;s
+      chamber and Feodor&rsquo;s, the dim luster of a night-lamp showed the bed where
+      was stretched the sleeping tyrant of Moscow. Ah, he was frightening to
+      see, with the play of faint yellow light and diffused shadows upon him.
+      Such heavy-arched eyebrows, such an aspect of pain and menace, the massive
+      jaw of a savage come from the plains of Tartary to be the Scourge of God,
+      the stiff, thick, spreading beard. This was a form akin to the gallery of
+      old nobles at Kasan, and young Rouletabille imagined him as none other
+      than Ivan the Terrible himself. Thus appeared as he slept the excellent
+      Feodor Feodorovitch, the easy, spoiled father of the family table, the
+      friend of the advocate celebrated for his feats with knife and fork and of
+      the bantering timber-merchant and amiable bear-hunter, the joyous Thaddeus
+      and Athanase; Feodor, the faithful spouse of Matrena Petrovna and the
+      adored papa of Natacha, a brave man who was so unfortunate as to have
+      nights of cruel sleeplessness or dreams more frightful still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment a hoarse sigh heaved his huge chest in an uneven rhythm,
+      and Rouletabille, leaning in the doorway of the dressing-room, watched&mdash;but
+      it was no longer the general that he watched, it was something else, lower
+      down, beside the wall, near the door, and it was that which set him
+      tiptoeing so lightly across the floor that it gave no sound. There was no
+      slightest sound in the chamber, except the heavy breathing lifting the
+      rough chest. Behind Rouletabille Matrena raised her arms, as though she
+      wished to hold him back, because she did not know where he was going. What
+      was he doing? Why did he stoop thus beside the door and why did he press
+      his thumb all along the floor at the doorway? He rose again and returned.
+      He passed again before the bed, where rumbled now, like the bellows of a
+      forge, the respiration of the sleeper. Matrena grasped Rouletabille by the
+      hand. And she had already hurried him into the dressing-room when a moan
+      stopped them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The youth of Moscow is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the sleeper speaking. The mouth which had given the stringent
+      orders moaned. And the lamentation was still a menace. In the haunted
+      sleep thrust upon that man by the inadequate narcotic the words Feodor
+      Feodorovitch spoke were words of mourning and pity. This perfect fiend of
+      a soldier, whom neither bullets nor bombs could intimidate, had a way of
+      saying words which transformed their meaning as they came from his
+      terrible mouth. The listeners could not but feel absorbed in the tones of
+      the brutal victor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna and Rouletabille had leant their two shadows, blended one
+      into the other, against the open doorway just beyond the gleam of the
+      night-lamp, and they heard with horror:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The youth of Moscow is dead! They have cleared away the corpses. There is
+      nothing but ruin left. The Kremlin itself has shut its gates&mdash;that it
+      may not see. The youth of Moscow is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor Feodorovitch&rsquo;s fist shook above his bed; it seemed that he was
+      about to strike, to kill again, and Rouletabille felt Matrena trembling
+      against him, while he trembled as well before the fearful vision of the
+      killer in the Red Week!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor heaved an immense sigh and his breast descended under the
+      bed-clothes, the fist relaxed and fell, the great head lay over on its
+      ear. There was silence. Had he repose at last? No, no. He sighed, he
+      choked anew, he tossed on his couch like the damned in torment, and the
+      words written by his daughter&mdash;by his daughter&mdash;blazed in his
+      eyes, which now were wide open&mdash;words written on the wall, that he
+      read on the wall, written in blood.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;The youth of Moscow is dead!  They had gone so young into the
+     fields and into the mines,
+  And they had not found a single corner of the Russian land where
+     there were not moanings.
+  Now the youth of Moscow is dead and no more moanings are heard,
+  Because those for whom all youth died do not dare even to moan
+     any more.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      But&mdash;what? The voice of Feodor lost its threatening tone. His breath
+      came as from a weeping child. And it was with sobs in his throat that he
+      said the last verse, the verse written by his daughter in the album, in
+      red letters:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;The last barricade had standing there the girl of eighteen
+     winters, the virgin of Moscow, flower of the snow.
+  Who gave her kisses to the workmen struck by the bullets
+     from the soldiers of the Czar;
+  &ldquo;She aroused the admiration of the very soldiers who, weeping,
+     killed her:
+  &ldquo;What killing!  All the houses shuttered, the windows with heavy
+     eyelids of plank in order not to see!&mdash;
+  &ldquo;And the Kremlin itself has closed its gates&mdash;that it may
+     not see.
+  &ldquo;The youth of Moscow is dead!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feodor! Feodor!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had caught him in her arms, holding him fast, comforting him while
+      still he raved, &ldquo;The youth of Moscow is dead,&rdquo; and appeared to thrust away
+      with insensate gestures a crowd of phantoms. She crushed him to her
+      breast, she put her hands over his mouth to make him stop, but he, saying,
+      &ldquo;Do you hear? Do you hear? What do they say? They say nothing, now. What a
+      tangle of bodies under the sleigh, Matrena! Look at those frozen legs of
+      those poor girls we pass, sticking out in all directions, like logs, from
+      under their icy, blooded skirts. Look, Matrena!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then came further delirium uttered in Russian, which was all the more
+      terrible to Rouletabille because he could not comprehend it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, suddenly, Feodor became silent and thrust away Matrena Petrovna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is that abominable narcotic,&rdquo; he said with an immense sigh. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+      drink no more of it. I do not wish to drink it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With one hand he pointed to a large glass on the table beside him, still
+      half full of a soporific mixture with which he moistened his lips each
+      time he woke; with the other hand he wiped the perspiration from his face.
+      Matrena Petrovna stayed trembling near him, suddenly overpowered by the
+      idea that he might discover there was someone there behind the door, who
+      had seen and heard the sleep of General Trebassof! Ah, if he learned that,
+      everything was over. She might say her prayers; she should die.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Rouletabille was careful to give no sign. He barely breathed. What a
+      nightmare! He understood now the emotion of the general&rsquo;s friends when
+      Natacha had sung in her low, sweet voice, &ldquo;Good-night. May your eyes have
+      rest from tears and calm re-enter your heart oppressed.&rdquo; The friends had
+      certainly been made aware, by Matrena&rsquo;s anxious talking, of the general&rsquo;s
+      insomnia, and they could not repress their tears as they listened to the
+      poetic wish of charming Natacha. &ldquo;All the same,&rdquo; thought Rouletabille, &ldquo;no
+      one could imagine what I have just seen. They are not dead for everyone in
+      the world, the youths of Moscow, and every night I know now a chamber
+      where in the glow of the night-lamp they rise&mdash;they rise&mdash;they
+      rise!&rdquo; and the young man frankly, naively regretted to have intruded where
+      he was; to have penetrated, however unintentionally, into an affair which,
+      after all, concerned only the many dead and the one living. Why had he
+      come to put himself between the dead and the living? It might be said to
+      him: &ldquo;The living has done his whole heroic duty,&rdquo; but the dead, what else
+      was it that they had done?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ah, Rouletabille cursed his curiosity, for&mdash;he saw it now&mdash;it
+      was the desire to approach the mystery revealed by Koupriane and to
+      penetrate once more, through all the besetting dangers, an astounding and
+      perhaps monstrous enigma, that had brought him to the threshold of the
+      datcha des Iles, which had placed him in the trembling hands of Matrena
+      Petrovna in promising her his help. He had shown pity, certainly, pity for
+      the delirious distress of that heroic woman. But there had been more
+      curiosity than pity in his motives. And now he must pay, because it was
+      too late now to withdraw, to say casually, &ldquo;I wash my hands of it.&rdquo; He had
+      sent away the police and he alone remained between the general and the
+      vengeance of the dead! He might desert, perhaps! That one idea brought him
+      to himself, roused all his spirit. Circumstances had brought him into a
+      camp that he must defend at any cost, unless he was afraid!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general slept now, or, at least, with eyelids closed simulated sleep,
+      doubtless in order to reassure poor Matrena who, on her knees beside his
+      pillow, had retained the hand of her terrible husband in her own. Shortly
+      she rose and rejoined Rouletabille in her chamber. She took him then to a
+      little guest-chamber where she urged him to get some sleep. He replied
+      that it was she who needed rest. But, agitated still by what had just
+      happened, she babbled:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no! after such a scene I would have nightmares myself as well. Ah, it
+      is dreadful! Appalling! Appalling! Dear little monsieur, it is the secret
+      of the night. The poor man! Poor unhappy man! He cannot tear his thoughts
+      away from it. It is his worst and unmerited punishment, this translation
+      that Natacha has made of Boris&rsquo;s abominable verses. He knows them by
+      heart, they are in his brain and on his tongue all night long, in spite of
+      narcotics, and he says over and over again all the time, &lsquo;It is my
+      daughter who has written that!&mdash;my daughter!&mdash;my daughter!&rsquo; It
+      is enough to wring all the tears from one&rsquo;s body&mdash;that an aide-de-camp
+      of a general, who himself has killed the youth of Moscow, is allowed to
+      write such verses and that Natacha should take it upon herself to
+      translate them into lovely poetic French for her album. It is hard to
+      account for what they do nowadays, to our misery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She ceased, for just then they heard the floor creak under a step
+      downstairs. Rouletabille stopped Matrena short and drew his revolver. He
+      wished to creep down alone, but he had not time. As the floor creaked a
+      second time, Matrena&rsquo;s anguished voice called down the staircase in
+      Russian, &ldquo;Who is there?&rdquo; and immediately the calm voice of Natacha
+      answered something in the same language. Then Matrena, trembling more and
+      more, and very much excited keeping steadily to the same place as though
+      she had been nailed to the step of the stairway, said in French, &ldquo;Yes, all
+      is well; your father is resting. Good-night, Natacha.&rdquo; They heard
+      Natacha&rsquo;s step cross the drawing-room and the sitting-room. Then the door
+      of her chamber closed. Matrena and Rouletabille descended, holding their
+      breath. They reached the dining-room and Matrena played her dark-lantern
+      on the sofa where the general always reclined. The sofa was in its usual
+      place on the carpet. She pushed it back and raised the carpet, laying the
+      floor bare. Then she got onto her knees and examined the floor minutely.
+      She rose, wiping the perspiration from her brow, put the carpet hack in
+      place, adjusted the sofa and dropped upon it with a great sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; demanded Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing at all,&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you call so openly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because there was no doubt that it could only be my step-daughter on the
+      ground-floor at that hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why this anxiety to examine the floor again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I entreat you, my dear little child, do not see in my acts anything
+      mysterious, anything hard to explain. That anxiety you speak of never
+      leaves me. Whenever I have the chance I examine the flooring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; demanded the young man, &ldquo;what was your daughter doing in this
+      room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She came for a glass of mineral water; the bottle is still on the table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, it is necessary that you tell me precisely what Koupriane has
+      only hinted to me, unless I am entirely mistaken. The first time that you
+      thought to examine the floor, was it after you heard a noise on the
+      ground-floor such as has just happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I will tell you all that is necessary. It was the night after the
+      attempt with the bouquet, my dear little monsieur, my dear little domovoi;
+      it seemed to me I heard a noise on the ground-floor. I hurried downstairs
+      and saw nothing suspicious at first. Everything was shut tight. I opened
+      the door of Natacha&rsquo;s chamber softly. I wished to ask her if she had heard
+      anything. But she was so fast asleep that I had not the heart to awaken
+      her. I opened the door of the veranda, and all the police&mdash;all, you
+      understand&mdash;slept soundly. I took another turn around the furniture,
+      and, with my lantern in my hand, I was just going out of the dining-room
+      when I noticed that the carpet on the floor was disarranged at one corner.
+      I got down and my hand struck a great fold of carpet near the general&rsquo;s
+      sofa. You would have said that the sofa had been rolled carelessly, trying
+      to replace it in the position it usually occupied. Prompted by a sinister
+      presentiment, I pushed away the sofa and I lifted the carpet. At first
+      glance I saw nothing, but when I examined things closer I saw that a strip
+      of wood did not lie well with the others on the floor. With a knife I was
+      able to lift that strip and I found that two nails which had fastened it
+      to the beam below had been freshly pulled out. It was just so I could
+      raise the end of the board a little without being able to slip my hand
+      under. To lift it any more it would be necessary to pull at least
+      half-a-dozen nails. What could it mean? Was I on the point of discovering
+      some new terrible and mysterious plan? I let the board fall back into
+      place. I spread the carpet back again carefully, put the sofa in its
+      place, and in the morning sent for Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had not, madame, spoken to anyone of this discovery?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To no one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not even to your step-daughter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the husky voice of Matrena, &ldquo;not even to my step-daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; demanded Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; replied Matrena, after a moment&rsquo;s hesitation, &ldquo;there were
+      already enough frightening things about the house. I would not have spoken
+      to my daughter any more than I would have said a word to the general. Why
+      add to the disquiet they already suffered so much, in case nothing
+      developed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what did Koupriane say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We examined the floor together, secretly. Koupriane slipped his hand
+      under more easily than I had done, and ascertained that under the board,
+      that is to say between the beam and the ceiling of the kitchen, there was
+      a hollow where any number of things might be placed. For the moment the
+      board was still too little released for any maneuver to be possible.
+      Koupriane, when he rose, said to me, &lsquo;You have happened, madame, to
+      interrupt the person in her operations. But we are prepared henceforth. We
+      know what she does and she is unaware that we know. Act as though you had
+      not noticed anything; do not speak of it to anyone whatever&mdash;and
+      watch. Let the general continue to sit in his usual place and let no one
+      suspect that we have discovered the beginnings of this attempt. It is the
+      only way we can plan so that they will continue. All the same,&rsquo; he added,
+      &lsquo;I will give my agents orders to patrol the ground-floor anew during the
+      night. I would be risking too much to let the person continue her work
+      each night. She might continue it so well that she would be able to
+      accomplish it&mdash;you understand me? But by day you arrange that the
+      rooms on the ground-floor be free from time to time&mdash;not for long,
+      but from time to time.&rsquo; I don&rsquo;t know why, but what he said and the way he
+      said it frightened me more than ever. However, I carried out his program.
+      Then, three days later, about eight o&rsquo;clock, when the night watch was not
+      yet started, that is to say at the moment when the police were still all
+      out in the garden or walking around the house, outside, and when I had
+      left the the ground-floor perfectly free while I helped the general to
+      bed, I felt drawn even against myself suddenly to the dining-room. I
+      lifted the carpet and examined the floor. Three more nails had been drawn
+      from the board, which lifted more easily now, and under it, I could see
+      that the normal cavity had been made wider still!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When she had said this, Matrena stopped, as if, overcome, she could not
+      tell more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; insisted Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I replaced things as I found them and made rapid inquiries of the
+      police and their chief; no one had entered the ground-floor. You
+      understand me?&mdash;no one at all. Neither had anyone come out from it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could anyone come out if no one had entered?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to say,&rdquo; said she with a sob, &ldquo;that Natacha during this space of
+      time had been in her chamber, in her chamber on the ground-floor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You appear to be very disturbed, madame, at this recollection. Can you
+      tell me further, and precisely, why you are agitated?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You understand me, surely,&rdquo; she said, shaking her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I understand you correctly, I have to understand that from the
+      previous time you examined the floor until the time that you noted three
+      more nails drawn out, no other person could have entered the dining-room
+      but you and your step-daughter Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena took Rouletabille&rsquo;s hand as though she had reached an important
+      decision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My little friend,&rdquo; moaned she, &ldquo;there are things I am not able to think
+      about and which I can no longer entertain when Natacha embraces me. It is
+      a mystery more frightful than all else. Koupriane tells me that he is
+      sure, absolutely sure, of the agents he kept here; my sole consolation, do
+      you see, my little friend can tell you frankly, now that you have sent
+      away those men&mdash;my sole consolation since that day has been that
+      Koupriane is less sure of his men than I am of Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke down and sobbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When she was calmed, she looked for Rouletabille, and could not find him.
+      Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her dark-lantern, and, furtively, crept
+      to her post beside the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For that day these are the points in Rouletabille&rsquo;s notebook:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Topography: Villa surrounded by a large garden on three sides. The fourth
+      side gives directly onto a wooded field that stretches to the river Neva.
+      On this side the level of the ground is much lower, so low that the sole
+      window opening in that wall (the window of Natacha&rsquo;s sitting-room on the
+      ground-floor) is as high from the ground as though it were on the next
+      floor in any other part of the house. This window is closed by iron
+      shutters, fastened inside by a bar of iron.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friends: Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch, Thaddeus the
+      timber-merchant (peat boots), Michael and Boris (fine shoes). Matrena,
+      sincere love, blundering heroism. Natacha unknown. Against Natacha: Never
+      there during the attacks. At Moscow at the time of the bomb in the sleigh,
+      no one knows where she was, and it is she who should have accompanied the
+      general (detail furnished by Koupriane that Matrena generously kept back).
+      The night of the bouquet is the only night Natacha has slept away from the
+      house. Coincidence of the disappearance of the nails and the presence all
+      alone on the ground-floor of Natacha, in case, of course, Matrena did not
+      pull them out herself. For Natacha: Her eyes when she looks at her
+      father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And this bizarre phrase:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We mustn&rsquo;t be rash. This evening I have not yet spoken to Matrena
+      Petrovna about the little hat-pin. That little hat-pin is the greatest
+      relief of my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      V. BY ROULETABILLE&rsquo;S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, my dear little familiar spirit. The general slept
+      splendidly the latter part of the night. He did not touch his narcotic. I
+      am sure it is that dreadful mixture that gives him such frightful dreams.
+      And you, my dear little friend, you have not slept an instant. I know it.
+      I felt you going everywhere about the house like a little mouse. Ah, it
+      seems good, so good. I slept so peacefully, hearing the subdued movement
+      of your little steps. Thanks for the sleep you have given me, little
+      friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena talked on to Rouletabille, whom she had found the morning after
+      the nightmare tranquilly smoking his pipe in the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, ah, you smoke a pipe. Now you do certainly look exactly like a dear
+      little domovoi-doukh. See how much you are alike. He smokes just like you.
+      Nothing new, eh? You do not look very bright this morning. You are worn
+      out. I have just arranged the little guest-chamber for you, the only one
+      we have, just behind mine. Your bed is waiting for you. Is there anything
+      you need? Tell me. Everything here is at your service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not in need of anything, madame,&rdquo; said the young man smilingly, after
+      this outpouring of words from the good, heroic dame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you say that, dear child? You will make yourself sick. I want you
+      to understand that I wish you to rest. I want to be a mother to you, if
+      you please, and you must obey me, my child. Have you had breakfast yet
+      this morning? If you do not have breakfast promptly mornings, I will think
+      you are annoyed. I am so annoyed that you have heard the secret of the
+      night. I have been afraid that you would want to leave at once and for
+      good, and that you would have mistaken ideas about the general. There is
+      not a better man in the world than Feodor, and he must have a good, a very
+      good conscience to dare, without fail, to perform such terrible duties as
+      those at Moscow, when he is so good at heart. These things are easy enough
+      for wicked people, but for good men, for good men who can reason it out,
+      who know what they do and that they are condemned to death into the
+      bargain, it is terrible, it is terrible! Why, I told him the moment things
+      began to go wrong in Moscow, &lsquo;You know what to expect, Feodor. Here is a
+      dreadful time to get through&mdash;make out you are sick.&rsquo; I believed he
+      was going to strike me, to kill me on the spot. &lsquo;I! Betray the Emperor in
+      such a moment! His Majesty, to whom I owe everything! What are you
+      thinking of, Matrena Petrovna!&rsquo; And he did not speak to me after that for
+      two days. It was only when he saw I was growing very ill that he pardoned
+      me, but he had to be plagued with my jeremiads and the appealing looks of
+      Natacha without end in his own home each time we heard any shooting in the
+      street. Natacha attended the lectures of the Faculty, you know. And she
+      knew many of them, and even some of those who were being killed on the
+      barricades. Ah, life was not easy for him in his own home, the poor
+      general! Besides, there was also Boris, whom I love as well, for that
+      matter, as my own child, because I shall be very happy to see him married
+      to Natacha&mdash;there was poor Boris who always came home from the
+      attacks paler than a corpse and who could not keep from moaning with us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Michael?&rdquo; questioned Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Michael only came towards the last. He is a new orderly to the
+      general. The government at St. Petersburg sent him, because of course they
+      couldn&rsquo;t help learning that Boris rather lacked zeal in repressing the
+      students and did not encourage the general in being as severe as was
+      necessary for the safety of the Empire. But Michael, he has a heart of
+      stone; he knows nothing but the countersign and massacres fathers and
+      mothers, crying, &lsquo;Vive le Tsar!&rsquo; Truly, it seems his heart can only be
+      touched by the sight of Natacha. And that again has caused a good deal of
+      anxiety to Feodor and me. It has caught us in a useless complication that
+      we would have liked to end by the prompt marriage of Natacha and Boris.
+      But Natacha, to our great surprise, has not wished it to be so. No, she
+      has not wished it, saying that there is always time to think of her
+      wedding and that she is in no hurry to leave us. Meantime she entertains
+      herself with this Michael as if she did not fear his passion, and neither
+      has Michael the desperate air of a man who knows the definite engagement
+      of Natacha and Boris. And my step-daughter is not a coquette. No, no. No
+      one can say she is a coquette. At least, no one had been able to say it up
+      to the time that Michael arrived. Can it be that she is a coquette? They
+      are mysterious, these young girls, very mysterious, above all when they
+      have that calm and tranquil look that Natacha always has; a face,
+      monsieur, as you have noticed perhaps, whose beauty is rather passive
+      whatever one says and does, excepting when the volleys in the streets kill
+      her young comrades of the schools. Then I have seen her almost faint,
+      which proves she has a great heart under her tranquil beauty. Poor
+      Natacha! I have seen her excited as I over the life of her father. My
+      little friend, I have seen her searching in the middle of the night, with
+      me, for infernal machines under the furniture, and then she has expressed
+      the opinion that it is nervous, childish, unworthy of us to act like that,
+      like timid beasts under the sofas, and she has left me to search by
+      myself. True, she never quits the general. She is more reassured, and is
+      reassuring to him, at his side. It has an excellent moral effect on him,
+      while I walk about and search like a beast. And she has become as
+      fatalistic as he, and now she sings verses to the guzla, like Boris, or
+      talks in corners with Michael, which makes the two enraged each with the
+      other. They are curious, the young women of St. Petersburg and Moscow,
+      very curious. We were not like that in our time, at Orel. We did not try
+      to enrage people. We would have received a box on the ears if we had.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha came in upon this conversation, happy, in white voile, fresh and
+      smiling like a girl who had passed an excellent night. She asked after the
+      health of the young man very prettily and embraced Matrena, in truth as
+      one embraces a much-beloved mother. She complained again of Matrena&rsquo;s
+      night-watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not stopped it, mamma; you have not stopped it, eh? You are not
+      going to be a little reasonable at last? I beg of you! What has given me
+      such a mother! Why don&rsquo;t you sleep? Night is made for sleep. Koupriane has
+      upset you. All the terrible things are over in Moscow. There is no
+      occasion to think of them any more. That Koupriane makes himself important
+      with his police-agents and obsesses us all. I am convinced that the affair
+      of the bouquet was the work of his police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;I have just had them all sent away,
+      all of them&mdash;because I think very much the same as you do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, you will be my friend, Monsieur Rouletabille I promise you,
+      since you have done that. Now that the police are gone we have nothing
+      more to fear. Nothing. I tell you, mamma; you can believe me and not weep
+      any more, mamma dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; kiss me. Kiss me again!&rdquo; repeated Matrena, drying her eyes.
+      &ldquo;When you kiss me I forget everything. You love me like your own mother,
+      don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like my mother. Like my own mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have nothing to hide from me?&mdash;tell me, Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing to hide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why do you make Boris suffer so? Why don&rsquo;t you marry him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I don&rsquo;t wish to leave you, mamma dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She escaped further parley by jumping up on the garden edge away from
+      Khor, who had just been set free for the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The dear child,&rdquo; said Matrena; &ldquo;the dear little one, she little knows how
+      much pain she has caused us without being aware of it, by her ideas, her
+      extravagant ideas. Her father said to me one day at Moscow, &lsquo;Matrena
+      Petrovna, I&rsquo;ll tell you what I think&mdash;Natacha is the victim of the
+      wicked books that have turned the brains of all these poor rebellious
+      students. Yes, yes; it would be better for her and for us if she did not
+      know how to read, for there are moments&mdash;my word!&mdash;when she
+      talks very wildly, and I have said to myself more than once that with such
+      ideas her place is not in our salon hut behind a barricade. All the same,&rsquo; 
+      he added after reflection, &lsquo;I prefer to find her in the salon where I can
+      embrace her than behind a barricade where I would kill her like a mad
+      dog.&rsquo; But my husband, dear little monsieur, did not say what he really
+      thinks, for he loves his daughter more than all the rest of the world put
+      together, and there are things that even a general, yes, even a
+      governor-general, would not be able to do without violating both divine
+      and human laws. He suspects Boris also of setting Natacha&rsquo;s wits awry. We
+      really have to consider that when they are married they will read
+      everything they have a mind to. My husband has much more real respect for
+      Michael Korsakoff because of his impregnable character and his granite
+      conscience. More than once he has said, &lsquo;Here is the aide I should have
+      had in the worst days of Moscow. He would have spared me much of the
+      individual pain.&rsquo; I can understand how that would please the general, but
+      how such a tigerish nature succeeds in appealing to Natacha, how it
+      succeeds in not actually revolting her, these young girls of the capital,
+      one never can tell about them&mdash;they get away from all your notions of
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille inquired:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did Boris say to Michael, &lsquo;We will return together&rsquo;? Do they live
+      together?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, in the small villa on the Krestowsky Ostrov, the isle across from
+      ours, that you can see from the window of the sitting-room. Boris chose it
+      because of that. The orderlies wished to have camp-beds prepared for them
+      right here in the general&rsquo;s house, by a natural devotion to him; but I
+      opposed it, in order to keep them both from Natacha, in whom, of course, I
+      have the most complete confidence, but one cannot be sure about the
+      extravagance of men nowadays.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai came to announce the petit-dejeuner. They found Natacha already at
+      table and she poured them coffee and milk, eating away all the time at a
+      sandwich of anchovies and caviare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me, mamma, do you know what gives me such an appetite? It is the
+      thought of the way poor Koupriane must have taken this dismissal of his
+      men. I should like to go to see him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you see him,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;it is unnecessary to tell him that
+      the general will go for a long promenade among the isles this afternoon,
+      because without fail he would send us an escort of gendarmes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Papa! A promenade among the islands? Truly? Oh, that is going to be
+      lovely!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna sprang to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you mad, my dear little domovoi, actually mad?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? Why? It is fine. I must run and tell papa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father&rsquo;s room is locked,&rdquo; said Matrena brusquely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; he is locked in. You have the key. Locked away until death! You
+      will kill him. It will be you who kills him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She left the table without waiting for a reply and went and shut herself
+      also in her chamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena looked at Rouletabille, who continued his breakfast as though
+      nothing had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible that you speak seriously?&rdquo; she demanded, coming over and
+      sitting down beside him. &ldquo;A promenade! Without the police, when we have
+      received again this morning a letter saying now that before forty-eight
+      hours the general will be dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forty-eight hours,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, soaking his bread in his
+      chocolate, &ldquo;forty-eight hours? It is possible. In any case, I know they
+      will try something very soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My God, how is it that you believe that? You speak with assurance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, it is necessary to do everything I tell you, to the letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But to have the general go out, unless he is guarded&mdash;how can you
+      take such a responsibility? When I think about it, when I really think
+      about it, I ask myself how you have dared send away the police. But here,
+      at least, I know what to do in order to feel a little safe, I know that
+      downstairs with Gniagnia and Ermolai we have nothing to fear. No stranger
+      can approach even the basement. The provisions are brought from the lodge
+      by our dvornicks whom we have had sent from my mother&rsquo;s home in the Orel
+      country and who are as devoted to us as bull-dogs. Not a bottle of
+      preserves is taken into the kitchens without having been previously opened
+      outside. No package comes from any tradesman without being opened in the
+      lodge. Here, within, we are able to feel a little safe, even without the
+      police&mdash;but away from here&mdash;outside!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, they are going to try to kill your husband within forty-eight
+      hours. Do you desire me to save him perhaps for a long time&mdash;for
+      good, perhaps?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, listen to him! Listen to him, the dear little domovoi! But what will
+      Koupriane say? He will not permit any venturing beyond the villa; none, at
+      least for the moment. Ah, now, how he looks at me, the dear little
+      domovoi! Oh, well, yes. There, I will do as you wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, come into the garden with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She accompanied him, leaning on his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s the idea,&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;This afternoon you will go with the
+      general in his rolling-chair. Everybody will follow. Everyone, you
+      understand, Madame&mdash;understand me thoroughly, I mean to say that
+      everyone who wishes to come must be invited to. Only those who wish to
+      remain behind will do so. And do not insist. Ah, now, I see, you
+      understand me. Why do you tremble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who will guard the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one. Simply tell the servant at the lodge to watch from the lodge
+      those who enter the villa, but simply from the lodge, without interfering
+      with them, and saying nothing to them, nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do as you wish. Do you want me to announce our promenade
+      beforehand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, certainly. Don&rsquo;t be uneasy; let everybody have the good news.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I will tell only the general and his friends, you may be sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, dear Madame, just one more word. Do not wait for me at luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! You are going to leave us?&rdquo; she cried instantly, breathless. &ldquo;No,
+      no. I do not wish it. I am willing to do without the police, but I am not
+      willing to do without you. Everything might happen in your absence.
+      Everything! Everything!&rdquo; she repeated with singular energy. &ldquo;Because, for
+      me, I cannot feel sure as I should, perhaps. Ah, you make me say these
+      things. Such things! But do not go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not be afraid; I am not going to leave you, madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you are good! You are kind, kind! Caracho! (Very well.)&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not leave you. But I must not be at luncheon. If anyone asks where
+      I am, say that I have my business to look after, and have gone to
+      interview political personages in the city.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s only one political personage in Russia,&rdquo; replied Matrena Petrovna
+      bluntly; &ldquo;that is the Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; say I have gone to interview the Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But no one will believe that. And where will you be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know myself. But I will be about the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, very well, dear little domovoi.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what she
+      should think&mdash;her head was all in a muddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus
+      Tchnitchnikof arrived. The general was already in the veranda. Michael and
+      Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn how he had passed
+      the night without the police. When they were told that Feodor was going
+      for a promenade that afternoon they applauded his decision. &ldquo;Bravo! A
+      promenade a la strielka (to the head of the island) at the hour when all
+      St. Petersburg is driving there. That is fine. We will all be there.&rdquo; The
+      general made them stay for luncheon. Natacha appeared for the meal, in
+      rather melancholy mood. A little before luncheon she had held a double
+      conversation in the garden with Michael and Boris. No one ever could have
+      known what these three young people had said if some stenographic notes in
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s memorandum-book did not give us a notion; the reporter had
+      overheard, by accident surely, since all self-respecting reporters are
+      quite incapable of eavesdropping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The memorandum notes:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha went into the garden with a book, which she gave to Boris, who
+      pressed her hand lingeringly to his lips. &ldquo;Here is your book; I return it
+      to you. I don&rsquo;t want any more of them, the ideas surge so in my brain. It
+      makes my head ache. It is true, you are right, I don&rsquo;t love novelties. I
+      can satisfy myself with Pouchkine perfectly. The rest are all one to me.
+      Did you pass a good night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Boris (good-looking young man, about thirty years old, blonde, a little
+      effeminate, wistful. A curious appurtenance in the military household of
+      so vigorous a general). &ldquo;Natacha, there is not an hour that I can call
+      truly good if I spend it away from you, dear, dear Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ask you seriously if you have passed a good night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She touched his hand a moment and looked into his eyes, but he shook his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you do last night after you reached home?&rdquo; she demanded
+      insistently. &ldquo;Did you stay up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I obeyed you; I only sat a half-hour by the window looking over here at
+      the villa, and then I went to bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is necessary you should get your rest. I wish it for you as for
+      everyone else. This feverish life is impossible. Matrena Petrovna is
+      getting us all ill, and we shall be prostrated.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday,&rdquo; said Boris, &ldquo;I looked at the villa for a half-hour from my
+      window. Dear, dear villa, dear night when I can feel you breathing, living
+      near me. As if you had been against my heart. I could have wept because I
+      could hear Michael snoring in his chamber. He seemed happy. At last, I
+      heard nothing more, there was nothing more to hear but the double chorus
+      of frogs in the pools of the island. Our pools, Natacha, are like the
+      enchanted lakes of the Caucasus which are silent by day and sing at
+      evening; there are innumerable throngs of frogs which sing on the same
+      chord, some of them on a major and some on a minor. The chorus speaks from
+      pool to pool, lamenting and moaning across the fields and gardens, and
+      re-echoing like AEolian harps placed opposite one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do AEolian harps make so much noise, Boris?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You laugh? I don&rsquo;t find you yourself half the time. It is Michael who has
+      changed you, and I am out of it. (Here they spoke in Russian.) I shall not
+      be easy until I am your husband. I can&rsquo;t understand your manner with
+      Michael at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      (Here more Russian words which I do not understand.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak French; here is the gardener,&rdquo; said Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not like the way you are managing our lives. Why do you delay our
+      marriage? Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      (Russian words from Natacha. Gesture of desperation from Boris.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long? You say a long time? But that says nothing&mdash;a long time.
+      How long? A year? Two years? Ten years? Tell me, or I will kill myself at
+      your feet. No, no; speak or I will kill Michael. On my word! Like a dog!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear to you, by the dear head of your mother, Boris, that the date of
+      our marriage does not depend on Michael.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      (Some words in Russian. Boris, a little consoled, holds her hand
+      lingeringly to his lips.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Conversation between Michael and Natacha in the garden:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well? Have you told him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ended at last by making him understand that there is not any hope.
+      None. It is necessary to have patience. I have to have it myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is stupid and provoking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stupid, no. Provoking, yes, if you wish. But you also, you are
+      provoking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha! Natacha!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      (Here more Russian.) As Natacha started to leave, Michael placed his hand
+      on her shoulder, stopped her and said, looking her direct in the eyes:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There will be a letter from Annouchka this evening, by a messenger at
+      five o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo; He made each syllable explicit. &ldquo;Very important and
+      requiring an immediate reply.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These notes of Rouletabille&rsquo;s are not followed by any commentary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon the gentlemen played poker until half-past four, which is
+      the &ldquo;chic&rdquo; hour for the promenade to the head of the island. Rouletabille
+      had directed Matrena to start exactly at a quarter to five. He appeared in
+      the meantime, announcing that he had just interviewed the mayor of St.
+      Petersburg, which made Athanase laugh, who could not understand that
+      anyone would come clear from Paris to talk with men like that. Natacha
+      came from her chamber to join them for the promenade. Her father told her
+      she looked too worried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They left the villa. Rouletabille noted that the dvornicks were before the
+      gate and that the schwitzar was at his post, from which he could detect
+      everyone who might enter or leave the villa. Matrena pushed the
+      rolling-chair herself. The general was radiant. He had Natacha at his
+      right and at his left Athanase and Thaddeus. The two orderlies followed,
+      talking with Rouletabille, who had monopolized them. The conversation
+      turned on the devotion of Matrena Petrovna, which they placed above the
+      finest heroic traits in the women of antiquity, and also on Natacha&rsquo;s love
+      for her father. Rouletabille made them talk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Boris Mourazoff explained that this exceptional love was accounted for by
+      the fact that Natacha&rsquo;s own mother, the general&rsquo;s first wife, died in
+      giving birth to their daughter, and accordingly Feodor Feodorovitch had
+      been both father and mother to his daughter. He had raised her with the
+      most touching care, not permitting anyone else, when she was sick, to have
+      the care of passing the nights by her bedside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha was seven years old when Feodor Feodorovitch was appointed
+      governor of Orel. In the country near Orel, during the summer, the general
+      and his daughter lived on neighborly terms near the family of old Petroff,
+      one of the richest fur merchants in Russia. Old Petroff had a daughter,
+      Matrena, who was magnificent to see, like a beautiful field-flower. She
+      was always in excellent humor, never spoke ill of anyone in the
+      neighborhood, and not only had the fine manners of a city dame but a
+      great, simple heart, which she lavished on the little Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The child returned the affection of the beautiful Matrena, and it was on
+      seeing them always happy to find themselves together that Trebassof
+      dreamed of reestablishing his fireside. The nuptials were quickly
+      arranged, and the child, when she learned that her good Matrena was to wed
+      her papa, danced with joy. Then misfortune came only a few weeks before
+      the ceremony. Old Petroff, who speculated on the Exchange for a long time
+      without anyone knowing anything about it, was ruined from top to bottom.
+      Matrena came one evening to apprise Feodor Feodorovitch of this sad news
+      and return his pledge to him. For all response Feodor placed Natacha in
+      Matrena&rsquo;s arms. &ldquo;Embrace your mother,&rdquo; he said to the child, and to
+      Matrena, &ldquo;From to-day I consider you my wife, Matrena Petrovna. You should
+      obey me in all things. Take that reply to your father and tell him my
+      purse is at his disposition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general was already, at that time, even before he had inherited the
+      Cheremaieff, immensely rich. He had lands behind Nijni as vast as a
+      province, and it would have been difficult to count the number of moujiks
+      who worked for him on his property. Old Pretroff gave his daughter and did
+      not wish to accept anything in exchange. Feodor wished to settle a large
+      allowance on his wife; her father opposed that, and Matrena sided with him
+      in the matter against her husband, because of Natacha. &ldquo;It all belongs to
+      the little one,&rdquo; she insisted. &ldquo;I accept the position of her mother, but
+      on the condition that she shall never lose a kopeck of her inheritance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So that,&rdquo; concluded Boris, &ldquo;if the general died tomorrow she would be
+      poorer than Job.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then the general is Matrena&rsquo;s sole resource,&rdquo; reflected Rouletabille
+      aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can understand her hanging onto him,&rdquo; said Michael Korsakoff, blowing
+      the smoke of his yellow cigarette. &ldquo;Look at her. She watches him like a
+      treasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, Michael Nikolaievitch?&rdquo; said Boris, curtly. &ldquo;You
+      believe, do you, that the devotion of Matrena Petrovna is not
+      disinterested. You must know her very poorly to dare utter such a
+      thought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never had that thought, Boris Alexandrovitch,&rdquo; replied the other
+      in a tone curter still. &ldquo;To be able to imagine that anyone who lives in
+      the Trebassofs&rsquo; home could have such a thought needs an ass&rsquo;s head,
+      surely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will speak of it again, Michael Nikolaievitch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At your pleasure, Boris Alexandrovitch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had exchanged these latter words tranquilly continuing their walk and
+      negligently smoking their yellow tobacco. Rouletabille was between them.
+      He did not regard them; he paid no attention even to their quarrel; he had
+      eyes only for Natacha, who just now quit her place beside her father&rsquo;s
+      wheel-chair and passed by them with a little nod of the head, seeming in
+      haste to retrace the way back to the villa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you leaving us?&rdquo; Boris demanded of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I will rejoin you immediately. I have forgotten my umbrella.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I will go and get it for you,&rdquo; proposed Michael.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. I have to go to the villa; I will return right away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was already past them. Rouletabille, during this, looked at Matrena
+      Petrovna, who looked at him also, turning toward the young man a visage
+      pale as wax. But no one else noted the emotion of the good Matrena, who
+      resumed pushing the general&rsquo;s wheel-chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille asked the officers, &ldquo;Was this arrangement because the first
+      wife of the general, Natacha&rsquo;s mother, was rich?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. The general, who always had his heart in his hand,&rdquo; said Boris,
+      &ldquo;married her for her great beauty. She was a beautiful girl of the
+      Caucasus, of excellent family besides, that Feodor Feodorovitch had known
+      when he was in garrison at Tiflis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In short,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;the day that General Trebassof dies Madame
+      Trebassof, who now possesses everything, will have nothing, and the
+      daughter, who now has nothing, will have everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly that,&rdquo; said Michael.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That doesn&rsquo;t keep Matrena Petrovna and Natacha Feodorovna from deeply
+      loving each other,&rdquo; observed Boris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little party drew near the &ldquo;Point.&rdquo; So far the promenade had been
+      along pleasant open country, among the low meadows traversed by fresh
+      streams, across which tiny bridges had been built, among bright gardens
+      guarded by porcelain dwarfs, or in the shade of small weeds from the feet
+      of whose trees the newly-cut grass gave a seasonal fragrance. All was
+      reflected in the pools&mdash;which lay like glass whereon a scene-painter
+      had cut the green hearts of the pond-lily leaves. An adorable country
+      glimpse which seemed to have been created centuries back for the amusement
+      of a queen and preserved, immaculately trimmed and cleaned, from
+      generation to generation, for the eternal charm of such an hour as this on
+      the banks of the Gulf of Finland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now they had reached the bank of the Gulf, and the waves rippled to the
+      prows of the light ships, which dipped gracefully like huge and rapid
+      sea-gulls, under the pressure of their great white sails.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Along the roadway, broader now, glided, silently and at walking pace, the
+      double file of luxurious equipages with impatient horses, the open
+      carriages in which the great personages of the court saw the view and let
+      themselves be seen. Enormous coachmen held the reins high. Lively young
+      women, negligently reclining against the cushions, displayed their new
+      Paris toilettes, and kept young officers on horseback busy with salutes.
+      There were all kinds of uniforms. No talking was heard. Everyone was kept
+      busy looking. There rang in the pure, thin air only the noise of the
+      champing bits and the tintinnabulation of the bells attached to the hairy
+      Finnish ponies&rsquo; collars. And all that, so beautiful, fresh, charming and
+      clear, and silent, it all seemed more a dream than even that which hung in
+      the pools, suspended between the crystal of the air and the crystal of the
+      water. The transparence of the sky and the transparence of the gulf
+      blended their two unrealities so that one could not note where the
+      horizons met.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked at the view and looked at the general, and in all his
+      young vibrating soul there was a sense of infinite sadness, for he
+      recalled those terrible words in the night: &ldquo;They have gone into all the
+      corners of the Russian land, and they have not found a single corner of
+      that land where there are not moanings.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; thought he, &ldquo;they have
+      not come into this corner, apparently. I don&rsquo;t know anything lovelier or
+      happier in the world.&rdquo; No, no, Rouletabille, they have not come here. In
+      every country there is a corner of happy life, which the poor are ashamed
+      to approach, which they know nothing of, and of which merely the sight
+      would turn famished mothers enraged, with their thin bosoms, and, if it is
+      not more beautiful than that, certainly no part of the earth is made so
+      atrocious to live in for some, nor so happy for others as in this Scythian
+      country, the boreal country of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile the little group about the general&rsquo;s rolling-chair had attracted
+      attention. Some passers-by saluted, and the news spread quickly that
+      General Trebassof had come for a promenade to &ldquo;the Point.&rdquo; Heads turned as
+      carriages passed; the general, noticing how much excitement his presence
+      produced, begged Matrena Petrovna to push his chair into an adjacent
+      by-path, behind a shield of trees where he would be able to enjoy the
+      spectacle in peace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was found, nevertheless, by Koupriane, the Chief of Police, who was
+      looking for him. He had gone to the datcha and been told there that the
+      general, accompanied by his friends and the young Frenchman, had gone for
+      a turn along the gulf. Koupriane had left his carriage at the datcha, and
+      taken the shortest route after them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was a fine man, large, solid, clear-eyed. His uniform showed his fine
+      build to advantage. He was generally liked in St. Petersburg, where his
+      martial bearing and his well-known bravery had given him a sort of
+      popularity in society, which, on the other hand, had great disdain for
+      Gounsovski, the head of the Secret Police, who was known to be capable of
+      anything underhanded and had been accused of sometimes playing into the
+      hands of the Nihilists, whom he disguised as agents-provocateurs, without
+      anybody really doubting it, and he had to fight against these widespread
+      political suspicions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well-informed men declared that the death of the previous &ldquo;prime
+      minister,&rdquo; who had been blown up before Varsovie station when he was on
+      his way to the Tsar at Peterhof, was Gounsovski&rsquo;s work and that in this he
+      was the instrument of the party at court which had sworn the death of the
+      minister which inconvenienced it.* On the other hand, everyone regarded
+      Koupriane as incapable of participating in any such horrors and that he
+      contented himself with honest performance of his obvious duties, confining
+      himself to ridding the streets of its troublesome elements, and sending to
+      Siberia as many as he could of the hot-heads, without lowering himself to
+      the compromises which, more than once, had given grounds for the enemies
+      of the empire to maintain that it was difficult to say whether the chiefs
+      of the Russian police played the part of the law or that of the
+      revolutionary party, even that the police had been at the end of a certain
+      time of such mixed procedure hardly able to decide themselves which they
+      did.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * Rumored cause of Plehve&rsquo;s assassination.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      This afternoon Koupriane appeared very nervous. He paid his compliments to
+      the general, grumbled at his imprudence, praised him for his bravery, and
+      then at once picked out Rouletabille, whom he took aside to talk to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have sent my men back to me,&rdquo; said he to the young reporter. &ldquo;You
+      understand that I do not allow that. They are furious, and quite rightly.
+      You have given publicly as explanation of their departure&mdash;a
+      departure which has naturally astonished, stupefied the general&rsquo;s friends&mdash;the
+      suspicion of their possible participation in the last attack. That is
+      abominable, and I will not permit it. My men have not been trained in the
+      methods of Gounsovski, and it does them a cruel injury, which I resent,
+      for that matter, personally, to treat them this way. But let that go, as a
+      matter of sentiment, and return to the simple fact itself, which proves
+      your excessive imprudence, not to say more, and which involves you, you
+      alone, in a responsibility of which you certainly have not measured the
+      importance. All in all, I consider that you have strangely abused the
+      complete authority that I gave you upon the Emperor&rsquo;s orders. When I
+      learned what you had done I went to find the Tsar, as was my duty, and
+      told him the whole thing. He was more astonished than can be expressed. He
+      directed me to go myself to find out just how things were and to furnish
+      the general the guard you had removed. I arrive at the isles and not only
+      find the villa open like a mill where anyone may enter, but I am informed,
+      and then I see, that the general is promenading in the midst of the crowd,
+      at the mercy of the first miserable venturer. Monsieur Rouletabille, I am
+      not satisfied. The Tsar is not satisfied. And, within an hour, my men will
+      return to assume their guard at the datcha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille listened to the end. No one ever had spoken to him in that
+      tone. He was red, and as ready to burst as a child&rsquo;s balloon blown too
+      hard. He said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I will take the train this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and you can guard your general all alone. I have had enough of it.
+      Ah, you are not satisfied! Ah, the Tsar is not satisfied! It is too bad.
+      No more of it for me. Monsieur, I am not satisfied, and I say Good-evening
+      to you. Only do not forget to send me from here every three or four days a
+      letter which will keep me informed of the health of the general, whom I
+      love dearly. I will offer up a little prayer for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereupon he was silent, for he caught the glance of Matrena Petrovna, a
+      glance so desolated, so imploring, so desperate, that the poor woman
+      inspired him anew with great pity. Natacha had not returned. What was the
+      young girl doing at that moment? If Matrena really loved Natacha she must
+      be suffering atrociously. Koupriane spoke; Rouletabille did not hear him,
+      and he had already forgotten his own anger. His spirit was wrapped in the
+      mystery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; Koupriane finished by saying, tugging his sleeve, &ldquo;do you hear
+      me? I pray you at least reply to me. I offer all possible excuses for
+      speaking to you in that tone. I reiterate them. I ask your pardon. I pray
+      you to explain your conduct, which appeared imprudent to me but which,
+      after all, should have some reason. I have to explain to the Emperor. Will
+      you tell me? What ought I to say to the Emperor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing at all,&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;I have no explanation to give you or
+      the Emperor, or to anyone. You can offer him my utmost homage and do me
+      the kindness to vise my passport for this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he sighed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too bad, for we were just about to see something interesting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane looked at him. Rouletabille had not quitted Matrena Petrovna&rsquo;s
+      eyes, and her pallor struck Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just a minute,&rdquo; continued the young man. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure there is someone who
+      will miss me&mdash;that brave woman there. Ask her which she prefers, all
+      your police, or her dear little domovoi. We are good friends already. And&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+      forget to present my condolences to her when the terrible moment has
+      come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Koupriane&rsquo;s turn to be troubled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He coughed and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You believe, then, that the general runs a great immediate danger?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not only believe it, monsieur, I am sure of it. His death is a
+      matter of hours for the poor dear man. Before I go I shall not fail to
+      tell him, so that he can prepare himself comfortably for the great journey
+      and ask pardon of the Lord for the rather heavy hand he has laid on these
+      poor men of Presnia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Rouletabille, have you discovered something?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord, yes, I have discovered something, Monsieur Koupriane. You
+      don&rsquo;t suppose I have come so far to waste my time, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something no one else knows?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur Koupriane, otherwise I shouldn&rsquo;t have troubled to feel
+      concerned. Something I have not confided to anyone, not even to my
+      note-book, because a note-book, you know, a note-book can always be lost.
+      I just mention that in case you had any idea of having me searched before
+      my departure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Monsieur Rouletabille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, eh, like the way the police do in your country; in mine too, for that
+      matter. Yes, that&rsquo;s often enough seen. The police, furious because they
+      can&rsquo;t hit a clue in some case that interests them, arrest a reporter who
+      knows more than they do, in order to make him talk. But&mdash;nothing of
+      that sort with me, monsieur. You might have me taken to your famous
+      &lsquo;Terrible Section,&rsquo; I&rsquo;d not open my mouth, not even in the famous
+      rocking-chair, not even under the blows of clenched fists.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Rouletabille, what do you take us for? You are the guest of the
+      Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I have the word of an honest man. Very well, I will treat you as an
+      honest man. I will tell you what I have discovered. I don&rsquo;t wish through
+      any false pride to keep you in darkness about something which may perhaps&mdash;I
+      say perhaps&mdash;permit you to save the general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me. I am listening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is perfectly understood that once I have told you this you will
+      give me my passport and allow me to depart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You feel that you couldn&rsquo;t possibly,&rdquo; inquired Koupriane, more and more
+      troubled, and after a moment of hesitation, &ldquo;you couldn&rsquo;t possibly tell me
+      that and yet remain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, monsieur. From the moment you place me under the necessity of
+      explaining each of my movements and each of my acts, I prefer to go and
+      leave to you that &lsquo;responsibility&rsquo; of which you spoke just now, my dear
+      Monsieur Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Astonished and disquieted by this long conversation between Rouletabille
+      and the Head of Police, Matrena Petrovna continually turned upon them her
+      anguished glance, which always insensibly softened as it rested on
+      Rouletabille. Koupriane read there all the hope that the brave woman had
+      in the young reporter, and he read also in Rouletabille&rsquo;s eye all the
+      extraordinary confidence that the mere boy had in himself. As a last
+      consideration had he not already something in hand in circumstances where
+      all the police of the world had admitted themselves vanquished? Koupriane
+      pressed Rouletabille&rsquo;s hand and said just one word to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having saluted the general and Matrena affectionately, and a group of
+      friends in one courteous sweep, he departed, with thoughtful brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During all this time the general, enchanted with the promenade, told
+      stories of the Caucasus to his friends, believing himself young again and
+      re-living his nights as sub-lieutenant at Tills. As to Natacha, no one had
+      seen her. They retraced the way to the villa along deserted by-paths.
+      Koupriane&rsquo;s call made occasion for Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus, and
+      the two officers also, to say that he was the only honest man in all the
+      Russian police, and that Matrena Petrovna was a great woman to have dared
+      rid herself of the entire clique of agents, who are often more
+      revolutionary than the Nihilists themselves. Thus they arrived at the
+      datcha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general inquired for Natacha, not understanding why she had left him
+      thus during his first venture out. The schwitzar replied that the young
+      mistress had returned to the house and had left again about a quarter of
+      an hour later, taking the way that the party had gone on their promenade,
+      and he had not seen her since.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Boris spoke up:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must have passed on the other side of the carriages while we were
+      behind the trees, general, and not seeing us she has gone on her way,
+      making the round of the island, over as far as the Barque.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The explanation seemed the most plausible one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has anyone else been here?&rdquo; demanded Matrena, forcing her voice to be
+      calm. Rouletabille saw her hand tremble on the handle of the
+      rolling-chair, which she had not quitted for a second during all the
+      promenade, refusing aid from the officers, the friends, and even from
+      Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First there came the Head of Police, who told me he would go and find
+      you, Barinia, and right after, His Excellency the Marshal of the Court.
+      His Excellency will return, although he is very pressed for time, before
+      he takes the train at seven o&rsquo;clock for Krasnoie-Coelo.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All this had been said in Russian, naturally, but Matrena translated the
+      words of the schwitzar into French in a low voice for Rouletabille, who
+      was near her. The general during this time had taken Rouletabille&rsquo;s hand
+      and pressed it affectionately, as if, in that mute way, to thank him for
+      all the young man had done for them. Feodor himself also had confidence,
+      and he was grateful for the freer air that he was being allowed to
+      breathe. It seemed to him that he was emerging from prison. Nevertheless,
+      as the promenade had been a little fatiguing, Matrena ordered him to go
+      and rest immediately. Athanase and Thaddeus took their leave. The two
+      officers were already at the end of the garden, talking coldly, and almost
+      confronting one another, like wooden soldiers. Without doubt they were
+      arranging the conditions of an encounter to settle their little difference
+      at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The schwitzar gathered the general into his great arms and carried him
+      into the veranda. Feodor demanded five minutes&rsquo; respite before he was
+      taken upstairs to his chamber. Matrena Petrovna had a light luncheon
+      brought at his request. In truth, the good woman trembled with impatience
+      and hardly dared move without consulting Rouletabille&rsquo;s face. While the
+      general talked with Ermolai, who passed him his tea, Rouletabille made a
+      sign to Matrena that she understood at once. She joined the young man in
+      the drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; he said rapidly, in a low voice, &ldquo;you must go at once to see
+      what has happened there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pointed to the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was pitiful to watch her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, madame, with courage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you come with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, madame, I have something to do elsewhere. Give me the keys of
+      the next floor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. What for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a second&rsquo;s delay, for the love of Heaven. Do what I tell you on your
+      side, and let me do mine. The keys! Come, the keys!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He snatched them rather than took them, and pointed a last time to the
+      dining-room with a gesture so commanding that she did not hesitate
+      further. She entered the dining-room, shaking, while he bounded to the
+      upper floor. He was not long. He took only time to open the doors, throw a
+      glance into the general&rsquo;s chamber, a single glance, and to return, letting
+      a cry of joy escape him, borrowed from his new and very limited
+      accomplishment of Russian, &ldquo;Caracho!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      How Rouletabille, who had not spent half a second examining the general&rsquo;s
+      chamber, was able to be certain that all went well on that side, when it
+      took Matrena&mdash;and that how many times a day!&mdash;at least a quarter
+      of an hour of ferreting in all the corners each time she explored her
+      house before she was even inadequately reassured, was a question. If that
+      dear heroic woman had been with him during this &ldquo;instant information&rdquo; she
+      would have received such a shock that, with all confidence gone, she would
+      have sent for Koupriane immediately, and all his agents, reinforced by the
+      personnel of the Okrana (Secret Police). Rouletabille at once rejoined the
+      general, whistling. Feodor and Ermolai were deep in conversation about the
+      Orel country. The young man did not disturb them. Then, soon, Matrena
+      reappeared. He saw her come in quite radiant. He handed back her keys, and
+      she took them mechanically. She was overjoyed and did not try to hide it.
+      The general himself noticed it, and asked what had made her so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my happiness over our first promenade since we arrived at the
+      datcha des Iles,&rdquo; she explained. &ldquo;And now you must go upstairs to bed,
+      Feodor. You will pass a good night, I am sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can sleep only if you sleep, Matrena.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise you. It is quite possible now that we have our dear little
+      domovoi. You know, Feodor, that he smokes his pipe just like the dear
+      little porcelain domovoi.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He does resemble him, he certainly does,&rdquo; said Feodor. &ldquo;That makes us
+      feel happy, but I wish him to sleep also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; smiled Rouletabille, &ldquo;everybody will sleep here. That is the
+      countersign. We have watched enough. Since the police are gone we can all
+      sleep, believe me, general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, eh, I believe you, on my word, easily enough. There were only they in
+      the house capable of attempting that affair of the bouquet. I have thought
+      that all out, and now I am at ease. And anyway, whatever happens, it is
+      necessary to get sleep, isn&rsquo;t it? The chances of war! Nichevo!&rdquo; He pressed
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s hand, and Matrena Petrovna took, as was her habit, Feodor
+      Feodorovitch on her back and lugged him to his chamber. In that also she
+      refused aid from anyone. The general clung to his wife&rsquo;s neck during the
+      ascent and laughed like a child. Rouletabille remained in the hallway,
+      watching the garden attentively. Ermolai walked out of the villa and
+      crossed the garden, going to meet a personage in uniform whom the young
+      man recognized immediately as the grand-marshal of the court, who had
+      introduced him to the Tsar. Ermolai informed him that Madame Matrena was
+      engaged in helping her husband retire, and the marshal remained at the end
+      of the garden where he had found Michael and Boris talking in the kiosque.
+      All three remained there for some time in conversation, standing by a
+      table where General and Madame Trebassof sometimes dined when they had no
+      guests. As they talked the marshal played with a box of white cardboard
+      tied with a pink string. At this moment Matrena, who had not been able to
+      resist the desire to talk for a moment with Rouletabille and tell him how
+      happy she was, rejoined the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little domovoi,&rdquo; said she, laying her hand on his shoulder, &ldquo;you have not
+      watched on this side?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pointed in her turn to the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. You have seen it, madame, and I am sufficiently informed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfectly. There is nothing. No one has worked there! No one has touched
+      the board. I knew it. I am sure of it. It is dreadful what we have thought
+      about it! Oh, you do not know how relieved and happy I am. Ah, Natacha,
+      Natacha, I have not loved you in vain. (She pronounced these words in
+      accents of great beauty and tragic sincerity.) When I saw her leave us, my
+      dear, ah, my legs sank under me. When she said, &lsquo;I have forgotten
+      something; I must hurry back,&rsquo; I felt I had not the strength to go a
+      single step. But now I certainly am happy, that weight at least is off my
+      heart, off my heart, dear little domovoi, because of you, because of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She embraced him, and then ran away, like one possessed, to resume her
+      post near the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Notes in Rouletabille&rsquo;s memorandum-book: The affair of the little cavity
+      under the floor not having been touched again proves nothing for or
+      against Natacha (even though that excellent Matrena Petrovna thinks so).
+      Natacha could very well have been warned by the too great care with which
+      Madame Matrena watched the floor. My opinion, since I saw Matrena lift the
+      carpet the first time without any real precaution, is that they have
+      definitely abandoned the preparation of that attack and are trying to
+      account for the secret becoming known. What Matrena feels so sure of is
+      that the trap I laid by the promenade to the Point was against Natacha
+      particularly. I knew beforehand that Natacha would absent herself during
+      the promenade. I&rsquo;m not looking for anything new from Natacha, but what I
+      did need was to be sure that Matrena didn&rsquo;t detest Natacha, and that she
+      had not faked the preparations for an attack under the floor in such a way
+      as to throw almost certain suspicion on her step-daughter. I am sure about
+      that now. Matrena is innocent of such a thing, the poor dear soul. If
+      Matrena had been a monster the occasion was too good. Natacha&rsquo;s absence,
+      her solitary presence for a quarter of an hour in the empty villa, all
+      would have urged Matrena, whom I sent alone to search under the carpet in
+      the dining-room, to draw the last nails from the board if she was really
+      guilty of having drawn the others. Natacha would have been lost then!
+      Matrena returned sincerely, tragically happy at not having found anything
+      new, and now I have the material proof that I needed. Morally and
+      physically Matrena is removed from it. So I am going to speak to her about
+      the hat-pin. I believe that the matter is urgent on that side rather than
+      on the side of the nails in the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VI. THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      After the departure of Matrena, Rouletabille turned his attention to the
+      garden. Neither the marshal of the court nor the officers were there any
+      longer. The three men had disappeared. Rouletabille wished to know at once
+      where they had gone. He went rapidly to the gate, named the officers and
+      the marshal to Ermolai, and Ermolai made a sign that they had passed out.
+      Even as he spoke he saw the marshal&rsquo;s carriage disappear around a corner
+      of the road. As to the two officers, they were nowhere on the roadway. He
+      was surprised that the marshal should have gone without seeing Matrena or
+      the general or himself, and, above all, he was disquieted by the
+      disappearance of the orderlies. He gathered from the gestures of Ermolai
+      that they had passed before the lodge only a few minutes after the
+      marshal&rsquo;s departure. They had gone together. Rouletabille set himself to
+      follow them, traced their steps in the soft earth of the roadway and soon
+      they crossed onto the grass. At this point the tracks through the massed
+      ferns became very difficult to follow. He hurried along, bending close to
+      the ground over such traces as he could see, which continually led him
+      astray, but which conducted him finally to the thing that he sought. A
+      noise of voices made him raise his head and then throw himself behind a
+      tree. Not twenty steps from him Natacha and Boris were having an animated
+      conversation. The young officer held himself erect directly in front of
+      her, frowning and impatient. Under the uniform cloak that he had wrapped
+      about him without having bothered to use the sleeves, which were tossed up
+      over his chest, Boris had his arms crossed. His entire attitude indicated
+      hauteur, coldness and disdain for what he was hearing. Natacha never
+      appeared calmer or more mistress of herself. She talked to him rapidly and
+      mostly in a low voice. Sometimes a word in Russian sounded, and then she
+      resumed her care to speak low. Finally she ceased, and Boris, after a
+      short silence, in which he had seemed to reflect deeply, pronounced
+      distinctly these words in French, pronouncing them syllable by syllable,
+      as though to give them additional force:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ask a frightful thing of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is necessary to grant it to me,&rdquo; said the young girl with singular
+      energy. &ldquo;You understand, Boris Alexandrovitch! It is necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her gaze, after she had glanced penetratingly all around her and
+      discovered nothing suspicious, rested tenderly on the young officer, while
+      she murmured, &ldquo;My Boris!&rdquo; The young man could not resist either the
+      sweetness of that voice, nor the captivating charm of that glance. He took
+      the hand she extended toward him and kissed it passionately. His eyes,
+      fixed on Natacha, proclaimed that he granted everything that she wished
+      and admitted himself vanquished. Then she said, always with that adorable
+      gaze upon him, &ldquo;This evening!&rdquo; He replied, &ldquo;Yes, yes. This evening! This
+      evening!&rdquo; upon which Natacha withdrew her hand and made a sign to the
+      officer to leave, which he promptly obeyed. Natacha remained there still a
+      long time, plunged in thought. Rouletabille had already taken the road
+      back to the villa. Matrena Petrovna was watching for his return, seated on
+      the first step of the landing on the great staircase which ran up from the
+      veranda. When she saw him she ran to him. He had already reached the
+      dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anyone in the house?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one. Natacha has not returned, and...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your step-daughter is coming in now. Ask her where she has been, if she
+      has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return this evening,
+      in case she answers that she has seen them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, little domovoi doukh. The orderlies left without my seeing
+      when they went.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; interrupted Rouletabille, &ldquo;before she arrives, give me all her
+      hat-pins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, all her hat-pins. Quickly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena ran to Natacha&rsquo;s chamber and returned with three enormous hat-pins
+      with beautifully-cut stones in them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These are all?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are all I have found. I know she has two others. She has one on her
+      head, or two, perhaps; I can&rsquo;t find them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take these back where you found them,&rdquo; said the reporter, after glancing
+      at them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena returned immediately, not understanding what he was doing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, your hat-pins. Yes, your hat-pins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I have only two, and here they are,&rdquo; said she, drawing them from the
+      toque she had been wearing and had thrown on the sofa when she re-entered
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille gave hers the same inspection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks. Here is your step-daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha entered, flushed and smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, well,&rdquo; said she, quite breathless, &ldquo;you may boast that I had to
+      search for you. I made the entire round, clear past the Barque. Has the
+      promenade done papa good?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he is asleep,&rdquo; replied Matrena. &ldquo;Have you met Boris and Michael?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She appeared to hesitate a second, then replied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, for an instant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they say whether they would return this evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she replied, slightly troubled. &ldquo;Why all these questions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She flushed still more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I thought it strange,&rdquo; parried Matrena, &ldquo;that they went away as
+      they did, without saying goodby, without a word, without inquiring if the
+      general needed them. There is something stranger yet. Did you see Kaltsof
+      with them, the grand-marshal of the court?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kaltsof came for a moment, entered the garden and went away again without
+      seeing us, without saying even a word to the general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With apparent indifference, she raised her arms and drew out her hat-pins.
+      Rouletabille watched the pin without a word. The young girl hardly seemed
+      aware of their presence. Entirely absorbed in strange thoughts, she
+      replaced the pin in her hat and went to hang it in the veranda, which
+      served also as vestibule. Rouletabille never quitted her eyes. Matrena
+      watched the reporter with a stupid glance. Natacha crossed the
+      drawing-room and entered her chamber by passing through her little
+      sitting-room, through which all entrance to her chamber had to be made.
+      That little room, though, had three doors. One opened into Natacha&rsquo;s
+      chamber, one into the drawing-room, and the third into the little passage
+      in a corner of the house where was the stairway by which the servants
+      passed from the kitchens to the ground-floor and the upper floor. This
+      passage had also a door giving directly upon the drawing-room. It was
+      certainly a poor arrangement for serving the dining-room, which was on the
+      other side of the drawing-room and behind the veranda, such a chance
+      laying-out of a house as one often sees in the off-hand planning of many
+      places in the country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alone again with Rouletabille, Matrena noticed that he had not lost sight
+      of the corner of the veranda where Natacha had hung her hat. Beside this
+      hat there was a toque that Ermolai had brought in. The old servant had
+      found it in some corner of the garden or the conservatory where he had
+      been. A hat-pin stuck out of that toque also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whose toque is that?&rdquo; asked Rouletabille. &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t seen it on the head
+      of anyone here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Natacha&rsquo;s,&rdquo; replied Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She moved toward it, but the young man held her back, went into the
+      veranda himself, and, without touching it, standing on tiptoe, he examined
+      the pin. He sank back on his heels and turned toward Matrena. She caught a
+      glimpse of fleeting emotion on the face of her little friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Explain to me,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he gave her a glance that frightened her, and said low:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and give orders right away that dinner be served in the veranda. All
+      through dinner it is absolutely necessary that the door of Natacha&rsquo;s
+      sitting-room, and that of the stairway passage, and that of the veranda
+      giving on the drawing-room remain open all the time. Do you understand me?
+      As soon as you have given your orders go to the general&rsquo;s chamber and do
+      not quit the general&rsquo;s bedside, keep it in view. Come down to dinner when
+      it is announced, and do not bother yourself about anything further.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So saying, he filled his pipe, lighted it with a sort of sigh of relief,
+      and, after a final order to Matrena, &ldquo;Go,&rdquo; he went into the garden,
+      puffing great clouds. Anyone would have said he hadn&rsquo;t smoked in a week.
+      He appeared not to be thinking but just idly enjoying himself. In fact, he
+      played like a child with Milinki, Matrena&rsquo;s pet cat, which he pursued
+      behind the shrubs, up into the little kiosque which, raised on piles,
+      lifted its steep thatched roof above the panorama of the isles that
+      Rouletabille settled down to contemplate like an artist with ample
+      leisure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dinner, where Matrena, Natacha and Rouletabille were together again,
+      was lively. The young man having declared that he was more and more
+      convinced that the mystery of the bomb in the bouquet was simply a play of
+      the police, Natacha reinforced his opinion, and following that they found
+      themselves in agreement on about everything else. For himself, the
+      reporter during that conversation hid a real horror which had seized him
+      at the cynical and inappropriate tranquillity with which the young lady
+      received all suggestions that accused the police or that assumed the
+      general no longer ran any immediate danger. In short, he worked, or at
+      least believed he worked, to clear Natacha as he had cleared Matrena, so
+      that there would develop the absolute necessity of assuming a third
+      person&rsquo;s intervention in the facts disclosed so clearly by Koupriane where
+      Matrena or Natacha seemed alone to be possible agents. As he listened to
+      Natacha Rouletabille commenced to doubt and quake just as he had seen
+      Matrena do. The more he looked into the nature of Natacha the dizzier he
+      grew. What abysmal obscurities were there in her nature!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing interesting happened during dinner. Several times, in spite of
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s obvious impatience with her for doing it, Matrena went up
+      to the general. She returned saying, &ldquo;He is quiet. He doesn&rsquo;t sleep. He
+      doesn&rsquo;t wish anything. He has asked me to prepare his narcotic. It is too
+      bad. He has tried in vain, he cannot get along without it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, too, mamma, ought to take something to make you sleep. They say
+      morphine is very good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for me,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, whose head for some few minutes had been
+      dropping now toward one shoulder and now toward another, &ldquo;I have no need
+      of any narcotic to make me sleep. If you will permit me, I will get to bed
+      at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, my little domovoi doukh, I am going to carry you there in my arms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena extended her large round arms ready to take Rouletabille as though
+      he had been a baby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. I will get up there all right alone,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, rising
+      stupidly and appearing ashamed of his excessive sleepiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well, let us both accompany him to his chamber,&rdquo; said Natacha, &ldquo;and I
+      will wish papa good-night. I&rsquo;m eager for bed myself. We will all make a
+      good night of it. Ermolai and Gniagnia will watch with the schwitzar in
+      the lodge. Things are reasonably arranged now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They all ascended the stairs. Rouletabille did not even go to see the
+      general, but threw himself on his bed. Natacha got onto the bed beside her
+      father, embraced him a dozen times, and went downstairs again. Matrena
+      followed behind her, closed doors and windows, went upstairs again to
+      close the door of the landing-place and found Rouletabille seated on his
+      bed, his arms crossed, not appearing to have any desire for sleep at all.
+      His face was so strangely pensive also that the anxiety of Matrena, who
+      had been able to make nothing out of his acts and looks all day, came back
+      upon her instantly in greater force than ever. She touched his arm in
+      order to be sure that he knew she was there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My little friend,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;will you tell me now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, madame,&rdquo; he replied at once. &ldquo;Sit in that chair and listen to me.
+      There are things you must know at once, because we have reached a
+      dangerous hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The hat-pins first. The hat-pins!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille rose lightly from the bed and, facing her, but watching
+      something besides her, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is necessary you should know that someone almost immediately is going
+      to renew the attempt of the bouquet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena sprang to her feet as quickly as though she had been told there
+      was a bomb in the seat of her chair. She made herself sit down again,
+      however, in obedience to Rouletabille&rsquo;s urgent look commanding absolute
+      quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Renew the attempt of the bouquet!&rdquo; she murmured in a stifled voice. &ldquo;But
+      there is not a flower in the general&rsquo;s chamber.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be calm, madame. Understand me and answer me: You heard the tick-tack
+      from the bouquet while you were in your own chamber?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, with the doors open, naturally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You told me the persons who came to say good-night to the general. At
+      that time there was no noise of tick-tack?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think that if there had been any tick-tack then you would have
+      heard it, with all those persons talking in the room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear everything. I hear everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you go downstairs at the same time those people did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; I remained near the general for some time, until he was sound
+      asleep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you heard nothing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You closed the doors behind those persons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the door to the great staircase. The door of the servants&rsquo; stairway
+      was condemned a long time ago; it has been locked by me, I alone have the
+      key and on the inside of the door opening into the general&rsquo;s chamber there
+      is also a bolt which is always shot. All the other doors of the chambers
+      have been condemned by me. In order to enter any of the four rooms on this
+      floor it is necessary now to pass by the door of my chamber, which gives
+      on the main staircase.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfect. Then, no one has been able to enter the apartment. No one had
+      been in the apartment for at least two hours excepting you and the
+      general, when you heard the clockwork. From that the only conclusion is
+      that only the general and you could have started it going.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you trying to say?&rdquo; Matrena demanded, astounded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to prove to you by this absurd conclusion, madame, that it is
+      necessary never&mdash;never, you understand? Never&mdash;to reason solely
+      upon even the most evident external evidence when those
+      seemingly-conclusive appearances are in conflict with certain moral truths
+      that also are clear as the light of day. The light of day for me, madame,
+      is that the general does not desire to commit suicide and, above all, that
+      he would not choose the strange method of suicide by clockwork. The light
+      of day for me is that you adore your husband and that you are ready to
+      sacrifice your life for his.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now!&rdquo; exclaimed Matrena, whose tears, always ready in emotional moments,
+      flowed freely. &ldquo;But, Holy Mary, why do you speak to me without looking at
+      me? What is it? What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t turn! Don&rsquo;t make a movement! You hear&mdash;not a move! And speak
+      low, very low. And don&rsquo;t cry, for the love of God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you say at once... the bouquet! Come to the general&rsquo;s room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a move. And continue listening to me without interrupting,&rdquo; said he,
+      still inclining his ear, and still without looking at her. &ldquo;It is because
+      these things were as the light of day to me that I say to myself, &lsquo;It is
+      impossible that it should be impossible for a third person not to have
+      placed the bomb in the bouquet. Someone is able to enter the general&rsquo;s
+      chamber even when the general is watching and all the doors are locked.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. No one could possibly enter. I swear it to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As she swore it a little too loudly, Rouletabille seized her arm so that
+      she almost cried out, but she understood instantly that it was to keep her
+      quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you not to interrupt me, once for all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, then, tell me what you are looking at like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am watching the corner where someone is going to enter the general&rsquo;s
+      chamber when everything is locked, madame. Do not move!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena, her teeth chattering, recalled that when she entered
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s chamber she had found all the doors open that communicated
+      with the chain of rooms: the young man&rsquo;s chamber with hers, the
+      dressing-room and the general&rsquo;s chamber. She tried, under Rouletabille&rsquo;s
+      look, to keep calm, but in spite of all the reporter&rsquo;s exhortations she
+      could not hold her tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But which way? Where will they enter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which door?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That of the chamber giving on the servants&rsquo; stair-way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, how? The key! The bolt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have made a key.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the bolt is drawn this side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will draw it back from the other side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! That is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille laid his two hands on Matrena&rsquo;s strong shoulders and
+      repeated, detaching each syllable, &ldquo;They will draw it back from the other
+      side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible. I repeat it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, your Nihilists haven&rsquo;t invented anything. It is a trick much in
+      vogue with sneak thieves in hotels. All it needs is a little hole the size
+      of a pin bored in the panel of the door above the bolt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God!&rdquo; quavered Matrena. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand what you mean by your little
+      hole. Explain to me, little domovoi.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow me carefully, then,&rdquo; continued Rouletabille, his eyes all the time
+      fixed elsewhere. &ldquo;The person who wishes to enter sticks through the hole a
+      brass wire that he has already given the necessary curve to and which is
+      fitted on its end with a light point of steel curved inward. With such an
+      instrument it is child&rsquo;s play, if the hole has been made where it ought to
+      be, to touch the bolt on the inside from the outside, pick the knob on it,
+      withdraw it, and open the door if the bolt is like this one, a small
+      door-bolt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, oh,&rdquo; moaned Matrena, who paled visibly. &ldquo;And that hole?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It exists.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have discovered it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the first hour I was here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, domovoi! But how did you do that when you never entered the general&rsquo;s
+      chamber until to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doubtless, but I went up that servants&rsquo; staircase much earlier than that.
+      And I will tell you why. When I was brought into the villa the first time,
+      and you watched me, bidden behind the door, do you know what I was
+      watching myself, while I appeared to be solely occupied digging out the
+      caviare? The fresh print of boot-nails which left the carpet near the
+      table, where someone had spilled beer (the beer was still running down the
+      cloth). Someone had stepped in the beer. The boot-print was not clearly
+      visible excepting there. But from there it went to the door of the
+      servants&rsquo; stairway and mounted the stairs. That boot was too fine to be
+      mounting a stairway reserved to servants and that Koupriane told me had
+      been condemned, and it was that made me notice it in a moment; but just
+      then you entered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You never told me anything about it. Of course if I had known there was a
+      boot-print...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t tell you anything about it because I had my reasons for that,
+      and, anyway, the trace dried while I was telling you about my journey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, why not have told me later?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I didn&rsquo;t know you yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Subtle devil! You will kill me. I can no longer... Let us go into the
+      general&rsquo;s chamber. We will wake him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remain here. Remain here. I have not told you anything. That boot-print
+      preoccupied me, and later, when I could get away from the dining-room, I
+      was not easy until I had climbed that stairway myself and gone to see that
+      door, where I discovered what I have just told you and what I am going to
+      tell you now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? What? In all you have said there has been nothing about the
+      hat-pins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have come to them now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the bouquet attack, which is going to happen again? Why? Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is it. When this evening you let me go to the general&rsquo;s chamber, I
+      examined the bolt of the door without your suspecting it. My opinion was
+      confirmed. It was that way that the bomb was brought, and it is by that
+      way that someone has prepared to return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how? You are sure the little hole is the way someone came? But what
+      makes you think that is how they mean to return? You know well enough
+      that, not having succeeded in the general&rsquo;s chamber, they are at work in
+      the dining-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, it is probable, it is certain that they have given up the work in
+      the dining-room since they have commenced this very day working again in
+      the general&rsquo;s chamber. Yes, someone returned, returned that way, and I was
+      so sure of that, of the forthcoming return, that I removed the police in
+      order to be able to study everything more at my ease. Do you understand
+      now my confidence and why I have been able to assume so heavy a
+      responsibility? It is because I knew I had only one thing to watch: one
+      little hat-pin. It is not difficult, madame, to watch a single little
+      hat-pin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A mistake,&rdquo; said Matrena, in a low voice. &ldquo;Miserable little domovoi who
+      told me nothing, me whom you let go to sleep on my mattress, in front of
+      that door that might open any moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, madame. For I was behind it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, dear little holy angel! But what were you thinking of! That door has
+      not been watched this afternoon. In our absence it could have been opened.
+      If someone has placed a bomb during our absence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is why I sent you at once in to the dining-room on that search that
+      I thought would be fruitless, dear madame. And that is why I hurried
+      upstairs to the bedroom. I went to the stairway door instantly. I had
+      prepared for proof positive if anyone had pushed it open even half a
+      millimeter. No, no one had touched the door in our absence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, dear heroic little friend of Jesus! But listen to me. Listen to me,
+      my angel. Ah, I don&rsquo;t know where I am or what I say. My brain is no more
+      than a flabby balloon punctured with pins, with little holes of hat-pins.
+      Tell me about the hat-pins. Right off! No, at first, what is it that makes
+      you believe&mdash;good God!&mdash;that someone will return by that door?
+      How can you see that, all that, in a poor little hat-pin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, it is not a single hat-pin hole; there are two of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two hat-pin holes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, two. An old one and a new one. One quite new. Why this second hole?
+      Because the old one was judged a little too narrow and they wished to
+      enlarge it, and in enlarging it they broke off the point of a hat-pin in
+      it. Madame, the point is there yet, filling up the little old hole and the
+      piece of metal is very sharp and very bright.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I understand the examination of the hat-pins. Then it is so easy as
+      that to get through a door with a hat-pin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing easier, especially if the panel is of pine. Sometimes one happens
+      to break the point of a pin in the first hole. Then of necessity one makes
+      a second. In order to commence the second hole, the point of the pin being
+      broken, they have used the point of a pen-knife, then have finished the
+      hole with the hat-pin. The second hole is still nearer the bolt than the
+      first one. Don&rsquo;t move like that, madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they are going to come! They are going to come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can&rsquo;t understand how you can remain so quiet with such a certainty.
+      Great heavens! what proof have you that they have not been there already?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just an ordinary pin, madame, not a hat-pin this time. Don&rsquo;t confuse the
+      pins. I will show you in a little while.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will drive me distracted with his pins, dear light of my eyes! Bounty
+      of Heaven! God&rsquo;s envoy! Dear little happiness-bearer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In her transport she tried to take him in her trembling arms, but he waved
+      her back. She caught her breath and resumed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did the examination of all the hat-pins tell you anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. The fifth hat-pin of Mademoiselle Natacha&rsquo;s, the one in the toque
+      out in the veranda, has the tip newly broken off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O misery!&rdquo; cried Matrena, crumpling in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille raised her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you have? I have examined your own hat-pins. Do you think I
+      would have suspected you if I had found one of them broken? I would simply
+      have thought that someone had used your property for an abominable
+      purpose, that is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that is true, that is true. Pardon me. Mother of Christ, this boy
+      crazes me! He consoles me and he horrifies me. He makes me think of such
+      dreadful things, and then he reassures me. He does what he wishes with me.
+      What should I become without him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And this time she succeeded in taking his head in her two hands and
+      kissing him passionately. Rouletabille pushed her back roughly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You keep me from seeing,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was in tears over his rebuff. She understood now. Rouletabille during
+      all this conversation had not ceased to watch through the open doors of
+      Matrena&rsquo;s room and the dressing-room the farther fatal door whose brass
+      bolt shone in the yellow light of the night-lamp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last he made her a sign and the reporter, followed by Matrena, advanced
+      on tip-toe to the threshold of the general&rsquo;s chamber, keeping close to the
+      wall. Feodor Feodorovitch slept. They heard his heavy breath, but he
+      appeared to be enjoying peaceful sleep. The horrors of the night before
+      had fled. Matrena was perhaps right in attributing the nightmares to the
+      narcotic prepared for him each night, for the glass from which he drank it
+      when he felt he could not sleep was still full and obviously had not been
+      touched. The bed of the general was so placed that whoever occupied it,
+      even if they were wide awake, could not see the door giving on the
+      servants&rsquo; stairway. The little table where the glass and various phials
+      were placed and which had borne the dangerous bouquet, was placed near the
+      bed, a little back of it, and nearer the door. Nothing would have been
+      easier than for someone who could open the door to stretch an arm and
+      place the infernal machine among the wild flowers, above all, as could
+      easily be believed, if he had waited for that treachery until the heavy
+      breathing of the general told them outside that he was fast asleep, and
+      if, looking through the key-hole, he had made sure Matrena was occupied in
+      her own chamber. Rouletabille, at the threshold, glided to one side, out
+      of the line of view from the hole, and got down on all fours. He crawled
+      toward the door. With his head to the floor he made sure that the little
+      ordinary pin which he had placed on guard that evening, stuck in the floor
+      against the door, was still erect, having thus additional proof that the
+      door had not been moved. In any other case the pin would have lain flat on
+      the floor. He crept back, rose to his feet, passed into the dressing-room
+      and, in a corner, had a rapid conversation in a low voice with Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and take your mattress into the corner of the
+      dressing-room where you can still see the door but no one can see you by
+      looking through the key-hole. Do that quite naturally, and then go to your
+      rest. I will pass the night on the mattress, and I beg you to believe that
+      I will be more comfortable there than on a bed of staircase wood where I
+      spent the night last night, behind the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but you will fall asleep. I don&rsquo;t wish that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you thinking, madame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t wish it. I don&rsquo;t wish it. I don&rsquo;t wish to quit the door where the
+      eye is. And since I&rsquo;m not able to sleep, let me watch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not insist, and they crouched together on the mattress.
+      Rouletabille was squatted like a tailor at work; but Matrena remained on
+      all-fours, her jaw out, her eyes fixed, like a bulldog ready to spring.
+      The minutes passed by in profound silence, broken only by the irregular
+      breathing and puffing of the general. His face stood out pallid and tragic
+      on the pillow; his mouth was open and, at times, the lips moved. There was
+      fear at any moment of nightmare or his awakening. Unconsciously he threw
+      an arm over toward the table where the glass of narcotic stood. Then he
+      lay still again and snored lightly. The night-lamp on the mantelpiece
+      caught queer yellow reflections from the corners of the furniture, from
+      the gilded frame of a picture on the wall and from the phials and glasses
+      on the table. But in all the chamber Matrena Petrovna saw nothing, thought
+      of nothing but the brass bolt which shone there on the door. Tired of
+      being on her knees, she shifted, her chin in her hands, her gaze steadily
+      fixed. As time passed and nothing happened she heaved a sigh. She could
+      not have said whether she hoped for or dreaded the coming of that
+      something new which Rouletabille had indicated. Rouletabille felt her
+      shiver with anguish and impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for him, he had not hoped that anything would come to pass until toward
+      dawn, the moment, as everyone knows, when deep sleep is most apt to
+      vanquish all watchfulness and all insomnia. And as he waited for that
+      moment he had not budged any more than a Chinese ape or the dear little
+      porcelain domovoi doukh in the garden. Of course it might be that it was
+      not to happen this night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Matrena&rsquo;s hand fell on Rouletabille&rsquo;s. His imprisoned hers so
+      firmly that she understood she was forbidden to make the least movement.
+      And both, with necks extended, ears erect, watched like beasts, like
+      beasts on the scent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes, yes, there had been a slight noise in the lock. A key turned, softly,
+      softly, in the lock, and then&mdash;silence; and then another little
+      noise, a grinding sound, a slight grating of wire, above, then on the
+      bolt; upon the bolt which shone in the subdued glow of the night-lamp. The
+      bolt softly, very softly, slipped slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the door was pushed slowly, so slowly. It opened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the opening the shadow of an arm stretched, an arm which held in
+      its fingers something which shone. Rouletabille felt Matrena ready to
+      bound. He encircled her, he pressed her in his arms, he restrained her in
+      silence, and he had a horrible fear of hearing her suddenly shout, while
+      the arm stretched out, almost touched the pillow on the bed where the
+      general continued to sleep a sleep of peace such as he had not known for a
+      long time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VII. ARSENATE OF SODA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The mysterious hand held a phial and poured the entire contents into the
+      potion. Then the hand withdrew as it had come, slowly, prudently, slyly,
+      and the key turned in the lock and the bolt slipped back into place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Like a wolf, Rouletabille, warning Matrena for a last time not to budge,
+      gained the landing-place, bounded towards the stairs, slid down the
+      banister right to the veranda, crossed the drawing-room like a flash, and
+      reached the little sitting-room without having jostled a single piece of
+      furniture. He noticed nothing, saw nothing. All around was undisturbed and
+      silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first light of dawn filtered through the blinds. He was able to make
+      out that the only closed door was the one to Natacha&rsquo;s chamber. He stopped
+      before that door, his heart beating, and listened. But no sound came to
+      his ear. He had glided so lightly over the carpet that he was sure he had
+      not been heard. Perhaps that door would open. He waited. In vain. It
+      seemed to him there was nothing alive in that house except his heart. He
+      was stifled with the horror that he glimpsed, that he almost touched,
+      although that door remained closed. He felt along the wall in order to
+      reach the window, and pulled aside the curtain. Window and blinds of the
+      little room giving on the Neva were closed. The bar of iron inside was in
+      its place. Then he went to the passage, mounted and descended the narrow
+      servants&rsquo; stairway, looked all about, in all the rooms, feeling everywhere
+      with silent hands, assuring himself that no lock had been tampered with.
+      On his return to the veranda, as he raised his head, he saw at the top of
+      the main staircase a figure wan as death, a spectral apparition amid the
+      shadows of the passing night, who leaned toward him. It was Matrena
+      Petrovna. She came down, silent as a phantom and he no longer recognized
+      her voice when she demanded of him, &ldquo;Where? I require that you tell me.
+      Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have looked everywhere,&rdquo; he said, so low that Matrena had to come
+      nearer to understand his whisper. &ldquo;Everything is shut tight. And there is
+      no one about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena looked at Rouletabille with all the power of her eyes, as though
+      she would discover his inmost thoughts, but his clear glance did not
+      waver, and she saw there was nothing he wished to hide. Then Matrena
+      pointed her finger at Natacha&rsquo;s chamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not gone in there?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He replied, &ldquo;It is not necessary to enter there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will enter there, myself, nevertheless,&rdquo; said she, and she set her
+      teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He barred her way with his arms spread out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you hold the life of someone dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t go a step
+      farther.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the person is in that chamber. The person is there! It is there you
+      will find out!&rdquo; And she waved him aside with a gesture as though she were
+      sleepwalking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To recall her to the reality of what he had said to her and to make her
+      understand what he desired, he had to grip her wrist in the vice of his
+      nervous hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The person is not there, perhaps,&rdquo; he said, shaking his head. &ldquo;Understand me now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But she did not understand him. She said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since the person is nowhere else, the person must be there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Rouletabille continued obstinately:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. Perhaps he is gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone! And everything locked on the inside!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not a reason,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But she could not follow his thoughts any further. She wished absolutely
+      to make her way into Natacha&rsquo;s chamber. The obsession of that was upon
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you enter there,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and if (as is most probable) you don&rsquo;t
+      find what you seek there, all is lost! And as to me, I give up the whole
+      thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank in a heap onto a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t despair,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;We don&rsquo;t know for sure yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her poor old head dejectedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We know that only she is here, since no one has been able to enter and
+      since no one has been able to leave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That, in truth, filled her brain, prevented her from discerning in any
+      corner of her mind the thought of Rouletabille. Then the impossible
+      dialogue resumed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I repeat that we do not know but that the person has gone,&rdquo; repeated the
+      reporter, and demanded her keys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Foolish,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;What do you want them for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To search outside as we have searched inside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, everything is locked on the inside!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, once more, that is no reason that the person may not be outside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He consumed five minutes opening the door of the veranda, so many were his
+      precautions. She watched him impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He whispered to her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going out, but don&rsquo;t you lose sight of the little sitting-room. At
+      the least movement call me; fire a revolver if you need to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He slipped into the garden with the same precautions for silence. From the
+      corner that she kept to, through the doors left open, Matrena could follow
+      all the movements of the reporter and watch Natacha&rsquo;s chamber at the same
+      time. The attitude of Rouletabille continued to confuse her beyond all
+      expression. She watched what he did as if she thought him besotted. The
+      dyernick on guard out in the roadway also watched the young man through
+      the bars of the gate in consternation, as though he thought him a fool.
+      Along the paths of beaten earth or cement which offered no chance for
+      footprints Rouletabille hurried silently. Around him he noted that the
+      grass of the lawn had not been trodden. And then he paid no more attention
+      to his steps. He seemed to study attentively the rosy color in the east,
+      breathing the delicacy of dawning morning in the Isles, amid the silence
+      of the earth, which still slumbered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bare-headed, face thrown back, hands behind his back, eyes raised and
+      fixed, he made a few steps, then suddenly stopped as if he had been given
+      an electric shock. As soon as he seemed to have recovered from that shock
+      he turned around and went a few steps back to another path, into which he
+      advanced, straight ahead, his face high, with the same fixed look that he
+      had had up to the time he so suddenly stopped, as if something or someone
+      advised or warned him not to go further. He continually worked back toward
+      the house, and thus he traversed all the paths that led from the villa,
+      but in all these excursions he took pains not to place himself in the
+      field of vision from Natacha&rsquo;s window, a restricted field because of its
+      location just around an abutment of the building. To ascertain about this
+      window he crept on all-fours up to the garden-edge that ran along the foot
+      of the wall and had sufficient proof that no one had jumped out that way.
+      Then he went to rejoin Matrena in the veranda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one has come into the garden this morning,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and no one has
+      gone out of the villa into the garden. Now I am going to look outside the
+      grounds. Wait here; I&rsquo;ll be back in five minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He went away, knocked discreetly on the window of the lodge and waited
+      some seconds. Ermolai came out and opened the gate for him. Matrena moved
+      to the threshold of the little sitting-room and watched Natacha&rsquo;s door
+      with horror. She felt her legs give under her, she could not stand up
+      under the diabolic thought of such a crime. Ah, that arm, that arm!
+      reaching out, making its way, with a little shining phial in its hand.
+      Pains of Christ! What could there be in the damnable books over which
+      Natacha and her companions pored that could make such abominable crimes
+      possible? Ah, Natacha, Natacha! it was from her that she would have
+      desired the answer, straining her almost to stifling on her rough bosom
+      and strangling her with her own strong hand that she might not hear the
+      response. Ah, Natacha, Natacha, whom she had loved so much! She sank to
+      the floor, crept across the carpet to the door, and lay there, stretched
+      like a beast, and buried her head in her arms while she wept over her
+      daughter. Natacha, Natacha, whom she had cherished as her own child, and
+      who did not hear her. Ah, what use that the little fellow had gone to
+      search outside when the whole truth lay behind this door? Thinking of him,
+      she was embarrassed lest he should find her in that animalistic posture,
+      and she rose to her knees and worked her way over to the window that
+      looked out upon the Neva. The angle of the slanting blinds let her see
+      well enough what passed outside, and what she saw made her spring to her
+      feet. Below her the reporter was going through the same incomprehensible
+      maneuvers that she had seen him do in the garden. Three pathways led to
+      the little road that ran along the wall of the villa by the bank of the
+      Neva. The young man, still with his hands behind his back and with his
+      face up, took them one after the other. In the first he stopped at the
+      first step. He didn&rsquo;t take more than two steps in the second. In the
+      third, which cut obliquely toward the right and seemed to run to the bank
+      nearest Krestowsky Ostrow, she saw him advance slowly at first, then more
+      quickly among the small trees and hedges. Once only he stopped and looked
+      closely at the trunk of a tree against which he seemed to pick out
+      something invisible, and then he continued to the bank. There he sat down
+      on a stone and appeared to reflect, and then suddenly he cast off his
+      jacket and trousers, picked out a certain place on the bank across from
+      him, finished undressing and plunged into the stream. She saw at once that
+      he swam like a porpoise, keeping beneath and showing his head from time to
+      time, breathing, then diving below the surface again. He reached
+      Krestowsky Ostrow in a clump of reeds. Then he disappeared. Below him,
+      surrounded by trees, could be seen the red tiles of the villa which
+      sheltered Boris and Michael. From that villa a person could see the window
+      of the sitting-room in General Trebassof&rsquo;s residence, but not what might
+      occur along the bank of the river just below its walls. An isvotchick
+      drove along the distant route of Krestowsky, conveying in his carriage a
+      company of young officers and young women who had been feasting and who
+      sang as they rode; then deep silence ensued. Matrena&rsquo;s eyes searched for
+      Rouletabille, but could not find him. How long was he going to stay hidden
+      like that? She pressed her face against the chill window. What was she
+      waiting for? She waited perhaps for someone to make a move on this side,
+      for the door near her to open and the traitorous figure of The Other to
+      appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A hand touched her carefully. She turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was there, his face all scarred by red scratches, without
+      collar or neck-tie, having hastily resumed his clothes. He appeared
+      furious as he surprised her in his disarray. She let him lead her as
+      though she were a child. He drew her to his room and closed the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; he commenced, &ldquo;it is impossible to work with you. Why in the
+      world have you wept not two feet from your step-daughter&rsquo;s door? You and
+      your Koupriane, you commence to make me regret the Faubourg Poissoniere,
+      you know. Your step-daughter has certainly heard you. It is lucky that she
+      attaches no importance at all to your nocturnal phantasmagorias, and that
+      she has been used to them a long time. She has more sense than you,
+      Mademoiselle Natacha has. She sleeps, or at least she pretends to sleep,
+      which leaves everybody in peace. What reply will you give her if it
+      happens that she asks you the reason to-day for your marching and
+      counter-marching up and down the sitting-room and complains that you kept
+      her from sleeping?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena only shook her old, old head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, she has not heard me. I was there like a shadow, like a shadow of
+      myself. She will never hear me. No one hears a shadow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille felt returning pity for her and spoke more gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In any case, it is necessary, you must understand, that she should attach
+      no more importance to what you have done to-night than to the things she
+      knows of your doing other nights. It is not the first time, is it, that
+      you have wandered in the sitting-room? You understand me? And to-morrow,
+      madame, embrace her as you always have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not that,&rdquo; she moaned. &ldquo;Never that. I could not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena did not reply. She wept. He took her in his arms like a child
+      consoling its mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t cry. Don&rsquo;t cry. All is not lost. Someone did leave the villa this
+      morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, little domovoi! How is that? How is that? How did you find that out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since we didn&rsquo;t find anything inside, it was certainly necessary to find
+      something outside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you have found it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Virgin protect you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;SHE is with us. She will not desert us. I will even say that I believe
+      she has a special guardianship over the Isles. She watches over them from
+      evening to morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you saying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. You don&rsquo;t know what we call in France &lsquo;the watchers of the
+      Virgin&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, they are the webs that the dear little beasts of the good God
+      spin between the trees and that...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. You understand me and you will understand further when you know
+      that in the garden the first thing that struck me across the face as I
+      went into it was these watchers of the Virgin spun by the dear little
+      spiders of the good God. At first when I felt them on my face I said to
+      myself, &lsquo;Hold on, no one has passed this way,&rsquo; and so I went to search
+      other places. The webs stopped me everywhere in the garden. But, outside
+      the garden, they kept out of the way and let me pass undisturbed down a
+      pathway which led to the Neva. So then I said to myself, &lsquo;Now, has the
+      Virgin by accident overlooked her work in this pathway? Surely not.
+      Someone has ruined it.&rsquo; I found the shreds of them hanging to the bushes,
+      and so I reached the river.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you threw yourself into the river, my dear angel. You swim like a
+      little god.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I landed where the other landed. Yes, there were the reeds all
+      freshly broken. And I slipped in among the bushes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Up to the Villa Krestowsky, madame&mdash;where they both live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, it was from there someone came?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a silence between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She questioned:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boris?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Someone who came from the villa and who returned there. Boris or Michael,
+      or another. They went and returned through the reeds. But in coming they
+      used a boat; they returned by swimming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her customary agitation reasserted itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She demanded ardently:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are sure that he came here and that he left here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the sitting-room window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible, for we found it locked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible, if someone closed it behind him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She commenced to tremble again, and, falling back into her nightmarish
+      horror, she no longer wasted fond expletives on her domovoi as on a dear
+      little angel who had just rendered a service ten times more precious to
+      her than life. While he listened patiently, she said brutally:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you keep me from throwing myself on him, from rushing upon him as
+      he opened the door? Ah, I would have, I would have... we would know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. At the least noise he would have closed the door. A turn of the key
+      and he would have escaped forever. And he would have been warned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Careless boy! Why then, if you knew he was going to come, didn&rsquo;t you
+      leave me in the bedroom and you watch below yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because so long as I was below he would not have come. He only comes when
+      there is no one downstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Saints Peter and Paul pity a poor woman. Who do you think it is,
+      then? Who do you think it is? I can&rsquo;t think any more. Tell me, tell me
+      that. You ought to know&mdash;you know everything. Come&mdash;who? I
+      demand the truth. Who? Still some agent of the Committee, of the Central
+      Committee? Still the Nihilists?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it was only that!&rdquo; said Rouletabille quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have sworn to drive me mad! What do you mean by your &lsquo;if it was only
+      that&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille, imperturbable, did not reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you done with the potion?&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The potion? The glass of the crime! I have locked it in my room, in the
+      cupboard&mdash;safe, safe!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but, madame, it is necessary to replace it where you took it from.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, after having poured the poison into a phial, to wash the glass and
+      fill it with another potion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right. You think of everything. If the general wakes and wants
+      his potion, he must not be suspicious of anything, and he must be able to
+      have his drink.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not necessary that he should drink.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, why have the drink there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So that the person can be sure, madame, that if he has not drunk it is
+      simply because he has not wished to. A pure chance, madame, that he is not
+      poisoned. You understand me this time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes. O Christ! But how now, if the general wakes and wishes to drink
+      his narcotic?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell him I forbid it. And here is another thing you must do. When&mdash;Someone&mdash;comes
+      into the general&rsquo;s chamber, in the morning, you must quite openly and
+      naturally throw out the potion, useless and vapid, you see, and so Someone
+      will have no right to be astonished that the general continues to enjoy
+      excellent health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, little one; you are wiser than King Solomon. And what will I do
+      with the phial of poison?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She went for it and returned five minutes later.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is still asleep. I have put the glass on the table, out of his reach.
+      He will have to call me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Then push the door to, close it; we have to talk things over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if someone goes back up the servants&rsquo; staircase?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be easy about that. They think the general is poisoned already. It is the
+      first care-free moment I have been able to enjoy in this house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When will you stop making me shake with horror, little demon! You keep
+      your secret well, I must say. The general is sleeping better than if he
+      really were poisoned. But what shall we do about Natacha? I dare ask you
+      that&mdash;you and you alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How&mdash;nothing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will watch her...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes, yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, Matrena, you let me watch her by myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I promise you. I will not pay any attention to her. That is
+      promised. That is promised. Do as you please. Why, just now, when I spoke
+      of the Nihilists to you, did you say, &lsquo;If it were only that!&rsquo;? You
+      believe, then, that she is not a Nihilist? She reads such things&mdash;things
+      like on the barricades...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, madame, you think of nothing but Natacha. You have promised me
+      not to watch her; promise me not to think about her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, why did you say, &lsquo;If it was only that!&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, if there were only Nihilists in your affair, dear madame, it
+      would be too simple, or, rather, it would have been more simple. Can you
+      possibly believe, madame, that simply a Nihilist, a Nihilist who was only
+      a Nihilist, would take pains that his bomb exploded from a vase of
+      flowers?&mdash;that it would have mattered where, so long as it
+      overwhelmed the general? Do you imagine that the bomb would have had less
+      effect behind the door than in front of it? And the little cavity under
+      the floor, do you believe that a genuine revolutionary, such as you have
+      here in Russia, would amuse himself by penetrating to the villa only to
+      draw out two nails from a board, when one happens to give him time between
+      two visits to the dining-room? Do you suppose that a revolutionary who
+      wished to avenge the dead of Moscow and who could succeed in getting so
+      far as the door behind which General Trebassof slept would amuse himself
+      by making a little hole with a pin in order to draw back the bolt and
+      amuse himself by pouring poison into a glass? Why, in such a case, he
+      would have thrown his bomb outright, whether it blew him up along with the
+      villa, or he was arrested on the spot, or had to submit to the martyrdom
+      of the dungeons in the Fortress of SS. Peter and Paul, or be hung at
+      Schlusselburg. Isn&rsquo;t that what always happens? That is the way he would
+      have done, and not have acted like a hotel-rat! Now, there is someone in
+      your home (or who comes to your home) who acts like a hotel-rat because he
+      does not wish to be seen, because he does not wish to be discovered,
+      because he does not wish to be taken in the act. Now, the moment that he
+      fears nothing so much as to be taken in the act, so that he plays all
+      these tricks of legerdemain, it is certain that his object lies beyond the
+      act itself, beyond the bomb, beyond the poison. Why all this necessity for
+      bombs of deferred explosion, for clockwork placed where it will be
+      confused with other things, and not on a bare staircase forbidden to
+      everybody, though you visit it twenty times a day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this man comes in as he pleases by day and by night? You don&rsquo;t
+      answer. You know who he is, perhaps?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know him, perhaps, but I am not sure who it is yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not curious, little domovoi doukh! A friend of the house,
+      certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because
+      someone opens the window for him. And who comes from the Krestowsky Villa!
+      Boris or Michael! Ah, poor miserable Matrena! Why don&rsquo;t they kill poor
+      Matrena? Their general! Their general! And they are soldiers&mdash;soldiers
+      who come at night to kill their general. Aided by&mdash;by whom? Do you
+      believe that? You? Light of my eyes! you believe that! No, no, that is not
+      possible! I want you to understand, monsieur le domovoi, that I am not
+      able to believe anything so horrible. No, no, by Jesus Christ Who died on
+      the Cross, and Who searches our hearts, I do not believe that Boris&mdash;who,
+      however, has very advanced ideas, I admit&mdash;it is necessary not to
+      forget that; very advanced; and who composes very advanced verses also, as
+      I have always told him&mdash;I will not believe that Boris is capable of
+      such a fearful crime. As to Michael, he is an honest man, and my daughter,
+      my Natacha, is an honest girl. Everything looks very bad, truly, but I do
+      not suspect either Michael or Boris or my pure and beloved Natacha (even
+      though she has made a translation into French of very advanced verses,
+      certainly most improper for the daughter of a general). That is what lies
+      at the bottom of my mind, the bottom of my heart&mdash;you have understood
+      me perfectly, little angel of paradise? Ah, it is you the general owes his
+      life to, that Matrena owes her life. Without you this house would already
+      be a coffin. How shall I ever reward you? You wish for nothing! I annoy
+      you! You don&rsquo;t even listen to me! A coffin&mdash;we would all be in our
+      coffins! Tell me what you desire. All that I have belongs to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I desire to smoke a pipe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, a pipe! Do you want some yellow perfumed tobacco that I receive every
+      month from Constantinople, a treat right from the harem? I will get enough
+      for you, if you like it, to smoke ten thousand pipes full.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I prefer caporal,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille. &ldquo;But you are right. It is not
+      wise to suspect anybody. See, watch, wait. There is always time, once the
+      game is caught, to say whether it is a hare or a wild boar. Listen to me,
+      then, my good mamma. We must know first what is in the phial. Where is
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew it from her sleeve. He stowed it in his pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wish the general a good appetite, for me. I am going out. I will be
+      back in two hours at the latest. And, above all, don&rsquo;t let the general
+      know anything. I am going to see one of my friends who lives in the
+      Aptiekarski pereolek.&rdquo; *
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * The little street of the apothecaries.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Depend on me, and get back quickly for love of me. My blood clogs in my
+      heart when you are not here, dear servant of God.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She mounted to the general&rsquo;s room and came down at least ten times to see
+      if Rouletabille had not returned. Two hours later he was around the villa,
+      as he had promised. She could not keep herself from running to meet him,
+      for which she was scolded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be calm. Be calm. Do you know what was in the phial?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arsenate of soda, enough to kill ten people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Holy Mary!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be quiet. Go upstairs to the general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor Feodorovitch was in charming humor. It was his first good night
+      since the death of the youth of Moscow. He attributed it to his not having
+      touched the narcotic and resolved, once more, to give up the narcotic, a
+      resolve Rouletabille and Matrena encouraged. During the conversation there
+      was a knock at the door of Matrena&rsquo;s chamber. She ran to see who was
+      there, and returned with Natacha, who wished to embrace her father. Her
+      face showed traces of fatigue. Certainly she had not passed as good a
+      night as her father, and the general reproached her for looking so
+      downcast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true. I had dreadful dreams. But you, papa, did you sleep well? Did
+      you take your narcotic?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, I have not touched a drop of my potion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I see. Oh, well, that is all right; that is very good. Natural sleep
+      must be coming back...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena, as though hypnotized by Rouletabille, had taken the glass from
+      the table and ostentatiously carried it to the dressing-room to throw it
+      out, and she delayed there to recover her self-possession.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will see, papa, that you will be able to live just like everyone else
+      finally. The great thing was to clear away the police, the atrocious
+      police; wasn&rsquo;t it, Monsieur Rouletabille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always said, for myself, that I am entirely of Mademoiselle
+      Natacha&rsquo;s mind. You can be entirely reassured now, and I shall leave you
+      feeling reassured. Yes, I must think of getting my interviews done
+      quickly, and departing. Ah well, I can only say what I think. Run things
+      yourselves and you will not run any danger. Besides, the general gets much
+      better, and soon I shall see you all in France, I hope. I must thank you
+      now for your friendly hospitality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but you are not going? You are not going!&rdquo; Matrena had already set
+      herself to protest with all the strenuous torrent of words in her poor
+      desolated heart, when a glance from the reporter cut short her despairing
+      utterances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall have to remain a week still in the city. I have engaged a chamber
+      at the Hotel de France. It is necessary. I have so many people to see and
+      to receive. I will come to make you a little visit from time to time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are then quite easy,&rdquo; demanded the general gravely, &ldquo;at leaving me
+      all alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Entirely easy. And, besides, I don&rsquo;t leave you all alone. I leave you
+      with Madame Trebassof and Mademoiselle. I repeat: All three of you stay as
+      I see you now. No more police, or, in any case, the fewest possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is right, he is right,&rdquo; repeated Natacha again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment there were fresh knocks at the door of Matrena&rsquo;s chamber.
+      It was Ermolai, who announced that his Excellency the Marshal of the
+      Court, Count Keltzof, wished to see the general, acting for His Majesty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and receive the Count, Natacha, and tell him that your father will be
+      downstairs in a moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha and Rouletabille went down and found the Count in the
+      drawing-room. He was a magnificent specimen, handsome and big as one of
+      the Swiss papal guard. He seemed watchful in all directions and all among
+      the furniture, and was quite evidently disquieted. He advanced immediately
+      to meet the young lady, inquiring the news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all good news,&rdquo; replied Natacha. &ldquo;Everybody here is splendid. The
+      general is quite gay. But what news have you, monsieur le marechal? You
+      appear preoccupied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The marshal had pressed Rouletabille&rsquo;s hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And my grapes?&rdquo; he demanded of Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, your grapes? What grapes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you have not touched them, so much the better. I arrived here very
+      anxious. I brought you yesterday, from Krasnoie-Coelo, some of the
+      Emperor&rsquo;s grapes that Feodor Feodorovitch enjoyed so much. Now this
+      morning I learned that the eldest son of Doucet, the French head-gardener
+      of the Imperial conservatories at Krasnoie, had died from eating those
+      grapes, which he had taken from those gathered for me to bring here.
+      Imagine my dismay. I knew, however, that at the general&rsquo;s table, grapes
+      would not be eaten without having been washed, but I reproached myself for
+      not having taken the precaution of leaving word that Doucet recommend that
+      they be washed thoroughly. Still, I don&rsquo;t suppose it would matter. I
+      couldn&rsquo;t see how my gift could be dangerous, but when I learned of little
+      Doucet&rsquo;s death this morning, I jumped into the first train and came
+      straight here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, your Excellency,&rdquo; interrupted Natacha, &ldquo;we have not seen your
+      grapes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, they have not been served yet? All the better. Thank goodness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Emperor&rsquo;s grapes are diseased, then?&rdquo; interrogated Rouletabille.
+      &ldquo;Phylloxera pest has got into the conservatories?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing can stop it, Doucet told me. So he didn&rsquo;t want me to leave last
+      evening until he had washed the grapes. Unfortunately, I was pressed for
+      time and I took them as they were, without any idea that the mixture they
+      spray on the grapes to protect them was so deadly. It appears that in the
+      vineyard country they have such accidents every year. They call it, I
+      think, the... the mixture...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Bordeaux mixture,&rdquo; was heard in Rouletabille&rsquo;s trembling voice &ldquo;And
+      do you know what it is, Your Excellency, this Bordeaux mixture?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment the general came down the stairs, clinging to the banister
+      and supported by Matrena Petrovna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; continued Rouletabille, watching Natacha, &ldquo;the Bordeaux mixture
+      which covered the grapes you brought the general yesterday was nothing
+      more nor less than arsenate of soda.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, God!&rdquo; cried Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Matrena Petrovna, she uttered a low exclamation and let go the
+      general, who almost fell down the staircase. Everybody rushed. The general
+      laughed. Matrena, under the stringent look of Rouletabille, stammered that
+      she had suddenly felt faint. At last they were all together in the
+      veranda. The general settled back on his sofa and inquired:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, now, were you just saying something, my dear marshal, about some
+      grapes you have brought me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, indeed,&rdquo; said Natacha, quite frightened, &ldquo;and what he said isn&rsquo;t
+      pleasant at all. The son of Doucet, the court gardener, has just been
+      poisoned by the same grapes that monsieur le marschal, it appears, brought
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where was this? Grapes? What grapes? I haven&rsquo;t seen any grapes!&rdquo;
+       exclaimed Matrena. &ldquo;I noticed you, yesterday, marshal, out in the garden,
+      but you went away almost immediately, and I certainly was surprised that
+      you did not come in. What is this story?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we must clear this matter up. It is absolutely necessary that we
+      know what happened to those grapes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;they could cause a catastrophe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it has not happened already,&rdquo; fretted the marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how? Where are they? Whom did you give them to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I carried them in a white cardboard box, the first one that came to hand
+      in Doucet&rsquo;s place. I came here the first time and didn&rsquo;t find you. I
+      returned again with the box, and the general was just lying down. I was
+      pressed for my train and Michael Nikolaievitch and Boris Alexandrovitch
+      were in the garden, so I asked them to execute my commission, and I laid
+      the box down near them on the little garden table, telling them not to
+      forget to tell you it was necessary to wash the grapes as Doucet expressly
+      recommended.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is unbelievable! It is terrible!&rdquo; quavered Matrena. &ldquo;Where can the
+      grapes be? We must know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely,&rdquo; approved Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must ask Boris and Michael,&rdquo; said Natacha. &ldquo;Good God! surely they have
+      not eaten them! Perhaps they are sick.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here they are,&rdquo; said the general. All turned. Michael and Boris were
+      coming up the steps. Rouletabille, who was in a shadowed corner under the
+      main staircase, did not lose a single play of muscle on the two faces
+      which for him were two problems to solve. Both faces were smiling; too
+      smiling, perhaps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael! Boris! Come here,&rdquo; cried Feodor Feodorovitch. &ldquo;What have you
+      done with the grapes from monsieur le marechal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They both looked at him upon this brusque interrogation, seemed not to
+      understand, and then, suddenly recalling, they declared very naturally
+      that they had left them on the garden table and had not thought about
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forgot my caution, then?&rdquo; said Count Kaltzof severely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What caution?&rdquo; said Boris. &ldquo;Oh, yes, the washing of the grapes. Doucet&rsquo;s
+      caution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know what has happened to Doucet with those grapes? His eldest son
+      is dead, poisoned. Do you understand now why we are anxious to know what
+      has become of my grapes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they ought to be out there on the table,&rdquo; said Michael.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one can find them anywhere,&rdquo; declared Matrena, who, no less than
+      Rouletabille, watched every change in the countenances of the two
+      officers. &ldquo;How did it happen that you went away yesterday evening without
+      saying good-bye, without seeing us, without troubling yourselves whether
+      or not the general might need you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said Michael, coldly, in military fashion, as though he replied
+      to his superior officer himself, &ldquo;we have ample excuse to offer you and
+      the general. It is necessary that we make an admission, and the general
+      will pardon us, I am sure. Boris and I, during the promenade, happened to
+      quarrel. That quarrel was in full swing when we reached here and we were
+      discussing the way to end it most promptly when monsieur le marechal
+      entered the garden. We must make that our excuse for giving divided
+      attention to what he had to say. As soon as he was gone we had only one
+      thought, to get away from here to settle our difference with arms in our
+      hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without speaking to me about it!&rdquo; interrupted Trehassof. &ldquo;I never will
+      pardon that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You fight at such a time, when the general is threatened! It is as though
+      you fought between yourselves in the face of the enemy. It is treason!&rdquo;
+       added Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said Boris, &ldquo;we did not fight. Someone pointed out our fault,
+      and I offered my excuses to Michael Nikolaievitch, who generously accepted
+      them. Is that not so, Michael Nikolaievitch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who is this that pointed out your fault?&rdquo; demanded the marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bravo, Natacha. Come, embrace me, my daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general pressed his daughter effusively to his broad chest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I hope you will not have further disputing,&rdquo; he cried, looking over
+      Natacha&rsquo;s shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We promise you that, General,&rdquo; declared Boris. &ldquo;Our lives belong to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did well, my love. Let us all do as well. I have passed an excellent
+      night, messieurs. Real sleep! I have had just one long sleep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is so,&rdquo; said Matrena slowly. &ldquo;The general had no need of narcotic.
+      He slept like a child and did not touch his potion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And my leg is almost well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the same, it is singular that those grapes should have disappeared,&rdquo;
+       insisted the marshal, following his fixed idea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ermolai,&rdquo; called Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old servant appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday evening, after these gentlemen had left the house, did you
+      notice a small white box on the garden table?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Barinia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the servants? Have any of them been sick? The dvornicks? The
+      schwitzar? In the kitchens? No one sick? No? Go and see; then come and
+      tell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He returned, saying, &ldquo;No one sick.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Like the marshal, Matrena Petrovna and Feodor Feodorovitch looked at one
+      another, repeating in French, &ldquo;No one sick! That is strange!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille came forward and gave the only explanation that was plausible&mdash;for
+      the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, General, that is not strange at all. The grapes have been stolen and
+      eaten by some domestic, and if the servant has not been sick it is simply
+      that the grapes monsieur le marechal brought escaped the spraying of the
+      Bordeaux mixture. That is the whole mystery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little fellow must be right,&rdquo; cried the delighted marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is always right, this little fellow,&rdquo; beamed Matrena, as proudly as
+      though she had brought him into the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But &ldquo;the little fellow,&rdquo; taking advantage of the greetings as Athanase
+      Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch arrived, left the villa, gripping in his
+      pocket the phial which held what is required to make grapes flourish or to
+      kill a general who is in excellent health. When he had gone a few hundred
+      steps toward the bridges one must cross to go into the city, he was
+      overtaken by a panting dvornick, who brought him a letter that had just
+      come by courier. The writing on the envelope was entirely unknown to him.
+      He tore it open and read, in excellent French:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Request to M. Joseph Rouletabille not to mix in matters that do not
+      concern him. The second warning will be the last.&rdquo; It was signed: &ldquo;The
+      Central Revolutionary Committee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, ho!&rdquo; said Rouletabille, slipping the paper into his pocket, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s
+      the line it takes, is it! Happily I have nothing more to occupy myself
+      with at all. It is Koupriane&rsquo;s turn now! Now to go to Koupriane&rsquo;s!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On this date, Rouletabille&rsquo;s note-book: &ldquo;Natacha to her father: &lsquo;But you,
+      papa, have you had a good night? Did you take your narcotic?&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fearful, and (lest I confuse heaven and hell) I have no right to take any
+      further notes.&rdquo; *
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * As a matter of fact, after this day no more notes are
+     found in Rouletabille&rsquo;s memorandum-book. The last one is
+     that above, bizarre and romantic, and necessary, as
+     Sainclair, the Paris advocate and friend of Rouletabille,
+     indicates opposite it in the papers from which we have taken
+     all the details of this story.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VIII. THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille took a long walk which led him to the Troitsky Bridge, then,
+      re-descending the Naberjnaia, he reached the Winter Palace. He seemed to
+      have chased away all preoccupation, and took a child&rsquo;s pleasure in the
+      different aspects of the life that characterizes the city of the Great
+      Peter. He stopped before the Winter Palace, walked slowly across the
+      square where the prodigious monolith of the Alexander Column rises from
+      its bronze socket, strolled between the palace and the colonnades, passed
+      under an immense arch: everything seemed Cyclopean to him, and he never
+      had felt so tiny, so insignificant. None the less he was happy in his
+      insignificance, he was satisfied with himself in the presence of these
+      colossal things; everything pleased him this morning. The speed of the
+      isvos, the bickering humor of the osvotchicks, the elegance of the women,
+      the fine presences of the officers and their easy naturalness under their
+      uniforms, so opposed to the wooden posturing of the Berlin military men
+      whom he had noticed at the &ldquo;Tilleuls&rdquo; and in the Friederichstrasse between
+      two trains. Everything enchanted him&mdash;the costume even of the
+      moujiks, vivid blouses, the red shirts over the trousers, the full legs
+      and the boots up to the knees, even the unfortunates who, in spite of the
+      soft atmosphere, were muffled up in sheepskin coats, all impressed him
+      favorably, everything appeared to him original and congenial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Order reigned in the city. The guards were polite, decorative and superb
+      in bearing. The passers-by in that quarter talked gayly among themselves,
+      often in French, and had manners as civilized as anywhere in the world.
+      Where, then, was the Bear of the North? He never had seen bears so well
+      licked. Was it this very city that only yesterday was in revolution? This
+      was certainly the Alexander Park where troops a few weeks before had fired
+      on children who had sought refuge in the trees, like sparrows. Was this
+      the very pavement where the Cossacks had left so many bodies? Finally he
+      saw before him the Nevsky Prospect, where the bullets rained like hail not
+      long since upon a people dressed for festivities and very joyous. Nichevo!
+      Nichevo! All that was so soon forgotten. They forgot yesterday as they
+      forget to-morrow. The Nihilists? Poets, who imagined that a bomb could
+      accomplish anything in that Babylon of the North more important than the
+      noise of its explosion! Look at these people who pass. They have no more
+      thought for the old attack than for those now preparing in the shadow of
+      the &ldquo;tracktirs.&rdquo; Happy men, full of serenity in this bright quarter, who
+      move about their affairs and their pleasures in the purest air, the
+      lightest, the most transparent on earth. No, no; no one knows the joy of
+      mere breathing if he has not breathed the air there, the finest in the
+      north of the world, which gives food and drink of beautiful white
+      eau-de-vie and yellow pivo, and strikes the blood and makes one a beast
+      vigorous and joyful and fatalistic, and mocks at the Nihilists and, as
+      well, at the ten thousand eyes of the police staring from under the
+      porches of houses, from under the skulls of dvornicks&mdash;all police,
+      the dvornicks; all police, also the joyous concierges with extended hands.
+      Ah, ah, one mocks at it all in such air, provided one has roubles in one&rsquo;s
+      pockets, plenty of roubles, and that one is not besotted by reading those
+      extraordinary books that preach the happiness of all humanity to students
+      and to poor girl-students too. Ah, ah, seed of the Nihilists, all that!
+      These poor little fellows and poor little girls who have their heads
+      turned by lectures that they cannot digest! That is all the trouble, the
+      digestion. The digestion is needed. Messieurs the commercial travelers for
+      champagne, who talk together importantly in the lobbies of the Grand
+      Morskaia Hotel and who have studied the Russian people even in the most
+      distant cities where champagne is sold, will tell you that over any table
+      of hors-d&rsquo;oeuvres, and will regulate the whole question of the Revolution
+      between two little glasses of vodka, swallowed properly, quickly, elbow
+      up, at a single draught, in the Russian manner. Simply an affair of
+      digestion, they tell you. Who is the fool that would dare compare a young
+      gentleman who has well digested a bottle of champagne or two, and another
+      young man who has poorly digested the lucubrations of, who shall we say?&mdash;the
+      lucubrations of the economists? The economists? The economists! Fools who
+      compete which can make the most violent statements! Those who read them
+      and don&rsquo;t understand them go off like a bomb! Your health! Nichevo! The
+      world goes round still, doesn&rsquo;t it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Discussion political, economic, revolutionary, and other in the room where
+      they munch hors-d&rsquo;oeuvres! You will hear it all as you pass through the
+      hotel to your chamber, young Rouletabille. Get quickly now to the home of
+      Koupriane, if you don&rsquo;t wish to arrive there at luncheon-time; then you
+      would have to put off these serious affairs until evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Department of Police. Massive entrance, heavily guarded, a great
+      lobby, halls with swinging doors, many obsequious schwitzars on the
+      lookout for tips, many poor creatures sitting against the walls on dirty
+      benches, desks and clerks, brilliant boots and epaulets of gay young
+      officers who are telling tales of the Aquarium with great relish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Rouletabille! Ah, yes. Please be seated. Delighted, M. Koupriane
+      will be very happy to receive you, but just at this moment he is at
+      inspection. Yes, the inspection of the police dormitories in the barracks.
+      We will take you there. His own idea! He doesn&rsquo;t neglect anything, does
+      he? A great Chief. Have you seen the police-guards&rsquo; dormitory? Admirable!
+      The first dormitories of the world. We say that without wishing to offend
+      France. We love France. A great nation! I will take you immediately to M.
+      Koupriane. I shall be delighted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I also,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, who put a rouble into the honorable
+      functionary&rsquo;s hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit me to precede you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Bows and salutes. For two roubles he would have walked obsequiously before
+      him to the end of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These functionaries are admirable,&rdquo; thought Rouletabille as he was led to
+      the barracks. He felt he had not paid too much for the services of a
+      personage whose uniform was completely covered with lace. They tramped,
+      they climbed, they descended. Stairways, corridors. Ah, the barracks at
+      last. He seemed to have entered a convent. Beds very white, very narrow,
+      and images of the Virgin and saints everywhere, monastic neatness and the
+      most absolute silence. Suddenly an order sounded in the corridor outside,
+      and the police-guard, who sprang from no one could tell where, stood to
+      attention at the head of their beds. Koupriane and his aide appeared.
+      Koupriane looked at everything closely, spoke to each man in turn, called
+      them by their names, inquired about their needs, and the men stammered
+      replies, not knowing what to answer, reddening like children. Koupriane
+      observed Rouletabille. He dismissed his aide with a gesture. The
+      inspection was over. He drew the young man into a little room just off the
+      dormitory. Rouletabille, frightened, looked about him. He found himself in
+      a chapel. This little chapel completed the effect of the guards&rsquo; 
+      dormitory. It was all gilded, decorated in marvelous colors, thronged with
+      little ikons that bring happiness, and, naturally, with the portrait of
+      the Tsar, the dear Little Father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; said Koupriane, smiling at Rouletabille&rsquo;s amazement, &ldquo;we deny
+      them nothing. We give them their saints right here in their quarters.&rdquo;
+       Closing the door, he drew a chair toward Rouletabille and motioned him to
+      sit down. They sat before the little altar loaded with flowers, with
+      colored paper and winged saints.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can talk here without being disturbed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yonder there is such
+      a crowd of people waiting for me. I&rsquo;m ready to listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;I have come to give you the report of my
+      mission here, and to terminate my connection with it. All that is left for
+      clearing this obscure affair is to arrest the guilty person, with which I
+      have nothing to do. That concerns you. I simply inform you that someone
+      tried to poison the general last night by pouring arsenate of soda into
+      his sleeping-potion, which I bring you in this phial, arsenate which was
+      secured most probably by washing it from grapes brought to General
+      Trebassof by the marshal of the court, and which disappeared without
+      anyone being able to say how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, ah, a family affair, a plot within the family. I told you so,&rdquo;
+       murmured Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The affair at least has happened within the family, as you think,
+      although the assassin came from outside. Contrary to what you may be able
+      to believe, he does not live in the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then how does he get there?&rdquo; demanded Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the window of the room overlooking the Neva. He has often come that
+      way. And that is the way he returns also, I am sure. It is there you can
+      take him if you act with prudence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know he often comes that way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know the height of the window above the little roadway. To reach it
+      he uses a water-trough, whose iron rings are bent, and also the marks of a
+      grappling-iron that he carries with him and uses to hoist himself to the
+      window are distinctly visible on the ironwork of the little balcony
+      outside. The marks are quite obviously of different dates.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that window is closed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Someone opens it for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who, if you please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no desire to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, yes. It necessarily is Natacha. I was sure that the Villa des Iles
+      had its viper. I tell you she doesn&rsquo;t dare leave her nest because she
+      knows she is watched. Not one of her movements outside escapes us! She
+      knows it. She has been warned. The last time she ventured outside alone
+      was to go into the old quarters of Derewnia. What has she to do in such a
+      rotten quarter? I ask you that. And she turned in her tracks without
+      seeing anyone, without knocking at a single door, because she saw that she
+      was followed. She isn&rsquo;t able to get to see them outside, therefore she has
+      to see them inside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are only one, and always the same one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An examination of the marks on the wall and on the pipe doesn&rsquo;t leave any
+      doubt of it, and it is always the same grappling-iron that is used for the
+      window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The viper!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Koupriane, Mademoiselle Natacha seems to preoccupy you
+      exceedingly. I did not come here to talk about Mademoiselle Natacha. I
+      came to point out to you the route used by the man who comes to do the
+      murder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, yes, it is she who opens the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t deny that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little demon! Why does she take him into her room at night? Do you
+      think perhaps there is some love-affair...?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of quite the opposite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I too. Natacha is not a wanton. Natacha has no heart. She has only a
+      brain. And it doesn&rsquo;t take long for a brain touched by Nihilism to get so
+      it won&rsquo;t hesitate at anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane reflected a minute, while Rouletabille watched him in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have we solely to do with Nihilism?&rdquo; resumed Koupriane. &ldquo;Everything you
+      tell me inclines me more and more to my idea: a family affair, purely in
+      the family. You know, don&rsquo;t you, that upon the general&rsquo;s death Natacha
+      will be immensely rich?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know it,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, in a voice that sounded singular
+      to the ear of the Chief of Police and which made him raise his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? Nothing,&rdquo; replied the reporter, this time in a firmer tone. &ldquo;I ought,
+      however, to say this to you: I am sure that we are dealing with
+      Nihilism...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you believe it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Rouletabille handed Koupriane the message he had received that same
+      morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh,&rdquo; cried Koupriane. &ldquo;You are under watch! Look out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have nothing to fear; I&rsquo;m not bothering myself about anything further.
+      Yes, we have an affair of the revolutionaries, but not of the usual kind.
+      The way they are going about it isn&rsquo;t like one of their young men that the
+      Central Committee arms with a bomb and who is sacrificed in advance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are the tracks that you have traced?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right up to the little Krestowsky Villa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane bounded from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Occupied by Boris. Parbleu! Now we have them. I see it all now. Boris,
+      another cracked brain! And he is engaged. If he plays the part of the
+      Revolutionaries, the affair would work out big for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That villa,&rdquo; said Rouletabille quietly, &ldquo;is also occupied by Michael
+      Korosakoff.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is the most loyal, the most reliable soldier of the Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one is ever sure of anything, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am sure of a man like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No man is ever sure of any man, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am, in every case, for those I employ.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something that can serve you in the enterprise you are going to
+      undertake, because I trust you can catch the murderer right in his nest.
+      To do that, I&rsquo;ll not conceal from you that I think your agents will have
+      to be enormously clever. They will have to watch the datcha des Iles at
+      night, without anyone possibly suspecting it. No more maroon coats with
+      false astrakhan trimmings, eh? But Apaches, Apaches on the wartrail, who
+      blend themselves with the ground, with the trees, with the stones in the
+      roadway. But among those Apaches don&rsquo;t send that agent of your Secret
+      Service who watched the window while the assassin climbed to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, these climbs that you can read the proofs of on the wall and on the
+      iron forgings of the balcony went on while your agents, night and day,
+      were watching the villa. Have you noticed, monsieur, that it was always
+      the same agent who took the post at night, behind the villa, under the
+      window? General Trebassof&rsquo;s book in which he kept a statement of the exact
+      disposal of each of your men during the period of siege was most
+      instructive on that point. The other posts changed in turn, but the same
+      agent, when he was among the guard, demanded always that same post, which
+      was not disputed by anybody, since it is no fun to pass the hours of the
+      night behind a wall, in an empty field. The others much preferred to roll
+      away the time watching in the villa or in front of the lodge, where vodka
+      and Crimean wine, kwass and pivo, kirsch and tchi, never ran short. That
+      agent&rsquo;s name is Touman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Touman! Impossible! He is one of the best agents from Kiew. He was
+      recommended by Gounsovski.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, yes,&rdquo; grumbled the Chief of Police. &ldquo;Someone always laughs when
+      his name is mentioned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane had turned red. He rose, opened the door, gave a long direction
+      in Russian, and returned to his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;go ahead and tell me all the details of the poison and
+      the grapes the marshal of the court brought. I&rsquo;m listening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille told him very briefly and without drawing any deductions all
+      that we already know. He ended his account as a man dressed in a maroon
+      coat with false astrakhan was introduced. It was the same man Rouletabille
+      had met in General Trebassof&rsquo;s drawing-room and who spoke French. Two
+      gendarmes were behind him. The door had been closed. Koupriane turned
+      toward the man in the coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Touman,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I want to talk to you. You are a traitor, and I have
+      proof. You can confess to me, and I will give you a thousand roubles and
+      you can take yourself off to be hanged somewhere else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s eyes shrank, but he recovered himself quickly. He replied in
+      Russian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak French. I order it,&rdquo; commanded Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I answer, Your Excellency,&rdquo; said Touman firmly, &ldquo;that I don&rsquo;t know what
+      Your Excellency means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean that you have helped a man get into the Trebassof villa by night
+      when you were on guard under the window of the little sitting-room. You
+      see that there is no use deceiving us any longer. I play with you frankly,
+      good play, good money. The name of that man, and you have a thousand
+      roubles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready to swear on the ikon of...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t perjure yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always loyally served...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The name of that man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I still don&rsquo;t know yet what Your Excellency means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you understand me,&rdquo; replied Koupriane, who visibly held in an anger
+      that threatened to break forth any moment. &ldquo;A man got into the house while
+      you were watching...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never saw anything. After all, it is possible. There were some very
+      dark nights. I went back and forth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not a fool. The name of that man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I assure you, Excellency...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strip him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do?&rdquo; cried Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But already the two guards had thrown themselves on Touman and had drawn
+      off his coat and shirt. The man was bare to the waist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do? What are you going to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave them alone,&rdquo; said Koupriane, roughly pushing Rouletabille back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seizing a whip which hung at the waist of the guards he struck Touman a
+      blow across the shoulders that drew blood. Touman, mad with the outrage
+      and the pain, shouted, &ldquo;Yes, it is true! I brag of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane did not restrain his rage. He showered the unhappy man with
+      blows, having thrown Rouletabille to the end of the room when he tried to
+      interfere. And while he proceeded with the punishment the Chief of Police
+      hurled at the agent who had betrayed him an accompaniment of fearful
+      threats, promising him that before he was hanged he should rot in the
+      bottom-most dungeon of Peter and Paul, in the slimy pits lying under the
+      Neva. Touman, between the two guards who held him, and who sometimes
+      received blows on the rebound that were not intended for them, never
+      uttered a complaint. Outside the invectives of Koupriane there was heard
+      only the swish of the cords and the cries of Rouletabille, who continued
+      to protest that it was abominable, and called the Chief of Police a
+      savage. Finally the savage stopped. Gouts of blood had spattered all
+      about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, who supported himself against the wall. &ldquo;I
+      shall complain to the Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; Koupriane replied, &ldquo;but I feel relieved now. You can&rsquo;t
+      imagine the harm this man can have done to us in the weeks he has been
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Touman, across whose shoulders they had thrown his coat and who lay now
+      across a chair, found strength to look up and say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true. You can&rsquo;t do me as much harm as I have done you, whether you
+      think so or not. All the harm that can be done me by you and yours is
+      already accomplished. My name is not Touman, but Matiev. Listen. I had a
+      son that was the light of my eyes. Neither my son nor I had ever been
+      concerned with politics. I was employed in Moscow. My son was a student.
+      During the Red Week we went out, my son and I, to see a little of what was
+      happening over in the Presnia quarter. They said everybody had been killed
+      over there! We passed before the Presnia gate. Soldiers called to us to
+      stop because they wished to search us. We opened our coats. The soldiers
+      saw my son&rsquo;s student waistcoat and set up a cry. They unbuttoned the vest,
+      drew a note-book out of his pocket and they found a workman&rsquo;s song in it
+      that had been published in the Signal. The soldiers didn&rsquo;t know how to
+      read. They believed the paper was a proclamation, and they arrested my
+      son. I demanded to be arrested with him. They pushed me away. I ran to the
+      governor&rsquo;s house. Trebassof had me thrust away from his door with blows
+      from the butt-ends of his Cossacks&rsquo; guns. And, as I persisted, they kept
+      me locked up all that night and the morning of the next day. At noon I was
+      set free. I demanded my son and they replied they didn&rsquo;t know what I was
+      talking about. But a soldier that I recognized as having arrested my son
+      the evening before pointed out a van that was passing, covered with a
+      tarpaulin and surrounded by Cossacks. &lsquo;Your son is there,&rsquo; he said; &lsquo;they
+      are taking him to the graves.&rsquo; Mad with despair, I ran after the van. It
+      went to the outskirts of Golountrine cemetery. There I saw in the white
+      snow a huge grave, wide, deep. I shall see it to my last minute. Two vans
+      had already stopped near the hole. Each van held thirteen corpses. The
+      vans were dumped into the trench and the soldiers commenced to sort the
+      bodies into rows of six. I watched for my son. At last I recognized him in
+      a body that half hung over the edge of the trench. Horrors of suffering
+      were stamped in the expression of his face. I threw myself beside him. I
+      said that I was his father. They let me embrace him a last time and count
+      his wounds. He had fourteen. Someone had stolen the gold chain that had
+      hung about his neck and held the picture of his mother, who died the year
+      before. I whispered into his ear, I swore to avenge him. Forty-eight hours
+      later I had placed myself at the disposition of the Revolutionary
+      Committee. A week had not passed before Touman, whom, it seems, I resemble
+      and who was one of the Secret Service agents in Kiew, was assassinated in
+      the train that was taking him to St. Petersburg. The assassination was
+      kept a secret. I received all his papers and I took his place with you. I
+      was doomed beforehand and I asked nothing better, so long as I might last
+      until after the execution of Trebassof. Ah, how I longed to kill him with
+      my own hands! But another had already been assigned the duty and my role
+      was to help him. And do you suppose I am going to tell you the name of
+      that other? Never! And if you discover that other, as you have discovered
+      me, another will come, and another, and another, until Trebassof has paid
+      for his crimes. That is all I have to say to you, Koupriane. As for you,
+      my little fellow,&rdquo; added he, turning to Rouletabille, &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t give
+      much for your bones. Neither of you will last long. That is my
+      consolation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane had not interrupted the man. He looked at him in silence, sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know, my poor man, you will be hanged now?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; growled Rouletabille. &ldquo;Monsieur Koupriane, I&rsquo;ll bet you my purse
+      that he will not be hanged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not?&rdquo; demanded the Chief of rolice, while, upon a sign from him,
+      they took away the false Touman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because it is I who denounced him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a reason! And what would you like me to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guard him for me; for me alone, do you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In exchange for what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In exchange for the life of General Trebassof, if I must put it that
+      way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? The life of General Trebassof! You speak as if it belonged to you, as
+      if you could dispose of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille laid his hand on Koupriane&rsquo;s arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps that&rsquo;s so,&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you like me to tell you one thing, Monsieur Rouletabille? It is
+      that General Trebassof&rsquo;s life, after what has just escaped the lips of
+      this Touman, who is not Touman, isn&rsquo;t worth any more than&mdash;than yours
+      if you remain here. Since you are disposed not to do anything more in this
+      affair, take the train, monsieur, take the train, and go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille walked back and forth, very much worked up; then suddenly he
+      stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is impossible. I cannot; I am not able to go
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good God, Monsieur Koupriane, because I have to interview the President
+      of the Duma yet, and complete my little inquiry into the politics of the
+      cadets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane looked at him with a sour grin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do with that man?&rdquo; demanded Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have him fixed up first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then take him before the judges.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is to say, to the gallows?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Koupriane, I offer it to you again. Life for life. Give me the
+      life of that poor devil and I promise you General Trebassof&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Explain yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all. Do you promise me that you will maintain silence about the
+      case of that man and that you will not touch a hair of his head?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane looked at Rouletabille as he had looked at him during the
+      altercation they had on the edge of the Gulf. He decided the same way this
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You have my word. The poor devil!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a brave man, Monsieur Koupriane, but a little quick with the
+      whip...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you expect? One&rsquo;s work teaches that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning. No, don&rsquo;t trouble to show me out. I am compromised enough
+      already,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Au revoir, and good luck! Get to work interviewing the President of the
+      Duma,&rdquo; added Koupriane knowingly, with a great laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Rouletabille was already gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That lad,&rdquo; said the Chief of Police aloud to himself, &ldquo;hasn&rsquo;t told me a
+      bit of what he knows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IX. ANNOUCHKA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now it&rsquo;s between us two, Natacha,&rdquo; murmured Rouletabille as soon as
+      he was outside. He hailed the first carriage that passed and gave the
+      address of the datcha des Iles. When he got in he held his head between
+      his hands; his face burned, his jaws were set. But by a prodigious effort
+      of his will he resumed almost instantly his calm, his self-control. As he
+      went back across the Neva, across the bridge where he had felt so elated a
+      little while before, and saw the isles again he sighed heavily. &ldquo;I thought
+      I had got it all over with, so far as I was concerned, and now I don&rsquo;t
+      know where it will stop.&rdquo; His eyes grew dark for a moment with somber
+      thoughts and the vision of the Lady in Black rose before him; then he
+      shook his head, filled his pipe, lighted it, dried a tear that had been
+      caused doubtless by a little smoke in his eye, and stopped
+      sentimentalizing. A quarter of an hour later he gave a true Russian
+      nobleman&rsquo;s fist-blow in the back to the coachman as an intimation that
+      they had reached the Trebassof villa. A charming picture was before him.
+      They were all lunching gayly in the garden, around the table in the
+      summer-house. He was astonished, however, at not seeing Natacha with them.
+      Boris Mourazoff and Michael Korsakoff were there. Rouletabille did not
+      wish to be seen. He made a sign to Ermolai, who was passing through the
+      garden and who hurried to meet him at the gate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Barinia,&rdquo; said the reporter, in a low voice and with his finger to
+      his lips to warn the faithful attendant to caution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In two minutes Matrena Petrovna joined Rouletabille in the lodge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, where is Natacha?&rdquo; he demanded hurriedly as she kissed his hands
+      quite as though she had made an idol of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has gone away. Yes, out. Oh, I did not keep her. I did not try to
+      hold her back. Her expression frightened me, you can understand, my little
+      angel. My, you are impatient! What is it about? How do we stand? What have
+      you decided? I am your slave. Command me. Command me. The keys of the
+      villa?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, give me a key to the veranda; you must have several. I must be able
+      to get into the house to-night if it becomes necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew a key from her gown, gave it to the young man and said a few
+      words in Russian to Ermolai, to enforce upon him that he must obey the
+      little domovoi-doukh in anything, day or night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell me where Natacha has gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boris&rsquo;s parents came to see us a little while ago, to inquire after the
+      general. They have taken Natacha away with them, as they often have done.
+      Natacha went with them readily enough. Little domovoi, listen to me,
+      listen to Matrena Petrovna&mdash;Anyone would have said she was expecting
+      it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then she has gone to lunch at their house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doubtless, unless they have gone to a cafe. I don&rsquo;t know. Boris&rsquo;s father
+      likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine. Calm
+      yourself, little domovoi. What ails you? Bad news, eh? Any bad news?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; everything is all right. Quick, the address of Boris&rsquo;s family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la Poste.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good. Thank you. Adieu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He started for the Place St. Isaac, and picked up an interpreter at the
+      Grand Morskaia Hotel on the way. It might be useful to have him. At the
+      Place St. Isaac he learned the Morazoffs and Natacha Trebassof had gone by
+      train for luncheon at Bergalowe, one of the nearby stations in Finland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is all,&rdquo; said he, and added apart to himself, &ldquo;And perhaps that is
+      not true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paid the coachman and the interpreter, and lunched at the Brasserie de
+      Vienne nearby. He left there a half-hour later, much calmer. He took his
+      way to the Grand Morskaia Hotel, went inside and asked the schwitzar:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you give me the address of Mademoiselle Annouchka?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The singer of the Krestowsky?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is who I mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She had luncheon here. She has just gone away with the prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without any curiosity as to which prince, Rouletabille cursed his luck and
+      again asked for her address.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, she lives in an apartment just across the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille, feeling better, crossed the street, followed by the
+      interpreter that he had engaged. Across the way he learned on the landing
+      of the first floor that Mademoiselle Annouchka was away for the day. He
+      descended, still followed by his interpreter, and recalling how someone
+      had told him that in Russia it was always profitable to be generous, he
+      gave five roubles to the interpreter and asked him for some information
+      about Mademoiselle Annouchka&rsquo;s life in St. Petersburg. The interpreter
+      whispered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She arrived a week ago, but has not spent a single night in her apartment
+      over there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pointed to the house they had just left, and added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Merely her address for the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;I understand. She sings this evening,
+      doesn&rsquo;t she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, it will be a wonderful debut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I know. Thanks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All these frustrations in the things he had undertaken that day instead of
+      disheartening him plunged him deep into hard thinking. He returned, his
+      hands in his pockets, whistling softly, to the Place St. Isaac, walked
+      around the church, keeping an eye on the house at the corner, investigated
+      the monument, went inside, examined all its details, came out marveling,
+      and finally went once again to the residence of the Mourazoffs, was told
+      that they had not yet returned from the Finland town, then went and shut
+      himself in his room at the hotel, where he smoked a dozen pipes of
+      tobacco. He emerged from his cloud of smoke at dinner-time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At ten that evening he stepped out of his carriage before the Krestowsky.
+      The establishment of Krestowsky, which looms among the Isles much as the
+      Aquarium does, is neither a theater, nor a music-hall, nor a cafe-concert,
+      nor a restaurant, nor a public garden; it is all of these and some other
+      things besides. Summer theater, winter theater, open-air theater, hall for
+      spectacles, scenic mountain, exercise-ground, diversions of all sorts,
+      garden promenades, cafes, restaurants, private dining-rooms, everything is
+      combined here that can amuse, charm, lead to the wildest orgies, or
+      provide those who never think of sleep till toward three or four o&rsquo;clock
+      of a morning the means to await the dawn with patience. The most
+      celebrated companies of the old and the new world play there amid an
+      enthusiasm that is steadily maintained by the foresight of the managers:
+      Russian and foreign dancers, and above all the French chanteuses, the
+      little dolls of the cafes-concerts, so long as they are young, bright, and
+      elegantly dressed, may meet their fortune there. If there is no such luck,
+      they are sure at least to find every evening some old beau, and often some
+      officer, who willingly pays twenty-five roubles for the sole pleasure of
+      having a demoiselle born on the banks of the Seine for his companion at
+      the supper-table. After their turn at the singing, these women display
+      their graces and their eager smiles in the promenades of the garden or
+      among the tables where the champagne-drinkers sit. The head-liners,
+      naturally, are not driven to this wearying perambulation, but can go away
+      to their rest if they are so inclined. However, the management is
+      appreciative if they accept the invitation of some dignitary of the army,
+      of administration, or of finance, who seeks the honor of hearing from the
+      chanteuse, in a private room and with a company of friends not disposed to
+      melancholy, the Bohemian songs of the Vieux Derevnia. They sing, they
+      loll, they talk of Paris, and above all they drink. If sometimes the
+      little fete ends rather roughly, it is the friendly and affectionate
+      champagne that is to blame, but usually the orgies remain quite innocent,
+      of a character that certainly might trouble the temperance societies but
+      need not make M. le Senateur Berenger feel involved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A war whose powder fumes reeked still, a revolution whose last defeated
+      growls had not died away at the period of these events, had not at all
+      diminished the nightly gayeties of Kretowsky. Many of the young men who
+      displayed their uniforms that evening and called their &ldquo;Nichevo&rdquo; along the
+      brilliantly lighted paths of the public gardens, or filled the open-air
+      tables, or drank vodka at the buffets, or admired the figures of the
+      wandering soubrettes, had come here on the eve of their departure for the
+      war and had returned with the same child-like, enchanted smile, the same
+      ideal of futile joy, and kissed their passing comrades as gayly as ever.
+      Some of them had a sleeve lying limp now, or walked with a crutch, or even
+      on a wooden leg, but it was, all the same, &ldquo;Nichevo!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The crowd this evening was denser than ordinarily, because there was the
+      chance to hear Annouchka again for the first time since the somber days of
+      Moscow. The students were ready to give her an ovation, and no one opposed
+      it, because, after all, if she sang now it was because the police were
+      willing at last. If the Tsar&rsquo;s government had granted her her life, it was
+      not in order to compel her to die of hunger. Each earned a livelihood as
+      was possible. Annouchka only knew how to sing and dance, and so she must
+      sing and dance!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Rouletabille entered the Krestowsky Gardens, Annouchka had commenced
+      her number, which ended with a tremendous &ldquo;Roussalka.&rdquo; Surrounded by a
+      chorus of male and female dancers in the national dress and with red
+      boots, striking tambourines with their fingers, then suddenly taking a
+      rigid pose to let the young woman&rsquo;s voice, which was of rather ordinary
+      register, come out, Annouchka had centered the attention of the immense
+      audience upon herself. All the other parts of the establishment were
+      deserted, the tables had been removed, and a panting crowd pressed about
+      the open-air theater. Rouletabille stood up on his chair at the moment
+      tumultuous &ldquo;Bravos&rdquo; sounded from a group of students. Annouchka bowed
+      toward them, seeming to ignore the rest of the audience, which had not
+      dared declare itself yet. She sang the old peasant songs arranged to
+      present-day taste, and interspersed them with dances. They had an enormous
+      success, because she gave her whole soul to them and sang with her voice
+      sometimes caressing, sometimes menacing, and sometimes magnificently
+      desperate, giving much significance to words which on paper had not
+      aroused the suspicions of the censor. The taste of the day was obviously
+      still a taste for the revolution, which retained its influence on the
+      banks of the Neva. What she was doing was certainly very bold, and
+      apparently she realized how audacious she was, because, with great
+      adroitness, she would bring out immediately after some dangerous phrase a
+      patriotic couplet which everybody was anxious to applaud. She succeeded by
+      such means in appealing to all the divergent groups of her audience and
+      secured a complete triumph for herself. The students, the revolutionaries,
+      the radicals and the cadets acclaimed the singer, glorifying not only her
+      art but also and beyond everything else the sister of the engineer
+      Volkousky, who had been doomed to perish with her brother by the bullets
+      of the Semenovsky regiment. The friends of the Court on their side could
+      not forget that it was she who, in front of the Kremlin, had struck aside
+      the arm of Constantin Kochkarof, ordered by the Central Revolutionary
+      Committee to assassinate the Grand Duke Peter Alexandrovitch as he drove
+      up to the governor&rsquo;s house in his sleigh. The bomb burst ten feet away,
+      killing Constantin Kochkarof himself. It may be that before death came he
+      had time to hear Annouchka cry to him, &ldquo;Wretch! You were told to kill the
+      prince, not to assassinate his children.&rdquo; As it happened, Peter
+      Alexandrovitch held on his knees the two little princesses, seven and
+      eight years old. The Court had wished to recompense her for that heroic
+      act. Annouchka had spit at the envoy of the Chief of Police who called to
+      speak to her of money. At the Hermitage in Moscow, where she sang then,
+      some of her admirers had warned her of possible reprisals on the part of
+      the revolutionaries. But the revolutionaries gave her assurance at once
+      that she had nothing to fear. They approved her act and let her know that
+      they now counted on her to kill the Grand Duke some time when he was
+      alone; which had made Annouchka laugh. She was an enfant terrible, whose
+      friends no one knew, who passed for very wise, and whose lines of intrigue
+      were inscrutable. She enjoyed making her hosts in the private supper-rooms
+      quake over their meal. One day she had said bluntly to one of the most
+      powerful tchinovnicks of Moscow: &ldquo;You, my old friend, you are president of
+      the Black Hundred. Your fate is sealed. Yesterday you were condemned to
+      death by the delegates of the Central Committee at Presnia. Say your
+      prayers.&rdquo; The man reached for champagne. He never finished his glass. The
+      dvornicks carried him out stricken with apoplexy. Since the time she saved
+      the little grand-duchesses the police had orders to allow her to act and
+      talk as she pleased. She had been mixed up in the deepest plots against
+      the government. Those who lent the slightest countenance to such plottings
+      and were not of the police simply disappeared. Their friends dared not
+      even ask for news of them. The only thing not in doubt about them was that
+      they were at hard labor somewhere in the mines of the Ural Mountains. At
+      the moment of the revolution Annouchka had a brother who was an engineer
+      on the Kasan-Moscow line. This Volkousky was one of the leaders on the
+      Strike Committee. The authorities had an eye on him. The revolution
+      started. He, with the help of his sister, accomplished one of those
+      formidable acts which will carry their memory as heroes to the farthest
+      posterity. Their work accomplished, they were taken by Trebassof&rsquo;s
+      soldiers. Both were condemned to death. Volkousky was executed first, and
+      the sister was taking her turn when an officer of the government arrived
+      on horseback to stop the firing. The Tsar, informed of her intended fate,
+      had sent a pardon by telegraph. After that she disappeared. She was
+      supposed to have gone on some tour across Europe, as was her habit, for
+      she spoke all the languages, like a true Bohemian. Now she had reappeared
+      in all her joyous glory at Krestowsky. It was certain, however, that she
+      had not forgotten her brother. Gossips said that if the government and the
+      police showed themselves so long-enduring they found it to their interest
+      to do so. The open, apparent life Annouchka led was less troublesome to
+      them than her hidden activities would be. The lesser police who surrounded
+      the Chief of the St. Petersburg Secret Service, the famous Gounsovski, had
+      meaning smiles when the matter was discussed. Among them Annouchka had the
+      ignoble nickname, &ldquo;Stool-pigeon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille must have been well aware of all these particulars concerning
+      Annouchka, for he betrayed no astonishment at the great interest and the
+      strong emotion she aroused. From the corner where he was he could see only
+      a bit of the stage, and he was standing on tiptoes to see the singer when
+      he felt his coat pulled. He turned. It was the jolly advocate, well known
+      for his gastronomic feats, Athanase Georgevitch, along with the jolly
+      Imperial councilor, Ivan Petrovitch, who motioned him to climb down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come with us; we have a box.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille did not need urging, and he was soon installed in the front
+      of a box where he could see the stage and the public both. Just then the
+      curtain fell on the first part of Annouchka&rsquo;s performance. The friends
+      were soon rejoined by Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the great timber-merchant,
+      who came from behind the scenes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been to see the beautiful Onoto,&rdquo; announced the Lithuanian with a
+      great satisfied laugh. &ldquo;Tell me the news. All the girls are sulking over
+      Annouchka&rsquo;s success.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who dragged you into the Onoto&rsquo;s dressing-room then?" demanded Athanase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Gounsovski himself, my dear. He is very amateurish, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! do you knock around with Gounsovski?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On my word, I tell you, dear friends, he isn&rsquo;t a bad acquaintance. He did
+      me a little service at Bakou last year. A good acquaintance in these times
+      of public trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are in the oil business now, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, a little of everything for a livelihood. I have a little well
+      down Bakou way, nothing big; and a little house, a very small one for my
+      small business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a monopolist Thaddeus is,&rdquo; declared Athanase Georgevitch, hitting
+      him a formidable slap on the thigh with his enormous hand. &ldquo;Gounsovski has
+      come himself to keep an eye on Annouchka&rsquo;s debut, eh? Only he goes into
+      Onoto&rsquo;s dressing-room, the rogue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he doesn&rsquo;t trouble himself. Do you know who he is to have supper
+      with? With Annouchka, my dears, and we are invited.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; inquired the jovial councilor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems Gounsovski influenced the minister to permit Annouchka&rsquo;s
+      performance by declaring he would be responsible for it all. He required
+      from Annouchka solely that she have supper with him on the evening of her
+      debut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Annouchka consented?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was the condition, it seems. For that matter, they say that
+      Annouchka and Gounsovski don&rsquo;t get along so badly together. Gounsovski has
+      done Annouchka many a good turn. They say he is in love with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has the air of an umbrella merchant,&rdquo; snorted Athanase Georgevitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen him at close range?&rdquo; inquired Ivan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have dined at his house, though it is nothing to boast of, on my word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what he said,&rdquo; replied Thaddeus. &ldquo;When he knew we were here
+      together, he said to me: &lsquo;Bring him, he is a charming fellow who plies a
+      great fork; and bring that dear man Ivan Petrovitch, and all your
+      friends.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I only dined at his house,&rdquo; grumbled Athanase, &ldquo;because there was a
+      favor he was going to do me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He does services for everybody, that man,&rdquo; observed Ivan Petrovitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, of course; he ought to,&rdquo; retorted Athanase. &ldquo;What is a chief
+      of Secret Service for if not to do things for everybody? For everybody, my
+      dear friends, and a little for himself besides. A chief of Secret Service
+      has to be in with everybody, with everybody and his father, as La Fontaine
+      says (if you know that author), if he wants to hold his place. You know
+      what I mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Athanase laughed loudly, glad of the chance to show how French he could be
+      in his allusions, and looked at Rouletabille to see if he had been able to
+      catch the tone of the conversation; but Rouletabille was too much occupied
+      in watching a profile wrapped in a mantilla of black lace, in the Spanish
+      fashion, to repay Athanase&rsquo;s performance with a knowing smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You certainly have naive notions. You think a chief of Secret Police
+      should be an ogre,&rdquo; replied the advocate as he nodded here and there to
+      his friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, certainly not. He needs to be a sheep in a place like that, a
+      thorough sheep. Gounsovski is soft as a sheep. The time I dined with him
+      he had mutton streaked with fat. He is just like that. I am sure he is
+      mainly layers of fat. When you shake hands you feel as though you had
+      grabbed a piece of fat. My word! And when he eats he wags his jaw
+      fattishly. His head is like that, too; bald, you know, with a cranium like
+      fresh lard. He speaks softly and looks at you like a kid looking to its
+      mother for a juicy meal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;why&mdash;it is Natacha!&rdquo; murmured the lips of the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly it is Natacha, Natacha herself,&rdquo; exclaimed Ivan Petrovitch, who
+      had used his glasses the better to see whom the young French journalist
+      was looking at. &ldquo;Ah, the dear child! she has wanted to see Annouchka for a
+      long time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, Natacha! So it is. So it is. Natacha! Natacha!&rdquo; said the others.
+      &ldquo;And with Boris Mourazoff&rsquo;s parents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Boris is not there,&rdquo; sniggered Thaddeus Tehitchnikoff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he can&rsquo;t be far away. If he was there we would see Michael Korsakoff
+      too. They keep close on each other&rsquo;s heels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How has she happened to leave the general? She said she couldn&rsquo;t bear to
+      be away from him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Except to see Annouchka,&rdquo; replied Ivan. &ldquo;She wanted to see her, and
+      talked so about it when I was there that even Feodor Feodorovitch was
+      rather scandalized at her and Matrena Petrovna reproved her downright
+      rudely. But what a girl wishes the gods bring about. That&rsquo;s the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s so, I know,&rdquo; put in Athanase. &ldquo;Ivan Petrovitch is right. Natacha
+      hasn&rsquo;t been able to hold herself in since she read that Annouchka was
+      going to make her debut at Krestowsky. She said she wasn&rsquo;t going to die
+      without having seen the great artist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her father had almost drawn her away from that crowd,&rdquo; affirmed Ivan,
+      &ldquo;and that was as it should be. She must have fixed up this affair with
+      Boris and his parents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Feodor certainly isn&rsquo;t aware that his daughter&rsquo;s idea was to applaud
+      the heroine of Kasan station. She is certainly made of stern stuff, my
+      word,&rdquo; said Athanase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha, you must remember, is a student,&rdquo; said Thaddeus, shaking his
+      head; &ldquo;a true student. They have misfortunes like that now in so many
+      families. I recall, apropos of what Ivan said just now, how today she
+      asked Michael Korsakoff, before me, to let her know where Annouchka would
+      sing. More yet, she said she wished to speak to that artist if it were
+      possible. Michael frowned on that idea, even before me. But Michael
+      couldn&rsquo;t refuse her, any more than the others. He can reach Annouchka
+      easier than anyone else. You remember it was he who rode hard and arrived
+      in time with the pardon for that beautiful witch; she ought not to forget
+      him if she cared for her life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anyone who knows Michael Nikolaievitch knows that he did his duty
+      promptly,&rdquo; announced Athanase Georgevitch crisply. &ldquo;But he would not have
+      gone a step further to save Annouchka. Even now he won&rsquo;t compromise his
+      career by being seen at the home of a woman who is never from under the
+      eyes of Gounsovski&rsquo;s agents and who hasn&rsquo;t been nicknamed &lsquo;Stool-pigeon&rsquo; 
+      for nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why do we go to supper tonight with Annouchka?&rdquo; asked Ivan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s not the same thing. We are invited by Gounsovski himself. Don&rsquo;t
+      forget that, if stories concerning it drift about some day, my friends,&rdquo;
+       said Thaddeus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For that matter, Thaddeus, I accept the invitation of the honorable chief
+      of our admirable Secret Service because I don&rsquo;t wish to slight him. I have
+      dined at his house already. By sitting opposite him at a public table here
+      I feel that I return that politeness. What do you say to that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since you have dined with him, tell us what kind of a man he is aside
+      from his fattish qualities,&rdquo; said the curious councilor. &ldquo;So many things
+      are said about him. He certainly seems to be a man it is better to stand
+      in with than to fall out with, so I accept his invitation. How could you
+      manage to refuse it, anyway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When he first offered me hospitality,&rdquo; explained the advocate, &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t
+      even know him. I never had been near him. One day a police agent came and
+      invited me to dinner by command&mdash;or, at least, I understood it wasn&rsquo;t
+      wise to refuse the invitation, as you said, Ivan Petrovitch. When I went
+      to his house I thought I was entering a fortress, and inside I thought it
+      must be an umbrella shop. There were umbrellas everywhere, and goloshes.
+      True, it was a day of pouring rain. I was struck by there being no guard
+      with a big revolver in the antechamber. He had a little, timid schwitzar
+      there, who took my umbrella, murmuring &lsquo;barine&rsquo; and bowing over and over
+      again. He conducted me through very ordinary rooms quite unguarded to an
+      average sitting-room of a common kind. We dined with Madame Gounsovski,
+      who appeared fattish like her husband, and three or four men whom I had
+      never seen anywhere. One servant waited on us. My word!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At dessert Gounsovski took me aside and told me I was unwise to &lsquo;argue
+      that way.&rsquo; I asked him what he meant by that. He took my hands between his
+      fat hands and repeated, &lsquo;No, no, it is not wise to argue like that.&rsquo; I
+      couldn&rsquo;t draw anything else out of him. For that matter, I understood him,
+      and, you know, since that day I have cut out certain side passages
+      unnecessary in my general law pleadings that had been giving me a
+      reputation for rather too free opinions in the papers. None of that at my
+      age! Ah, the great Gounsovski! Over our coffee I asked him if he didn&rsquo;t
+      find the country in pretty strenuous times. He replied that he looked
+      forward with impatience to the month of May, when he could go for a rest
+      to a little property with a small garden that he had bought at Asnieres,
+      near Paris. When he spoke of their house in the country Madame Gounsovski
+      heaved a sigh of longing for those simple country joys. The month of May
+      brought tears to her eyes. Husband and wife looked at one another with
+      real tenderness. They had not the air of thinking for one second:
+      to-morrow or the day after, before our country happiness comes, we may
+      find ourselves stripped of everything. No! They were sure of their happy
+      vacation and nothing seemed able to disquiet them under their fat.
+      Gounsovski has done everybody so many services that no one really wishes
+      him ill, poor man. Besides, have you noticed, my dear old friends, that no
+      one ever tries to work harm to chiefs of Secret Police? One goes after
+      heads of police, prefects of police, ministers, grand-dukes, and even
+      higher, but the chiefs of Secret Police are never, never attacked. They
+      can promenade tranquilly in the streets or in the gardens of Krestowsky or
+      breathe the pure air of the Finland country or even the country around
+      Paris. They have done so many little favors for this one and that, here
+      and there, that no one wishes to do them the least injury. Each person
+      always thinks, too, that others have been less well served than he. That
+      is the secret of the thing, my friends, that is the secret. What do you
+      say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The others said: &ldquo;Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski. He knows. He knows.
+      Certainly, accept his supper. With Annouchka it will be fun.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs,&rdquo; asked Rouletabille, who continued to make discoveries in the
+      audience, &ldquo;do you know that officer who is seated at the end of a row down
+      there in the orchestra seats? See, he is getting up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He? Why, that is Prince Galitch, who was one of the richest lords of the
+      North Country. Now he is practically ruined.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks, gentlemen; certainly it is he. I know him,&rdquo; said Rouletabille,
+      seating himself and mastering his emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say he is a great admirer of Annouchka,&rdquo; hazarded Thaddeus. Then he
+      walked away from the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The prince has been ruined by women,&rdquo; said Athanase Georgevitch, who
+      pretended to know the entire chronicle of gallantries in the empire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He also has been on good terms with Gounsovski,&rdquo; continued Thaddeus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He passes at court, though, for an unreliable. He once made a long visit
+      to Tolstoi.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bah! Gounsovski must have rendered some signal service to that imprudent
+      prince,&rdquo; concluded Athanase. &ldquo;But for yourself, Thaddeus, you haven&rsquo;t said
+      what you did with Gounsovski at Bakou.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      (Rouletabille did not lose a word of what was being said around him,
+      although he never lost sight of the profile hidden in the black mantle nor
+      of Prince Galitch, his personal enemy,* who reappeared, it seemed to him,
+      at a very critical moment.)
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * as told in &ldquo;The Lady In Black.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was returning from Balakani in a drojki,&rdquo; said Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff,
+      &ldquo;and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen the debris of my oil
+      shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when I met Gounsovski in the
+      road, who, with two of his friends, found themselves badly off with one of
+      the wheels of their carriage broken. I stopped. He explained to me that he
+      had a Tartar coachman, and that this coachman having seen an Armenian on
+      the road before him, could find nothing better to do than run full tilt
+      into the Armenian&rsquo;s equipage. He had reached over and taken the reins from
+      him, but a wheel of the carriage was broken.&rdquo; (Rouletabille quivered,
+      because he caught a glance of communication between Prince Galitch and
+      Natacha, who was leaning over the edge of her box.) &ldquo;So I offered to take
+      Gounsovski and his friends into my carriage, and we rode all together to
+      Bakou after Gounsovski, who always wishes to do a service, as Athanase
+      Georgevitch says, had warned his Tartar coachman not to finish the
+      Armenian.&rdquo; (Prince Galitch, at the moment the orchestra commenced the
+      introductory music for Annouchka&rsquo;s new number, took advantage of all eyes
+      being turned toward the rising curtain to pass near Natacha&rsquo;s seat. This
+      time he did not look at Natacha, but Rouletabille was sure that his lips
+      had moved as he went by her.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaddeus continued: &ldquo;It is necessary to explain that at Bakou my little
+      house is one of the first before you reach the quay. I had some Armenian
+      employees there. When arrived, what do you suppose I saw? A file of
+      soldiers with cannon, yes, with a cannon, on my word, turned against my
+      house and an officer saying quietly, &lsquo;there it is. Fire!&rsquo;&rdquo; (Rouletabille
+      made yet another discovery&mdash;two, three discoveries. Near by, standing
+      back of Natacha&rsquo;s seat, was a figure not unknown to the young reporter,
+      and there, in one of the orchestra chairs, were two other men whose faces
+      he had seen that same morning in Koupriane&rsquo;s barracks. Here was where a
+      memory for faces stood him in good stead. He saw that he was not the only
+      person keeping close watch on Natacha.) &ldquo;When I heard what the officer
+      said,&rdquo; Thaddeus went on, &ldquo;I nearly dropped out of the drojki. I hurried to
+      the police commissioner. He explained the affair promptly, and I was quick
+      to understand. During my absence one of my Armenian employees had fired at
+      a Tartar who was passing. For that matter, he had killed him. The governor
+      was informed and had ordered the house to be bombarded, for an example, as
+      had been done with several others. I found Gounsovski and told him the
+      trouble in two words. He said it wasn&rsquo;t necessary for him to interfere in
+      the affair, that I had only to talk to the officer. &lsquo;Give him a good
+      present, a hundred roubles, and he will leave your house. I went back to
+      the officer and took him aside; he said he wanted to do anything that he
+      could for me, but that the order was positive to bombard the house. I
+      reported his answer to Gounsovski, who told me: &lsquo;Tell him then to turn the
+      muzzle of the cannon the other way and bombard the building of the chemist
+      across the way, then he can always say that he mistook which house was
+      intended.&rsquo; I did that, and he had them turn the cannon. They bombarded the
+      chemist&rsquo;s place, and I got out of the whole thing for the hundred roubles.
+      Gounsovski, the good fellow, may be a great lump of fat and be like an
+      umbrella merchant, but I have always been grateful to him from the bottom
+      of my heart, you can understand, Athanase Georgevitch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?&rdquo; inquired Rouletabille
+      all at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh!&rdquo; laughed the others. &ldquo;Since he went so openly to visit Tolstoi he
+      doesn&rsquo;t go to the court any more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;his opinions? What are his opinions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the opinions of everybody are so mixed nowadays, nobody knows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ivan Petrovitch said, &ldquo;He passes among some people as very advanced and
+      very much compromised.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet they don&rsquo;t bother him?&rdquo; inquired Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pooh, pooh,&rdquo; replied the gay Councilor of Empire, &ldquo;it is rather he who
+      tries to mix with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaddeus stooped down and said, &ldquo;They say that he can&rsquo;t be reached because
+      of the hold he has over a certain great personage in the court, and it
+      would be a scandal&mdash;a great scandal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be quiet, Thaddeus,&rdquo; interrupted Athanase Georgevitch, roughly. &ldquo;It is
+      easy to see that you are lately from the provinces to speak so recklessly,
+      but if you go on this way I shall leave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Athanase Georgevitch is right; hang onto your mouth, Thaddeus,&rdquo; counseled
+      Ivan Petrovitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The talkers all grew silent, for the curtain was rising. In the audience
+      there were mysterious allusions being made to this second number of
+      Annouchka, but no one seemed able to say what it was to be, and it was, as
+      a matter of fact, very simple. After the whirl-wind of dances and choruses
+      and all the splendor with which she had been accompanied the first time,
+      Annouchka appeared as a poor Russian peasant in a scene representing the
+      barren steppes, and very simply she sank to her knees and recited her
+      evening prayers. Annouchka was singularly beautiful. Her aquiline nose
+      with sensitive nostrils, the clean-cut outline of her eyebrows, her look
+      that now was almost tender, now menacing, always unusual, her pale rounded
+      cheeks and the entire expression of her face showed clearly the strength
+      of new ideas, spontaneity, deep resolution and, above all, passion. The
+      prayer was passionate. She had an admirable contralto voice which affected
+      the audience strangely from its very first notes. She asked God for daily
+      bread for everyone in the immense Russian land, daily bread for the flesh
+      and for the spirit, and she stirred the tears of everyone there, to
+      which-ever party they belonged. And when, as her last note sped across the
+      desolate steppe and she rose and walked toward the miserable hut, frantic
+      bravos from a delirious audience told her the prodigious emotions she had
+      aroused. Little Rouletabille, who, not understanding the words,
+      nevertheless caught the spirit of that prayer, wept. Everybody wept. Ivan
+      Petrovitch, Athanase Georgevitch, Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff were standing up,
+      stamping their feet and clapping their hands like enthusiastic boys. The
+      students, who could be easily distinguished by the uniform green edging
+      they wore on their coats, uttered insensate cries. And suddenly there rose
+      the first strains of the national hymn. There was hesitation at first, a
+      wavering. But not for long. Those who had been dreading some
+      counter-demonstration realized that no objection could possibly be raised
+      to a prayer for the Tsar. All heads uncovered and the Bodje Taara Krari
+      mounted, unanimously, toward the stars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Through his tears the young reporter never gave up his close watch on
+      Natacha. She had half risen, and, sinking back, leaned on the edge of the
+      box. She called, time and time again, a name that Rouletabille could not
+      hear in the uproar, but that he felt sure was &ldquo;Annouchka! Annouchka!&rdquo; &ldquo;The
+      reckless girl,&rdquo; murmured Rouletabille, and, profiting by the general
+      excitement, he left the box without being noticed. He made his way through
+      the crowd toward Natacha, whom he had sought futilely since morning. The
+      audience, after clamoring in vain for a repetition of the prayer by
+      Annouchka, commenced to disperse, and the reporter was swept along with
+      them for a few moments. When he reached the range of boxes he saw that
+      Natacha and the family she had been with were gone. He looked on all sides
+      without seeing the object of his search and like a madman commenced to run
+      through the passages, when a sudden idea struck his blood cold. He
+      inquired where the exit for the artists was and as soon as it was pointed
+      out, he hurried there. He was not mistaken. In the front line of the crowd
+      that waited to see Annouchka come out he recognized Natacha, with her head
+      enveloped in the black mantle so that none should see her face. Besides,
+      this corner of the garden was in a half-gloom. The police barred the way;
+      he could not approach as near Natacha as he wished. He set himself to slip
+      like a serpent through the crowd. He was not separated from Natacha by
+      more than four or five persons when a great jostling commenced. Annouchka
+      was coming out. Cries rose: &ldquo;Annouchka! Annouchka!&rdquo; Rouletabille threw
+      himself on his knees and on all-fours succeeded in sticking his head
+      through into the way kept by the police for Annouchka&rsquo;s passage. There,
+      wrapped in a great red mantle, his hat on his arm, was a man Rouletabille
+      immediately recognized. It was Prince Galitch. They were hurrying to
+      escape the impending pressure of the crowd. But Annouchka as she passed
+      near Natacha stopped just a second&mdash;a movement that did not escape
+      Rouletabille&mdash;and, turning toward her said just the one word,
+      &ldquo;Caracho.&rdquo; Then she passed on. Rouletabille got up and forced his way
+      back, having once more lost Natacha. He searched for her. He ran to the
+      carriage-way and arrived just in time to see her seated in a carriage with
+      the Mourazoff family. The carriage started at once in the direction of the
+      datcha des Iles. The young man remained standing there, thinking. He made
+      a gesture as though he were ready now to let luck take its course. &ldquo;In the
+      end,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;it will be better so, perhaps,&rdquo; and then, to himself, &ldquo;Now
+      to supper, my boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned in his tracks and soon was established in the glaring light of
+      the restaurant. Officers standing, glass in hand, were saluting from table
+      to table and waving a thousand compliments with grace that was almost
+      feminine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He heard his name called joyously, and recognized the voice of Ivan
+      Petrovitch. The three boon companions were seated over a bottle of
+      champagne resting in its ice-bath and were being served with tiny pates
+      while they waited for the supper-hour, which was now near.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille yielded to their invitation readily enough, and accompanied
+      them when the head-waiter informed Thaddeus that the gentlemen were
+      desired in a private room. They went to the first floor and were ushered
+      into a large apartment whose balcony opened on the hall of the
+      winter-theater, empty now. But the apartment was already occupied. Before
+      a table covered with a shining service Gounsovski did the honors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He received them like a servant, with his head down, an obsequious smile,
+      and his back bent, bowing several times as each of the guests were
+      presented to him. Athanase had described him accurately enough, a mannikin
+      in fat. Under the vast bent brow one could hardly see his eyes, behind the
+      blue glasses that seemed always ready to fall as he inclined too far his
+      fat head with its timid and yet all-powerful glance. When he spoke in his
+      falsetto voice, his chin dropped in a fold over his collar, and he had a
+      steady gesture with the thumb and index finger of his right hand to retain
+      the glasses from sliding down his short, thick nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind him there was the fine, haughty silhouette of Prince Galitch. He
+      had been invited by Annouchka, for she had consented to risk this supper
+      only in company with three or four of her friends, officers who could not
+      be further compromised by this affair, as they were already under the eye
+      of the Okrana (Secret Police) despite their high birth. Gounsovski had
+      seen them come with a sinister chuckle and had lavished upon them his
+      marks of devotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He loved Annouchka. It would have sufficed to have surprised just once the
+      jealous glance he sent from beneath his great blue glasses when he gazed
+      at the singer to have understood the sentiments that actuated him in the
+      presence of the beautiful daughter of the Black Land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Annouchka was seated, or, rather, she lounged, Oriental fashion, on the
+      sofa which ran along the wall behind the table. She paid attention to no
+      one. Her attitude was forbidding, even hostile. She indifferently allowed
+      her marvelous black hair that fell in two tresses over her shoulder to be
+      caressed by the perfumed hands of the beautiful Onoto, who had heard her
+      this evening for the first time and had thrown herself with enthusiasm
+      into her arms after the last number. Onoto was an artist too, and the
+      pique she felt at first over Annouchka&rsquo;s success could not last after the
+      emotion aroused by the evening prayer before the hut. &ldquo;Come to supper,&rdquo;
+       Annouchka had said to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With whom?&rdquo; inquired the Spanish artist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With Gounsovski.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do come. You will help me pay my debt and perhaps he will be useful to
+      you as well. He is useful to everybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Decidedly Onoto did not understand this country, where the worst enemies
+      supped together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille had been monopolized at once by Prince Galitch, who took him
+      into a corner and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doing here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I inconvenience you?&rdquo; asked the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The other assumed the amused smile of the great lord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;While there is still time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;believe me, you ought to start, to
+      quit this country. Haven&rsquo;t you had sufficient notice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the reporter. &ldquo;And you can dispense with any further notice
+      from this time on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned his back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa,&rdquo; commenced the
+      falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the young man and
+      begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch, who was already
+      busy with the hors-d&rsquo;oeuvres.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, monsieur?&rdquo; said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille saluted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see that I am in a country of acquaintances,&rdquo; he said, without
+      appearing disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rouletabille!&rdquo; cried la belle Onoto. &ldquo;Why, then, he is the little fellow
+      who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doing here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He came to save the life of General Trebassof,&rdquo; sniggered Gounsovski. &ldquo;He
+      is certainly a brave little young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The police know everything,&rdquo; said Rouletabille coldly. And he asked for
+      champagne, which he never drank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The champagne commenced its work. While Thaddeus and the officers told
+      each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women, Gounsovski,
+      who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille and gave that
+      young man fatherly counsel with great unction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more
+      difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his enemies
+      but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane. Understand me thoroughly:
+      Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly. He is good,
+      brave as a warrior, but I wouldn&rsquo;t give a kopeck for his police. He has
+      mixed in our affairs lately by creating his own secret police, but I don&rsquo;t
+      wish to meddle with that. It amuses us. It&rsquo;s the new style, anyway;
+      everybody wants his secret police nowadays. And yourself, young man, what,
+      after all, are you doing here? Reporting? No. Police work? That is our
+      business and your business. I wish you good luck, but I don&rsquo;t expect it.
+      Remember that if you need any help I will give it you willingly. I love to
+      be of service. And I don&rsquo;t wish any harm to befall you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, monsieur,&rdquo; was all Rouletabille replied, and he called
+      again for champagne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concerned
+      herself with her meal and had little answer for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Annouchka indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The daughter of General Trebassof.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that is true, on my word,&rdquo; cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, Natacha was there,&rdquo; joined in the other friends from the datcha
+      des Iles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For me, I saw her weep,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka fixedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is unlucky in having a father...&rdquo; Prince Galitch commenced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave,&rdquo; clucked Gounsovski. &ldquo;Your
+      health, dear Annouchka.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your health, Gounsovski. But you have no worry about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; demanded Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff in equivocal fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because he is too useful to the government,&rdquo; cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Annouchka; &ldquo;to the revolutionaries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All broke out laughing. Gounsovski recovered his slipping glasses by his
+      usual quick movement and sniggered softly, insinuatingly, like fat boiling
+      in the pot:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So they say. And it is my strength.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His system is excellent,&rdquo; said the prince. &ldquo;As he is in with everybody,
+      everybody is in with the police, without knowing it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say... ah, ah... they say...&rdquo; (Athanase was choking over a little
+      piece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) &ldquo;they say that he has
+      driven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the church of
+      Kasan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans, street-thieves
+      who since the recent political troubles had infested St. Petersburg and
+      whom nobody, could get rid of without paying for it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Athanase Georgevitch said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never have.
+      One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station. The girl,
+      frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with two roubles and
+      fifty kopecks in it. The hooligan took it all. &lsquo;Goodness,&rsquo; cried she, &lsquo;I
+      have nothing now to take my train with.&rsquo; &lsquo;How much is it?&rsquo; asked the
+      hooligan. &lsquo;Sixty kopecks.&rsquo; &lsquo;Sixty kopecks! Why didn&rsquo;t you say so?&rsquo; And the
+      bandit, hanging onto the two roubles, returned the fifty-kopeck piece to
+      the trembling child and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his own pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow,&rdquo; said
+      la belle Onoto. &ldquo;I had just stepped out of the door when I was stopped by
+      a hooligan. &lsquo;Give me twenty kopecks,&rsquo; said the hooligan. I was so
+      frightened that I couldn&rsquo;t get my purse open. &lsquo;Quicker,&rsquo; said he. Finally
+      I gave him twenty kopecks. &lsquo;Now,&rsquo; said he then, &lsquo;kiss my hand.&rsquo; And I had
+      to kiss it, because he held his knife in the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they are quick with their knives,&rdquo; said Thaddeus. &ldquo;As I was leaving
+      Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a huge
+      carving-knife under my nose. &lsquo;You can have it for a rouble and a half,&rsquo; he
+      said. You can believe that I bought it without any haggling. And it was a
+      very good bargain. It was worth at least three roubles. Your health, belle
+      Onoto.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I always take my revolver when I go out,&rdquo; said Athanase. &ldquo;It is more
+      prudent. I say this before the police. But I would rather be arrested by
+      the police than stabbed by the hooligans.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no place any more to buy revolvers,&rdquo; declared Ivan Petrovitch.
+      &ldquo;All such places are closed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gounsovski settled his glasses, rubbed his fat hands and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are some still at my locksmith&rsquo;s place. The proof is that to-day in
+      the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith, went into the
+      house of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell him a revolver. It
+      was a Browning. &lsquo;An arm of the greatest reliability,&rsquo; he said to him,
+      &lsquo;which never misses fire and which works very easily.&rsquo; Having pronounced
+      these words, the locksmith tried his revolver and lodged a ball in the
+      grocer&rsquo;s lung. The grocer is dead, but before he died he bought the
+      revolver. &lsquo;You are right,&rsquo; he said to the locksmith; &lsquo;it is a terrible
+      weapon.&rsquo; And then he died.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The others laughed heartily. They thought it very funny. Decidedly this
+      great Gounsovski always had a funny story. Who would not like to be his
+      friend? Annouchka had deigned to smile. Gounsovski, in recognition,
+      extended his hand to her like a mendicant. The young woman touched it with
+      the end of her fingers, as if she were placing a twenty-kopeck piece in
+      the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from it with disgust. Then the doors
+      opened for the Bohemians. Their swarthy troupe soon filled the room. Every
+      evening men and women in their native costumes came from old Derevnia,
+      where they lived all together in a sort of ancient patriarchal community,
+      with customs that had not changed for centuries; they scattered about in
+      the places of pleasure, in the fashionable restaurants, where they
+      gathered large sums, for it was a fashionable luxury to have them sing at
+      the end of suppers, and everyone showered money on them in order not to be
+      behind the others. They accompanied on guzlas, on castanets, on
+      tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful and languorous, or excitable
+      and breathless as the flight of the earliest nomads in the beginnings of
+      the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they had entered, those present made place for them, and
+      Rouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue and
+      of a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn&rsquo;t in the habit of
+      drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion to get a corner
+      of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who occupied the place at
+      Annouchka&rsquo;s right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look, Rouletabaille is asleep,&rdquo; remarked la belle Onoto.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor boy!&rdquo; said Annouchka.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, turning toward Gounsovski:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you soon going to get him out of our way? I heard some of our
+      brethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain to those
+      who care about his health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that,&rdquo; said Gounsovski, shaking his head, &ldquo;is an affair I have
+      nothing to do with. Apply to Koupriane. Your health, belle Annouchka.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and the
+      singers took everybody&rsquo;s attention, everybody excepting Prince Galitch and
+      Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another, exchanged some words on
+      the edge of all this musical uproar. As for Rouletabille, he certainly
+      must have been sleeping soundly not to have been waked by all that noise,
+      melodious as it was. It is true that he had&mdash;apparently&mdash;drunk a
+      good deal and, as everyone knows, in Russia drink lays out those who can&rsquo;t
+      stand it. When the Bohemians had sung three times Gounsovski made a sign
+      that they might go to charm other ears, and slipped into the hands of the
+      chief of the band a twenty-five rouble note. But Onoto wished to give her
+      mite, and a regular collection commenced. Each one threw roubles into the
+      plate held out by a little swarthy Bohemian girl with crow-black hair,
+      carelessly combed, falling over her forehead, her eyes and her face, in so
+      droll a fashion that one would have said the little thing was a
+      weeping-willow soaked in ink. The plate reached Prince Galitch, who
+      futilely searched his pockets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bah!&rdquo; said he, with a lordly air, &ldquo;I have no money. But here is my
+      pocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me, Katharina.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince, but
+      Annouchka said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficiently repay
+      the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty hut when I was
+      in hiding, while your famous department was deciding what to do about me,
+      my dear Gounsovski.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh,&rdquo; replied Gounsovski, &ldquo;I let you know that all you had to do was to
+      take a fine apartment in the city.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from yellow
+      turned green.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?&rdquo; asked Onoto as she
+      caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned. I had been
+      able to leave Moscow, and I hadn&rsquo;t any desire to be re-taken here and sent
+      to taste the joys of Siberia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why were you condemned to death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, she doesn&rsquo;t know anything!&rdquo; exclaimed the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord, I&rsquo;m just back from London and Paris&mdash;how should I know
+      anything! But to have been condemned to death! That must have been
+      amusing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very amusing,&rdquo; said Annouchka icily. &ldquo;And if you have a brother whom you
+      love, Onoto, think how much more amusing it must be to have him shot
+      before you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my love, forgive me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you may know and not give any pain to your Annouchka in the future, I
+      will tell you, madame, what happened to our dear friend,&rdquo; said Prince
+      Galitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We would do better to drive away such terrible memories,&rdquo; ventured
+      Gounsovski, lifting his eyelashes behind his glasses, but he bent his head
+      as Annouchka sent him a blazing glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak, Galitch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince did as she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line, whom the
+      Strike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the only means of
+      escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops when Trebassof&rsquo;s
+      soldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had become masters of the
+      city. The last resistance took place at the station. It was necessary to
+      get started. All the ways were guarded by the military. There were
+      soldiers everywhere! Vlassof said to his comrades, &lsquo;I will save you;&rsquo; and
+      his comrades saw him mount the engine with a woman. That woman was&mdash;well,
+      there she sits. Vlassof&rsquo;s fireman had been killed the evening before, on a
+      barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place. They busied themselves and
+      the train started like a shot. On that curved line, discovered at once,
+      easy to attack, under a shower of bullets, Vlassof developed a speed of
+      ninety versts an hour. He ran the indicator up to the explosion point. The
+      lady over there continued to pile coal into the furnace. The danger came
+      to be less from the military and more from an explosion at any moment. In
+      the midst of the balls Vlassof kept his usual coolness. He sped not only
+      with the firebox open but with the forced draught. It was a miracle that
+      the engine was not smashed against the curve of the embankment. But they
+      got past. Not a man was hurt. Only a woman was wounded. She got a ball in
+      the chest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; cried Annouchka.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving chest, and
+      put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began to melt in heavy
+      drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fifteen days later,&rdquo; continued the prince, &ldquo;Vlassof entered an inn at
+      Lubetszy. He didn&rsquo;t know it was full of soldiers. His face never altered.
+      They searched him. They found a revolver and papers on him. They knew whom
+      they had to do with. He was a good prize. Vlassof was taken to Moscow and
+      condemned to be shot. His sister, wounded as she was, learned of his
+      arrest and joined him. &lsquo;I do not wish,&rsquo; she said to him, &lsquo;to leave you to
+      die alone.&rsquo; She also was condemned. Before the execution the soldiers
+      offered to bandage their eyes, but both refused, saying they preferred to
+      meet death face to face. The orders were to shoot all the other condemned
+      revolutionaries first, then Vlassof, then his sister. It was in vain that
+      Vlassof asked to die last. Their comrades in execution sank to their
+      knees, bleeding from their death wounds. Vlassof embraced his sister and
+      walked to the place of death. There he addressed the soldiers: &lsquo;Now you
+      have to carry out your duty according to the oath you have taken. Fulfill
+      it honestly as I have fulfilled mine. Captain, give the order.&rsquo; The volley
+      sounded. Vlassof remained erect, his arms crossed on his breast, safe and
+      sound. Not a ball had touched him. The soldiers did not wish to fire at
+      him. He had to summon them again to fulfill their duty, and obey their
+      chief. Then they fired again, and he fell. He looked at his sister with
+      his eyes full of horrible suffering. Seeing that he lived, and wishing to
+      appear charitable, the captain, upon Annouchka&rsquo;s prayers, approached and
+      cut short his sufferings by firing a revolver into his ear. Now it was
+      Annouchka&rsquo;s turn. She knelt by the body of her brother, kissed his bloody
+      lips, rose and said, &lsquo;I am ready.&rsquo; As the guns were raised, an officer
+      came running, bearing the pardon of the Tsar. She did not wish it, and she
+      whom they had not bound when she was to die had to be restrained when she
+      learned she was to live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Prince Galitch, amid the anguished silence of all there, started to add
+      some words of comment to his sinister recital, but Annouchka interrupted:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The story is ended,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;Not a word, Prince. If I asked you to
+      tell it in all its horror, if I wished you to bring back to us the
+      atrocious moment of my brother&rsquo;s death, it is so that monsieur&rdquo; (her
+      fingers pointed to Gounsovski) &ldquo;shall know well, once for all, that if I
+      have submitted for some hours now to this promiscuous company that has
+      been imposed upon me, now that I have paid the debt by accepting this
+      abominable supper, I have nothing more to do with this purveyor of bagnios
+      and of hangman&rsquo;s ropes who is here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is mad,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;She is mad. What has come over her? What has
+      happened? Only to-day she was so, so amiable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he stuttered, desolately, with an embarrassed laugh:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, the women, the women! Now what have I done to her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you done to me, wretch? Where are Belachof, Bartowsky and
+      Strassof? And Pierre Slutch? All the comrades who swore with me to revenge
+      my brother? Where are they? On what gallows did you have them hung? What
+      mine have you buried them in? And still you follow your slavish task. And
+      my friends, my other friends, the poor comrades of my artist life, the
+      inoffensive young men who have not committed any other crime than to come
+      to see me too often when I was lively, and who believed they could talk
+      freely in my dressing-room&mdash;where are they? Why have they left me,
+      one by one? Why have they disappeared? It is you, wretch, who watched
+      them, who spied on them, making me, I haven&rsquo;t any doubt, your horrible
+      accomplice, mixing me up in your beastly work, you dog! You knew what they
+      call me. You have known it for a long time, and you may well laugh over
+      it. But I, I never knew until this evening; I never learned until this
+      evening all I owe to you. &lsquo;Stool pigeon! Stool pigeon!&rsquo; I! Horror! Ah, you
+      dog, you dog! Your mother, when you were brought into the world, your
+      mother...&rdquo; Here she hurled at him the most offensive insult that a Russian
+      can offer a man of that race.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She trembled and sobbed with rage, spat in fury, and stood up ready to go,
+      wrapped in her mantle like a great red flag. She was the statue of hate
+      and vengeance. She was horrible and terrible. She was beautiful. At the
+      final supreme insult, Gounsovski started and rose to his feet as though he
+      had received an actual blow in the face. He did not look at Annouchka, but
+      fixed his eyes on Prince Galitch. His finger pointed him out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is the man,&rdquo; he hissed, &ldquo;who has told you all these fine things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is I,&rdquo; said the Prince, tranquilly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caracho!&rdquo; barked Gounsovski, instantaneously regaining his coolness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes, but you&rsquo;ll not touch him,&rdquo; clamored the spirited girl of the
+      Black Land; &ldquo;you are not strong enough for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know that monsieur has many friends at court,&rdquo; agreed the chief of the
+      Secret Service with an ominous calm. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t wish ill to monsieur. You
+      speak, madame, of the way some of your friends have had to be sacrificed.
+      I hope that some day you will be better informed, and that you will
+      understand I saved all of them I could.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us go,&rdquo; muttered Annouchka. &ldquo;I shall spit in his face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, all I could,&rdquo; replied the other, with his habitual gesture of
+      hanging on to his glasses. &ldquo;And I shall continue to do so. I promise you
+      not to say anything more disagreeable to the prince than as regards his
+      little friend the Bohemian Katharina, whom he has treated so generously
+      just now, doubtless because Boris Mourazoff pays her too little for the
+      errands she runs each morning to the villa of Krestowsky Ostrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words the Prince and Annouchka both changed countenance. Their
+      anger rose. Annouchka turned her head as though to arrange the folds of
+      her cloak. Galitch contented himself with shrugging his shoulders
+      impatiently and murmuring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still some other abomination that you are concocting, monsieur, and that
+      we don&rsquo;t know how to reply to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After which he bowed to the supper-party, took Annouchka&rsquo;s arm and had her
+      move before him. Gounsovski bowed, almost bent in two. When he rose he saw
+      before him the three astounded and horrified figures of Thaddeus
+      Tchitchnikoff, Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs,&rdquo; he said to them, in a colorless voice which seemed not to
+      belong to him, &ldquo;the time has come for us to part. I need not say that we
+      have supped as friends and that, if you wish it to be so, we can forget
+      everything that has been said here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The three others, frightened, at once protested their discretion. He
+      added, roughly this time, &ldquo;Service of the Tsar,&rdquo; and the three stammered,
+      &ldquo;God save the Tsar!&rdquo; After which he saw them to the door. When the door
+      had closed after them, he said, &ldquo;My little Annouchka, you mustn&rsquo;t reckon
+      without me.&rdquo; He hurried toward the sofa, where Rouletabille was lying
+      forgotten, and gave him a tap on the shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, get up. Don&rsquo;t act as though you were asleep. Not an instant to
+      lose. They are going to carry through the Trebassof affair this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was already on his legs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, monsieur,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t want you to tell me that. Thanks all
+      the same, and good evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gounsovski rang. A servant appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell them they may now open all the rooms on this corridor; I&rsquo;ll not hold
+      them any longer.&rdquo; Thus had Gounsovski kept himself protected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone, the head of the Secret Service wiped his brow and drank a
+      great glass of iced water which he emptied at a draught. Then he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Koupriane will have his work cut out for him this evening; I wish him
+      good luck. As to them, whatever happens, I wash my hands of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he rubbed his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      X. A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At the door of the Krestowsky Rouletabille, who was in a hurry for a
+      conveyance, jumped into an open carriage where la belle Onoto was already
+      seated. The dancer caught him on her knees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Eliaguine, fast as you can,&rdquo; cried the reporter for all explanation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scan! Scan! (Quickly, quickly)&rdquo; repeated Onoto.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was accompanied by a vague sort of person to whom neither of them paid
+      the least attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a supper! You waked up at last, did you?&rdquo; quizzed the actress. But
+      Rouletabille, standing up behind the enormous coachman, urged the horses
+      and directed the route of the carriage. They bolted along through the
+      night at a dizzy pace. At the corner of a bridge he ordered the horses
+      stopped, thanked his companions and disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a country! What a country! Caramba!&rdquo; said the Spanish artist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage waited a few minutes, then turned back toward the city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille got down the embankment and slowly, taking infinite
+      precautions not to reveal his presence by making the least noise, made his
+      way to where the river is widest. Seen through the blackness of the night
+      the blacker mass of the Trebassof villa loomed like an enormous blot, he
+      stopped. Then he glided like a snake through the reeds, the grass, the
+      ferns. He was at the back of the villa, near the river, not far from the
+      little path where he had discovered the passage of the assassin, thanks to
+      the broken cobwebs. At that moment the moon rose and the birch-trees,
+      which just before had been like great black staffs, now became white
+      tapers which seemed to brighten that sinister solitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter wished to profit at once by the sudden luminance to learn if
+      his movements had been noticed and if the approaches to the villa on that
+      side were guarded. He picked up a small pebble and threw it some distance
+      from him along the path. At the unexpected noise three or four shadowy
+      heads were outlined suddenly in the white light of the moon, but
+      disappeared at once, lost again in the dark tufts of grass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had gained his information.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter&rsquo;s acute ear caught a gliding in his direction, a slight swish
+      of twigs; then all at once a shadow grew by his side and he felt the cold
+      of a revolver barrel on his temple. He said &ldquo;Koupriane,&rdquo; and at once a
+      hand seized his and pressed it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The night had become black again. He murmured: &ldquo;How is it you are here in
+      person?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prefect of Police whispered in his ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been informed that something will happen to-night. Natacha went to
+      Krestowsky and exchanged some words with Annouchka there. Prince Galitch
+      is involved, and it is an affair of State.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha has returned?&rdquo; inquired Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a long time ago. She ought to be in bed. In any case she is
+      pretending to be abed. The light from her chamber, in the window over the
+      garden, has been put out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s a mistake. I shouldn&rsquo;t have told her anything. She will take such
+      extra precautions that the others will be instantly warned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this night,
+      and that she must not leave the general&rsquo;s chamber.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is perfect, if she will obey you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see I have profited by all your information. I have followed your
+      instructions. The road from the Krestowsky is under surveillance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps too much. How are you planning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will let them enter. I don&rsquo;t know whom I have to deal with. I want to
+      strike a sure blow. I shall take him in the act. No more doubt after this,
+      you trust me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adieu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To bed. I have paid my debt to my host. I have the right to some repose
+      now. Good luck!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Koupriane had seized his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water. If a
+      boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and wished to
+      remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen. A great black
+      cloud covered the moon; the wind was light. The boat would have time to
+      get from one bank to the other without being discovered. Rouletabille
+      waited no longer. On all-fours he ran like a beast, rapidly and silently,
+      and rose behind the wall of the villa, where he made a turn, reached the
+      gate, aroused the dvornicks and demanded Ermolai, who opened the gate for
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Barinia?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caracho!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself by his
+      fingers to the window of Natacha&rsquo;s chamber, where he listened. He plainly
+      heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber. He fell back lightly onto
+      his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the door, then closed it so
+      lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from outside not two feet away, did
+      not hear the slightest grinding of the hinges. Inside the villa
+      Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe. He found the door of the drawing-room
+      open. The door of the sitting-room had not been closed, or else had been
+      reopened. He turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a chair and sat
+      down, with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting for the events
+      that would not delay long now. Above he heard distinctly from time to time
+      the movements of Matrena Petrovna. And this would evidently give a sense
+      of security to those who needed to have the ground-floor free this night.
+      Rouletabille imagined that the doors of the rooms on the ground-floor had
+      been left open so that it would be easier for those who would be below to
+      hear what was happening upstairs. And perhaps he was not wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly there was a vertical bar of pale light from the sitting-room that
+      overlooked the Neva. He deduced two things: first, that the window was
+      already slightly open, then that the moon was out from the clouds again.
+      The bar of light died almost instantly, but Rouletabille&rsquo;s eyes, now used
+      to the obscurity, still distinguished the open line of the window. There
+      the shade was less deep. Suddenly he felt the blood pound at his temples,
+      for the line of the open window grew larger, increased, and the shadow of
+      a man gradually rose on the balcony. Rouletabille drew his revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stood up immediately behind one of the shutters and struck a light
+      blow on the glass. Placed as he was now he could be seen no more. His
+      shadow mixed with the shadow of the shutter. At the noise on the glass
+      Natacha&rsquo;s door had opened cautiously, and she entered the sitting-room. On
+      tiptoe she went quickly to the window and opened it. The man entered. The
+      little light that by now was commencing to dawn was enough to show
+      Rouletabille that Natacha still wore the toilette in which he had seen her
+      that same evening at Krestowsky. As for the man, he tried in vain to
+      identify him; he was only a dark mass wrapped in a mantle. He leaned over
+      and kissed Natacha&rsquo;s hand. She said only one word: &ldquo;Scan!&rdquo; (Quickly).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But she had no more than said it before, under a vigorous attack, the
+      shutters and the two halves of the window were thrown wide, and silent
+      shadows jumped rapidly onto the balcony and sprang into the villa. Natacha
+      uttered a shrill cry in which Rouletabille believed still he heard more of
+      despair than terror, and the shadows threw themselves on the man; but he,
+      at the first alarm, had thrown himself upon the carpet and had slipped
+      from them between their legs. He regained the balcony and jumped from it
+      as the others turned toward him. At least, it was so that Rouletabille
+      believed he saw the mysterious struggle go in the half-light, amid most
+      impressive silence, after that frightened cry of Natacha&rsquo;s. The whole
+      affair had lasted only a few seconds, and the man was still hanging over
+      the balcony, when from the bottom of the hall a new person sprang. It was
+      Matrena Petrovna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Warned by Koupriane that something would happen that night, and foreseeing
+      that it would happen on the ground-floor where she was forbidden to be,
+      she had found nothing better to do than to make her faithful maid go
+      secretly to the bedroom floor, with orders to walk about there all night,
+      to make all think she herself was near the general, while she remained
+      below, hidden in the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna now threw herself out onto the balcony, crying in
+      Russian, &ldquo;Shoot! Shoot!&rdquo; In just that moment the man was hesitating
+      whether to risk the jump and perhaps break his neck, or descend less
+      rapidly by the gutter-pipe. A policeman fired and missed him, and the man,
+      after firing back and wounding the policeman, disappeared. It was still
+      too far from dawn for them to see clearly what happened below, where the
+      barking of Brownings alone was heard. And there could be nothing more
+      sinister than the revolver-shots unaccompanied by cries in the mists of
+      the morning. The man, before he disappeared, had had only time by a quick
+      kick to throw down one of the two ladders which had been used by the
+      police in climbing; down the other one all the police in a bunch, even to
+      the wounded one, went sliding, falling, rising, running after the shadow
+      which fled still, discharging the Browning steadily; other shadows rose
+      from the river-bank, hovering in the mist. Suddenly Koupriane&rsquo;s voice was
+      heard shouting orders, calling upon his agents to take the quarry alive or
+      dead. From the balcony Matrena Petrovna cried out also, like a savage, and
+      Rouletabille tried in vain to keep her quiet. She was delirious at the
+      thought &ldquo;The Other&rdquo; might escape yet. She fired a revolver, she also, into
+      the group, not knowing whom she might wound. Rouletabille grabbed her arm
+      and as she turned on him angrily she observed Natacha, who, leaning until
+      she almost fell over the balcony, her lips trembling with delirious
+      utterance, followed as well as she could the progress of the struggle,
+      trying to understand what happened below, under the trees, near the Neva,
+      where the tumult by now extended. Matrena Petrovna pulled her back by the
+      arms. Then she took her by the neck and threw her into the drawing-room in
+      a heap. When she had almost strangled her step-daughter, Matrena Petrovna
+      saw that the general was there. He appeared in the pale glimmerings of
+      dawn like a specter. By what miracle had Feodor Feodorovitch been able to
+      descend the stairs and reach there? How had it been brought about? She saw
+      him tremble with anger or with wretchedness under the folds of the
+      soldier&rsquo;s cape that floated about him. He demanded in a hoarse voice,
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna threw herself at his feet, made the orthodox sign of the
+      Cross, as if she wished to summon God to witness, and then, pointing to
+      Natacha, she denounced his daughter to her husband as she would have
+      pointed her out to a judge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The one, Feodor Feodorovitch, who has wished more than once to
+      assassinate you, and who this night has opened the datcha to your assassin
+      is your daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general held himself up by his two hands against the wall, and,
+      looking at Matrena and Natacha, who now were both upon the floor before
+      him like suppliants, he said to Matrena:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is you who assassinate me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me! By the living God!&rdquo; babbled Matrena Petrovna desperately. &ldquo;If I had
+      been able to keep this from you, Jesus would have been good! But I say no
+      more to crucify you. Feodor Feodorovitch, question your daughter, and if
+      what I have said is not true, kill me, kill me as a lying, evil beast. I
+      will say thank you, thank you, and I will die happier than if what I have
+      said was true. Ah, I long to be dead! Kill me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor Feodorovitch pushed her back with his stick as one would push a
+      worm in his path. Without saying anything further, she rose from her knees
+      and looked with her haggard eyes, with her crazed face, at Rouletabille,
+      who grasped her arm. If she had had her hands still free she would not
+      have hesitated a second in wreaking justice upon herself under this bitter
+      fate of alienating Feodor. And it seemed frightful to Rouletabille that he
+      should be present at one of those horrible family dramas the issue of
+      which in the wild times of Peter the Great would have sent the general to
+      the hangman either as a father or as a husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The general did not deign even to consider for any length of time
+      Matrena&rsquo;s delirium. He said to his daughter, who shook with sobs on the
+      floor, &ldquo;Rise, Natacha Feodorovna.&rdquo; And Feodor&rsquo;s daughter understood that
+      her father never would believe in her guilt. She drew herself up towards
+      him and kissed his hands like a happy slave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment repeated blows shook the veranda door. Matrena, the
+      watch-dog, anxious to die after Feodor&rsquo;s reproach, but still at her post,
+      ran toward what she believed to be a new danger. But she recognized
+      Koupriane&rsquo;s voice, which called on her to open. She let him in herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; she implored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A cry answered him. Natacha had heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who&mdash;who&mdash;who?&rdquo; questioned Matrena breathlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane went over to Feodor and grasped his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;there was a man who had sworn your ruin and who was
+      made an instrument by your enemies. We have just killed that man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I know him?&rdquo; demanded Feodor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is one of your friends, you have treated him like a son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask your daughter, General.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor turned toward Natacha, who burned Koupriane with her gaze, trying
+      to learn what this news was he brought&mdash;the truth or a ruse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know the man who wished to kill me, Natacha?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she replied to her father, in accents of perfect fury. &ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t
+      know any such man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; said Koupriane, in a firm, terribly hostile voice, &ldquo;you
+      have yourself, with your own hands, opened that window to-night; and you
+      have opened it to him many other times besides. While everyone else here
+      does his duty and watches that no person shall be able to enter at night
+      the house where sleeps General Trebassof, governor of Moscow, condemned to
+      death by the Central Revolutionary Committee now reunited at Presnia, this
+      is what you do; it is you who introduce the enemy into this place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer, Natacha; tell me, yes or no, whether you have let anybody into
+      this house by night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father, it is true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor roared like a lion:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His name!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur will tell you himself,&rdquo; said Natacha, in a voice thick with
+      terror, and she pointed to Koupriane. &ldquo;Why does he not tell you himself
+      the name of that person? He must know it, if the man is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if the man is not dead,&rdquo; replied Feodor, who visibly held onto
+      himself, &ldquo;if that man, whom you helped to enter my house this night, has
+      succeeded in escaping, as you seem to hope, will you tell us his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could not tell it, Father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I prayed you to do so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha desperately shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I order you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can kill me, Father, but I will not pronounce that name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wretch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised his stick toward her. Thus Ivan the Terrible had killed his son
+      with a blow of his boar-spear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Natacha, instead of bowing her head beneath the blow that menaced her,
+      turned toward Koupriane and threw at him in accents of triumph:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not dead. If you had succeeded in taking him, dead or alive, you
+      would already have his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane took two steps toward her, put his hand on her shoulder and
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael Nikolaievitch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael Korsakoff!&rdquo; cried the general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna, as if revolted by that suggestion, stood upright to
+      repeat:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael Korsakoff!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general could not believe his ears, and was about to protest when he
+      noticed that his daughter had turned away and was trying to flee to her
+      room. He stopped her with a terrible gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha, you are going to tell us what Michael Korsakoff came here to do
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feodor Feodorovitch, he came to poison you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Matrena who spoke now and whom nothing could have kept silent, for
+      she saw in Natacha&rsquo;s attempt at flight the most sinister confession. Like
+      a vengeful fury she told over with cries and terrible gestures what she
+      had experienced, as if once more stretched before her the hand armed with
+      the poison, the mysterious hand above the pillow of her poor invalid, her
+      dear, rigorous tyrant; she told them about the preceding night and all her
+      terrors, and from her lips, by her voluble staccato utterance that ominous
+      recital had grotesque emphasis. Finally she told all that she had done,
+      she and the little Frenchman, in order not to betray their suspicions to
+      The Other, in order to take finally in their own trap all those who for so
+      many days and nights schemed for the death of Feodor Feodorovitch. As she
+      ended she pointed out Rouletabille to Feodor and cried, &ldquo;There is the one
+      who has saved you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha, as she listened to this tragic recital, restrained herself
+      several times in order not to interrupt, and Rouletabille, who was
+      watching her closely, saw that she had to use almost superhuman efforts in
+      order to achieve that. All the horror of what seemed to be to her as well
+      as to Feodor a revelation of Michael&rsquo;s crime did not subdue her, but
+      seemed, on the contrary, to restore to her in full force all the life that
+      a few seconds earlier had fled from her. Matrena had hardly finished her
+      cry, &ldquo;There is the one who has saved you,&rdquo; before Natacha cried in her
+      turn, facing the reporter with a look full of the most frightful hate,
+      &ldquo;There is the one who has been the death of an innocent man!&rdquo; She turned
+      to her father. &ldquo;Ah, papa, let me, let me say that Michael Nikolaievitch,
+      who came here this evening, I admit, and whom, it is true, I let into the
+      house, that Michael Nikolaievitch did not come here yesterday, and that
+      the man who has tried to poison you is certainly someone else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words Rouletabille turned pale, but he did not let himself lose
+      self-control. He replied simply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, mademoiselle, it was the same man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Koupriane felt compelled to add:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anyway, we have found the proof of Michael Nikolaievitch&rsquo;s relations with
+      the revolutionaries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where have you found that?&rdquo; questioned the young girl, turning toward the
+      Chief of Police a face ravished with anguish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At Krestowsky, mademoiselle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked a long time at him as though she would penetrate to the bottom
+      of his thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What proofs?&rdquo; she implored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A correspondence which we have placed under seal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was it addressed to him? What kind of correspondence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it interests you, we will open it before you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My God! My God!&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;Where have you found this correspondence?
+      Where? Tell me where!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell you. At the villa, in his chamber. We forced the lock of his
+      bureau.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She seemed to breathe again, but her father took her brutally by the arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Natacha, you are going to tell us what that man was doing here
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In her chamber!&rdquo; cried Matrena Petrovna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha turned toward Matrena:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you believe, then? Tell me now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, what ought I to believe?&rdquo; muttered Feodor. &ldquo;You have not told me
+      yet. You did not know that man had relations with my enemies. You are
+      innocent of that, perhaps. I wish to think so. I wish it, in the name of
+      Heaven I wish it. But why did you receive him? Why? Why did you bring him
+      in here, as a robber or as a...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, papa, you know that I love Boris, that I love him with all my heart,
+      and that I would never belong to anyone but him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, then, then.&mdash;speak!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young girl had reached the crisis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Father, Father, do not question me! You, you above all, do not
+      question me now. I can say nothing! There is nothing I can tell you.
+      Excepting that I am sure&mdash;sure, you understand&mdash;that Michael
+      Nikolaievitch did not come here last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did come,&rdquo; insisted Rouletabille in a slightly troubled voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He came here with poison. He came here to poison your father, Natacha,&rdquo;
+       moaned Matrena Petrovna, who twined her hands in gestures of sincere and
+      naive tragedy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; replied the daughter of Feodor ardently, with an accent of
+      conviction which made everyone there vibrate, and particularly
+      Rouletabille, &ldquo;and I, I tell you it was not he, that it was not he, that
+      it could not possibly be he. I swear to you it was another, another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But then, this other, did you let him in as well?&rdquo; said Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes, yes. It was I. It was I. It was I who left the window and blinds
+      open. Yes, it is I who did that. But I did not wait for the other, the
+      other who came to assassinate. As to Michael Nikolaievitch, I swear to
+      you, my father, by all that is most sacred in heaven and on earth, that he
+      could not have committed the crime that you say. And now&mdash;kill me,
+      for there is nothing more I can say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The poison,&rdquo; replied Koupriane coldly, &ldquo;the poison that he poured into
+      the general&rsquo;s potion was that arsenate of soda which was on the grapes the
+      Marshal of the Court brought here. Those grapes were left by the Marshal,
+      who warned Michael Nikolaievitch and Boris Alexandrovitch to wash them.
+      The grapes disappeared. If Michael is innocent, do you accuse Boris?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha, who seemed to have suddenly lost all power for defending herself,
+      moaned, begged, railed, seemed dying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. Don&rsquo;t accuse Boris. He has nothing to do with it. Don&rsquo;t accuse
+      Michael. Don&rsquo;t accuse anyone so long as you don&rsquo;t know. But these two are
+      innocent. Believe me. Believe me. Ah, how shall I say it, how shall I
+      persuade you! I am not able to say anything to you. And you have killed
+      Michael. Ah, what have you done, what have you done!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have suppressed a man,&rdquo; said the icy voice of Koupriane, &ldquo;who was
+      merely the agent for the base deeds of Nihilism.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She succeeded in recovering a new energy that in her depths of despair
+      they would have supposed impossible. She shook her fists at Koupriane:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not true, it is not true. These are slanders, infamies! The
+      inventions of the police! Papers devised to incriminate him. There is
+      nothing at all of what you said you found at his house. It is not
+      possible. It is not true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are those papers?&rdquo; demanded the curt voice of Feodor. &ldquo;Bring them
+      here at once, Koupriane; I wish to see them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane was slightly troubled, and this did not escape Natacha, who
+      cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, let him give us them, let him bring them if he has them. But he
+      hasn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; she clamored with a savage joy. &ldquo;He has nothing. You can see,
+      papa, that he has nothing. He would already have brought them out. He has
+      nothing. I tell you he has nothing. Ah, he has nothing! He has nothing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she threw herself on the floor, weeping, sobbing, &ldquo;He has nothing, he
+      has nothing!&rdquo; She seemed to weep for joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that true?&rdquo; demanded Feodor Feodorovitch, with his most somber manner.
+      &ldquo;Is it true, Koupriane, that you have nothing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, General, that we have found nothing. Everything had already
+      been carried away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Natacha uttered a veritable torrent of glee:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has found nothing! Yet he accuses him of being allied with the
+      revolutionaries. Why? Why? Because I let him in? But I, am I a
+      revolutionary? Tell me. Have I sworn to kill papa? I? I? Ah, he doesn&rsquo;t
+      know what to say. You see for yourself, papa, he is silent. He has lied.
+      He has lied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why have you made this false statement, Koupriane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we have suspected Michael for some time, and truly, after what has
+      just happened, we cannot have any doubt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but you declared you had papers, and you have not. That is
+      abominable procedure, Koupriane,&rdquo; replied Feodor sternly. &ldquo;I have heard
+      you condemn such expedients many times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General! We are sure, you hear, we are absolutely sure that the man who
+      tried to poison you yesterday and the man to-day who is dead are one and
+      the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what reason have you for being so sure? It is necessary to tell it,&rdquo;
+       insisted the general, who trembled with distress and impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, let him tell now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask monsieur,&rdquo; said Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They all turned to Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter replied, affecting a coolness that perhaps he did not
+      entirely feel:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am able to state to you, as I already have before Monsieur the Prefect
+      of Police, that one, and only one, person has left the traces of his
+      various climbings on the wall and on the balcony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Idiot!&rdquo; interrupted Natacha, with a passionate disdain for the young man.
+      &ldquo;And that satisfies you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general roughly seized the reporter&rsquo;s wrist:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to me, monsieur. A man came here this night. That concerns only
+      me. No one has any right to be astonished excepting myself. I make it my
+      own affair, an affair between my daughter and me. But you, you have just
+      told us that you are sure that man is an assassin. Then, you see, that
+      calls for something else. Proofs are necessary, and I want the proofs at
+      once. You speak of traces; very well, we will go and examine those traces
+      together. And I wish for your sake, monsieur, that I shall be as convinced
+      by them as you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille quietly disengaged his wrist and replied with perfect calm:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, monsieur, I am no longer able to prove anything to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because the ladders of the police agents have wiped out all my proofs,
+      monsieur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So now there remains for us only your word, only your belief in yourself.
+      And if you are mistaken?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would never admit it, papa,&rdquo; cried Natacha. &ldquo;Ah, it is he who deserves
+      the fate Michael Nikolaievitch has met just now. Isn&rsquo;t it so? Don&rsquo;t you
+      know it? And that will be your eternal remorse! Isn&rsquo;t there something that
+      always keeps you from admitting that you are mistaken? You have had an
+      innocent man killed. Now, you know well enough, you know well that I would
+      not have admitted Michael Nikolaievitch here if I had believed he was
+      capable of wishing to poison my father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, not lowering his eyes under
+      Natacha&rsquo;s thunderous regard, &ldquo;I am sure of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He said it in such a tone that Natacha continued to look at him with
+      incomprehensible anguish in her eyes. Ah, the baffling of those two
+      regards, the mute scene between those two young people, one of whom wished
+      to make himself understood and the other afraid beyond all other things of
+      being thoroughly understood. Natacha murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How he looks at me! See, he is the demon; yes, yes, the little domovoi,
+      the little domovoi. But look out, poor wretch; you don&rsquo;t know what you
+      have done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned brusquely toward Koupriane:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is the body of Michael Nikolaievitch?&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I wish to see it.
+      I must see it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Feodor Feodorovitch had fallen, as though asleep, upon a chair. Matrena
+      Petrovna dared not approach him. The giant appeared hurt to the death,
+      disheartened forever. What neither bombs, nor bullets, nor poison had been
+      able to do, the single idea of his daughter&rsquo;s co-operation in the work of
+      horror plotted about him&mdash;or rather the impossibility he faced of
+      understanding Natacha&rsquo;s attitude, her mysterious conduct, the chaos of her
+      explanations, her insensate cries, her protestations of innocence, her
+      accusations, her menaces, her prayers and all her disorder, the avowed
+      fact of her share in that tragic nocturnal adventure where Michael
+      Nikolaievitch found his death, had knocked over Feodor Feodorovitch like a
+      straw. One instant he sought refuge in some vague hope that Koupriane was
+      less assured than he pretended of the orderly&rsquo;s guilt. But that, after
+      all, was only a detail of no importance in his eyes. What alone mattered
+      was the significance of Natacha&rsquo;s act, and the unhappy girl seemed not to
+      be concerned over what he would think of it. She was there to fight
+      against Koupriane, Rouletabille and Matrena Petrovna, defending her
+      Michael Nikolaievitch, while he, the father, after having failed to
+      overawe her just now, was there in a corner suffering agonizedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane walked over to him and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to me carefully, Feodor Feodorovitch. He who speaks to you is Head
+      of the Police by the will of the Tsar, and your friend by the grace of
+      God. If you do not demand before us, who are acquainted with all that has
+      happened and who know how to keep any necessary secret, if you do not
+      demand of your daughter the reason for her conduct with Michael
+      Nikolaievitch, and if she does not tell you in all sincerity, there is
+      nothing more for me to do here. My men have already been ordered away from
+      this house as unworthy to guard the most loyal subject of His Majesty; I
+      have not protested, but now I in my turn ask you to prove to me that the
+      most dangerous enemy you have had in your house is not your daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These words, which summed up the horrible situation, came as a relief for
+      Feodor. Yes, they must know. Koupriane was right. She must speak. He
+      ordered his daughter to tell everything, everything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha fixed Koupriane again with her look of hatred to the death, turned
+      from him and repeated in a firm voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have nothing to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is the accomplice of your assassins,&rdquo; growled Koupriane then, his
+      arm extended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha uttered a cry like a wounded beast and fell at her father&rsquo;s feet.
+      She gathered them within her supplicating arms. She pressed them to her
+      breasts. She sobbed from the bottom of her heart. And he, not
+      comprehending, let her lie there, distant, hostile, somber. Then she
+      moaned, distractedly, and wept bitterly, and the dramatic atmosphere in
+      which she thus suddenly enveloped Feodor made it all sound like those
+      cries of an earlier time when the all-powerful, punishing father appeared
+      in the women&rsquo;s apartments to punish the culpable ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father! Dear Father! Look at me! Look at me! Have pity on me, and do
+      not require me to speak when I must be silent forever. And believe me! Do
+      not believe these men! Do not believe Matrena Petrovna. And am I not your
+      daughter? Your very own daughter! Your Natacha Feodorovna! I cannot make
+      things dear to you. No, no, by the Holy Virgin Mother of Jesus I cannot
+      explain. By the holy ikons, it is because I must not. By my mother, whom I
+      have not known and whose place you have taken, oh, my father, ask me
+      nothing more! Ask me nothing more! But take me in your arms as you did
+      when I was little; embrace me, dear father; love me. I never have had such
+      need to be loved. Love me! I am miserable. Unfortunate me, who cannot even
+      kill myself before your eyes to prove my innocence and my love. Papa,
+      Papa! What will your arms be for in the days left you to live, if you no
+      longer wish to press me to your heart? Papa! Papa!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid her head on Feodor&rsquo;s knees. Her hair had come down and hung about
+      her in a magnificent disorderly mass of black.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look in my eyes! Look in my eyes! See how they love you, Batouchka!
+      Batouchka! My dear Batouchka!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Feodor wept. His great tears fell upon Natacha&rsquo;s tears. He raised her
+      head and demanded simply in a broken voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can tell me nothing now? But when will you tell me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha lifted her eyes to his, then her look went past him toward heaven,
+      and from her lips came just one word, in a sob:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna, Koupriane and the reporter shuddered before the high and
+      terrible thing that happened then. Feodor had taken his daughter&rsquo;s face
+      between his hands. He looked long at those eyes raised toward heaven, the
+      mouth which had just uttered the word &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; then, slowly, his rude lips
+      went to the tortured, quivering lips of the girl. He held her close. She
+      raised her head wildly, triumphantly, and cried, with arm extended toward
+      Matrena Petrovna:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He believes me! He believes me! And you would have believed me also if
+      you had been my real mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her head fell back and she dropped unconscious to the floor. Feodor fell
+      to his knees, tending her, deploring her, motioning the others out of the
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go away! All of you, go! All! You, too, Matrena Petrovna. Go away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They disappeared, terrified by his savage gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the little datcha across the river at Krestowsky there was a body.
+      Secret Service agents guarded it while they waited for their chief.
+      Michael Nikolaievitch had come there to die, and the police had reached
+      him just at his last breath. They were behind him as, with the
+      death-rattle in his throat, he pulled himself into his chamber and fell in
+      a heap. Katharina the Bohemian was there. She bent her quick-witted,
+      puzzled head over his death agony. The police swarmed everywhere,
+      ransacking, forcing locks, pulling drawers from the bureau and tables,
+      emptying the cupboards. Their search took in everything, even to ripping
+      the mattresses, and not respecting the rooms of Boris Mourazoff, who was
+      away this night. They searched thoroughly, but they found absolutely
+      nothing they were looking for in Michael&rsquo;s rooms. But they accumulated a
+      multitude of publications that belonged to Boris: Western books, essays on
+      political economy, a history of the French Revolution, and verses that a
+      man ought to hang for. They put them all under seal. During the search
+      Michael died in Katharina&rsquo;s arms. She had held him close, after opening
+      his clothes over the chest, doubtless to make his last breaths easier. The
+      unfortunate officer had received a bullet at the back of the head just
+      after he had plunged into the Neva from the rear of the Trebassof datcha
+      and started to swim across. It was a miracle that he had managed to keep
+      going. Doubtless he hoped to die in peace if only he could reach his own
+      house. He apparently had believed he could manage that once he had broken
+      through his human bloodhounds. He did not know he was recognized and his
+      place of retreat therefore known.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now the police had gone from cellar to garret. Koupriane came from the
+      Trebassof villa and joined them, Rouletabille followed him. The reporter
+      could not stand the sight of that body, that still had a lingering warmth,
+      of the great open eyes that seemed to stare at him, reproaching him for
+      this violent death. He turned away in distaste, and perhaps a little in
+      fright. Koupriane caught the movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Regrets?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;A death always must be regretted. None the
+      less, he was a criminal. But I&rsquo;m sincerely sorry he died before he had
+      been driven to confess, even though we are sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Being in the pay of the Nihilists, you mean? That is still your opinion?&rdquo;
+       asked Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know that nothing has been found here in his rooms. The only
+      compromising papers that have been found belong to Boris Mourazoff.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you say that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane questioned his men further. They replied categorically. No,
+      nothing had been found that directly incriminated anybody; and suddenly
+      Rouletabille noted that the conversation of the police and their chief had
+      grown more animated. Koupriane had become angry and was violently
+      reproaching them. They excused themselves with vivid gesture and rapid
+      speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane started away. Rouletabille followed him. What had happened?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he came up behind Koupriane, he asked the question. In a few curt
+      words, still hurrying on, Koupriane told the reporter he had just learned
+      that the police had left the little Bohemian Katharina alone for a moment
+      with the expiring officer. Katharina acted as housekeeper for Michael and
+      Boris. She knew the secrets of them both. The first thing any novice
+      should have known was to keep a constant eye upon her, and now no one knew
+      where she was. She must be searched for and found at once, for she had
+      opened Michael&rsquo;s shirt, and therein probably lay the reason that no papers
+      were found on the corpse when the police searched it. The absence of
+      papers, of a portfolio, was not natural.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chase commenced in the rosy dawn of the isles. Already blood-like
+      tints were on the horizon. Some of the police cried that they had the
+      trail. They ran under the trees, because it was almost certain she had
+      taken the narrow path leading to the bridge that joins Krestowsky to
+      Kameny-Ostrow. Some indications discovered by the police who swarmed to
+      right and left of the path confirmed this hypothesis. And no carriage in
+      sight! They all ran on, Koupriane among the first. Rouletabille kept at
+      his heels, but he did not pass him. Suddenly there were cries and calls
+      among the police. One pointed out something below gliding upon the sloping
+      descent. It was little Katharina. She flew like the wind, but in a
+      distracted course. She had reached Kameny-Ostrow on the west bank. &ldquo;Oh,
+      for a carriage, a horse!&rdquo; clamored Koupriane, who had left his turn-out at
+      Eliaguine. &ldquo;The proof is there. It is the final proof of everything that
+      is escaping us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dawn was enough advanced now to show the ground clearly. Katharina was
+      easily discernible as she reached the Eliaguine bridge. There she was in
+      Eliaguine-Ostrow. What was she doing there? Was she going to the Trebassof
+      villa? What would she have to say to them? No, she swerved to the right.
+      The police raced behind her. She was still far ahead, and seemed untiring.
+      Then she disappeared among the trees, in the thicket, keeping still to the
+      right. Koupriane gave a cry of joy. Going that way she must be taken. He
+      gave some breathless orders for the island to be barred. She could not
+      escape now! She could not escape! But where was she going? Koupriane knew
+      that island better than anybody. He took a short cut to reach the other
+      side, toward which Katharina seemed to be heading, and all at once he
+      nearly fell over the girl, who gave a squawk of surprise and rushed away,
+      seeming all arms and legs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop, or I fire!&rdquo; cried Koupriane, and he drew his revolver. But a hand
+      grabbed it from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that!&rdquo; said Rouletabille, as he threw the revolver far from them.
+      Koupriane swore at him and resumed the chase. His fury multiplied his
+      strength, his agility; he almost reached Katharina, who was almost out of
+      breath, but Rouletabille threw himself into the Chief&rsquo;s arms and they
+      rolled together upon the grass. When Koupriane rose, it was to see
+      Katharina mounting in mad haste the stairs that led to the Barque, the
+      floating restaurant of the Strielka. Cursing Rouletabille, but believing
+      his prey easily captured now, the Chief in his turn hurried to the Barque,
+      into which Katharina had disappeared. He reached the bottom of the stairs.
+      On the top step, about to descend from the festive place, the form of
+      Prince Galitch appeared. Koupriane received the sight like a blow stopping
+      him short in his ascent. Galitch had an exultant air which Koupriane did
+      not mistake. Evidently he had arrived too late. He felt the certainty of
+      it in profound discouragement. And this appearance of the prince on the
+      Barque explained convincingly enough the reason for Katharina&rsquo;s flight
+      here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If the Bohemian had filched the papers or the portfolio from the dead, it
+      was the prince now who had them in his pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane, as he saw the prince about to pass him, trembled. The prince
+      saluted him and ironically amused himself by inquiring:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, how do you do, my dear Monsieur Koupriane. Your Excellency
+      has risen in good time this morning, it seems to me. Or else it is I who
+      start for bed too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; said Koupriane, &ldquo;my men are in pursuit of a little Bohemian
+      named Katharina, well known in the restaurants where she sings. We have
+      seen her go into the Barque. Have you met her by any chance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord, Monsieur Koupriane, I am not the concierge of the Barque, and
+      I have not noticed anything at all, and nobody. Besides, I am naturally a
+      little sleepy. Pardon me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince, it is not possible that you have not seen Katharina.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Monsieur the Prefect of Police, if I had seen her I would not tell
+      you about it, since you are pursuing her. Do you take me for one of your
+      bloodhounds? They say you have them in all classes, but I insist that I
+      haven&rsquo;t enlisted yet. You have made a mistake, Monsieur Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince saluted again. But Koupriane still stood in his way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince, consider that this matter is very serious. Michael Nikolaievitch,
+      General Trebassof&rsquo;s orderly, is dead, and this little girl has stolen his
+      papers from his body. All persons who have spoken with Katharina will be
+      under suspicion. This is an affair of State, monsieur, which may reach
+      very far. Can you swear to me that you have not seen, that you have not
+      spoken to Katharina?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince looked at Koupriane so insolently that the Prefect turned pale
+      with rage. Ah, if he were able&mdash;if he only dared!&mdash;but such men
+      as this were beyond him. Galitch walked past him without a word of answer,
+      and ordered the schwitzar to call him a carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Koupriane, &ldquo;I will make my report to the Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Galitch turned. He was as pale as Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that case, monsieur,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t forget to add that I am His
+      Majesty&rsquo;s most humble servant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage drew up. The prince stepped in. Koupriane watched him roll
+      away, raging at heart and with his fists doubled. Just then his men came
+      up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go. Search,&rdquo; he said roughly, pointing into the Barque.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They scattered through the establishment, entering all the rooms. Cries of
+      irritation and of protest arose. Those lingering after the latest of late
+      suppers were not pleased at this invasion of the police. Everybody had to
+      rise while the police looked under the tables, the benches, the long
+      table-cloths. They went into the pantries and down into the hold. No sign
+      of Katharina. Suddenly Koupriane, who leaned against a netting and looked
+      vaguely out upon the horizon, waiting for the outcome of the search, got a
+      start. Yonder, far away on the other side of the river, between a little
+      wood and the Staria Derevnia, a light boat drew to the shore, and a little
+      black spot jumped from it like a flea. Koupriane recognized the little
+      black spot as Katharina. She was safe. Now he could not reach her. It would
+      be useless to search the maze of the Bohemian quarter, where her
+      country-people lived in full control, with customs and privileges that had
+      never been infringed. The entire Bohemian population of the capital would
+      have risen against him. It was Prince Galitch who had made him fail. One
+      of his men came to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No luck,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;We have not found Katharina, but she has been here
+      nevertheless. She met Prince Galitch for just a minute, and gave him
+      something, then went over the other side into a canoe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; and the Prefect shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;I was sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He felt more and more, exasperated. He went down along the river edge and
+      the first person he saw was Rouletabille, who waited for him without any
+      impatience, seated philosophically on a bench.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was looking for you,&rdquo; cried the Prefect. &ldquo;We have failed. By your
+      fault! If you had not thrown yourself into my arms&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did it on purpose,&rdquo; declared the reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! What is that you say? You did it on purpose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane choked with rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Excellency,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, taking him by the arm, &ldquo;calm
+      yourself. They are watching us. Come along and have a cup of tea at
+      Cubat&rsquo;s place. Easy now, as though we were out for a walk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you explain to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, Your Excellency. Remember that I have promised you General
+      Trebassof&rsquo;s life in exchange for your prisoner&rsquo;s. Very well; by throwing
+      myself in your arms and keeping you from reaching Katharina, I saved the
+      general&rsquo;s life. It is very simple.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you laughing at me? Do you think you can mock me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the prefect saw quickly that Rouletabille was not fooling and had no
+      mockery in his manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; he insisted, &ldquo;since you speak seriously, I certainly wish to
+      understand&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is useless,&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;It is very necessary that you should
+      not understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But at least...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, I can&rsquo;t tell you anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When, then, will you tell me something to explain your unbelievable
+      conduct?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille stopped in his tracks and declared solemnly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Koupriane, recall what Natacha Feodorovna as she raised her
+      lovely eyes to heaven, replied to her father, when he, also, wished to
+      understand: &lsquo;Never.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XI. THE POISON CONTINUES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At ten o&rsquo;clock that morning Rouletabille went to the Trebassof villa,
+      which had its guard of secret agents again, a double guard, because
+      Koupriane was sure the Nihilists would not delay in avenging Michael&rsquo;s
+      death. Rouletabille was met by Ermolai, who would not allow him to enter.
+      The faithful servant uttered some explanation in Russian, which the young
+      man did not understand, or, rather, Rouletabille understood perfectly from
+      his manner that henceforth the door of the villa was closed to him. In
+      vain he insisted on seeing the general, Matrena Petrovna and Mademoiselle
+      Natacha. Ermolai made no reply but &ldquo;Niet, niet, niet.&rdquo; The reporter turned
+      away without having seen anyone, and walked away deeply depressed. He went
+      afoot clear into the city, a long promenade, during which his brain surged
+      with the darkest forebodings. As he passed by the Department of Police he
+      resolved to see Koupriane again. He went in, gave his name, and was
+      ushered at once to the Chief of Police, whom he found bent over a long
+      report that he was reading through with noticeable agitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gounsovski has sent me this,&rdquo; he said in a rough voice, pointing to the
+      report. &ldquo;Gounsovski, &lsquo;to do me a service,&rsquo; desires me to know that he is
+      fully aware of all that happened at the Trebassof datcha last night. He
+      warns me that the revolutionaries have decided to get through with the
+      general at once, and that two of them have been given the mission to enter
+      the datcha in any way possible. They will have bombs upon their bodies and
+      will blow the bombs and themselves up together as soon as they are beside
+      the general. Who are the two victims designated for this horrible
+      vengeance, and who have light-heartedly accepted such a death for
+      themselves as well as for the general? That is what we don&rsquo;t know. That is
+      what we would have known, perhaps, if you had not prevented me from
+      seizing the papers that Prince Galitch has now,&rdquo; Koupriane finished,
+      turning hostilely toward Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille had turned pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t regret what happened to the papers,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is I who tell you
+      not to. But what you say doesn&rsquo;t surprise me. They must believe that
+      Natacha has betrayed them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, then you admit at last that she really is their accomplice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t said that and I don&rsquo;t admit it. But I know what I mean, and
+      you, you can&rsquo;t. Only, know this one thing, that at the present moment I am
+      the only person able to save you in this horrible situation. To do that I
+      must see Natacha at once. Make her understand this, while I wait at my
+      hotel for word. I&rsquo;ll not leave it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille saluted Koupriane and went out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two days passed, during which Rouletabille did not receive any word from
+      either Natacha or Koupriane, and tried in vain to see them. He made a trip
+      for a few hours to Finland, going as far as Pergalovo, an isolated town
+      said to be frequented by the revolutionaries, then returned, much
+      disturbed, to his hotel, after having written a last letter to Natacha
+      imploring an interview. The minutes passed very slowly for him in the
+      hotel&rsquo;s vestibule, where he had seemed to have taken up a definite
+      residence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Installed on a bench, he seemed to have become part of the hotel staff,
+      and more than one traveler took him for an interpreter. Others thought he
+      was an agent of the Secret Police appointed to study the faces of those
+      arriving and departing. What was he waiting for, then? Was it for
+      Annouchka to return for a luncheon or dinner in that place that she
+      sometimes frequented? And did he at the same time keep watch upon
+      Annouchka&rsquo;s apartments just across the way? If that was so, he could only
+      bewail his luck, for Annouchka did not appear either at her apartments or
+      the hotel, or at the Krestowsky establishment, which had been obliged to
+      suppress her performance. Rouletabille naturally thought, in the latter
+      connection, that some vengeance by Gounsovski lay back of this, since the
+      head of the Secret Service could hardly forget the way he had been
+      treated. The reporter could see already the poor singer, in spite of all
+      her safeguards and the favor of the Imperial family, on the road to the
+      Siberian steppes or the dungeons of Schlusselbourg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My, what a country!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But his thoughts soon quit Annouchka and returned to the object of his
+      main preoccupation. He waited for only one thing, and for that as soon as
+      possible&mdash;to have a private interview with Natacha. He had written
+      her ten letters in two days, but they all remained unanswered. It was an
+      answer that he waited for so patiently in the vestibule of the hotel&mdash;so
+      patiently, but so nervously, so feverishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the postman entered, poor Rouletabille&rsquo;s heart beat rapidly. On that
+      answer he waited for depended the formidable part he meant to play before
+      quitting Russia. He had accomplished nothing up to now, unless he could
+      play his part in this later development.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the letter did not come. The postman left, and the schwitzar, after
+      examining all the mail, made him a negative sign. Ah, the servants who
+      entered, and the errand-boys, how he looked at them! But they never came
+      for him. Finally, at six o&rsquo;clock in the evening of the second day, a man
+      in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan collar, came in and handed the
+      concierge a letter for Joseph Rouletabille. The reporter jumped up. Before
+      the man was out the door he had torn open the letter and read it. The
+      letter was not from Natacha. It was from Gounsovski. This is what it said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, if it will not inconvenience you, I
+      wish you would come and dine with me to-day. I will look for you within
+      two hours. Madame Gounsovski will be pleased to make your acquaintance.
+      Believe me your devoted Gounsovski.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille considered, and decided:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go. He ought to have wind of what is being plotted, and as for me,
+      I don&rsquo;t know where Annouchka has gone. I have more to learn from him than
+      he has from me. Besides, as Athanase Georgevitch said, one may regret not
+      accepting the Head of the Okrana&rsquo;s pleasant invitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From six o&rsquo;clock to seven he still waited vainly for Natacha&rsquo;s response.
+      At seven o&rsquo;clock, he decided to dress for the dinner. Just as he rose, a
+      messenger arrived. There was still another letter for Joseph Rouletabille.
+      This time it was from Natacha, who wrote him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;General Trebassof and my step-mother will be very happy to have you come
+      to dinner to-day. As for myself, monsieur, you will pardon me the order
+      which has closed to you for a number of days a dwelling where you have
+      rendered services which I shall not forget all my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The letter ended with a vague polite formula. With the letter in his hand
+      the reporter sat in thought. He seemed to be asking himself, &ldquo;Is it fish
+      or flesh?&rdquo; Was it a letter of thanks or of menace? That was what he could
+      not decide. Well, he would soon know, for he had decided to accept that
+      invitation. Anything that brought him and Natacha into communication at
+      the moment was a thing of capital importance to him. Half-an-hour later he
+      gave the address of the villa to an isvotchick, and soon he stepped out
+      before the gate where Ermolai seemed to be waiting for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was so occupied by thought of the conversation he was going
+      to have with Natacha that he had completely forgotten the excellent
+      Monsieur Gounsovski and his invitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter found Koupriane&rsquo;s agents making a close-linked chain around
+      the grounds and each watching the other. Matrena had not wished any agent
+      to be in house. He showed Koupriane&rsquo;s pass and entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai ushered Rouletabille in with shining face. He seemed glad to have
+      him there again. He bowed low before him and uttered many compliments, of
+      which the reporter did not understand a word. Rouletabille passed on,
+      entered the garden and saw Matrena Petrovna there walking with her
+      step-daughter. They seemed on the best of terms with each other. The
+      grounds wore an air of tranquillity and the residents seemed to have
+      totally forgotten the somber tragedy of the other night. Matrena and
+      Natacha came smilingly up to the young man, who inquired after the
+      general. They both turned and pointed out Feodor Feodorovitch, who waved
+      to him from the height of the kiosk, where it seemed the table had been
+      spread. They were going to dine out of doors this fine night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything goes very well, very well indeed, dear little domovoi,&rdquo; said
+      Matrena. &ldquo;How glad it is to see you and thank you. If you only knew how I
+      suffered in your absence, I who know how unjust my daughter was to you.
+      But dear Natacha knows now what she owes you. She doesn&rsquo;t doubt your word
+      now, nor your clear intelligence, little angel. Michael Nikolaievitch was
+      a monster and he was punished as he deserved. You know the police have
+      proof now that he was one of the Central Revolutionary Committee&rsquo;s most
+      dangerous agents. And he an officer! Whom can we trust now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, have you seen him since?&rdquo; inquired
+      Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boris called to see us to-day, to say good-by, but we did not receive
+      him, under the orders of the police. Natacha has written to tell him of
+      Koupriane&rsquo;s orders. We have received letters from him; he is quitting St.
+      Petersburg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, after the frightful bloody scene in his little house, when he
+      learned how Michael Nikolaievitch had found his death, and after he
+      himself had undergone a severe grilling from the police, and when he
+      learned the police had sacked his library and gone through his papers, he
+      resigned, and has resolved to live from now on out in the country, without
+      seeing anyone, like the philosopher and poet he is. So far as I am
+      concerned, I think he is doing absolutely right. When a young man is a
+      poet, it is useless to live like a soldier. Someone has said that, I don&rsquo;t
+      know the name now, and when one has ideas that may upset other people,
+      surely they ought to live in solitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked at Natacha, who was as pale as her white gown, and who
+      added no word to her mother&rsquo;s outburst. They had drawn near the kiosk.
+      Rouletabille saluted the general, who called to him to come up and, when
+      the young man extended his hand, he drew him abruptly nearer and embraced
+      him. To show Rouletabille how active he was getting again, Feodor
+      Feodorovitch marched up and down the kiosk with only the aid of a stick.
+      He went and came with a sort of wild, furious gayety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They haven&rsquo;t got me yet, the dogs. They haven&rsquo;t got me! And one (he was
+      thinking of Michael) who saw me every day was here just for that. Very
+      well. I ask you where he is now. And yet here I am! An attack! I&rsquo;m always
+      here! But with a good eye; and I begin to have a good leg. We shall see.
+      Why, I recollect how, when I was at Tiflis, there was an insurrection in
+      the Caucasus. We fought. Several times I could feel the swish of bullets
+      past my hair. My comrades fell around me like flies. But nothing happened
+      to me, not a thing. And here now! They will not get me, they will not get
+      me. You know how they plan now to come to me, as living bombs. Yes, they
+      have decided on that. I can&rsquo;t press a friend&rsquo;s hand any more without the
+      fear of seeing him explode. What do you think of that? But they won&rsquo;t get
+      me. Come, drink my health. A small glass of vodka for an appetizer. You
+      see, young man, we are going to have zakouskis here. What a marvelous
+      panorama! You can see everything from here. If the enemy comes,&rdquo; he added
+      with a singular loud laugh, &ldquo;we can&rsquo;t fail to detect him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Certainly the kiosk did rise high above the garden and was completely
+      detached, no wall being near. They had a clear view. No branches of trees
+      hung over the roof and no tree hid the view. The rustic table of rough
+      wood was covered with a short cloth and was spread with zakouskis. It was
+      a meal under the open sky, a seat and a glass in the clear azure. The
+      evening could not have been softer and clearer. And, as the general felt
+      so gay, the repast would have promised to be most agreeable, if
+      Rouletabille had not noticed that Matrena Petrovna and Natacha were uneasy
+      and downcast. The reporter soon saw, too, that all the general&rsquo;s joviality
+      was a little excessive. Anyone would have said that Feodor Feodorovitch
+      spoke to distract himself, to keep himself from thinking. There was
+      sufficient excuse for him after the outrageous drama of the other night.
+      Rouletabille noticed further that the general never looked at his
+      daughter, even when he spoke to her. There was too formidable a mystery
+      lying between them for restraint not to increase day by day. Rouletabille
+      involuntarily shook his head, saddened by all he saw. His movement was
+      surprised by Matrena Petrovna, who pressed his hand in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, now,&rdquo; said the general, &ldquo;well, now my children, where is the
+      vodka?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Among all the bottles which graced the table the general looked in vain
+      for his flask of vodka. How in the world could he dine if he did not
+      prepare for that important act by the rapid absorption of two or three
+      little glasses of white wine, between two or three sandwiches of caviare!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ermolai must have left it in the wine-chest,&rdquo; said Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wine-closet was in the dining-room. She rose to go there, but Natacha
+      hurried before her down the little flight of steps, crying, &ldquo;Stay there,
+      mamma. I will go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you bother, either. I know where it is,&rdquo; cried Rouletabille, and
+      hurried after Natacha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not stop. The two young people arrived in the dining-room at the
+      same time. They were there alone, as Rouletabille had foreseen. He stopped
+      Natacha and planted himself in front of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, mademoiselle, did you not answer me earlier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I don&rsquo;t wish to have any conversation with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that was so, you would not have come here, where you were sure I would
+      follow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hesitated, with an emotion that would have been incomprehensible to
+      all others perhaps, but was not to Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, I wished to say this to you: Don&rsquo;t write to me any more. Don&rsquo;t
+      speak to me. Don&rsquo;t see me. Go away from here, monsieur; go away. They will
+      have your life. And if you have found out anything, forget it. Ah, on the
+      head of your mother, forget it, or you are lost. That is what I wished to
+      tell you. And now, you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She grasped his hand in a quick sympathetic movement that she seemed
+      instantly to regret.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You go away,&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille still held his place before her. She turned from him; she did
+      not wish to hear anything further.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you are watched closer than ever. Who will take
+      Michael Nikolaievitch&rsquo;s place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madman, be silent! Hush!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He said this with such simple bravery that tears sprang to her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear man! Poor man! Dear brave man!&rdquo; She did not know what to say. Her
+      emotion checked all utterance. But it was necessary for her to enable him
+      to understand that there was nothing he could do to help her in her sad
+      straits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. If they knew what you have just said, what you have proposed now, you
+      would be dead to-morrow. Don&rsquo;t let them suspect. And above all, don&rsquo;t try
+      to see me anywhere. Go back to papa at once. We have been here too long.
+      What if they learn of it?&mdash;and they learn everything! They are
+      everywhere, and have ears everywhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle, just one word more, a single word. Do you doubt now that
+      Michael tried to poison your father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I wish to believe it. I wish to. I wish to believe it for your sake,
+      my poor boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille desired something besides &ldquo;I wish to believe it for your
+      sake, my poor boy.&rdquo; He was far from being satisfied. She saw him turn
+      pale. She tried to reassure him while her trembling hands raised the lid
+      of the wine-chest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes me think you are right is that I have decided myself that only
+      one and the same person, as you said, climbed to the window of the little
+      balcony. Yes, no one can doubt that, and you have reasoned well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he persisted still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet, in spite of that, you are not entirely sure, since you say, &lsquo;I
+      wish to believe it, my poor boy.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Rouletabille, someone might have tried to poison my father, and
+      not have come by way of the window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, that is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing is impossible to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she turned her head away again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, why,&rdquo; she said, with her voice entirely changed and quite
+      indifferent, as if she wished to be merely &lsquo;the daughter of the house&rsquo; in
+      conversation with the young man, &ldquo;the vodka is not in the wine chest,
+      after all. What has Ermolai done with it, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She ran over to the buffet and found the flask.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, here it is. Papa shan&rsquo;t be without it, after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was already into the garden again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that is the only doubt she has,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;I can reassure
+      her. No one could come, excepting by the window. And only one came that
+      way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young girl had rejoined him, bringing the flask. They crossed the
+      garden together to the general, who was whiling away the time as he waited
+      for his vodka explaining to Matrena Petrovna the nature of &ldquo;the
+      constitution.&rdquo; He had spilt a box of matches on the table and arranged
+      them carefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; he cried to Natacha and Rouletabille. &ldquo;Come here and I will
+      explain to you as well what this Constitution amounts to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young people leaned over his demonstration curiously and all eyes in
+      the kiosk were intent on the matches.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see that match,&rdquo; said Feodor Feodorovitch. &ldquo;It is the Emperor. And
+      this other match is the Empress; this one is the Tsarevitch; and that one
+      is the Grand-duke Alexander; and these are the other granddukes. Now, here
+      are the ministers and there the principal governors, and then the
+      generals; these here are the bishops.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whole box of matches was used up, and each match was in its place, as
+      is the way in an empire where proper etiquette prevails in government and
+      the social order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; continued the general, &ldquo;do you want to know, Matrena Petrovna,
+      what a constitution is? There! That is the Constitution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The general, with a swoop of his hand, mixed all the matches. Rouletabille
+      laughed, but the good Matrena said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand, Feodor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Find the Emperor now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Matrena understood. She laughed heartily, she laughed violently, and
+      Natacha laughed also. Delighted with his success, Feodor Feodorovitch took
+      up one of the little glasses that Natacha had filled with the vodka she
+      brought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen, my children,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;We are going to commence the zakouskis.
+      Koupriane ought to have been here before this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saying this, holding still the little glass in his hand, he felt in his
+      pocket with the other for his watch, and drew out a magnificent large
+      watch whose ticking was easily heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, the watch has come back from the repairer,&rdquo; Rouletabille remarked
+      smilingly to Matrena Petrovna. &ldquo;It looks like a splendid one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has very fine works,&rdquo; said the general. &ldquo;It was bequeathed to me by my
+      grandfather. It marks the seconds, and the phases of the moon, and sounds
+      the hours and half-hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille bent over the watch, admiring it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You expect M. Koupriane for dinner?&rdquo; inquired the young man, still
+      examining the watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but since he is so late, we&rsquo;ll not delay any longer. Your healths,
+      my children,&rdquo; said the general as Rouletabille handed him back the watch
+      and he put it in his pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your health, Feodor Feodorovitch,&rdquo; replied Matrena Petrovna, with her
+      usual tenderness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille and Natacha only touched their lips to the vodka, but Feodor
+      Feodorovitch and Matrena drank theirs in the Russian fashion, head back
+      and all at a draught, draining it to the bottom and flinging the contents
+      to the back of the throat. They had no more than performed this gesture
+      when the general uttered an oath and tried to expel what he had drained so
+      heartily. Matrena Petrovna spat violently also, looking with horror at her
+      husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? What has someone put in the vodka?&rdquo; cried Feodor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has someone put in the vodka?&rdquo; repeated Matrena Petrovna in a thick
+      voice, her eyes almost starting from her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two young people threw themselves upon the unfortunates. Feodor&rsquo;s face
+      had an expression of atrocious suffering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are poisoned,&rdquo; cried the general, in the midst of his chokings. &ldquo;I am
+      burning inside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost mad, Natacha took her father&rsquo;s head in her hands. She cried to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vomit, papa; vomit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must find an emetic,&rdquo; cried Rouletabille, holding on to the general,
+      who had almost slipped from his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna, whose gagging noises were violent, hurried down the
+      steps of the kiosk, crossed the garden as though wild-fire were behind
+      her, and bounded into the veranda. During this time the general succeeded
+      in easing himself, thanks to Rouletabille, who had thrust a spoon to the
+      root of his tongue. Natacha could do nothing but cry, &ldquo;My God, my God, my
+      God!&rdquo; Feodor held onto his stomach, still crying, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m burning, I&rsquo;m
+      burning!&rdquo; The scene was frightfully tragic and funny at the same time. To
+      add to the burlesque, the general&rsquo;s watch in his pocket struck eight
+      o&rsquo;clock. Feodor Feodorovitch stood up in a final supreme effort. &ldquo;Oh, it
+      is horrible!&rdquo; Matrena Petrovna showed a red, almost violet face as she
+      came back; she distorted it, she choked, her mouth twitched, but she
+      brought something, a little packet that she waved, and from which,
+      trembling frightenedly, she shook a powder into the first two empty
+      glasses, which were on her side of the table and were those she and the
+      general had drained. She still had strength to fill them with water, while
+      Rouletabille was almost overcome by the general, whom he still had in his
+      arms, and Natacha concerned herself with nothing but her father, leaning
+      over him as though to follow the progress of the terrible poison, to read
+      in his eyes if it was to be life or death. &ldquo;Ipecac,&rdquo; cried Matrena
+      Petrovna, and she made the general drink it. She did not drink until after
+      him. The heroic woman must have exerted superhuman force to go herself to
+      find the saving antidote in her medicine-chest, even while the agony
+      pervaded her vitals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some minutes later both could be considered saved. The servants, Ermolai
+      at their head, were clustered about. Most of them had been at the lodge
+      and they had not, it appeared, heard the beginning of the affair, the
+      cries of Natacha and Rouletabille. Koupriane arrived just then. It was he
+      who worked with Natacha in getting the two to bed. Then he directed one of
+      his agents to go for the nearest doctors they could find.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This done, the Prefect of Police went toward the kiosk where he had left
+      Rouletabille. But Rouletabille was not to be found, and the flask of vodka
+      and the glasses from which they had drunk were gone also. Ermolai was
+      near-by, and he inquired of the servant for the young Frenchman. Ermolai
+      replied that he had just gone away, carrying the flask and the glasses.
+      Koupriane swore. He shook Ermolai and even started to give him a blow with
+      the fist for permitting such a thing to happen before his eyes without
+      making a protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai, who had his own haughtiness, dodged Koupriane&rsquo;s fist and replied
+      that he had wished to prevent the young Frenchman, but the reporter had
+      shown him a police-paper on which Koupriane himself had declared in
+      advance that the young Frenchman was to do anything he pleased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XII. PERE ALEXIS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane jumped into his carriage and hurried toward St. Petersburg. On
+      the way he spoke to three agents who only he knew were posted in the
+      neighborhood of Eliaguine. They told him the route Rouletabille had taken.
+      The reporter had certainly returned into the city. He hurried toward
+      Troitski Bridge. There, at the corner of the Naberjnaia, Koupriane saw the
+      reporter in a hired conveyance. Rouletabille was pounding his coachman in
+      the back, Russian fashion, to make him go faster, and was calling with all
+      his strength one of the few words he had had time to learn, &ldquo;Naleva,
+      naleva&rdquo; (to the left). The driver was forced to understand at last, for
+      there was no other way to turn than to the left. If he had turned to the
+      right (naprava) he would have driven into the river. The conveyance
+      clattered over the pointed flints of a neighborhood that led to a little
+      street, Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, at the corner of the Katharine canal. This
+      &ldquo;alley of the pharmacists&rdquo; as a matter of fact contained no pharmacists,
+      but there was a curious sign of a herbarium, where Rouletabille made the
+      driver stop. As the carriage rolled under the arch Rouletabille recognized
+      Koupriane. He did not wait, but cried to him, &ldquo;Ah, here you are. All
+      right; follow me.&rdquo; He still had the flask and the glasses in his hands.
+      Koupriane couldn&rsquo;t help noticing how strange he looked. He passed through
+      a court with him, and into a squalid shop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What,&rdquo; said Koupriane, &ldquo;do you know Pere Alexis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were in the midst of a curious litter. Clusters of dried herbs hung
+      from the ceiling, and all among them were clumps of old boots, shriveled
+      skins, battered pans, scrap-iron, sheep-skins, useless touloupes, and on
+      the floor musty old clothes, moth-eaten furs, and sheep-skin coats that
+      even a moujik of the swamps would not have deigned to wear. Here and there
+      were old teeth, ragged finery, dilapidated hats, and jars of strange herbs
+      ranged upon some rickety shelving. Between the set of scales on the
+      counter and a heap of little blocks of wood used for figuring the accounts
+      of this singular business were ungilded ikons, oxidized silver crosses,
+      and Byzantine pictures representing scenes from the Old and New
+      Testaments. Jars of alcohol with what seemed to be the skeletons of frogs
+      swimming in them filled what space was left. In a corner of this large,
+      murky room, under the vault of mossed stone, a small altar stood and the
+      light burned in a hanging glass of oil before the holy images. A man was
+      praying before the altar. He wore the costume of old Russia, the caftan of
+      green cloth, buttoned at the shoulder and tucked in at the waist by a
+      narrow belt. He had a bushy beard and his hair fell to his shoulders. When
+      he had finished his prayer he rose, perceived Rouletabille and came over
+      to take his hand. He spoke French to the reporter:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here you are again, lad. Do you bring poison again to-day? This
+      will end by being found out, and the police...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just then he discerned Koupriane&rsquo;s form in the shadow, drew close to make
+      out who it was, and fell to his knees as he saw who it was. Rouletabille
+      tried to raise him, but he insisted on prostrating himself. He was sure
+      the Prefect of Police had come to his house to hang him. Finally he was
+      reassured by Rouletabille&rsquo;s positive assertions and the great chief&rsquo;s
+      robust laugh. The Prefect wished to know how the young man came to be
+      acquainted with the &ldquo;alchemist&rdquo; of the police. Rouletabille told him in a
+      few words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maitre Alexis, in his youth, went to France afoot, to study pharmacy,
+      because of his enthusiasm for chemistry. But he always remained
+      countrified, very much a Russian peasant, a semi-Oriental bear, and did
+      not achieve his degree. He took some certificates, but the examinations
+      were too much for him. For fifty years he lived miserably as a
+      pharmacist&rsquo;s assistant in the back of a disreputable shop in the Notre
+      Dame quarter. The proprietor of the place was implicated in the famous
+      affair of the gold ingots, which started Rouletabille&rsquo;s reputation, and
+      was arrested along with his assistant, Alexis. It was Rouletabille who
+      proved, clear as day, that poor Alexis was innocent, and that he had never
+      been cognizant of his master&rsquo;s evil ways, being absorbed in the depths of
+      his laboratory in trying to work out a naive alchemy which fascinated him,
+      though the world of chemistry had passed it by centuries ago. At the trial
+      Alexis was acquitted, but found himself in the street. He shed what tears
+      remained in his body upon the neck of the reporter, assuring him of
+      paradise if he got him back to his own country, because he desired only
+      the one thing more of life, that he might see his birth-land before he
+      died. Rouletabille advanced the necessary means and sent him to St.
+      Petersburg. There he was picked up at the end of two days by the police,
+      in a petty gambling-game, and thrown into prison, where he promptly had a
+      chance to show his talents. He cured some of his companions in misery, and
+      even some of the guards. A guard who had an injured leg, whose healing he
+      had despaired of, was cured by Alexis. Then there was found to be no
+      actual charge against him. They set him free and, moreover, they
+      interested themselves in him. They found meager employment for him in the
+      Stchoukine-dvor, an immense popular bazaar. He accumulated a few roubles
+      and installed himself on his own account at the back of a court in the
+      Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he gradually piled up a heap of old odds and
+      ends that no one wanted even in the Stchoukine-dvor. But he was happy,
+      because behind his shop he had installed a little laboratory where he
+      continued for his pleasure his experiments in alchemy and his study of
+      plants. He still proposed to write a book that he had already spoken of in
+      France to Rouletabille, to prove the truth of &ldquo;Empiric Treatment of
+      Medicinal Herbs, the Science of Alchemy, and the Ancient Experiments in
+      Sorcery.&rdquo; Between times he continued to cure anyone who applied to him,
+      and the police in particular. The police guards protected him and used
+      him. He had splendid plasters for them after &ldquo;the scandal,&rdquo; as they called
+      the October riots. So when the doctors of the quarter tried to prosecute
+      him for illegal practice, a deputation of police-guards went to Koupriane,
+      who took the responsibility and discontinued proceedings against him. They
+      regarded him as under protection of the saints, and Alexis soon came to be
+      regarded himself as something of a holy man. He never failed every
+      Christmas and Easter to send his finest images to Rouletabille, wishing
+      him all prosperity and saying that if ever he came to St. Petersburg he
+      should be happy to receive him at Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he was
+      established in honest labor. Pere Alexis, like all the true saints, was a
+      modest man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Alexis had recovered a little from his emotion Rouletabille said to
+      him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pere Alexis, I do bring you poison again, but you have nothing to fear,
+      for His Excellency the Chief of Police is with me. Here is what we want
+      you to do. You must tell us what poison these four glasses have held, and
+      what poison is still in this flask and this little phial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is that little phial?&rdquo; demanded Koupriane, as he saw Rouletabille
+      pull a small, stoppered bottle out of his pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter replied, &ldquo;I have put into this bottle the vodka that was
+      poured into Natacha&rsquo;s glass and mine and that we barely touched.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Someone has tried to poison you!&rdquo; exclaimed Pere Alexis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not me,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, in bored fashion. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t think about
+      that. Simply do what I tell you. Then analyze these two napkins, as well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he drew from his coat two soiled napkins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Koupriane, &ldquo;you have thought of everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are the napkins the general and his wife used.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I understand that,&rdquo; said the Chief of Police.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, Alexis, do you understand?&rdquo; asked the reporter. &ldquo;When can we
+      have the result of your analysis?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In an hour, at the latest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said Koupriane. &ldquo;Now I need not tell you to hold your tongue.
+      I am going to leave one of my men here. You will write us a note that you
+      will seal, and he will bring it to head-quarters. Sure you understand? In
+      an hour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In an hour, Excellency.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They went out, and Alexis followed them, bowing to the floor. Koupriane
+      had Rouletabille get into his carriage. The young man did as he was told.
+      One would have said he did not know where he was or what he did. He made
+      no reply to the chief&rsquo;s questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This Pere Alexander,&rdquo; resumed Koupriane, &ldquo;is a character, really quite a
+      figure. And a bit of a schemer, I should say. He has seen how Father John
+      of Cronstadt succeeded, and he says to himself, &lsquo;Since the sailors had
+      their Father John of Cronstadt, why shouldn&rsquo;t the police-guard have their
+      Father Alexis of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Rouletabille did not reply at all, and Koupriane wound up by demanding
+      what was the matter with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The matter is,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, unable longer to conceal his
+      anguish, &ldquo;that the poison continues.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does that astonish you?&rdquo; returned Koupriane. &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked at him and shook his head. His lips trembled as he
+      said, &ldquo;I know what you think. It is abominable. But the thing I have done
+      certainly is more abominable still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you done, then, Monsieur Rouletabille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I have caused the death of an innocent man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long as you aren&rsquo;t sure of it, you would better not fret about it, my
+      dear friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is enough that the doubt has arisen,&rdquo; said the reporter, &ldquo;almost to
+      kill me;&rdquo; and he heaved so gloomy a sigh that the excellent Monsieur
+      Koupriane felt pity for the lad. He tapped him on the knee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, young man, you ought to know one thing by this time&mdash;&lsquo;you
+      can&rsquo;t make omelettes without breaking eggs,&rsquo; as they say, I think, in
+      Paris.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille turned away from him with horror in his heart. If there
+      should be another, someone besides Michael! If it was another hand than
+      his that appeared to Matrena and him in the mysterious night! If Michael
+      Nikolaievitch had been innocent! Well, he would kill himself, that was
+      all. And those horrible words that he had exchanged with Natacha rose in
+      his memory, singing in his ears as though they would deafen him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you doubt still?&rdquo; he had asked her, &ldquo;that Michael tried to poison your
+      father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Natacha had replied, &ldquo;I wish to believe it! I wish to believe it, for
+      your sake, my poor boy.&rdquo; And then he recalled her other words, still more
+      frightful now! &ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t someone have tried to poison my father and not
+      have come by the window?&rdquo; He had faced such a hypothesis with assurance
+      then&mdash;but now, now that the poison continued, continued within the
+      house, where he believed himself so fully aware of all people and things&mdash;continued
+      now that Michael Nikolaievitch was dead&mdash;ah, where did it come from,
+      this poison?&mdash;and what was it? Pere Alexis would hurry his analysis
+      if he had any regard for poor Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For Rouletabille to doubt, and in an affair where already there was one
+      man dead through his agency, was torment worse than death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they arrived at police-headquarters, Rouletabille jumped from
+      Koupriane&rsquo;s carriage and without saying a word hailed an empty isvotchick
+      that was passing. He had himself driven back to Pere Alexis. His doubt
+      mastered his will; he could not bear to wait away. Under the arch of
+      Aptiekarski-Pereoulok he saw once more the man Koupriane had placed there
+      with the order to bring him Alexis&rsquo;s message. The man looked at him in
+      astonishment. Rouletabille crossed the court and entered the dingy old
+      room once more. Pere Alexis was not there, naturally, engaged as he was in
+      his laboratory. But a person whom he did not recognize at first sight
+      attracted the reporter&rsquo;s attention. In the half-light of the shop a
+      melancholy shadow leaned over the ikons on the counter. It was only when
+      he straightened up, with a deep sigh, and a little light, deflected and
+      yellow from passing through window-panes that had known no touch of
+      cleaning since they were placed there, fell faintly on the face, that
+      Rouletabille ascertained he was face to face with Boris Mourazoff. It was
+      indeed he, the erstwhile brilliant officer whose elegance and charm the
+      reporter had admired as he saw him at beautiful Natacha&rsquo;s feet in the
+      datcha at Eliaguine. Now, no more in uniform, he had thrown over his bowed
+      shoulders a wretched coat, whose sleeves swayed listlessly at his sides,
+      in accord with his mood of languid desperation, a felt hat with the rim
+      turned down hid a little the misery in his face in these few days, these
+      not-many hours, how he was changed! But, even as he was, he still
+      concerned Rouletabille. What was he doing there? Was he not going to go
+      away, perhaps? He had picked up an ikon from the counter and carried it
+      over to the window to examine its oxidized silver, giving such close
+      attention to it that the reporter hoped he might reach the door of the
+      laboratory without being noticed. He already had his hand on the knob of
+      that door, which was behind the counter, when he heard his name called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is you, Monsieur Rouletabille,&rdquo; said the low, sad voice of Boris.
+      &ldquo;What has brought you here, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, unless I&rsquo;m mistaken? I certainly
+      didn&rsquo;t expect to find you here in Pere Alexis&rsquo;s place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not, Monsieur Rouletabille? One can find anything here in Pere
+      Alexis&rsquo;s stock. See; here are two old ikons in wood, carved with
+      sculptures, which came direct from Athos, and can&rsquo;t be equaled, I assure
+      you, either at Gastini-Dvor nor even at Stchoukine-Dvor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, that is possible,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, impatiently. &ldquo;Are you an
+      amateur of such things?&rdquo; he added, in order to say something.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, like anybody else. But I was going to tell you, Monsieur
+      Rouletabille, I have resigned my commission. I have resolved to retire
+      from the world; I am going on a long voyage.&rdquo; (Rouletabille thought: &lsquo;Why
+      not have gone at once?&rsquo;) &ldquo;And before going, I have come here to supply
+      myself with some little gifts to send those of my friends I particularly
+      care for, although now, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille, I don&rsquo;t care much
+      for anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look desolate enough, monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Boris sighed like a child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could it be otherwise?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I loved and believed myself
+      beloved. But it proved to be&mdash;nothing, alas!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sometimes one only imagines things,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, keeping his hand
+      on the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; said the other, growing more and more melancholy. &ldquo;So a man
+      suffers. He is his own tormentor; he himself makes the wheel on which,
+      like his own executioner, he binds himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not necessary, monsieur; it is not necessary,&rdquo; counseled the
+      reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; implored Boris in a voice that showed tears were not far away.
+      &ldquo;You are still a child, but still you can see things. Do you believe
+      Natacha loves me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it, Monsieur Boris; I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it, too. But I don&rsquo;t know what to think now. She has let me
+      go, without trying to detain me, without a word of hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where are you going like that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am returning to the Orel country, where I first saw her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is good, very good, Monsieur Boris. At least there you are sure to
+      see her again. She goes there every year with her parents for a few weeks.
+      It is a detail you haven&rsquo;t overlooked, doubtless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I haven&rsquo;t. I will tell you that that prospect decided my place
+      of retreat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God gives me nothing, but He opens His treasures, and each takes what he
+      can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; and Mademoiselle Natacha, does she know it is to Orel you have
+      decided to retire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no reason for concealing it from her, Monsieur Rouletabille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far so good. You needn&rsquo;t feel so desolate, my dear Monsieur Boris. All
+      is not lost. I will say even that I see a future for you full of hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, if you are able to say that truthfully, I am happy indeed to have met
+      you. I will never forget this rope you have flung me when all the waters
+      seemed closing over my head. &lsquo;What do you advise, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I advise you to go to Orel, monsieur, and as quickly as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well. You must have reasons for saying that. I obey you, monsieur,
+      and go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Boris started towards the entrance-arch, Rouletabille slipped into the
+      laboratory. Old Alexis was bent over his retorts. A wretched lamp barely
+      lighted his obscure work. He turned at the noise the reporter made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!-you, lad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nothing so quick. Still, I have already analyzed the two napkins, you
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes? The stains? Tell me, for the love of God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my boy, it is arsenate of soda again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille, stricken to the heart, uttered a low cry and everything
+      seemed to dance around him. Pere Alexis in the midst of all the strange
+      laboratory instruments seemed Satan himself, and he repulsed the kindly
+      arms stretched forth to sustain him; in the gloom, where danced here and
+      there the little blue flames from the crucibles, lively as flickering
+      tongues, he believed he saw Michael Nikolaievitch&rsquo;s ghost come to cry,
+      &ldquo;The arsenate of soda continues, and I am dead.&rdquo; He fell against the door,
+      which swung open, and he rolled as far as the counter, and struck his face
+      against it. The shock, that might well have been fatal, brought him out of
+      his intense nightmare and made him instantly himself again. He rose,
+      jumped over the heap of boots and fol-de-rols, and leaped to the court.
+      There Boris grabbed him by his coat. Rouletabille turned, furious:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want? You haven&rsquo;t started for the Orel yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, I am going, but I will be very grateful if you will take these
+      things yourself to&mdash;to Natacha.&rdquo; He showed him, still with despairing
+      mien, the two ikons from Mount Athos, and Rouletabille took them from him,
+      thrust them in his pocket, and hurried on, crying, &ldquo;I understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside, Rouletabille tried to get hold of himself, to recover his
+      coolness a little. Was it possible that he had made a mortal error? Alas,
+      alas, how could he doubt it now! The arsenate of soda continued. He made,
+      a superhuman effort to ward off the horror of that, even momentarily&mdash;the
+      death of innocent Michael Nikolaievitch&mdash;and to think of nothing
+      except the immediate consequences, which must be carefully considered if
+      he wished to avoid some new catastrophe. Ah, the assassin was not
+      discouraged. And that time, what a piece of work he had tried! What a
+      hecatomb if he had succeeded! The general, Matrena Petrovna, Natacha and
+      Rouletabille himself (who almost regretted, so far as he was concerned,
+      that it had not succeeded)&mdash;and Koupriane! Koupriane, who should have
+      been there for luncheon. What a bag for the Nihilists! That was it, that
+      was it. Rouletabille understood now why they had not hesitated to poison
+      everybody at once: Koupriane was among them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Michael Nikolaievitch would have been avenged!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The attempt had failed this time, but what might they not expect now! From
+      the moment he believed Michael Nikolaievitch no longer guilty, as he had
+      imagined, Rouletabille fell into a bottomless abyss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Where should he go? After a few moments he made the circuit of the
+      Rotunda, which serves as the market for this quarter and is the finest
+      ornament of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok. He made the circuit without knowing it,
+      without stopping for anything, without seeing or understanding anything.
+      As a broken-winded horse makes its way in the treadmill, so he walked
+      around with the thought that he also was lost in a treadmill that led him
+      nowhere. Rouletabille was no longer Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIII. THE LIVING BOMBS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At random&mdash;because now he could only act at random&mdash;he returned
+      to the datcha. Great disorder reigned there. The guard had been doubled.
+      The general&rsquo;s friends, summoned by Trebassof, surrounded the two poisoned
+      sufferers and filled the house with their bustling devotion and their
+      protestations of affection. However, an insignificant doctor from the
+      common quarter of the Vasili-Ostrow, brought by the police, reassured
+      everybody. The police had not found the general&rsquo;s household physician at
+      home, but promised the immediate arrival of two specialists, whom they had
+      found instead. In the meantime they had picked up on the way this little
+      doctor, who was gay and talkative as a magpie. He had enough to do looking
+      after Matrena Petrovna, who had been so sick that her husband, Feodor
+      Feodorovitch, still trembled, &ldquo;for the first time in his life,&rdquo; as the
+      excellent Ivan Petrovitch said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter was astonished at not finding Natacha either in Matrena&rsquo;s
+      apartment or Feodor&rsquo;s. He asked Matrena where her step-daughter was.
+      Matrena turned a frightened face toward him. When they were alone, she
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We do not know where she is. Almost as soon as you left she disappeared,
+      and no one has seen her since. The general has asked for her several
+      times. I have had to tell him Koupriane took her with him to learn the
+      details from her of what happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is not with Koupriane,&rdquo; said Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is she? This disappearance is more than strange at the moment we
+      were dying, when her father&mdash;O God! Leave me, my child; I am
+      stifling; I am stifling.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille called the temporary doctor and withdrew from the chamber. He
+      had come with the idea of inspecting the house room by room, corner by
+      corner, to make sure whether or not any possibility of entrance existed
+      that he had not noticed before, an entrance would-be poisoners were
+      continuing to use. But now a new fact confronted him and overshadowed
+      everything: the disappearance of Natacha. How he lamented his ignorance of
+      the Russian language&mdash;and not one of Koupriane&rsquo;s men knew French. He
+      might draw something out of Ermolai.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai said he had seen Natacha just outside the gate for a moment,
+      looking up and down the road. Then he had been called to the general, and
+      so knew nothing further.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That was all the reporter could gather from the gestures rather than the
+      words of the old servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An additional difficulty now was that twilight drew on, and it was
+      impossible for the reporter to discern Natacha&rsquo;s foot-prints. Was it true
+      that the young girl had fled at such a moment, immediately after the
+      poisoning, before she knew whether her father and mother were entirely out
+      of danger? If Natacha were innocent, as Rouletabille still wished to
+      believe, such an attitude was simply incomprehensible. And the girl could
+      not but be aware she would increase Koupriane&rsquo;s suspicions. The reporter
+      had a vital reason for seeing her immediately, a vital reason for all
+      concerned, above all in this moment when the Nihilists were culminating
+      their plans, a vital reason for her and for him, equally menaced with
+      death, to talk with her and to renew the propositions he had made a few
+      minutes before the poisoning and which she had not wished to hear him talk
+      about, in fearful pity for him or in defiance of him. Where was Natacha?
+      He thought maybe she was trying to rejoin Annouchka, and there were
+      reasons for that, both if she were innocent and if she were guilty. But
+      where was Annouchka? Who could say! Gounsovski perhaps. Rouletabille
+      jumped into an isvo, returning from the Point empty, and gave Gounsovski&rsquo;s
+      address. He deigned then to recall that he had been invited that same day
+      to dine with the Gounsovskis. They would no longer be expecting him. He
+      blamed himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They received him, but they had long since finished dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski were playing a game of draughts under the
+      lamp. Rouletabille as he entered the drawing-room recognized the shining,
+      fattish bald head of the terrible man. Gounsovski came to him, bowing,
+      obsequious, his fat hands held out. He was presented to Madame Gounsovski,
+      who was besprinkled with jewels over her black silk gown. She had a muddy
+      skin and magnificent eyes. She also was tentatively effusive. &ldquo;We waited
+      for you, monsieur,&rdquo; she said, smirking timidly, with the careful charm of
+      a woman a little along in years who relies still on infantine graces. As
+      the recreant young man offered his apologies, &ldquo;Oh, we know you are much
+      occupied, Monsieur Rouletabille. My husband said that to me only a moment
+      ago. But he knew you would come finally. In the end one always accepts my
+      husband&rsquo;s invitation.&rdquo; She said this with a fat smile of importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille turned cold at this last phrase. He felt actual fear in the
+      presence of these two figures, so atrociously commonplace, in their
+      horrible, decent little drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you have had rather a bad dinner already, through that dreadful
+      affair at General Trebassof&rsquo;s. Come into the dining-room.&rdquo; &ldquo;Ah, so someone
+      has told you?&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;No, no, thanks; I don&rsquo;t need anything
+      more. You know what has happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you had come to dinner, perhaps nothing would have happened at all,
+      you know,&rdquo; said Gounsovski tranquilly, seating himself again on the
+      cushions and considering his game of draughts through his glasses.
+      &ldquo;Anyway, congratulations to Koupriane for being away from there through
+      his fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Gounsovski there was only Koupriane! The life or death of Trebassof
+      did not occupy his mind. Only the acts and movements of the Prefect of
+      Police had power to move him. He ordered a waiting-maid who glided into
+      the apartment without making more noise than a shadow to bring a small
+      stand loaded with zakouskis and bottles of champagne close to the
+      game-table, and he moved one of his pawns, saying, &ldquo;You will permit me?
+      This move is mine. I don&rsquo;t wish to lose it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille ventured to lay his hand on the oily, hairy fist which
+      extended from a dubious cuff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is this you tell me? How could you have foreseen it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was easy to foresee everything,&rdquo; replied Gounsovski, offering cigars,
+      &ldquo;to foresee everything from the moment Matiew&rsquo;s place was filled by
+      Priemkof.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; questioned Rouletabille, recalling with some inquietude the sight
+      of the whipping in the guards&rsquo; chapel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, this Priemkof, between ourselves,&rdquo; (and he bent close to the
+      reporter&rsquo;s ear) &ldquo;is no better, as a police-guard for Koupriane than Matiew
+      himself. Very dangerous. So when I learned that he took Matiew&rsquo;s place at
+      the datcha des Iles, I thought there was sure to be some unfortunate
+      happening. But it was no affair of mine, was it? Koupriane would have been
+      able to say to me, &lsquo;Mind your own business.&rsquo; I had gone far enough in
+      warning him of the &lsquo;living bombs.&rsquo; They had been denounced to us by the
+      same agency that enabled us to seize the two living bombs (women, if you
+      please!) who were going to the military tribunal at Cronstadt after the
+      rebellion in the fleet. Let him recall that. That ought to make him
+      reflect. I am a brave man. I know he speaks ill of me; but I don&rsquo;t wish
+      him any harm. The interests of the Empire before all else between us! I
+      wouldn&rsquo;t talk to you as I do if I didn&rsquo;t know the Tsar honors you with his
+      favor. Then I invited you to dinner. As one dines one talks. But you did
+      not come. And, while you were dining down there and while Priemkof was on
+      guard at the datcha, that annoying affair Madame Gounsovski has spoken
+      about happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski&rsquo;s
+      insistences. He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand of the
+      Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering them, for this
+      detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which had been dark enough
+      for hours and was now deepened by what the other had just said. He
+      comprehended only one thing, that a man named Priemkof, whom he had never
+      heard spoken of, as determined as Matiew to destroy the general, had been
+      entrusted by Koupriane with the guard of the datcha des Iles. It was
+      necessary to warn Koupriane instantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur
+      Gounsovski? Why wait to speak about it to me? It is unimaginable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, pardon,&rdquo; said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his goggles; &ldquo;it
+      is not the same thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, it is not the same thing,&rdquo; seconded the lady with the black silk,
+      brilliant jewels and flabby chin. &ldquo;We speak here to a friend in the course
+      of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the police. We never denounce
+      anybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must tell you. But sit down now,&rdquo; Gounsovski still insisted, lighting
+      his cigar. &ldquo;Be reasonable. They have just tried to poison him, so they
+      will take time to breathe before they try something else. Then, too, this
+      poison makes me think they may have given up the idea of living bombs.
+      Then, after all, what is to be will be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; approved the ample dame. &ldquo;The police never have been able to
+      prevent what was bound to happen. But, speaking of this Priemkof, it
+      remains between us, eh? Between just us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, we must tell you now,&rdquo; Gounsovski slipped in softly, &ldquo;that it will
+      be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the information from
+      me. Because then, you understand, he would not believe you; or, rather, he
+      would not believe me. That is why we take these precautions of dining and
+      smoking a cigar. We speak of one thing and another and you do as you
+      please with what we say. But, to make them useful, it is absolutely
+      necessary, I repeat, to be silent about their source.&rdquo; (As he said that,
+      Gounsovski gave Rouletabille a piercing glance through his goggles, the
+      first time Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes. He never would
+      have suspected him capable of such fire.) &ldquo;Priemkof,&rdquo; continued Gounsovski
+      in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously, &ldquo;was employed here in
+      my home and we separated on bad terms, through his fault, it is necessary
+      to say. Then he got into Koupriane&rsquo;s confidence by saying the worst he
+      could of us, my dear little monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what could he say?&mdash;servants&rsquo; stories! my dear little monsieur,&rdquo;
+       repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent black eyes
+      furiously. &ldquo;Stories that have been treated as they deserved at Court,
+      certainly. Madame Daquin, the wife of His Majesty&rsquo;s head-cook, whom you
+      certainly know, and the nephew of the second Maid of Honor to the Empress,
+      who stands very well with his aunt, have told us so; servants&rsquo; stories
+      that might have ruined us but have not produced any effect on His Majesty,
+      for whom we would give our lives, Christ knows. Well, you understand now
+      that if you were to say to Koupriane, &lsquo;Gaspadine Gounsovski has spoken ill
+      to me of Priemkof,&rsquo; he would not care to hear a word further. Still,
+      Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs, that is all I can tell
+      you; at least, he was before the affair of the poisoning. That poisoning
+      is certainly very astonishing, between us. It does not appear to have come
+      from without, whereas the living bombs will have to come from without. And
+      Priemkof is mixed up in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; approved Madame Gounsovski again, &ldquo;he is committed to it.
+      There have been stories about him, too. Other people as well as he can
+      tell tales; it isn&rsquo;t hard to do. He has got to make some showing now if he
+      is to keep in with Annouchka&rsquo;s clique.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Koupriane, our dear Koupriane,&rdquo; interrupted Gounsovski, slightly troubled
+      at hearing his wife pronounce Annouchka&rsquo;s name, &ldquo;Koupriane ought to be
+      able to understand that this time Priemkof must bring things off, or he is
+      definitely ruined.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Priemkof knows it well enough,&rdquo; replied Madame as she re-filled the
+      glasses, &ldquo;but Koupriane doesn&rsquo;t know it; that is all we can tell you. Is
+      it enough? All the rest is mere gossip.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It certainly was enough for Rouletabille; he had had enough of it! This
+      idle gossip and these living bombs! These pinchbecks, these whispering
+      tale-tellers in their bourgeois, countrified setting; these
+      politico-police combinations whose grotesque side was always uppermost;
+      while the terrible side, the Siberian aspect, prisons, black holes,
+      hangings, disappearances, exiles and deaths and martyrdoms remained so
+      jealously hidden that no one ever spoke of them! All that weight of
+      horror, between a good cigar and &ldquo;a little glass of anisette, monsieur, if
+      you won&rsquo;t take champagne.&rdquo; Still, he had to drink before he left, touch
+      glasses in a health, promise to come again, whenever he wished&mdash;the
+      house was open to him. Rouletabille knew it was open to anybody&mdash;anybody
+      who had a tale to tell, something that would send some other person to
+      prison or to death and oblivion. No guard at the entrance to check a
+      visitor&mdash;men entered Gounsovski&rsquo;s house as the house of a friend, and
+      he was always ready to do you a service, certainly!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He accompanied the reporter to the stairs. Rouletabille was just about to
+      risk speaking of Annouchka to him, in order to approach the subject of
+      Natacha, when Gounsovski said suddenly, with a singular smile:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way, do you still believe in Natacha Trebassof?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall believe in her until my death,&rdquo; Rouletabille thrust back; &ldquo;but I
+      admit to you that at this moment I don&rsquo;t know where she has gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and come to tell me to-morrow if you will
+      believe in her always,&rdquo; replied Gounsovski, confidentially, with a horrid
+      sort of laugh that made the reporter hurry down the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now here was Priemkof to look after! Priemkof after Matiew! It seemed
+      to the young man that he had to contend against all the revolutionaries
+      not only, but all the Russian police as well&mdash;and Gounsovski himself,
+      and Koupriane! Everybody, everybody! But most urgent was Priemkof and his
+      living bombs. What a strange and almost incomprehensible and harassing
+      adventure this was between Nihilism and the Russian police. Koupriane and
+      Gounsovski both employed a man they knew to be a revolutionary and the
+      friend of revolutionaries. Nihilism, on its side, considered this man of
+      the police force as one of its own agents. In his turn, this man, in order
+      to maintain his perilous equilibrium, had to do work for both the police
+      and the revolutionaries, and accept whatever either gave him to do as it
+      came, because it was necessary he should give them assurances of his
+      fidelity. Only imbeciles, like Gapone, let themselves be hanged or ended
+      by being executed, like Azef, because of their awkward slips. But a
+      Priemkof, playing both branches of the police, had a good chance of living
+      a long time, and a Gounsovski would die tranquilly in his bed with all the
+      solaces of religion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, the young hearts hot with sincerity, sheathed with dynamite, are
+      mysteriously moved in the atrocious darkness of Holy Russia, and they do
+      not know where they will be sent, and it is all one to them, because all
+      they ask is to die in a mad spiritual delirium of hate and love&mdash;living
+      bombs!*
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * In the trial after the revolt at Cronstadt two young women
+     were charged with wearing bombs as false bosoms.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      At the corner of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok Rouletabille came in the way of
+      Koupriane, who was leaving for Pere Alexis&rsquo;s place and, seeing the
+      reporter, stopped his carriage and called that he was going immediately to
+      the datcha.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have seen Pere Alexis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Koupriane. &ldquo;And this time I have it on you. What I told you,
+      what I foresaw, has happened. But have you any news of the sufferers?
+      Apropos, rather a curious thing has happened. I met Kister on the Nevsky
+      just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The physician?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, one of Trebassof&rsquo;s physicians whom I had sent an inspector to his
+      house to fetch to the datcha, as well as his usual associate, Doctor
+      Litchkof. Well, neither Litchkof nor he had been summoned. They didn&rsquo;t
+      know anything had happened at the datcha. They had not seen my inspector.
+      I hope he has met some other doctor on the way and, in view of the
+      urgency, has taken him to the datcha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what has happened,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, who had turned very
+      pale. &ldquo;Still, it is strange these gentlemen had not been notified, because
+      at the datcha the Trebassofs were told that the general&rsquo;s usual doctors
+      were not at home and so the police had summoned two others who would
+      arrive at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane jumped up in the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Kister and Litchkof had not left their houses. Kister, who had just
+      met Litchkof, said so. What does this mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you tell me,&rdquo; asked Rouletabille, ready now for the thunder-clap that
+      his question invited, &ldquo;the name of the inspector you ordered to bring
+      them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Priemkof, a man with my entire confidence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane&rsquo;s carriage rushed toward the Isles. Late evening had come. Alone
+      on the deserted route the horses seemed headed for the stars; the carriage
+      behind seemed no drag upon them. The coachman bent above them, arms out,
+      as though he would spring into the ether. Ah, the beautiful night, the
+      lovely, peaceful night beside the Neva, marred by the wild gallop of these
+      maddened horses!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Priemkof! Priemkof! One of Gounsovski&rsquo;s men! I should have suspected
+      him,&rdquo; railed Koupriane after Rouletabille&rsquo;s explanations. &ldquo;But now, shall
+      we arrive in time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They stood up in the carriage, urging the coachman, exciting the horses:
+      &ldquo;Scan! Scan! Faster, douriak!&rdquo; Could they arrive before the &ldquo;living
+      bombs&rdquo;? Could they hear them before they arrived? Ah, there was Eliaguine!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They rushed from the one bank to the other as though there were no bridges
+      in their insensate course. And their ears were strained for the explosion,
+      for the abomination now to come, preparing slyly in the night so
+      hypocritically soft under the cold glance of the stars. Suddenly, &ldquo;Stop,
+      stop!&rdquo; Rouletabille cried to the coachman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you mad!&rdquo; shouted Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are mad if we arrive like madmen. That would make the catastrophe
+      sure. There is still a chance. If we wish not to lose it, then we must
+      arrive easily and calmly, like friends who know the general is out of
+      danger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our only chance is to arrive before the bogus doctors. Either they aren&rsquo;t
+      there, or it already is all over. Priemkof must have been surprised at the
+      affair of the poisoning, but he has seized the opportunity; fortunately he
+      couldn&rsquo;t find his accomplices immediately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the datcha, anyway. In the name of heaven, tell your driver to
+      stop the horses here. If the &lsquo;doctors&rsquo; are already there it is we who
+      shall have killed the general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane moderated his excitement and that of his driver and horses, and
+      the carriage stopped noiselessly, not far from the datcha. Ermolai came
+      toward them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Priemkof?&rdquo; faltered Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has gone again, Excellency.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How&mdash;gone again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but he has brought the doctors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane crushed Rouletabille&rsquo;s wrist. The doctors were there!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame Trebassof is better,&rdquo; continued Ermolai, who understood nothing of
+      their emotion. &ldquo;The general is going to meet them and take them to his
+      wife himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are they?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are waiting in the drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Excellency, keep cool, keep cool, and all is not lost,&rdquo; implored the
+      reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille and Koupriane slipped carefully into the garden. Ermolai
+      followed them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There?&rdquo; inquired Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; Ermolai replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the corner where they were, and looking through the veranda, they
+      could see the &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; as they waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were seated in chairs side by side, in a corner of the drawing-room
+      from where they could see every-thing in the room and a part of the
+      garden, which they faced, and could hear everything. A window of the
+      first-floor was open above their heads, so that they could hear any noise
+      from there. They could not be surprised from any side, and they held every
+      door in view. They were talking softly and tranquilly, looking straight
+      before them. They appeared young. One had a pleasant face, pale but
+      smiling, with rather long, curly hair; the other was more angular, with
+      haughty bearing and grave face, an eagle nose and glasses. Both wore long
+      black coats buttoned over their calm chests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane and the reporter, followed by Ermolai, advanced with the
+      greatest precaution across the lawn. Screened by the wooden steps leading
+      to the veranda and by the vine-clad balustrade, they got near enough to
+      hear them. Koupriane gave eager ear to the words of these two young men,
+      who might have been so rich in the many years of life that naturally
+      belonged to them, and who were about to die so horrible a death in
+      destroying all about them. They spoke of what time it was, of the softness
+      of the night and the beauty of the sky; they spoke of the shadows under
+      the birch-trees, of the gulf shining in the late evening&rsquo;s fading golden
+      light, of the river&rsquo;s freshness and the sweetness of springtime in the
+      North. That is what they talked about. Koupriane murmured, &ldquo;The
+      assassins!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now it was necessary to decide on action, and that necessity was horrible.
+      A false movement, an awkwardness, and the &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; would be warned, and
+      everything lost. They must have the bombs under their coats; there were
+      certainly at least two &ldquo;living bombs.&rdquo; Their chests, as they breathed,
+      must heave to and fro and their hearts beat against an impending
+      explosion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Above on the bedroom floor, they heard the rapid arranging of the room,
+      steps on the floor and a confusion of voices; shadows passed across the
+      window-space. Koupriane rapidly interrogated Ermolai and learned that all
+      the general&rsquo;s friends were there. The two doctors had arrived only a
+      couple of minutes before the Prefect of Police and the reporter. The
+      little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow had already gone, saying there was nothing
+      more for him to do when two such celebrated specialists had arrived.
+      However, in spite of their celebrity, no one had ever heard the names they
+      gave. Koupriane believed the little doctor was an accomplice. The most
+      necessary thing was to warn those in the room above. There was immediate
+      danger that someone would come downstairs to find the doctors and take
+      them to the general, or that the general would come down himself to meet
+      them. Evidently that was what they were waiting for. They wished to die in
+      his arms, to make sure that this time he did not escape them! Koupriane
+      directed Ermolai to go into the veranda and speak in a commonplace way to
+      them at the threshold of the drawing-room door, saying that he would go
+      upstairs and see if he might now escort them to Madame Trebassof&rsquo;s room.
+      Once in the room above, he could warn the others not to do anything but
+      wait for Koupriane; then Ermolai was to come down and say to the men, &ldquo;In
+      just a moment, if you please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai crept back as far as the lodge, and then came quite normally up
+      the path, letting the gravel crunch under his countrified footsteps. He
+      was an intelligent man, and grasped with extraordinary coolness the
+      importance of the plan of campaign. Easily and naturally he mounted the
+      veranda steps, paused at the threshold of the drawing-room, made the
+      remark he had been told to make, and went upstairs. Koupriane and
+      Rouletabille now watched the bedroom windows. The flitting shadows there
+      suddenly became motionless. All moving about ceased; no more steps were
+      heard, nothing. And that sudden silence made the two &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; raise their
+      faces toward the ceiling. Then they exchanged an aroused glance. This
+      change in the manner of things above was dangerous. Koupriane muttered,
+      &ldquo;The idiots!&rdquo; It was such a blow for those upstairs to learn they walked
+      over a mine ready to explode that it evidently had paralyzed their limbs.
+      Happily Ermolai came down almost immediately and said to the &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; in
+      his very best domestic manner:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just a second, messieurs, if you please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did it still with utter naturalness. And he returned to the ledge
+      before he rejoined Koupriane and Rouletabille by way of the lawn.
+      Rouletabille, entirely cool, quite master of himself, as calm now as
+      Koupriane was nervous, said to the Prefect of Police:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must act now, and quickly. They are commencing to be suspicious. Have
+      you a plan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is all I can see,&rdquo; said Koupriane. &ldquo;Have the general come down by
+      the narrow servants&rsquo; stairway, and slip out of the house from the window
+      of Natacha&rsquo;s sitting-room, with the aid of a twisted sheet. Matrena
+      Petrovna will come to speak to them during this time; that will keep them
+      patient until the general is out of danger. As soon as Matrena has
+      withdrawn into the garden, I will call my men, who will shoot them from a
+      distance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the house itself? And the general&rsquo;s friends?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let them try to get away, too, by the servants&rsquo; stairway and jump from
+      the window after the general. We must try something. Say that I have them
+      at the muzzle of my revolver.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your plan won&rsquo;t work,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;unless the door of Natacha&rsquo;s
+      sitting-room that opens on the drawing-room is closed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is. I can see from here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And unless the door of the little passage-way before that staircase that
+      opens into the drawing-room is closed also, and you cannot see it from
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That door is open,&rdquo; said Ermolai.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane swore. But he recovered himself promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame Trebassof will close the door when she speaks to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s impracticable,&rdquo; said the reporter. &ldquo;That will arouse their
+      suspicions more than ever. Leave it to me; I have a plan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have time to execute it, but not to tell you about it. They have
+      already waited too long. I shall have to go upstairs, though. Ermolai will
+      need to go with me, as with a friend of the family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would give the whole show away, if they saw you, the Prefect of
+      Police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no. If they see me&mdash;and they know I ought to be there&mdash;as
+      soon as I show myself to them they will conclude I don&rsquo;t know anything
+      about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my duty. I should be near the general to defend him until the
+      last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille shrugged his shoulders before this dangerous heroism, but he
+      did not stop to argue. He knew that his plan must succeed at once, or in
+      five minutes at the latest there would be only ruins, the dead and the
+      dying in the datcha des Iles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still he remained astonishingly calm. In principle he had admitted that he
+      was going to die. The only hope of being saved which remained to them
+      rested entirely upon their keeping perfectly cool and upon the patience of
+      the living bombs. Would they still have three minutes&rsquo; patience?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ermolai went ahead of Koupriane and Rouletabille. At the moment they
+      reached the foot of the veranda steps the servant said loudly, repeating
+      his lesson:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the general is waiting for you, Excellency. He told me to have you
+      come to him at once. He is entirely well and Madame Trebassof also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When they were in the veranda, he added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is to see also, at once, these gentlemen, who will be able to tell
+      her there is no more danger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And all three passed while Koupriane and Rouletabille vaguely saluted the
+      two conspirators in the drawing-room. It was a decisive moment.
+      Recognizing Koupriane, the two Nihilists might well believe themselves
+      discovered, as the reporter had said, and precipitate the catastrophe.
+      However, Ermolai, Koupriane and Rouletabille climbed the stairs to the
+      bedroom like automatons, not daring to look behind them, and expecting the
+      end each instant. But neither stirred. Ermolai went down again, by
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s order, normally, naturally, tranquilly. They went into
+      Matrena Petrovna&rsquo;s chamber. Everybody was there. It was a gathering of
+      ghosts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was what had happened above. That the &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; still remained below,
+      that they had not been received instantly, in brief, that the catastrophe
+      had been delayed up to now was due to Matrena Petrovna, whose watchful
+      love, like a watch-dog, was always ready to scent danger. These two
+      &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; whose names she did not know, who arrived so late, and the
+      precipitate departure of the little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow aroused her
+      watchfulness. Before allowing them to come upstairs to the general she
+      resolved to have a look at them herself downstairs. She arose from her bed
+      for that; and now her presentiment was justified. When she saw Ermolai,
+      sober and mysterious, enter with Koupriane&rsquo;s message, she knew
+      instinctively, before he spoke, that there were bombs in the house. When
+      Ermolai did speak it was a blow for everybody. At first she, Matrena
+      Perovna, had been a frightened, foolish figure in the big flowered
+      dressing-gown belonging to Feodor that she had wrapped about her in her
+      haste. When Ermolai left, the general, who knew she only trembled for him,
+      tried to reassure her, and, in the midst of the frightened silence of all
+      of them, said a few words recalling the failure of all the previous
+      attempts. But she shook her head and trembled, shaking with fear for him,
+      in agony at the thought that she could do nothing there above those living
+      bombs but wait for them to burst. As to the friends, already their limbs
+      were ruined, absolutely ruined, in very truth. For a moment they were
+      quite incapable of moving. The jolly Councilor of Empire, Ivan Petrovitch,
+      had no longer a lively tale to tell, and the abominable prospect of &ldquo;this
+      horrible mix-up&rdquo; right at hand rendered him much less gay than in his best
+      hours at Cubat&rsquo;s place. And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff was whiter than
+      the snow that covers old Lithuania&rsquo;s fields when the winter&rsquo;s chase is on.
+      Athanase Georgevitch himself was not brilliant, and his sanguine face had
+      quite changed, as though he had difficulty in digesting his last
+      masterpiece with knife and fork. But, in justice to them, that was the
+      first instantaneous effect. No one could learn like that, all of a sudden,
+      that they were about to die in an indiscriminate slaughter without the
+      heart being stopped for a little. Ermolai&rsquo;s words had turned these amiable
+      loafers into waxen statues, but, little by little, their hearts commenced
+      to beat again and each suggested some way of preventing the disaster&mdash;all
+      of them sufficiently incoherent&mdash;while Matrena Petrovna invoked the
+      Virgin and at the same time helped Feodor Feodorovitch adjust his sword
+      and buckle his belt; for the general wished to die in uniform.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Athanase Georgevitch, his eyes sticking out of his head and his body bent
+      as though he feared the Nihlists just below him might perceive his tall
+      form&mdash;through the floor, no doubt&mdash;proposed that they should
+      throw themselves out of the window, even at the cost of broken legs. The
+      saddened Councilor of Empire declared that project simply idiotic, for as
+      they fell they would be absolutely at the disposal of the Nihilists, who
+      would be attracted by the noise and would make a handful of dust of them
+      with a single gesture through the window. Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, who
+      couldn&rsquo;t think of anything at all, blamed Koupriane and the rest of the
+      police for not having devised something. Why hadn&rsquo;t they already got rid
+      of these Nihilists? After the frightened silence they had kept at first,
+      now they all spoke at once, in low voices, hoarse and rapid, with
+      shortened breath, making wild movements of the arms and head, and walked
+      here and there in the chamber quite without motive, but very softly on
+      tiptoe, going to the windows, returning, listening at the doors, peering
+      through the key-holes, exchanging absurd suggestions, full of the wildest
+      imaginings. &ldquo;If we should... if... if,&rdquo;&mdash;everybody speaking and
+      everybody making signs for the others to be quiet. &ldquo;Lower! If they hear
+      us, we are lost.&rdquo; And Koupriane, who did not come, and his police, who
+      themselves had brought two assassins into the house, and were not able now
+      to make them leave without having everybody jump! They were certainly
+      lost. There was nothing left but to say their prayers. They turned to the
+      general and Matrena Petrovna, who were wrapped in a close embrace. Feodor
+      had taken the poor disheveled head of the good Matrena between his hands
+      and pressed it upon his shoulders as he embraced her. He said, &ldquo;Rest
+      quietly against my heart, Matrena Petrovna. Nothing can happen to us
+      except what God wills.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At that sight and that remark the others grew ashamed of their confusion.
+      The harmony of that couple embracing in the presence of death restored
+      them to themselves, to their courage, and their &ldquo;Nitchevo.&rdquo; Athanase
+      Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch and Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff repeated after
+      Matrena Petrovna, &ldquo;As God wills.&rdquo; And then they said &ldquo;Nitchevo! Nitchevo!*
+      We will all die with you, Feodor Feodorovitch.&rdquo; And they all kissed one
+      another and clasped one another in their arms, their eyes dim with love
+      one for another, as at the end of a great banquet when they had eaten and
+      drunk heavily in honor of one another.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    * &ldquo;What does it matter!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen. Someone is coming up the stairs,&rdquo; whispered Matrena, with her
+      keen ear, and she slipped from the restraint of her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Breathless, they all hurried to the door opening on the landing, but with
+      steps as light &ldquo;as though they walked on eggs.&rdquo; All four of them were
+      leaning over there close by the door, hardly daring to breathe. They heard
+      two men on the stairs. Were they Koupriane and Rouletabille, or were they
+      the others? They had revolvers in their hands and drew back a little when
+      the footsteps sounded near the door. Behind them Trebassof was quietly
+      seated in his chair. The door was opened and Koupriane and Rouletabille
+      perceived these death-like figures, motionless and mute. No one dared to
+      speak or make a movement until the door had been closed. But then:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well? Well? Save us! Where are they? Ah, my dear little domovoi-doukh,
+      save the general, for the love of the Virgin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tsst! tsst! Silence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille, very pale, but calm, spoke:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The plan is simple. They are between the two staircases, watching the one
+      and the other. I will go and find them and make them mount the one while
+      you descend by the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caracho! That is simple enough. Why didn&rsquo;t we think of it sooner? Because
+      everybody lost his head except the dear little domovoi-doukh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But here something happened Rouletabille had not counted on. The general
+      rose and said, &ldquo;You have forgotten one thing, my young friend; that is
+      that General Trebassof will not descend by the servants&rsquo; stairway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His friends looked at him in stupefaction, and asked if he had gone mad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is this you say, Feodor?&rdquo; implored Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say,&rdquo; insisted the general, &ldquo;that I have had enough of this comedy, and
+      that since Monsieur Koupriane has not been able to arrest these men, and
+      since, on their side, they don&rsquo;t seem to decide to do their duty, I shall
+      go myself and put them out of my house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He started a few steps, but had not his cane and suddenly he tottered.
+      Matrena Petrovna jumped to him and lifted him in her arms as though he
+      were a feather.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not by the servants&rsquo; stairway, not by the servants&rsquo; stairway,&rdquo; growled
+      the obstinate general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go,&rdquo; Matrena replied to him, &ldquo;by the way I take you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she carried him back into the apartment while she said quickly to
+      Rouletabille:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, little domovoi! And God protect us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille disappeared at once through the door to the main staircase,
+      and the group attended by Koupriane, passed through the dressing-room and
+      the general&rsquo;s chamber, Matrena Petrovna in the lead with her precious
+      burden. Ivan Petrovitch had his hand already on the famous bolt which
+      locked the door to the servants&rsquo; staircase when they all turned at the
+      sound of a quick step behind them. Rouletabille had returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are no longer in the drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the drawing-room! Where are they, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille pointed to the door they were about to open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps behind that door. Take care!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All drew back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Ermolai ought to know where they are,&rdquo; exclaimed Koupriane. &ldquo;Perhaps
+      they have gone, finding out they were discovered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have assassinated Ermolai.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assassinated Ermolai!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have seen his body lying in the middle of the drawing-room as I leaned
+      over the top of the banister. But they were not in the room, and I was
+      afraid you would run into them, for they may well be hidden in the
+      servants&rsquo; stairway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then open the window, Koupriane, and call your men to deliver us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am quite willing,&rdquo; replied Koupriane coldly, &ldquo;but it is the signal for
+      our deaths.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why do they wait so to make us die?&rdquo; muttered Feodor Feodorovitch.
+      &ldquo;I find them very tedious about it, for myself. What are you doing, Ivan
+      Petrovitch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The spectral figure of Ivan Petrovitch, bent beside the door of the
+      stairway, seemed to be hearing things the others could not catch, but
+      which frightened them so that they fled from the general&rsquo;s chamber in
+      disorder. Ivan Petrovitch was close on them, his eyes almost sticking from
+      his head, his mouth babbling:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are there! They are there!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Athanase Georgevitch open a window wildly and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to jump.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Thaddeus Tchitchnikofl&rsquo; stopped him with a word. &ldquo;For me, I shall not
+      leave Feodor Feodorovitch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Athanase and Ivan both felt ashamed, and trembling, but brave, they
+      gathered round the general and said, &ldquo;We will die together, we will die
+      together. We have lived with Feodor Feodorovitch, and we will die with
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are they waiting for? What are they waiting for?&rdquo; grumbled the
+      general.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Matrena Petrovna&rsquo;s teeth chattered. &ldquo;They are waiting for us to go down,&rdquo;
+       said Koupraine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, let us do it. This thing must end,&rdquo; said Feodor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; they all said, for the situation was becoming intolerable;
+      &ldquo;enough of this. Go on down. Go on down. God, the Virgin and Saints Peter
+      and Paul protect us. Let us go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whole group, therefore, went to the main staircase, with the movements
+      of drunken men, fantastic waving of the arms, mouths speaking all
+      together, saying things no one but themselves understood. Rouletabille had
+      already hurriedly preceded them, was down the staircase, had time to throw
+      a glance into the drawing-room, stepped over Ermolai&rsquo;s huge corpse,
+      entered Natacha&rsquo;s sitting-room and her chamber, found all these places
+      deserted and bounded back into the veranda at the moment the others
+      commenced to descend the steps around Feodor Feodorovitch. The reporter&rsquo;s
+      eyes searched all the dark corners and had perceived nothing suspicious
+      when, in the veranda, he moved a chair. A shadow detached itself from it
+      and glided under the staircase. Rouletabille cried to the group on the
+      stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are under the staircase!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Rouletabille confronted a sight that he could never forget all his
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this cry, they all stopped, after an instinctive move to go back.
+      Feodor Feodorovitch, who was still in Matrena Petrovna&rsquo;s arms, cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vive le Tsar!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, those whom the reporter half expected to see flee, distracted,
+      one way and another, or to throw themselves madly from the height of the
+      steps, abandoning Feodor and Matrena, gathered themselves instead by a
+      spontaneous movement around the general, like a guard of honor, in battle,
+      around the flag. Koupriane marched ahead. And they insisted also upon
+      descending the terrible steps slowly, and sang the Bodje tsara Krani, the
+      national anthem!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With an overwhelming roar, which shocked earth and sky and the ears of
+      Rouletabille, the entire house seemed lifted in the air; the staircase
+      rose amid flame and smoke, and the group which sang the Bodje tsara Krani
+      disappeared in a horrible apotheosis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIV. THE MARSHES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      They ascertained the next day that there had been two explosions, almost
+      simultaneous, one under each staircase. The two Nihilists, when they felt
+      themselves discovered, and watched by Ermolai, had thrown themselves
+      silently on him as he turned his back in passing them, and strangled him
+      with a piece of twine. Then they separated each to watch one of the
+      staircases, reasoning that Koupriane and General Trebassof would have to
+      decide to descend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The datcha des Iles was nothing now but a smoking ruin. But from the fact
+      that the living bombs had exploded separately the destructive effect was
+      diffused, and although there were numerous wounded, as in the case of the
+      attack on the Stolypine datcha, at least no one was killed outright; that
+      is, excepting the two Nihilists, of whom no trace could be found save a
+      few rags.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille had been hurled into the garden and he was glad enough to
+      escape so, a little shaken, but without a scratch. The group composed of
+      Feodor and his friends were strangely protected by the lightness of the
+      datcha&rsquo;s construction. The iron staircase, which, so to speak, almost hung
+      to the two floors, being barely attached at top and bottom, raised under
+      them and then threw them off as it broke into a thousand pieces, but only
+      after, by its very yielding, it had protected them from the first force of
+      the bomb. They had risen from the ruins without mortal wounds. Koupriane
+      had a hand badly burned, Athanase Georgevitch had his nose and cheeks
+      seriously hurt, Ivan Petrovitch lost an ear; the most seriously injured
+      was Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, both of whose legs were broken.
+      Extraordinarily enough, the first person who appeared, rising from the
+      midst of the wreckage, was Matrena Petrovna, still holding Feodor in her
+      arms. She had escaped with a few burns and the general, saved again by the
+      luck of the soldier whom Death does not want, was absolutely uninjured.
+      Feodor gave shouts of joy. They strove to quiet him, because, after all,
+      around him some poor wretches had been badly hurt, as well as poor
+      Ermolai, who lay there dead. The domestics in the basement had been more
+      seriously wounded and burned because the main force of the explosion had
+      gone downwards; which had probably saved the personages above.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille had been taken with the other victims to a neighboring
+      datcha; but as soon as he had shaken himself free of that terrible
+      nightmare he escaped from the place. He really regretted that he was not
+      dead. These successive waves of events had swamped him; and he accused
+      himself alone of all this disaster. With acutest anxiety he had inquired
+      about the condition of each of &ldquo;his victims.&rdquo; Feodor had not been wounded,
+      but now he was almost delirious, asking every other minute as the hours
+      crept on for Natacha, who had not reappeared. That unhappy girl
+      Rouletabille had steadily believed innocent. Was she a culprit? &ldquo;Ah, if
+      she had only chosen to! If she had had confidence,&rdquo; he cried, raising
+      anguished hands towards heaven, &ldquo;none of all this need have happened. No
+      one would have attacked and no one would ever again attack the life of
+      Trebassof. For I was not wrong in claiming before Koupriane that the
+      general&rsquo;s life was in my hand, and I had the right to say to him, &lsquo;Life
+      for life! Give me Matiew&rsquo;s and I will give you the general&rsquo;s.&rsquo; And now
+      there has been one more fruitless attempt to kill Feodor Feodorovitch and
+      it is Natacha&rsquo;s fault&mdash;that I swear, because she would not listen to
+      me. And is Natacha implicated in it? O my God&rdquo; Rouletabille asked this
+      vain question of the Divinity, for he expected no more help in answering
+      it on earth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Natacha! Innocent or guilty, where was she? What was she doing? to know
+      that! To know if one were right or wrong&mdash;and if one were wrong, to
+      disappear, to die!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus the unhappy Rouletabille muttered as he walked along the bank of the
+      Neva, not far from the ruins of the poor datcha, where the joyous friends
+      of Feodor Feodorovitch would have no more good dinners, never; so he
+      soliloquized, his head on fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And, all at once, he recovered trace of the young girl, that trace lost
+      earlier, a trace left at her moment of flight, after the poisoning and
+      before the explosion. And had he not in that a terrible coincidence?
+      Because the poison might well have been only in preparation for the final
+      attack, the pretext for the tragic arrival of the two false doctors.
+      Natacha, Natacha, the living mystery surrounded already by so many dead!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not far from the ruins of the datcha Rouletabille soon made sure that a
+      group of people had been there the night before, coming from the woods
+      near-by, and returning to them. He was able to be sure of this because the
+      boundaries of the datcha had been guarded by troops and police as soon as
+      the explosion took place, under orders to keep back the crowd that hurried
+      to Eliaguine. He looked attentively at the grass, the ferns, the broken
+      and trampled twigs. Certainly a struggle had occurred there. He could
+      distinguish clearly in the soft earth of a narrow glade the prints of
+      Natacha&rsquo;s two little boots among all the large footprints.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued his search with his heart heavier and heavier, he had a
+      presentiment that he was on the point of discovering a new misfortune. The
+      footprints passed steadily under the branches along the side of the Neva.
+      From a bush he picked a shred of white cloth, and it seemed to him a
+      veritable battle had taken place there. Torn branches strewed the grass.
+      He went on. Very close to the bank he saw by examination of the soil,
+      where there was no more trace of tiny heels and little soles, that the
+      woman who had been found there was carried, and carried, into a boat, of
+      which the place of fastening to the bank was still visible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have carried off Natacha,&rdquo; he cried in a surge of anguish. &ldquo;bungler
+      that I am, that is my fault too&mdash;all my fault&mdash;all my fault!
+      They wished to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch&rsquo;s death, for which they hold
+      Natacha responsible, and they have kidnapped her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyes searched the great arm of the river for a boat. The river was
+      deserted. Not a sail, nothing visible on the dead waters! &ldquo;What shall I
+      do? What shall I do? I must save her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He resumed his course along the river. Who could give him any useful
+      information? He drew near a little shelter occupied by a guard. The guard
+      was speaking to an officer. Perhaps he had noticed something during his
+      watch that evening along the river. That branch of the river was almost
+      always deserted after the day was over. A boat plying between these shores
+      in the twilight would certainly attract attention. Rouletabille showed the
+      guard the paper Koupriane had given him in the beginning, and with the
+      officer (who turned out to be a police officer) as interpreter, he asked
+      his questions. As a matter of fact the guard had been sufficiently puzzled
+      by the doings and comings of a light boat which, after disappearing for an
+      instant, around the bend of the river, had suddenly rowed swiftly out
+      again and accosted a sailing-yacht which appeared at the opening of the
+      gulf. It was one of those small but rapid and elegant sailing craft such
+      as are seen in the Lachtka regattas.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lachtka! &ldquo;The Bay of Lachtka!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The word was a ray of light for the reporter, who recalled now the counsel
+      Gounsovski had given him. &ldquo;Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and tell me then if
+      you still believe Natacha is innocent!&rdquo; Gounsovski must have known when he
+      said this that Natacha had embarked in company with the Nihilists, but
+      evidently he was ignorant that she had gone with them under compulsion, as
+      their prisoner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Was it too late to save Natacha? In any case, before he died, he would try
+      in every way possible, so as at least to have kept her as much as he could
+      from the disaster for which he held himself responsible. He ran to the
+      Barque, near the Point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His voice was firm as he hailed the canoe of the floating restaurant
+      where, thanks to him, Koupriane had been thwarted in impotent anger. He
+      had himself taken to just below Staria-Derevnia and jumped out at the spot
+      where he saw little Katharina disappear a few days before. He landed in
+      the mud and climbed on hands and knees up the slope of a roadway which
+      followed the bank. This bank led to the Bay of Lachtka, not far from the
+      frontier of Finland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On Rouletabille&rsquo;s left lay the sea, the immense gulf with slight waves; to
+      his right was the decaying stretch of the marsh. Stagnant water stretching
+      to the horizon, coarse grass and reeds, an extraordinary tangle of
+      water-plants, small ponds whose greenish scum did not stir under the stiff
+      breeze, water that was heavy and dirty. Along this narrow strip of land
+      thrust thus between the marsh, the sky and the sea, he hurried, with many
+      stumblings, his eyes fixed on the deserted gulf. Suddenly he turned his
+      head at a singular noise. At first he didn&rsquo;t see anything, but heard in
+      the distance a vague clamoring while a sort of vapor commenced to rise
+      from the marsh. And then he noticed, nearer him, the high marsh grasses
+      undulating. Finally he saw a countless flock rising from the bed of the
+      marshes. Beasts, groups of beasts, whose horns one saw like bayonets,
+      jostled each other trying to keep to the firm land. Many of them swam and
+      on the backs of some were naked men, stark naked, with hair falling to
+      their shoulders and streaming behind them like manes. They shouted
+      war-cries and waved their clubs. Rouletabille stopped short before this
+      prehistoric invasion. He would never have imagined that a few miles from
+      the Nevsky Prospect he could have found himself in the midst of such a
+      spectacle. These savages had not even a loin-cloth. Where did they come
+      from with their herd? From what remote place in the world or in old and
+      gone history had they emerged? What was this new invasion? What prodigious
+      slaughter-house awaited these unruly herds? They made a noise like thunder
+      in the marsh. Here were a thousand unkempt haunches undulating in the
+      marsh like the ocean as a storm approaches. The stark-naked men jumped
+      along the route, waving their clubs, crying gutturally in a way the beasts
+      seemed to understand. They worked their way out from the marsh and turned
+      toward the city, leaving behind, to swathe the view of them a while and
+      then fade away, a pestilential haze that hung like an aura about the
+      naked, long-haired men. It was terrible and magnificent. In order not to
+      be shoved into the water, Rouletabille had climbed a small rock that stood
+      beside the route, and had waited there as though petrified himself. When
+      the barbarians had finally passed by he climbed down again, but the route
+      had become a bog of trampled filth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Happily, he heard the noise of a primitive conveyance behind him. It was a
+      telega. Curiously primitive, the telega is four-wheeled, with two planks
+      thrown crudely across the axle-trees. Rouletabille gave the man who was
+      seated in it three roubles, and jumped into the planks beside him, and the
+      two little Finnish horses, whose manes hung clear to the mud, went like
+      the wind. Such crude conveyances are necessary on such crude roads, but it
+      requires a strong constitution to make a journey on them. Still, the
+      reporter felt none of the jolting, he was so intent on the sea and the
+      coast of Lachtka Bay. The vehicle finally reached a wooden bridge, across
+      a murky creek. As the day commenced to fade colorlessly, Rouletabille
+      jumped off onto the shore and his rustic equipage crossed to the
+      Sestroriesk side. It was a corner of land black and somber as his thoughts
+      that he surveyed now. &ldquo;Watch the Bay of Lachtka!&rdquo; The reporter knew that
+      this desolate plain, this impenetrable marsh, this sea which offered the
+      fugitive refuge in innumerable fords, had always been a useful retreat for
+      Nihilistic adventurers. A hundred legends circulated in St. Petersburg
+      about the mysteries of Lachtka marshes. And that gave him his last hope.
+      Maybe he would be able to run across some revolutionaries to whom he could
+      explain about Natacha, as prudently as possible; he might even see Natacha
+      herself. Gounsovski could not have spoken vain words to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Between the Lachtkrinsky marsh and the strand he perceived on the edge of
+      the forests which run as far as Sestroriesk a little wooden house whose
+      walls were painted a reddish-brown, and its roof green. It was not the
+      Russian isba, but the Finnish touba. However, a Russian sign announced it
+      to be a restaurant. The young man had to take only a few steps to enter
+      it. He was the only customer there. An old man, with glasses and a long
+      gray beard, evidently the proprietor of the establishment, stood behind
+      the counter, presiding over the zakouskis. Rouletabille chose some little
+      sandwiches which he placed on a plate. He took a bottle of pivo and made
+      the man understand that later, if it were possible, he would like a good
+      hot supper. The other made a sign that he understood and showed him into
+      an adjoining room which was used for diners. Rouletabille was quite ready
+      enough to die in the face of his failures, but he did not wish to perish
+      from hunger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A table was placed beside a window looking out over the sea and over the
+      entrance to the bay. It could not have been better and, with his eye now
+      on the horizon, now on the estuary near-by, he commenced to eat with
+      gloomy avidity. He was inclined to feel sorry for himself, to indulge in
+      self-pity. &ldquo;Just the same, two and two always make four,&rdquo; he said to
+      himself; &ldquo;but in my calculations perhaps I have forgotten the surd. Ah,
+      there was a time when I would not have overlooked anything. And even now I
+      haven&rsquo;t overlooked anything, if Natacha is innocent!&rdquo; Having literally
+      scoured the plate, he struck the table a great blow with his fist and
+      said: &ldquo;She is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just then the door opened. Rouletabille supposed the proprietor of the
+      place was entering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Koupriane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose, startled. He could not imagine by what mystery the Prefect of
+      Police had made his way there, but he rejoiced from the bottom of his
+      heart, for if he was trying to rescue Natacha from the hands of the
+      revolutionaries Koupriane would be a valuable ally. He clapped the Prefect
+      on the shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well!&rdquo; he said, almost joyfully. &ldquo;I certainly did not expect you
+      here. How is your wound?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nitchevo! Not worth speaking about; it&rsquo;s nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the general and&mdash;! Ah, that frightful night! And those two
+      unfortunates who&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nitchevo! Nitchevo!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And poor Ermolai!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nitchevo! Nitchevo! It is nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked him over. The Prefect of Police had an arm in a sling,
+      but he was bright and shining as a new ten-rouble piece, while he, poor
+      Rouletabille, was so abominably soiled and depressed. Where did he come
+      from? Koupriane understood his look and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I have just come from the Finland train; it is the best way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what can you have come here to do, Excellency?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same thing as you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bah!&rdquo; exclaimed Rouletabille, &ldquo;do you mean to say that you have come here
+      to save Natacha?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How&mdash;to save her! I come to capture her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To capture her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Rouletabille, I have a very fine little dungeon in Saints Peter
+      and Paul fortress that is all ready for her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are going to throw Natacha into a dungeon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Emperor&rsquo;s order, Monsieur Rouletabille. And if you see me here in
+      person it is simply because His Majesty requires that the thing be done as
+      respectfully and discreetly as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha in prison!&rdquo; cried the reporter, who saw in horror all obstacles
+      rising before him at one and the same time. &ldquo;For what reasons, pray?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The reason is simple enough. Natacha Feodorovna is the last word in
+      wickedness and doesn&rsquo;t deserve anybody&rsquo;s pity. She is the accomplice of
+      the revolutionaries and the instigator of all the crimes against her
+      father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure that you are mistaken, Excellency. But how have you been guided
+      to her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Simply by you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, we lost all trace of Natacha. But, as you had disappeared also, I
+      made up my mind that you could only be occupied in searching for her, and
+      that by finding you I might have the chance to lay my hands on her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I haven&rsquo;t seen any of your men?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, one of them brought you here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you. Didn&rsquo;t you climb onto a telega?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, the driver.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. I had arranged to have him meet me at the Sestroriesk station.
+      He pointed out the place where you dropped off, and here I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter bent his head, red with chagrin. Decidedly the sinister idea
+      that he was responsible for the death of an innocent man and all the ills
+      which had followed out of it had paralyzed his detective talents. He
+      recognized it now. What was the use of struggling! If anyone had told him
+      that he would be played with that way sometime, he, Rouletabille! he would
+      have laughed heartily enough&mdash;then. But now, well, he wasn&rsquo;t capable
+      of anything further. He was his own most cruel enemy. Not only was Natacha
+      in the hands of the revolutionaries through his fault, by his abominable
+      error, but worse yet, in the very moment when he wished to save her, he
+      foolishly, naively, had conducted the police to the very spot where they
+      should have been kept away. It was the depth of his humiliation; Koupriane
+      really pitied the reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, don&rsquo;t blame yourself too much,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;We would have found
+      Natacha without you; Gounsovski notified us that she was going to embark
+      in the Bay of Lachtka this evening with Priemkof.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha with Priemkof!&rdquo; exclaimed Rouletabille. &ldquo;Natacha with the man who
+      introduced the two living bombs into her father&rsquo;s house! If she is with
+      him, Excellency, it is because she is his prisoner, and that alone will be
+      sufficient to prove her innocence. I thank the Heaven that has sent you
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane swallowed a glass of vodka, poured another after it, and finally
+      deigned to translate his thought:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha is the friend of these precious men and we will see them
+      disembark hand in hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your men, then, haven&rsquo;t studied the traces of the struggle that &lsquo;these
+      precious men&rsquo; have had on the banks of the Neva before they carried away
+      Natacha?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they haven&rsquo;t been hoodwinked. As a matter of fact, the struggle was
+      quite too visible not to have been done for appearances&rsquo; sake. What a
+      child you are! Can&rsquo;t you see that Natacha&rsquo;s presence in the datcha had
+      become quite too dangerous for that charming young girl after the
+      poisoning of her father and step-mother failed and at the moment when her
+      comrades were preparing to send General Trebassof a pleasant little gift
+      of dynamite? She arranged to get away and yet to appear kidnapped. It is
+      too simple.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille raised his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is something simpler still to imagine than the culpability of
+      Natacha. It is that Priemkof schemed to pour the poison into the flask of
+      vodka, saying to himself that if the poison didn&rsquo;t succeed at least it
+      would make the occasion for introducing his dynamite into the house in the
+      pockets of the &lsquo;doctors&rsquo; that they would go to find.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane seized Rouletabille&rsquo;s wrist and threw some terrible words at
+      him, looking into the depths of his eyes:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was not Priemkof who poured the poison, because there was no poison in
+      the flask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille, as he heard this extraordinary declaration, rose, more
+      startled than he had ever been in the course of this startling campaign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If there was no poison in the flask, the poison must have been poured
+      directly into the glasses by a person who was in the kiosk! Now, there
+      were only four persons in the kiosk: the two who were poisoned and Natacha
+      and himself, Rouletabille. And that kiosk was so perfectly isolated that
+      it was impossible for any other persons than the four who were there to
+      pour poison upon the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is not possible!&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so possible that it is so. Pere Alexis declared that there is no
+      poison in the flask, and I ought to tell you that an analysis I had made
+      after his bears him out. There was no poison, either, in the small bottle
+      you took to Pere Alexis and into which you yourself had poured the
+      contents of Natacha&rsquo;s glass and yours; no trace of poison excepting in two
+      of the four glasses, arsenate of soda was found only on the soiled napkins
+      of Trebassof and his wife and in the two glasses they drank from.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that is horrible,&rdquo; muttered the stupefied reporter; &ldquo;that is
+      horrible, for then the poisoner must be either Natacha or me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have every confidence in you,&rdquo; declared Koupriane with a great laugh of
+      satisfaction, striking him on the shoulder. &ldquo;And I arrest Natacha, and you
+      who love logic ought to be satisfied now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille hadn&rsquo;t a word more to say. He sat down again and let his head
+      fall into his hands, like one sleep has seized.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, our young girls; you don&rsquo;t know them. They are terrible, terrible!&rdquo;
+       said Koupriane, lighting a big cigar. &ldquo;Much more terrible than the boys.
+      In good families the boys still enjoy themselves; but the girls&mdash;they
+      read! It goes to their heads. They are ready for anything; they know
+      neither father nor mother. Ah, you are a child, you cannot comprehend. Two
+      lovely eyes, a melancholy air, a soft, low voice, and you are captured&mdash;you
+      believe you have before you simply an inoffensive, good little girl. Well,
+      Rouletabille, here is what I will tell you for your instruction. There was
+      the time of the Tchipoff attack; the revolutionaries who were assigned to
+      kill Tchipoff were disguised as coachmen and footmen. Everything had been
+      carefully prepared and it would seem that no one could have discovered the
+      bombs in the place they had been stored. Well, do you know the place where
+      those bombs were found? In the rooms of the governor, of Wladmir&rsquo;s
+      daughter! Exactly, my little friend, just there! The rooms of the
+      governor&rsquo;s daughter, Mademoiselle Alexeieiv. Ah, these young girls!
+      Besides, it was this same Mademoiselle Alexeieiv who, so prettily, pierced
+      the brain of an honest Swiss merchant who had the misfortune to resemble
+      one of our ministers. If we had hanged that charming young girl earlier,
+      my dear Monsieur Rouletabille, that last catastrophe might have been
+      avoided. A good rope around the neck of all these little females&mdash;it
+      is the only way, the only way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A man entered. Rouletabille recognized the driver of the telega. There
+      were some rapid words between the Chief and the agent. The man closed the
+      shutters of the room, but through the interstices they would be able to
+      see what went on outside. Then the agent left; Koupriane, as he pushed
+      aside the table that was near the window, said to the reporter:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better come to the window; my man has just told me the boat is
+      drawing near. You can watch an interesting sight. We are sure that Natacha
+      is still aboard. The yacht, after the explosion at the datcha, took up two
+      men who put off to it in a canoe, and since then it has simply sailed back
+      and forth in the gulf. We have taken our precautions in Finland the same
+      as here and it is here they are going to try to disembark. Keep an eye on
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane was at his post of observation. Evening slowly fell. The sky was
+      growing grayish-black, a tint that blended with the slate-colored sea. To
+      those on the bank, the sound of the men about to die came softly across
+      the water. There was a sail far out. Between the strand and the touba
+      where Koupriane watched, was a ridge, a window, which, however, did not
+      hide the shore or the bay from the prefect of police, because at the
+      height where he was his glance passed at an angle above it. But from the
+      sea this ridge entirely hid anyone who lay in ambush behind it. The
+      reporter watched fifty moujiks flat on their stomachs crawling up the
+      ridge, behind two of their number whose heads alone topped the ridge. In
+      the line of gaze taken by those two heads was the white sail, looming much
+      larger now. The yacht was heeled in the water and glided with real
+      elegance, heading straight on. Suddenly, just when they supposed she was
+      coming straight to shore, the sails fell and a canoe was dropped over the
+      side. Four men got into it; then a woman jumped lightly down a little
+      gangway into the canoe. It was Natacha. Koupriane had no difficulty in
+      recognizing her through the gathering darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;see your prisoner of the
+      Nihilists. Notice how she is bound. Her thongs certainly are causing her
+      great pain. These revolutionaries surely are brutes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The truth was that Natacha had gone quite readily to the rudder and while
+      the others rowed she steered the light boat to the place on the beach that
+      had been pointed out to her. Soon the prow of the canoe touched the sands.
+      There did not seem to be a soul about, and that was the conclusion the men
+      in the canoe who stood up looking around, seemed to reach. They jumped
+      out, and then it was Natacha&rsquo;s turn. She accepted the hand held out to
+      her, talking pleasantly with the men all the time. She even turned to
+      press the hand of one of them. The group came up across the beach. All
+      this time the watchers in the little eating-house could see the false
+      moujiks, who had wriggled on their stomachs to the very edge of the ridge,
+      holding themselves ready to spring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind his shutter, Koupriane could not restrain an exclamation of
+      triumph; he gradually identified some of the figures in the group, and
+      muttered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! eh! There is Priemkof himself and the others. Gounsovski is right and
+      he certainly is well-informed; his system is decidedly a good one. What a
+      net-full!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hardly breathed as he watched the outcome. He could discern elsewhere,
+      beside the bay, flat on the ground, concealed by the slightest elevation
+      of the soil, other false moujiks. The wood of Sestroriesk was watched in
+      the same way. The group of revolutionaries who strolled behind Natacha
+      stopped to confer. In three&mdash;maybe two&mdash;minutes, they would be
+      surrounded&mdash;cut off, taken in the trap. Suddenly a gunshot sounded in
+      the night, and the group, with startled speed, turned in their tracks and
+      made silently for the sea, while from all directions poured the concealed
+      agents and threw themselves into the pursuit, jostling each other and
+      crying after the fugitives. But the cries became cries of rage, for the
+      group of revolutionaries gained the beach. They saw Natacha, who was held
+      up by Priemkof himself, reject the aid of the Nihilist, who did not wish
+      to abandon her, in order that he might save himself. She made him go and
+      seeing that she was going to be taken, stopped short and waited for the
+      enemy stoically, with folded arms. Meanwhile, her three companions
+      succeeded in throwing themselves into the canoe and plied the oars hard
+      while Koupriane&rsquo;s men, in the water up to their chests, discharged their
+      revolvers at the fugitives. The men in the canoe, fearing to wound
+      Natacha, made no reply to the firing. The yacht had sails up by the time
+      they drew alongside, and made off like a bird toward the mysterious fords
+      of Finland, audaciously hoisting the black flag of the Revolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meantime, Koupriane&rsquo;s agents, trembling before his anger, gathered at the
+      eating-house. The Prefect of Police let his fury loose on them and treated
+      them like the most infamous of animals. The capture of Natacha was little
+      comfort. He had planned for the whole bag, and his men&rsquo;s stupidity took
+      away all his self-control. If he had had a whip at hand he would have
+      found prompt solace for his mined hopes. Natacha, standing in a corner,
+      with her face singularly calm, watched this extraordinary scene that was
+      like a menagerie in which the tamer himself had become a wild beast. From
+      another corner, Rouletabille kept his eyes fixed on Natacha who ignored
+      him. Ah, that girl, sphinx to them all! Even to him who thought a while
+      ago that he could read things invisible to other vulgar men in her
+      features, in her eyes! The impassive face of that girl whose father they
+      had tried to assassinate only a few hours before and who had just pressed
+      the hand of Priemkof, the assassin! Once she turned her head slightly
+      toward Rouletabille. The reporter then looked towards her with increased
+      eagerness, his eyes burning, as though he would say: &ldquo;Surely, Natacha, you
+      are not the accomplice of your father&rsquo;s assassins; surely it was not you
+      who poured the poison!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Natacha&rsquo;s glance passed the reporter coldly over. Ah, that mysterious,
+      cold mask, the mouth with its bitter, impudent smile, an atrocious smile
+      which seemed to say to the reporter: &ldquo;If it is not I who poured the
+      poison, then it is you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the visage common enough to the daughters whom Koupriane had spoken
+      of a little while before, &ldquo;the young girls who read&rdquo; and, their reading
+      done, set themselves to accomplish some terrible thing, some thing because
+      of which, from time to time, they place stiff ropes around the necks of
+      these young females.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally, Koupriane&rsquo;s frenzy wore itself out and he made a sign. The men
+      filed out in dismal silence. Two of them remained to guard Natacha. From
+      outside came the sounds of a carriage from Sestroriesk ready to convey the
+      girl to the Dungeons of Sts. Peter and Paul. A final gesture from the
+      Prefect of Police and the rough bands of the two guards seized the
+      prisoner&rsquo;s frail wrists. They hustled her along, thrust her outside,
+      jamming her against the doorway, venting thus their anger at the
+      reproaches of their chief. A few seconds later the carriage departed, not
+      to stop until the fortress was reached with the trickling tombs under the
+      bed of the river where young girls about to die are confined&mdash;who
+      have read too much, without entirely understanding, as Monsieur Kropotkine
+      says.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane prepared to leave in turn. Rouletabille stopped him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excellency, I wish you to tell me why you have shown such anger to your
+      men just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are brute beasts,&rdquo; cried the Chief of Police, quite beside himself
+      again. &ldquo;They have made me miss the biggest catch of my life. They threw
+      themselves on the group two minutes too early. Some of them fired a gun
+      that they took for the signal and that served to warn the Nihilists. But I
+      will let them all rot in prison until I learn which one fired that shot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t look far for that,&rdquo; said Rouletabille. &ldquo;I did it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You! Then you must have gone outside the touba?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, in order to warn them. But still I was a little late, since you did
+      take Natacha.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Koupriane&rsquo;s eyes blazed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are their accomplice in all this,&rdquo; he hurled at the reporter, &ldquo;and I
+      am going to the Tsar for permission to arrest you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurry, then, Excellency,&rdquo; replied the reporter coldly, &ldquo;because the
+      Nihilists, who also think they have a little account to settle with me,
+      may reach me before you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he saluted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XV. &ldquo;I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU&rdquo;
+     </h2>
+    <p>
+      At the hotel a note from Gounsovski: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t forget this time to come
+      to-morrow to have luncheon with me. Warmest regards from Madame
+      Gounsovski.&rdquo; Then a horrible, sleepless night, shaken with echoes of
+      explosions and the clamor of the wounded; and the solemn shade of Pere
+      Alexis, stretching out toward Rouletabille a phial of poison and saying,
+      &ldquo;Either Natacha or you!&rdquo; Then, rising among the shades the bloody form of
+      Michael Nikolaievitch the Innocent!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the morning a note from the Marshal of the Court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Monsieur le Marechal had no particular good news, evidently, for in terms
+      quite without enthusiasm he invited the young man to luncheon for that
+      same day, rather early, at midday, as he wished to see him once more
+      before he left for France. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Rouletabille to himself;
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Marechal pronounces my expulsion from the country&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      he forgot once more the Gounsovski luncheon. The meeting-place named was
+      the great restaurant called the Bear. Rouletabille entered it promptly at
+      noon. He asked the schwitzar if the Grand Marshal of the Court had
+      arrived, and was told no one had seen him yet. They conducted him to the
+      huge main hall, where, however, there was only one person. This man,
+      standing before the table spread with zakouskis, was stuffing himself. At
+      the sound of Rouletabille&rsquo;s step on the floor this sole famished patron
+      turned and lifted his hands to heaven as he recognized the reporter. The
+      latter would have given all the roubles in his pocket to have avoided the
+      recognition. But he was already face to face with the advocate so
+      celebrated for his table-feats, the amiable Athanase Georgevitch, his head
+      swathed in bandages and dressings from the midst of which one could
+      perceive distinctly only the eyes and, above all, the mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How goes it, little friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I! There is nothing the matter. In a week we shall have forgotten
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a terrible affair,&rdquo; said the reporter, &ldquo;I certainly believed we were
+      all dead men.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. It was nothing. Nitchevo!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff with his two poor legs broken!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! Nitchevo! He has plenty of good solid splints that will make him two
+      good legs again. Nitchevo! Don&rsquo;t you think anything more about that! It is
+      nothing. You have come here to dine? A very celebrated house this.
+      Caracho!&rdquo; He busied himself to do the honors. One would have said the
+      restaurant belonged to him. He boasted of its architecture and the cuisine
+      &ldquo;a la Francaise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know,&rdquo; he inquired confidently, &ldquo;a finer restaurant room anywhere
+      in the world?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In fact, it seemed to Rouletabille as he looked up into the high glass
+      arch that he was in a railway station decorated for some illustrious
+      traveler, for there were flowers and plants everywhere. But the visitor
+      whom the ball awaited was the Russian eater, the ogre who never failed to
+      come to eat at The Bear. Pointing out the lines of tables shining with
+      their white cloths and bright silver, Athanase Georgevitch, with his mouth
+      full, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my dear little French monsieur, you should see it at supper-time,
+      with the women, and the jewels, and the music. There is nothing in France
+      that can give you any idea of it, nothing! The gayety&mdash;the champagne&mdash;and
+      the jewels, monsieur, worth millions and millions of roubles! Our women
+      wear them all&mdash;everything they have. They are decked like sacred
+      shrines! All the family jewels&mdash;from the very bottom of the caskets!
+      it is magnificent, thoroughly Russian&mdash;Muscovite! What am I saying?
+      It is Asiatic. Monsieur, in the evening, at a fete, we are Asiatic. Let me
+      tell you something on the quiet. You notice that this enormous dining hall
+      is surrounded by those windowed balconies. Each of those windows belongs
+      to a separate private room. Well, you see that window there?&mdash;yes,
+      there&mdash;that is the room of a grand duke&mdash;yes, he&rsquo;s the one I
+      mean&mdash;a very gay grand duke. Do you know, one evening when there was
+      a great crowd here&mdash;families, monsieur, family parties, high-born
+      families&mdash;the window of that particular balcony was thrown open, and
+      a woman stark naked, as naked as my hand, monsieur, was dropped into the
+      dining-hall and ran across it full-speed. It was a wager, monsieur, a
+      wager of the jolly grand duke&rsquo;s, and the demoiselle won it. But what a
+      scandal! Ah, don&rsquo;t speak of it; that would be very bad form. But&mdash;sufficiently
+      Asiatic, eh? Truly Asiatic. And&mdash;something much more unfortunate&mdash;you
+      see that table? It happened the Russian New Year Eve, at supper. All the
+      beauty, the whole capital, was here. Just at midnight the orchestra struck
+      up the Bodje tsara krani* to inaugurate the joyful Russian New Year, and
+      everybody stood up, according to custom, and listened in silence, as loyal
+      subjects should. Well, at that table, accompanying his family, there was a
+      young student, a fine fellow, very correct, and in uniform. This unhappy
+      young student, who had risen like everybody else, to listen to the Bodje
+      tsara krani, inadvertently placed his knee on a chair. Truly that is not a
+      correct attitude, monsieur, but really it was no reason for killing him,
+      was it now? Certainly not. Well, a brute in uniform, an officer quite
+      immaculately gotten-up, drew a revolver from his pocket and discharged it
+      at the student point-blank. You can imagine the scandal, for the student
+      was dead! There were Paris journalists there, besides, who had never been
+      there before, you see! Monsieur Gaston Leroux was at that very table. What
+      a scandal! They had a regular battle. They broke carafes over the head of
+      the assassin&mdash;for he was neither more nor less than an assassin, a
+      drinker of blood&mdash;an Asiatic. They picked up the assassin, who was
+      bleeding all over, and carried him off to look after him. As to the dead
+      man, he lay stretched out there under a table-cloth, waiting for the
+      police&mdash;and those at the tables went on with their drinking. Isn&rsquo;t
+      that Asiatic enough for you? Here, a naked woman; there, a corpse! And the
+      jewels&mdash;and the champagne! What do you say to that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * The Russian national anthem.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Excellency the Grand Marshal of the Court is waiting for you,
+      Monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille shook hands with Athanase Georgevitch, who returned to his
+      zakouskis, and followed the interpreter to the door of one of the private
+      rooms. The high dignitary was there. With a charm in his politeness of
+      which the high-born Russian possesses the secret over almost everybody
+      else in the world, the Marshal intimated to Rouletabille that he had
+      incurred imperial displeasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been denounced by Koupriane, who holds you responsible for the
+      checks he has suffered in this affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Koupriane is right,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, &ldquo;and His Majesty
+      should believe him, since it is the truth. But don&rsquo;t fear anything from
+      me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, for I shall not inconvenience Monsieur
+      Koupriane any further, nor anybody else. I shall disappear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe Koupriane is already directed to vise your passport.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is very good, and he does himself much harm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that is a little your fault, Monsieur Rouletabille. We believed we
+      could consider you as a friend, and you have never failed, it appears, on
+      each occasion to give your help to our enemies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who says that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Koupriane. Oh, it is necessary to be one with us. And you are not one
+      with us. And if you are not for us you are against us. You understand
+      that, I think. That is the way it has to be. The Terrorists have returned
+      to the methods of the Nihilists, who succeeded altogether too well against
+      Alexander II. When I tell you that they succeeded in placing their
+      messages even in the imperial palace...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, vaguely, as though he were already far
+      removed from the contingencies of this world. &ldquo;I know that Czar Alexander
+      II sometimes found under his napkin a letter announcing his condemnation
+      to death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, at the Chateau yesterday morning something happened that is
+      perhaps more alarming than the letter found by Alexander II under his
+      napkin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What can it be? Have bombs been discovered?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. It is a bizarre occurrence and almost unbelievable. The eider downs,
+      all the eider down coverings belonging to the imperial family disappeared
+      yesterday morning.&rdquo; *
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * Historically authentic.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely not!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is just as I say. And it was impossible to learn what had become of
+      them&mdash;until yesterday evening, when they were found again in their
+      proper places in the chambers. That is the new mystery!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. But how were they taken out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall we ever know? All we found was two feathers, this morning, in the
+      boudoir of the Empress, which leads us to think that the eider downs were
+      taken out that way. I am taking the two feathers to Koupriane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see them,&rdquo; asked the reporter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked them over and handed them back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do you think the whole affair means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are inclined to regard it as a threat by the revolutionaries. If they
+      can carry away the eider downs, it would be quite as easy for them to
+      carry away...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Imperial family? No, I don&rsquo;t think it is that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? Nothing any more. Not only do I not think any more, but I don&rsquo;t wish
+      to. Tell me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, it is useless, I suppose, to try
+      to see His Majesty before I go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What good would it do, monsieur? We know everything now. This Natacha
+      that you defended against Koupriane is proved the culprit. The last affair
+      does not leave that in any reasonable doubt. And she is taken care of from
+      this time on. His Majesty wishes never to hear Natacha spoken of again
+      under any pretext.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what are you going to do with that young girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Tsar has decided that there shall not be any trial and that the
+      daughter of General Trebassof shall be sent, by administrative order, to
+      Siberia. The Tsar, monsieur, is very good, for he might have had her
+      hanged. She deserved it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, the Tsar is very good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very absorbed, Monsieur Rouletabille, and you are not eating.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no appetite, Monsieur le Marechal. Tell me,&mdash;the Emperor must
+      be rather bored at Tsarskoie-Coelo?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he has plenty of work. He rises at seven o&rsquo;clock and has a light
+      English luncheon&mdash;tea and toast. At eight o&rsquo;clock he starts and works
+      till ten. From ten to eleven he promenades.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the jail-yard?&rdquo; asked Rouletabille innocently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that you say? Ah, you are an enfant terrible! Certainly we do well
+      to send you away. Until eleven he promenades in a pathway of the park.
+      From eleven to one he holds audience; luncheon at one; then he spends the
+      time until half-past two with his family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does he eat?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Soup. His Majesty is wonderfully fond of soup. He takes it at every meal.
+      After luncheon he smokes, but never a cigar&mdash;always cigarettes, gifts
+      of the Sultan; and he only drinks one liqueur, Maraschino. At half-past
+      two he goes out again for a little air&mdash;always in his park; then he
+      sets himself to work until eight o&rsquo;clock. It is simply frightful work,
+      with heaps of useless papers and numberless signatures. No secretary can
+      spare him that ungrateful bureaucratic duty. He must sign, sign, sign, and
+      read, read, read the reports. And it is work without any beginning or end;
+      as soon as some reports go, others arrive. At eight o&rsquo;clock, dinner, and
+      then more signatures, working right up to eleven o&rsquo;clock. At eleven
+      o&rsquo;clock he goes to bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he sleeps to the rhythmical tramp of the guards on patrol,&rdquo; added
+      Rouletabille, bluntly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O young man, young man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal,&rdquo; said the reporter, rising; &ldquo;I am,
+      indeed, a disturbing spirit and I know that I have nothing more to do in
+      this country. You will not see me any more, Monsieur le Grand Marechal;
+      but before leaving I ought to tell you how much I have been touched by the
+      hospitality of your great nation. That hospitality is sometimes a little
+      dangerous, but it is always magnificent. No other nation in the world
+      knows like the Russians how to receive a man, Your Excellency. I speak as
+      I feel; and that isn&rsquo;t affected by my manner of quitting you, for you know
+      also how to put a man to the door. Adieu, then; without any rancor. My
+      most respectful homage to His Majesty. Ah, just one word more! You will
+      recall that Natacha Feodorovna was engaged to poor Boris Mourazoff, still
+      another young man who has disappeared and who, before disappearing,
+      charged me to deliver to General Trebassof&rsquo;s daughter this last token&mdash;these
+      two little ikons. I entrust you with this mission, Monsieur le Grand
+      Marechal. Your servant, Excellency.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille re-descended the great Kaniouche. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said he to himself,
+      &ldquo;it is my turn to buy farewell presents.&rdquo; And he made his way slowly
+      across la Place des Grandes-Ecuries and the bridge of the Katharine canal.
+      He entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok and pushed open Pere Alexis&rsquo;s door, under
+      the arch, at the back of the obscure court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Health and prosperity, Alexis Hutch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you again, little man! Well? Koupriane has let you know the result of
+      my analyses?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes. Tell me, Alexis Hutch, you are sure you are not mistaken? You
+      don&rsquo;t think you might be mistaken? Think carefully before you answer. It
+      is a question of life or death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For whom?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For you, good little friend! You want to make your old Pere Alexis laugh&mdash;or
+      weep!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I couldn&rsquo;t be mistaken. The thing is as certain as that we two are
+      here&mdash;arsenate of soda in the stains on the two napkins and traces of
+      arsenate of soda in two of the four glasses; none in the carafe, none in
+      the little bottle, none in the two glasses. I say it before you and before
+      God.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is really true. Thank you, Alexis Hutch. Koupriane has not tried to
+      deceive me. There has been nothing of that sort. Well, do you know, Alexis
+      Hutch, who has poured the poison? It is she or I. And as it is not I, it
+      is she. And since it is she, well, I am going to die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You love her, then?&rdquo; inquired Pere Alexis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, with a self-mocking smile. &ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t love
+      her. But if it is she who poured the poison, then it was not Michael
+      Nikolaievitch, and it is I who had Michael Nikolaievitch killed. You can
+      see now that therefore I must die. Show me your finest images.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my little one, if you will permit your old Alexis to make you a gift,
+      I would offer you these two poor ikons that are certainly from the convent
+      of Troitza at its best period. See how beautiful they are, and old. Have
+      you ever seen so beautiful a Mother of God? And this St. Luke, would you
+      believe that the hand had been mended, eh? Two little masterpieces, little
+      friend! If the old masters of Salonika returned to the world they would be
+      satisfied with their pupils at Troitza. But you mustn&rsquo;t kill yourself at
+      your age!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, bat ouclzka (little father), I accept your gift, and, if I meet the
+      old Salonican masters on the road I am going to travel, I shan&rsquo;t fail to
+      tell them there is no person here below who appreciates them like a
+      certain pere of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, Alexis Hutch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So saying Rouletabille wrapped up the two little ikons and put them in his
+      pocket. The Saint Luke would be sure to appeal to his friend Sainclair. As
+      to the Mother of God, that would be his dying gift to the Dame en noir.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you are sad, little son; and your voice, as it sounds now, hurts me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille turned his head at the sound of two moujiks who entered,
+      carrying a long basket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo; demanded Pere Alexis in Russian, &ldquo;and what is that you
+      are bringing in? Do you intend to fill that huge basket with my goods? In
+      that case you are very welcome and I am your humble servant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the two chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, we have come to rid your shop of a wretched piece of goods that
+      litters it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is this you say?&rdquo; inquired the old man, anxiously, and drawing near
+      Rouletabille. &ldquo;Little friend, watch these men; I don&rsquo;t recognize their
+      faces and I can&rsquo;t understand why they have come here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille looked at the new-comers, who drew near the counter, after
+      depositing their long basket close to the door. There was a sarcastic and
+      malicious mocking way about them that struck him from the first. But while
+      they kept up their jabbering with Pere Alexis he filled his pipe and
+      proceeded to light it. Just then the door was pushed open again and three
+      men entered, simply dressed, like respectable small merchants. They also
+      acted curiously and looked all around the shop. Pere Alexis grew more and
+      more alarmed and the others pulled rudely at his beard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe these men here have come to rob me,&rdquo; he cried in French. &ldquo;What
+      do you say, my son?&mdash;Shall I call the police?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille impassively. &ldquo;They are all armed; they
+      have revolvers in their pockets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pere Alexis&rsquo;s teeth commenced to chatter. As he tried to get near the door
+      he was roughly pushed back and a final personage entered, apparently a
+      gentleman, and dressed as such, save that he wore a visored leather cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said he at once in French, &ldquo;why, it is the young French journalist
+      of the Grand-Morskaia Hotel. Salutations and your good health! I see with
+      pleasure that you also appreciate the counsels of our dear Pere Alexis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t listen to him, little friend; I don&rsquo;t know him,&rdquo; cried Alexis
+      Hutch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the gentleman of the Neva went on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a man close to the first principles of science, and therefore not
+      far from divine; he is a holy man, whom it is good to consult at moments
+      when the future appears difficult. He knows how to read as no one else can&mdash;Father
+      John of Cronstadt excepted, to be strictly accurate&mdash;on the sheets of
+      bull-hide where the dark angels have traced mysterious signs of destiny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the gentleman picked up an old pair of boots, which he threw on the
+      counter in the midst of the ikons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pere Alexis, perhaps these are not bull-hide, but good enough cow-hide.
+      Don&rsquo;t you want to read on this cow-hide the future of this young man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But here Rouletabille advanced to the gentleman, and blew an enormous
+      cloud of smoke full in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is useless, monsieur,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, &ldquo;to waste your time and your
+      breath. I have been waiting for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVI. BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Only, Rouletabille refused to be put into the basket. He would not let
+      them disarm him until they promised to call a carriage. The Vehicle rolled
+      into the court, and while Pere Alexis was kept back in his shop at the
+      point of a revolver, Rouletabille quietly got in, smoking his pipe. The
+      man who appeared to be the chief of the band (the gentleman of the Neva)
+      got in too and sat down beside him. The carriage windows were shuttered,
+      preventing all communication with the outside, and only a tiny lantern
+      lighted the interior. They started. The carriage was driven by two men in
+      brown coats trimmed with false astrakhan. The dvornicks saluted, believing
+      it a police affair. The concierge made the sign of the cross.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The journey lasted several hours without other incidents than those
+      brought about by the tremendous jolts, which threw the two passengers
+      inside one on top of the other. This might have made an opening for
+      conversation; and the &ldquo;gentleman of the Neva&rdquo; tried it; but in vain.
+      Rouletabille would not respond. At one moment, indeed, the gentleman, who
+      was growing bored, became so pressing that the reporter finally said in
+      the curt tone he always used when he was irritated:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pray you, monsieur, let me smoke my pipe in peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon which the gentleman prudently occupied himself in lowering one of the
+      windows, for it grew stifling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally, after much jolting, there was a stop while the horses were
+      changed and the gentleman asked Rouletabille to let himself be
+      blindfolded. &ldquo;The moment has come; they are going to hang me without any
+      form of trial,&rdquo; thought the reporter, and when, blinded with the bandage,
+      he felt himself lifted under the arms, there was revolt of his whole
+      being, that being which, now that it was on the point of dying, did not
+      wish to cease. Rouletabille would have believed himself stronger, more
+      courageous, more stoical at least. But blind instinct swept all of this
+      away, that instinct of conservation which had no concern with the minor
+      bravadoes of the reporter, no concern with the fine heroic manner, of the
+      determined pose to die finely, because the instinct of conservation, which
+      is, as its rigid name indicates, essentially materialistic, demands only,
+      thinks of nothing but, to live. And it was that instinct which made
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s last pipe die out unpuffed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man was furious with himself, and he grew pale with the fear
+      that he might not succeed in mastering this emotion, he took fierce hold
+      of himself and his members, which had stiffened at the contact of seizure
+      by rough hands, relaxed, and he allowed himself to be led. Truly, he was
+      disgusted with his faintness and weakness. He had seen men die who knew
+      they were going to die. His task as reporter had led him more than once to
+      the foot of the guillotine. And the wretches he had seen there had died
+      bravely. Extraordinarily enough, the most criminal had ordinarily met
+      death most bravely. Of course, they had had leisure to prepare themselves,
+      thinking a long time in advance of that supreme moment. But they affronted
+      death, came to it almost negligently, found strength even to say banal or
+      taunting things to those around them. He recalled above all a boy of
+      eighteen years old who had cowardly murdered an old woman and two children
+      in a back-country farm, and had walked to his death without a tremor,
+      talking reassuringly to the priest and the police official, who walked
+      almost sick with horror on either side of him. Could he, then, not be as
+      brave as that child?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They made him mount some steps and he felt that he had entered the stuffy
+      atmosphere of a closed room. Then someone removed the bandage. He was in a
+      room of sinister aspect and in the midst of a rather large company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Within these naked, neglected walls there were about thirty young men,
+      some of them apparently quite as young as Rouletabille, with candid blue
+      eyes and pale complexions. The others, older men, were of the physical
+      type of Christs, not the animated Christs of Occidental painters, but
+      those that are seen on the panels of the Byzantine school or fastened on
+      the ikons, sculptures of silver or gold. Their long hair, deeply parted in
+      the middle, fell upon their shoulders in curl-tipped golden masses. Some
+      leant against the wall, erect, and motionless. Others were seated on the
+      floor, their legs crossed. Most of them were in winter coats, bought in
+      the bazaars. But there were also men from the country, with their skins of
+      beasts, their sayons, their touloupes. One of them had his legs laced
+      about with cords and was shod with twined willow twigs. The contrast
+      afforded by various ones of these grave and attentive figures showed that
+      representatives from the entire revolutionary party were present. At the
+      back of the room, behind a table, three young men were seated, and the
+      oldest of them was not more than twenty-five and had the benign beauty of
+      Jesus on feast-days, canopied by consecrated palms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the center of the room a small table stood, quite bare and without any
+      apparent purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the right was another table with paper, pens and ink-stands. It was
+      there that Rouletabille was conducted and asked to be seated. Then he saw
+      that another man was at his side, who was required to keep standing. His
+      face was pale and desperate, very drawn. His eyes burned somberly, in
+      spite of the panic that deformed his features Rouletabille recognized one
+      of the unintroduced friends whom Gounsovski had brought with him to the
+      supper at Krestowsky. Evidently since then the always-threatening
+      misfortune had fallen upon him. They were proceeding with his trial. The
+      one who seemed to preside over these strange sessions pronounced a name:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annouchka!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A door opened, and Annouchka appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille hardly recognized her, she was so strangely dressed, like the
+      Russian poor, with her under-jacket of red-flannel and the handkerchief
+      which, knotted under her chin, covered all her beautiful hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She immediately testified in Russian against the man, who protested until
+      they compelled him to be silent. She drew from her pocket papers which
+      were read aloud, and which appeared to crush the accused. He fell back
+      onto his seat. He shivered. He hid his head in his hands, and Rouletabille
+      saw the hands tremble. The man kept that position while the other
+      witnesses were heard, their testimony arousing murmurs of indignation that
+      were quickly checked. Annouchka had gone to take her place with the others
+      against the wall, in the shadows which more and more invaded the room, at
+      this ending of a lugubrious day. Two windows reaching to the floor let a
+      wan light creep with difficulty through their dirty panes, making a vague
+      twilight in the room. Soon nothing could be seen of the motionless figures
+      against the wall, much as the faces fade in the frescoes from which the
+      centuries have effaced the colors in the depths of orthodox convents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now someone from the depths of the shadow and the appalling silence read
+      something; the verdict, doubtless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The voice ceased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then some of the figures detached themselves from the wall and advanced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man who crouched near Rouletabille rose in a savage bound and cried
+      out rapidly, wild words, supplicating words, menacing words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then&mdash;nothing more but strangling gasps. The figures that had
+      moved out from the wall had clutched his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter said, &ldquo;It is cowardly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Annouchka&rsquo;s voice, low, from the depths of shadow, replied, &ldquo;It is just.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Rouletabille was satisfied with having said that, for he had proved to
+      himself that he could still speak. His emotion had been such, since they
+      had pushed him into the center of this sinister and expeditious
+      revolutionary assembly of justice, that he thought of nothing but the
+      terror of not being able to speak to them, to say something to them, no
+      matter what, which would prove to them that he had no fear. Well, that was
+      over. He had not failed to say, &ldquo;That is cowardly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he crossed his arms. But he soon had to turn away his head in order
+      not to see the use the table was put to that stood in the center of the
+      room, where it had seemed to serve no purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had lifted the man, still struggling, up onto the little table. They
+      placed a rope about his neck. Then one of the &ldquo;judges,&rdquo; one of the blond
+      young men, who seemed no older than Rouletabille, climbed on the table and
+      slipped the other end of the rope through a great ring-bolt that projected
+      from a beam of the ceiling. During this time the man struggled futilely,
+      and his death-rattle rose at last though the continued noise of his
+      resistance and its overcoming. But his last breath came with so violent a
+      shake of the body that the whole death-apparatus, rope and ring-bolt,
+      separated from the ceiling, and rolled to the ground with the dead man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille uttered a cry of horror. &ldquo;You are assassins!&rdquo; he cried. But
+      was the man surely dead? It was this that the pale figures with the yellow
+      hair set themselves to make sure of. He was. Then they brought two sacks
+      and the dead man was slipped into one of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille said to them:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are braver when you kill by an explosion, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He regretted bitterly that he had not died the night before in the
+      explosion. He did not feel very brave. He talked to them bravely enough,
+      but he trembled as his time approached. That death horrified him. He tried
+      to keep from looking at the other sack. He took the two ikons, of Saint
+      Luke and of the Virgin, from his pocket and prayed to them. He thought of
+      the Lady in Black and wept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A voice in the shadows said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is crying, the poor little fellow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Annouchka&rsquo;s voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille dried his tears and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs, one of you must have a mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But all the voices cried:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, we have mothers no more!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have killed them,&rdquo; cried some. &ldquo;They have sent them to Siberia,&rdquo;
+       cried others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I have a mother still,&rdquo; said the poor lad. &ldquo;I will not have the
+      opportunity to embrace her. It is a mother that I lost the day of my birth
+      and that I have found again, but&mdash;I suppose it is to be said&mdash;on
+      the day of my death. I shall not see her again. I have a friend; I shall
+      not see him again either. I have two little ikons here for them, and I am
+      going to write a letter to each of them, if you will permit it. Swear to
+      me that you will see these reach them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I swear it,&rdquo; said, in French, the voice of Annouchka.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks, madame, you are kind. And now, messieurs, that is all I ask of
+      you. I know I am here to reply to very grave accusations. Permit me to say
+      to you at once that I admit them all to be well founded. Consequently,
+      there need be no discussion between us. I have deserved death and I accept
+      it. So permit me not to concern myself with what will be going on here. I
+      ask of you simply, as a last favor, not to hasten your preparations too
+      much, so that I may be able to finish my letters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon which, satisfied with himself this time, he sat down again and
+      commenced to write rapidly. They left him in peace, as he desired. He did
+      not raise his head once, even at the moment when a murmur louder than
+      usual showed that the hearers regarded Rouletabille&rsquo;s crimes with especial
+      detestation. He had the happiness of having entirely completed his
+      correspondence when they asked him to rise to hear judgment pronounced
+      upon him. The supreme communion that he had just had with his friend
+      Sainclair and with the dear Lady in Black restored all his spirit to him.
+      He listened respectfully to the sentence which condemned him to death,
+      though he was busy sliding his tongue along the gummed edge of his
+      envelope.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+These were the counts on which he was to be hanged:
+
+   1. Because he had come to Russia and mixed in affairs that did not
+       concern his nationality, and had done this in spite of warning
+       to remain in France.
+
+   2. Because he had not kept the promises of neutrality he freely
+       made to a representative of the Central Revolutionary Committee.
+
+   3. For trying to penetrate the mystery of the Trebassof datcha.
+
+   4. For having Comrade Matiew whipped and imprisoned by Koupriane.
+
+   5. For having denounced to Koupriane the identity of the two
+       &ldquo;doctors&rdquo; who had been assigned to kill General Trebassof.
+
+   6. For having caused the arrest of Natacha Feodorovna.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      It was a list longer than was needed for his doom. Rouletabille kissed his
+      ikons and handed them to Annouchka along with the letters. Then he
+      declared, with his lips trembling slightly, and a cold sweat on his
+      forehead, that he was ready to submit to his fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVII. THE LAST CRAVAT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The gentleman of the Neva said to him: &ldquo;If you have nothing further to
+      say, we will go into the courtyard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille understood at last that hanging him in the room where
+      judgment had been pronounced was rendered impossible by the violence of
+      the prisoner just executed. Not only the rope and the ring-bolt had been
+      torn away, but part of the beam had splintered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing more,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was mistaken. Something occurred to him, an idea flashed so suddenly
+      that he became white as his shirt, and had to lean on the arm of the
+      gentleman of the Neva in order to accompany him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door was open. All the men who had voted his death filed out in gloomy
+      silence. The gentleman of the Neva, who seemed charged with the last
+      offices for the prisoner, pushed him gently out into the court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was vast, and surrounded by a high board wall; some small buildings,
+      with closed doors, stood to right and left. A high chimney, partially
+      demolished, rose from one corner. Rouletabille decided the whole place was
+      part of some old abandoned mill. Above his head the sky was pale as a
+      winding sheet. A thunderous, intermittent, rhythmical noise appraised him
+      that he could not be far from the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had plenty of time to note all these things, for they had stopped the
+      march to execution a moment and had made him sit down in the open
+      courtyard on an old box. A few steps away from him under the shed where he
+      certainly was going to be hanged, a man got upon a stool (the stool that
+      would serve Rouletabille a few moments later) with his arm raised, and
+      drove with a few blows of a mallet a great ring-bolt into a beam above his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter&rsquo;s eyes, which had not lost their habit of taking everything
+      in, rested again on a coarse canvas sack that lay on the ground. The young
+      man felt a slight tremor, for he saw quickly that the sack swathed a human
+      form. He turned his head away, but only to confront another empty sack
+      that was intended for him. Then he closed his eyes. The sound of music
+      came from somewhere outside, notes of the balalaika. He said to himself,
+      &ldquo;Well, we certainly are in Finland&rdquo;; for he knew that, if the guzla is
+      Russian the balalaika certainly is Finnish. It is a kind of accordeon that
+      the peasants pick plaintively in the doorways of their toubas. He had seen
+      and heard them the afternoon that he went to Pergalovo, and also a little
+      further away, on the Viborg line. He pictured to himself the ruined
+      structure where he now found himself shut in with the revolutionary
+      tribunal, as it must appear from the outside to passers-by; unsinister,
+      like many others near it, sheltering under its decaying roof a few homes
+      of humble workers, resting now as they played the balalaika at their
+      thresholds, with the day&rsquo;s labor over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And suddenly from the ineffable peace of his last evening, while the
+      balalaika mourned and the man overhead tested the solidity of his
+      ring-bolt, a voice outside, the grave, deep voice of Annouchka, sang for
+      the little Frenchman:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;For whom weave we now the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+     When my hand falls lingering down
+     Who then will bring your crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+
+     O that someone among you would hear,
+     And come, and my lonely hand
+     Would press, and shed the friendly tear&mdash;
+     For alone at the end I stand.
+
+     Who now will bring the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille listened to the voice dying away with the last sob of the
+      balalaika. &ldquo;It is too sad,&rdquo; he said, rising. &ldquo;Let us go,&rdquo; and he wavered a
+      little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They came to search him. All was ready above. They pushed him gently
+      towards the shed. When he was under the ring-bolt, near the stool, they
+      made him turn round and they read him something in Russian, doubtless less
+      for him than for those there who did not understand French. Rouletabille
+      had hard work to hold himself erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentleman of the Neva said to him further:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, we now read you the final formula. It asks you to say whether,
+      before you die, you have anything you wish to add to what we know
+      concerning the sentence which has been passed upon you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille thought that his saliva, which at that moment he had the
+      greatest difficulty in swallowing, would not permit him to utter a word.
+      But disdain of such a weakness, when he recalled the coolness of so many
+      illustrious condemned people in their last moments, brought him the last
+      strength needed to maintain his reputation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this sentence is not wrongly drawn up. I blame it only
+      for being too short. Why has there been no mention of the crime I
+      committed in contriving the tragic death of poor Michael Korsakoff?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael Korsakoff was a wretch,&rdquo; pronounced the vindictive voice of the
+      young man who had presided at the trial and who, at this supreme moment,
+      happened to be face to face with Rouletabille. &ldquo;Koupriane&rsquo;s police, by
+      killing that man, ridded us of a traitor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille uttered a cry, a cry of joy, and while he had some reason for
+      believing that at the point he had reached now of his too-short career
+      only misfortune could befall him, yet here Providence, in his infinite
+      grace, sent him before he died this ineffable consolation: the certainty
+      that he had not been mistaken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, pardon,&rdquo; he murmured, in an excess of joy which stifled him
+      almost as much as the wretched rope would shortly do that they were
+      getting ready behind him. &ldquo;Pardon. One second yet, one little second.
+      Then, messieurs, then, we are agreed in that, are we? This Michael,
+      Michael Nikolaievitch was the the last of traitors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first,&rdquo; said the heavy voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the same thing, my dear monsieur. A traitor, a wretched traitor,&rdquo;
+       continued Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A poisoner,&rdquo; replied the voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A vulgar poisoner! Is that not so? But, tell me how&mdash;a vulgar
+      poisoner who, under cover of Nihilism, worked for his own petty ends,
+      worked for himself and betrayed you all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Rouletabille&rsquo;s voice rose like a fanfare. Someone said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did not deceive us long; our enemies themselves undertook his
+      punishment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was I,&rdquo; cried Rouletabille, radiant again. &ldquo;It was I who wound up that
+      career. I tell you that was managed right. It was I who rid you of him.
+      Ah, I knew well enough, messieurs, in the bottom of my heart I knew that I
+      could not be mistaken. Two and two make four always, don&rsquo;t they? And
+      Rouletabille is always Rouletabille. Messieurs, it is all right, after
+      all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was probable that it was also all wrong, for the gentleman of the
+      Neva came up to him hat in hand and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, you know now why the witnesses at your trial did not raise a
+      fact against you that, on the contrary, was entirely in your favor. Now it
+      only remains for us to execute the sentence which is entirely justified on
+      other grounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but&mdash;wait a little. What the devil! Now that I am sure I have
+      not been mistaken and that I have been myself, Rouletabille, all the time
+      I cling to life a little&mdash;oh, very much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hostile murmur showed the condemned man that the patience of his judges
+      was getting near its limit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; interposed the president, &ldquo;we know that you do not belong to
+      the orthodox religion; nevertheless, we will bring a priest if you wish
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, that is it, go for the priest,&rdquo; cried Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he said to himself, &ldquo;It is so much time gained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the revolutionaries started over to a little cabin that had been
+      transformed into a chapel, while the rest of them looked at the reporter
+      with a good deal less sympathy than they had been showing. If his bravado
+      had impressed them agreeably in the trial room, they were beginning to be
+      rather disgusted by his cries, his protestations and all the maneuvers by
+      which he so apparently was trying to hold off the hour of his death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But all at once Rouletabille jumped up onto the fatal stool. They believed
+      he had decided finally to make an end of the comedy and die with dignity;
+      but he had mounted there only to give them a discourse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs, understand me now. If it is true that you are not suppressing
+      me in order to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch, then why do you hang me? Why
+      do you inflict this odious punishment on me? Because you accuse me of
+      causing Natacha Feodorovna&rsquo;s arrest? Truly I have been awkward. Of that,
+      and that alone, I accuse myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was you, with your revolver, who gave the signal to Koupriane&rsquo;s
+      agents! You have done the dirty work for the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille tried vainly to protest, to explain, to say that his revolver
+      shot, on the contrary, had saved the revolutionaries. But no one cared to
+      listen and no one believed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the priest, monsieur,&rdquo; said the gentleman of the Neva.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One second! These are my last words, and I swear to you that after this I
+      will pass the rope about my neck myself! But listen to me! Listen to me
+      closely! Natacha Feodorovna was the most precious recruit you had, was she
+      not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A veritable treasure,&rdquo; declared the president, his voice more and more
+      impatient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was a terrible blow, then,&rdquo; continued the reporter, &ldquo;a terrible blow
+      for you, this arrest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Terrible,&rdquo; some of them ejaculated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not interrupt me! Very well, then, I am going to say this to you: &lsquo;If
+      I ward off this blow&mdash;if, after having been the unintentional cause
+      of Natacha&rsquo;s arrest, I have the daughter of General Trebassof set at
+      liberty, and that within twenty-four hours,&mdash;what do you say? Would
+      you still hang me?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The president, he who had the Christ-like countenance, said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna has fallen the victim of terrible
+      machinations whose mystery we so far have not been able to penetrate. She
+      is accused of trying to poison her father and her step-mother, and under
+      such conditions that it seems impossible for human reason to demonstrate
+      the contrary. Natacha Feodorovna herself, crushed by the tragic
+      occurrence, was not able to answer her accusers at all, and her silence
+      has been taken for a confession of guilt. Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna
+      will be started for Siberia to-morrow. We can do nothing for her. Natacha
+      Feodorovna is lost to us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, with a gesture to those who surrounded Rouletabille:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do your duty, messieurs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, pardon. But if I do prove the innocence of Natacha? Just wait,
+      messieurs. There is only I who can prove that innocence! You lose Natacha
+      by killing me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you had been able to prove that innocence, monsieur, the thing would
+      already be done. You would not have waited.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, pardon. It is only at this moment that I have become able to do
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is because I was sick, you see&mdash;very seriously sick. That affair
+      of Michael Nikolaievitch and the poison that still continued after he was
+      dead simply robbed me of all my powers. Now that I am sure I have not been
+      the means of killing an innocent man&mdash;I am Rouletabille again! It is
+      not possible that I shall not find the way, that I shall not see through
+      this mystery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The terrible voice of the Christ-like figure said monotonously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do your duty, messieurs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, pardon. This is of great importance to you&mdash;and the proof is
+      that you have not yet hanged me. You were not so procrastinating with my
+      predecessor, were you? You have listened to me because you have hoped!
+      Very well, let me think, let me consider. Oh, the devil! I was there
+      myself at the fatal luncheon, and I know better than anyone else all that
+      happened there. Five minutes! I demand five minutes of you; it is not
+      much. Five little minutes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These last words of the condemned man seemed to singularly influence the
+      revolutionaries. They looked at one another in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the president took out his watch and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five minutes. We grant them to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Put your watch here. Here on this nail. It is five minutes to seven, eh?
+      You will give me until the hour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, until the hour. The watch itself will strike when the hour has
+      come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, it strikes! Like the general&rsquo;s watch, then. Very well, here we are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there was the curious spectacle of Rouletabille standing on the
+      hangman&rsquo;s stool, the fatal rope hanging above his head, his legs crossed,
+      his elbow on his knees in that eternal attitude which Art has always given
+      to human thought, his fists under his jaws, his eyes fixed&mdash;all
+      around him, all those young men intent on his silence, not moving a
+      muscle, turned into statues themselves that they might not disturb the
+      statue which thought and thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVIII. A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The five minutes ticked away and the watch commenced to strike the hour&rsquo;s
+      seven strokes. Did it sound the death of Rouletabille? Perhaps not! For at
+      the first silver tinkle they saw Rouletabille shake himself, and raise his
+      head, with his face alight and his eyes shining. They saw him stand up,
+      spread out his arms and cry:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have found it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Such joy shone in his countenance that there seemed to be an aureole
+      around him, and none of those there doubted that he had the solution of
+      the impossible problem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have found it! I have found it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They gathered around him. He waved them away as in a waking dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me room. I have found it, if my experiment works out. One, two,
+      three, four, five...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      What was he doing? He counted his steps now, in long paces, as in dueling
+      preliminaries. And the others, all of them, followed him in silence,
+      puzzled, but without protest, as if they, too, were caught in the same
+      strange day-dream. Steadily counting his steps he crossed thus the court,
+      which was vast. &ldquo;Forty, forty-one, forty-two,&rdquo; he cried excitedly. &ldquo;This
+      is certainly strange, and very promising.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The others, although they did not understand, refrained from questioning
+      him, for they saw there was nothing to do but let him go ahead without
+      interruption, just as care is taken not to wake a somnambulist abruptly.
+      They had no mistrust of his motives, for the idea was simply untenable
+      that Rouletabille was fool enough to hope to save himself from them by an
+      imbecile subterfuge. No, they yielded to the impression his inspired
+      countenance gave them, and several were so affected that they
+      unconsciously repeated his gestures. Thus Rouletabille reached the edge of
+      the court where judgment had been pronounced against him. There he had to
+      mount a rickety flight of stairs, whose steps he counted. He reached a
+      corridor, but moving away from the side where the door was opening to the
+      exterior he turned toward a staircase leading to the upper floor, and
+      still counted the steps as he climbed them. Some of the company followed
+      him, others hurried ahead of him. But he did not seem aware of either the
+      one or the other, as he walked along living only in his thoughts. He
+      reached the landing-place, hesitated, pushed open a door, and found
+      himself in a room furnished with a table, two chairs, a mattress and a
+      huge cupboard. He went to the cupboard, turned the key and opened it. The
+      cupboard was empty. He closed it again and put the key in his pocket. Then
+      he went out onto the landing-place again. There he asked for the key of
+      the chamber-door he had just left. They gave it to him and he locked that
+      door and put that key also in his pocket. Now he returned into the court.
+      He asked for a chair. It was brought him. Immediately he placed his head
+      in his hands, thinking hard, took the chair and carried it over a little
+      behind the shed. The Nihilists watched everything he did and they did not
+      smile, because men do not smile when death waits at the end of things,
+      however foolish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally, Rouletabille spoke:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs,&rdquo; said he, his voice low and shaken, because he knew that now
+      he touched the decisive minute, after which there could only be an
+      irrevocable fate. &ldquo;Messieurs, in order to continue my experiment I am
+      obliged to go through movements that might suggest to you the idea of an
+      attempt at escape, or evasion. I hope you don&rsquo;t regard me as fool enough
+      to have any such thought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, monsieur,&rdquo; said the chief, &ldquo;you are free to go through all the
+      maneuvers you wish. No one escapes us. Outside we should have you within
+      arm&rsquo;s reach quite as well as here. And, besides, it is entirely impossible
+      to escape from here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well. Then that is understood. In such a case, I ask you now to
+      remain just where you are and not to budge, whatever I do, if you don&rsquo;t
+      wish to inconvenience me. Only please send someone now up to the next
+      floor, where I am going to go again, and let him watch what happens from
+      there, but without interfering. And don&rsquo;t speak a word to me during the
+      experiment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two of the revolutionaries went to the upper floor, and opened a window in
+      order to keep track of what went on in the court. All now showed their
+      intense interest in the acts and gestures of Rouletabille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter placed himself in the shed, between his death-stool and his
+      hanging-rope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ready,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;I am going to begin&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And suddenly he jumped like a wild man, crossed the court in a straight
+      line like a flash, disappeared in the touba, bounded up the staircase,
+      felt in his pocket and drew out the keys, opened the door of the chamber
+      he had locked, closed it and locked it again, turned right-about-face,
+      came down again in the same haste, reached the court, and this time
+      swerved to the chair, went round it, still running, and returned at the
+      same speed to the shed. He no sooner reached there than he uttered a cry
+      of triumph as he glanced at the watch banging from a post. &ldquo;I have won,&rdquo;
+       he said, and threw himself with a happy thrill upon the fatal scaffold.
+      They surrounded him, and he read the liveliest curiosity in all their
+      faces. Panting still from his mad rush, he asked for two words apart with
+      the chief of the Secret committee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man who had pronounced judgment and who had the bearing of Jesus
+      advanced, and there was a brief exchange of words between the two young
+      men. The others drew back and waited at a distance, in impressive silence,
+      the outcome of this mysterious colloquy, which certainly would settle
+      Rouletabille&rsquo;s fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs,&rdquo; said the chief, &ldquo;the young Frenchman is going to be allowed
+      to leave. We give him twenty-four hours to set Natacha Feodorovna free. In
+      twenty-four hours, if he has not succeeded, he will return here to give
+      himself up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A happy murmur greeted these words. The moment their chief spoke thus,
+      they felt sure of Natacha&rsquo;s fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chief added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As the liberation of Natacha Feodorovna will be followed, the young
+      Frenchman says, by that of our companion Matiew, we decide that, if these
+      two conditions are fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille is allowed to return
+      in entire security to France, which he ought never to have left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two or three only of the group said, &ldquo;That lad is playing with us; it is
+      not possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the chief declared:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let the lad try. He accomplishes miracles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIX. THE TSAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have escaped by remarkable luck,&rdquo; cried Rouletabille, as he found
+      himself, in the middle of the night, at the corner of the Katharine and
+      the Aptiekarski Pereoulok Canals, while the mysterious carriage which had
+      brought him there returned rapidly toward the Grande Ecurie. &ldquo;What a
+      country! What a country!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He ran a little way to the Grand Morskaia, which was near, entered the
+      hotel like a bomb, dragged the interpreter from his bed, demanded that his
+      bill be made out and that he be told the time of the next train for
+      Tsarskoie-Coelo. The interpreter told him that he could not have his bill
+      at such an hour, that he could not leave town without his passport and
+      that there was no train for Tsarskoie-Coelo, and Rouletabille made an
+      outcry that woke the whole hotel. The guests, fearing always &ldquo;une
+      scandale,&rdquo; kept close to their rooms. But Monsieur le directeur came down,
+      trembling. When he found all that it was about he was inclined to be
+      peremptory, but Rouletabille, who had seen &ldquo;Michael Strogoff&rdquo; played,
+      cried, &ldquo;Service of the Tsar!&rdquo; which turned him submissive as a sheep. He
+      made out the young man&rsquo;s bill and gave him his passport, which had been
+      brought back by the police during the afternoon. Rouletabille rapidly
+      wrote a message to Koupriane&rsquo;s address, which the messenger was directed
+      to have delivered without a moment&rsquo;s delay, under the pain of death! The
+      manager humbly promised and the reporter did not explain that by &ldquo;pain of
+      death&rdquo; he referred to his own. Then, having ascertained that as a matter
+      of fact the last train had left for Tsarskoie-Coelo, he ordered a carriage
+      and hurried to his room to pack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he, ordinarily so detailed, so particular in his affairs, threw things
+      every which way, linen, garments, with kicks and shoves. It was a relief
+      after the emotions he had gone through. &ldquo;What a country!&rdquo; he never ceased
+      to ejaculate. &ldquo;What a country!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the carriage was ready, with two little Finnish horses, whose gait he
+      knew well, an evil-looking driver, who none the less would get him there;
+      the trunk; roubles to the domestics. &ldquo;Spacibo, barine. Spacibo.&rdquo; (Thank
+      you, monsieur. Thank you.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The interpreter asked what address he should give the driver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The home of the Tsar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The interpreter hesitated, believing it to be an unbecoming pleasantry,
+      then waved vaguely to the driver, and the horses started.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a curious trot! We have no idea of that in France,&rdquo; thought
+      Rouletabille. &ldquo;France! France! Paris! Is it possible that soon I shall be
+      back! And that dear Lady in Black! Ah, at the first opportunity I must
+      send her a dispatch of my return&mdash;before she receives those ikons,
+      and the letters announcing my death. Scan! Scan! Scan! (Hurry!)&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The isvotchick pounded his horses, crowding past the dvornicks who watched
+      at the corners of the houses during the St. Petersburg night. &ldquo;Dirigi!
+      dirigi! dirigi! (Look out!)&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The country, somber in the somber night. The vast open country. What
+      monotonous desolation! Rapidly, through the vast silent spaces, the little
+      car glided over the lonely route into the black arms of the pines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille, holding on to his seat, looked about him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God! this is as sad as a funeral display.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Little frozen huts, no larger than tombs, occasionally indicated the road,
+      but there was no mark of life in that country except the noise of the
+      journey and the two beasts with steaming coats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Crack! One of the shafts broken. &ldquo;What a country!&rdquo; To hear Rouletabille
+      one would suppose that only in Russia could the shaft of a carriage break.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The repair was difficult and crude, with bits of rope. And from then on
+      the journey was slow and cautious after the frenzied speed. In vain
+      Rouletabille reasoned with himself. &ldquo;You will arrive anyway before
+      morning. You cannot wake the Emperor in the dead of night.&rdquo; His impatience
+      knew no reason. &ldquo;What a country! What a country!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After some other petty adventures (they ran into a ravine and had
+      tremendous difficulty rescuing the trunk) they arrived at Tsarskoie-Coelo
+      at a quarter of seven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even here the country was not pleasant. Rouletabille recalled the bright
+      awakening of French country. Here it seemed there was something more dead
+      than death: it was this little city with its streets where no one passed,
+      not a soul, not a phantom, with its houses so impenetrable, the windows
+      even of glazed glass and further blinded by the morning hoar-frost
+      shutting out light more thoroughly than closed eyelids. Behind them he
+      pictured to himself a world unknown, a world which neither spoke nor wept,
+      nor laughed, a world in which no living chord resounded. &ldquo;What a country!
+      &lsquo;Where is the chateau? I do not know; I have been here only once, in the
+      marshal&rsquo;s carriage. I do not know the way. Not the great palace! The idiot
+      of a driver has brought me to this great palace in order to see it, I
+      haven&rsquo;t a doubt. Does Rouletabille look like a tourist? Dourak! The home
+      of the Tsar, I tell you. The Tsar&rsquo;s residence. The place where the Little
+      Father lives. Chez Batouchka!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver lashed his ponies. He drove past all the streets. &ldquo;Stoi!
+      (Stop!)&rdquo; cried Rouletabille. A gate, a soldier, musket at shoulder,
+      bayonet in play; another gate, another soldier, another bayonet; a park
+      with walls around it, and around the walls more soldiers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No mistake; here is the place,&rdquo; thought Rouletabille. There was only one
+      prisoner for whom such pains would be taken. He advanced towards the gate.
+      Ah! They crossed bayonets under his nose. Halt! No fooling, Joseph
+      Rouletabille, of &ldquo;L&rsquo;Epoque.&rdquo; A subaltern came from a guard-house and
+      advanced toward him. Explanation evidently was going to be difficult. The
+      young man saw that if he demanded to see the Tsar, they would think him
+      crazed and that would further complicate matters. He asked for the
+      Grand-Marshal of the Court. They replied that he could get the Marshal&rsquo;s
+      address in Tsarskoie. But the subaltern turned his head. He saw someone
+      advancing. It was the Grand-Marshal himself. Some exceptional service
+      called him, without doubt, very early to the Court.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what are you doing here? You are not yet gone then, Monsieur
+      Rouletabille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Politeness before everything, Monsieur le Grand-Marechal! I would not go
+      before saying &lsquo;Au revoir&rsquo; to the Emperor. Be so good, since you are going
+      to him and he has risen (you yourself have told me he rises at seven), be
+      so good as to say to him that I wish to pay my respects before leaving.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your scheme, doubtless, is to speak to him once more regarding Natacha
+      Feodorovna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all. Tell him, Excellency, that I am come to explain the mystery
+      of the eider downs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, ah, the eider downs! You know something?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Grand Marshal saw that the young man did not pretend. He asked him to
+      wait a few minutes, and vanished into the park.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A quarter of an hour later, Joseph Rouletabille, of the journal
+      &ldquo;L&rsquo;Epoque,&rdquo; was admitted into the cabinet that he knew well from the first
+      interview he had had there with His Majesty. The simple work-room of a
+      country-house: a few pictures on the walls, portraits of the Tsarina and
+      the imperial children on the table; Oriental cigarettes in the tiny gold
+      cups. Rouletabille was far from feeling any assurance, for the
+      Grand-Marshal had said to him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be cautious. The Emperor is in a terrible humor about you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A door opened and closed. The Tsar made a sign to the Marshal, who
+      disappeared. Rouletabille bowed low, then watched the Emperor closely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite apparently His Majesty was displeased. The face of the Tsar,
+      ordinarily so calm, so pleasant, and smiling, was severe, and his eyes had
+      an angry light. He seated himself and lighted a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; he commenced, &ldquo;I am not otherwise sorry to see you before your
+      departure in order to say to you myself that I am not at all pleased with
+      you. If you were one of my subjects I would have already started you on
+      the road to the Ural Mountains.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remove myself farther, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, I pray you not to interrupt me and not to speak unless I ask
+      you a question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not duped by the pretext you have offered Monsieur le Grand-Marechal
+      in order to penetrate here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not a pretext, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say to you that, called here to aid me against my enemies, they
+      themselves have not found a stronger or more criminal support than in
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what am I accused, Sire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Koupriane&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Ah! ... Pardon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My Chief of Police justly complains that you have traversed all his
+      designs and that you have taken it upon yourself to ruin them. First, you
+      removed his agents, who inconvenienced you, it seems; then, the moment
+      that he had the proof in hand of the abominable alliance of Natacha
+      Feodorovna with the Nihilists who attempt the assassination of her father
+      your intervention has permitted that proof to escape him. And you have
+      boasted of the feat, monsieur, so that we can only consider you
+      responsible for the attempts that followed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without you, Natacha would not have attempted to poison her father.
+      Without you, they would not have sent to find physicians who could blow up
+      the datcha des Iles. Finally, no later than yesterday, when this faithful
+      servant of mine had set a trap they could not have escaped from, you have
+      had the audacity, you, to warn them of it. They owe their escape to you.
+      Monsieur, those are attempts against the security of the State which
+      deserves the heaviest punishment. Why, you went out one day from here
+      promising me to save General Trebassof from all the plotting assassins who
+      lurked about him. And then you play the game of the assassins! Your
+      conduct is as miserable as that of Natacha Feodorovna is monstrous!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor ceased, and looked at Rouletabille, who had not lowered his
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What can you say for yourself? Speak&mdash;now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can only say to Your Majesty that I come to take leave of you because
+      my task here is finished. I have promised you the life of General
+      Trebassof, and I bring it to you. He runs no danger any more! I say
+      further to Your Majesty that there exists nowhere in the world a daughter
+      more devoted to her father, even to the death, a daughter more sublime
+      than Natacha Feodorovna, nor more innocent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be careful, monsieur. I inform you that I have studied this affair
+      personally and very closely. You have the proofs of these statements you
+      advance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, I have the proofs that Natacha Feodorovna is a renegade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this contradiction, uttered in a firm voice, the Emperor stirred, a
+      flush of anger and of outraged majesty in his face. But, after this first
+      movement, he succeeded in controlling himself, opened a drawer brusquely,
+      took out some papers and threw them on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here they are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille reached for the papers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not read Russian, monsieur. I will translate their purport for
+      you. Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of letters
+      between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary Committee, and
+      that these letters show the daughter of General Trebassof to be in perfect
+      accord with the assassins of her father for the execution of their
+      abominable project.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The death of the general?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+	 <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly.&rdquo;
+	 	 </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obstinate man! I will read&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Useless, Sire. It is impossible. There may be in them the question of a
+      project, but I am greatly surprised if these conspirators have been
+      sufficiently imprudent to write in those letters that they count on
+      Natacha to poison her father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, as a matter of fact, is not written, and you yourself are
+      responsible for it not being there. It does not follow any the less that
+      Natacha Feodorovna had an understanding with the Nihilists.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is correct, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you confess that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not confess; I simply affirm that Natacha had an understanding with
+      the Nihilists.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who plotted their abominable attacks against the ex-Governor of Moscow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, since Natacha had an understanding with the Nihilists, it was not
+      to kill her father, but to save him. And the project of which you hold
+      here the proofs, but of whose character you are unaware, is to end the
+      attacks of which you speak, instantly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I speak the truth, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are the proofs? Show me your papers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have none. I have only my word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be sufficient, once you have heard me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, before revealing to you a secret on which depends the life of
+      General Trebassof, you must permit me some questions. Your Majesty holds
+      the life of the general very dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has that to do with it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon. I desire that Your Majesty assure me on that point.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The general has protected my throne. He has saved the Empire from one of
+      the greatest dangers that it has ever run. If the servant who has done
+      such a service should be rewarded by death, by the punishment that the
+      enemies of my people prepare for him in the darkness, I should never
+      forgive myself. There have been too many martyrs already!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have replied to me, Sire, in such a way that you make me understand
+      there is no sacrifice&mdash;even to the sacrifice of your amour-propre the
+      greatest a ruler can suffer&mdash;no sacrifice too dear to ransom from
+      death one of these martyrs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, ah! These gentlemen lay down conditions to me! Money. Money. They
+      need money. And at how much do they rate the head of the general?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, that does not touch Your Majesty, and I never will come to offer
+      you such a bargain. That matter concerns only Natacha Feodorovna, who has
+      offered her fortune!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her fortune! But she has nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will have one at the death of the general. Now she engages to give it
+      all to the Revolutionary Committee the day the general dies&mdash;if he
+      dies a natural death!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor rose, greatly agitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Revolutionary Party! What do you tell me! The fortune of the
+      general! Eh, but these are great riches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, I have told you the secret. You alone should know it and guard it
+      forever, and I have your sacred word that, when the hour comes, you will
+      let the prize go where it is promised. If the general ever learns of such
+      a thing, such a treaty, he would easily arrange that nothing should
+      remain, and he would denounce his daughter who has saved him, and then he
+      would promptly be the prey of his enemies and yours, from whom you wish to
+      save him. I have told the secret not to the Emperor, but to the
+      representative of God on the Russian earth. I have confessed it to the
+      priest, who is bound to forget the words uttered only before God. Allow
+      Natacha Feodorovna her own way, Sire! And her father, your servant, whose
+      life is so dear to you, is saved. At the natural death of the general his
+      fortune will go to his daughter, who has disposed of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille stopped a moment to judge of the effect produced. It was not
+      good. The face of his august listener was more and more in a frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The silence continued, and now the reporter did not dare to break it. He
+      waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally, the Emperor rose and walked forward and backward across the room,
+      deep in thought. For a moment he stopped at the window and waved
+      paternally to the little Tsarevitch, who played in the park with the
+      grand-duchesses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he returned to Rouletabille and pinched his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, tell me, how have you learned all this? And who then has poisoned
+      the general and his wife, in the kiosk, if not Natacha?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Natacha is a saint. It is nothing, Sire, that she has been raised in
+      luxury, and vows herself to misery; but it is sublime that she guards in
+      her heart the secret of her sacrifice from everyone, and, in spite of all,
+      because secrecy is necessary and has been required of her. See her
+      guarding it before her father, who has been brought to believe in the
+      dishonor of his daughter, and still to be silent when a word would have
+      proved her innocent; guarding it face to face with her fiance, whom she
+      loves, and repulses because marriage is forbidden to the girl who is
+      supposed to be rich and who will be poor; guarding it, above all&mdash;and
+      guarding it still&mdash;in the depths of the dungeon, and ready to take
+      the road to Siberia under the accusation of assassination, because that
+      ignominy is necessary for the safety of her father. That, Sire&mdash;oh,
+      Sire, do you see!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you, how have you been able to penetrate into this guarded secret?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By watching her eyes. By observing, when she believed herself alone, the
+      look of terror and the gleams of love. And, beyond all, by looking at her
+      when she was looking at her father. Ah, Sire, there were moments when on
+      her mystic face one could read the wild joy and devotion of the martyr.
+      Then, by listening and by piecing together scraps of phrases inconsistent
+      with the idea of treachery, but which immediately acquired meaning if one
+      thought of the opposite, of sacrifice. Ah, that is it, Sire! Consider
+      always the alternative motive. What I finally could see myself, the
+      others, who had a fixed opinion about Natacha, could not see. And why had
+      they their fixed opinion? Simply because the idea of compromise with the
+      Nihilists aroused at once the idea of complicity! For such people it is
+      always the same thing&mdash;they never can see but the one side of the
+      situation. But, nevertheless, the situation had two sides, as all
+      situations have. The question was simple. The compromise was certain. But
+      why had Natacha compromised herself with the Nihilists? Was it necessarily
+      in order to lose her father? Might it not be, on the contrary, in order to
+      save him? When one has rendezvous with an enemy it is not necessarily to
+      enter into his game, sometimes it is to disarm him with an offer. Between
+      these two hypotheses, which I alone took the trouble to examine, I did not
+      hesitate long, because Natacha&rsquo;s every attitude proclaimed her innocence:
+      and her eyes, Sire, in which one read purity and love, prevailed always
+      with me against all the passing appearances of disgrace and crime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw that Natacha negotiated with them. But what had she to place in the
+      scales against the life of her father? Nothing&mdash;except the fortune
+      that she would have one day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some words she spoke about the impossibility of immediate marriage, about
+      poverty which could always knock at the door of any mansion, remarks that
+      I was able to overhear between Natacha and Boris Mourazoff, which to him
+      meant nothing, put me definitely on the right road. And I was not long in
+      ascertaining that the negotiations in this formidable affair were taking
+      place in the very house of Trebassof! Pursued without by the incessant
+      spying of Koupriane, who sought to surprise her in company with the
+      Nihilists, watched closely, too, by the jealous supervision of Boris, who
+      was jealous of Michael Nikolaievitch, she had to seize the only
+      opportunities possible for such negotiations, at night, in her own home,
+      the sole place where, by the very audacity of it, she was able to play her
+      part in any security.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Michael Nikolaievitch knew Annouchka. There was certainly the point of
+      departure for the negotiations which that felon-officer, traitor to all
+      sides, worked at will toward the realization of his own infamous project.
+      I do not think that Michael ever confided to Natacha that he was, from the
+      very first, the instrument of the revolutionaries. Natacha, who sought to
+      get in touch with the revolutionary party, had to entrust him with a
+      correspondence for Annouchka, following which he assumed direction of the
+      affair, deceiving the Nihilists, who, in their absolute penury, following
+      the revolt, had been seduced by the proposition of General Trebassof&rsquo;s
+      daughter, and deceiving Natacha, whom he pretended to love and by whom he
+      believed himself loved. At this point in the affair Natacha came to
+      understand that it was necessary to propitiate Michael Nikolaievitch, her
+      indispensable intermediary, and she managed to do it so well that Boris
+      Mourazoff felt the blackest jealousy. On his side, Michael came to believe
+      that Natacha would have no other husband than himself, but he did not
+      propose to marry a penniless girl! And, fatally, it followed that Natacha,
+      in that infernal intrigue, negotiated for the life of her father through
+      the agency of a man who, underhandedly, sought to strike at the general
+      himself, because the immediate death of her father before the negotiation
+      was completed would enrich Natacha, who had given Michael so much to hope.
+      That frightful tragedy, Sire, in which we have lived our most painful
+      hours, appeared to me, confident of Natacha&rsquo;s innocence, as absolutely
+      simple as for the others it seemed complicated. Natacha believed she had
+      in Michael Nikolaievitch a man who worked for her, but he worked only for
+      himself. The day that I was convinced of it, Sire, by my examination of
+      the approach to the balcony, I had a mind to warn Natacha, to go to her
+      and say, &lsquo;Get rid of that man. He will betray you. If you need an agent, I
+      am at your service.&rsquo; But that day, at Krestowsky, destiny prevented my
+      rejoining Natacha; and I must attribute it to destiny, which would not
+      permit the loss of that man. Michael Nikolaievitch, who was a traitor, was
+      too much in the &lsquo;combination,&rsquo; and if he had been rejected he would have
+      ruined everything. I caused him to disappear! The great misfortune then
+      was that Natacha, holding me responsible for the death of a man she
+      believed innocent, never wished to see me again, and, when she did see me,
+      refused to have any conversation with me because I proposed that I take
+      Michael&rsquo;s place for her with the revolutionaries. She would have nothing
+      to do with me in order to protect her secret. Meantime, the Nihilists
+      believed they were betrayed by Natacha when they learned of the death of
+      Michael, and they undertook to avenge him. They seized Natacha, and bore
+      her off by force. The unhappy girl learned then, that same evening, of the
+      attack which destroyed the datcha and, happily, still spared her father.
+      This time she reached a definite understanding with the revolutionary
+      party. Her bargain was made. I offer you for proof of it only her attitude
+      when she was arrested, and, even in that moment, her sublime silence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While Rouletabille urged his view, the Emperor let him talk on and on, and
+      now his eyes were dim.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible that Natacha has not been the accomplice, in all, of
+      Michael Nikolaievitch?&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;It was she who opened her father&rsquo;s
+      house to him that night. If she was not his accomplice she would have
+      mistrusted him, she would have watched him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, Michael Nikolaievitch was a very clever man. He knew so well how to
+      play upon Natacha, and Annouchka, in whom she placed all her hope. It was
+      from Annouchka that she wished to hold the life of her father. It was the
+      word, the signature of Annouchka that she demanded before giving her own.
+      The evening Michael Nikolaievitch died, he was charged to bring her that
+      signature. I know it, myself, because, pretending drunkenness, I was able
+      to overhear enough of a conversation between Annouchka and a man whose
+      name I must conceal. Yes, that last evening, Michael Nikolaievitch, when
+      he entered the datcha, had the signature in his pocket, but also he
+      carried the weapon or the poison with which he already had attempted and
+      was resolved to reach the father of her whom he believed was assuredly to
+      be his wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak now of a paper, very precious, that I regret not to possess,
+      monsieur,&rdquo; said the Tsar coldly, &ldquo;because that paper alone would have
+      proved to me the innocence of your protegee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you have not it, Sire, you know well that it is because I have wished
+      you to have it. The corpse had been searched by Katharina, the little
+      Bohemian, and I, Sire, prevented Koupriane from finding that signature in
+      Katharina&rsquo;s possession. In saving the secret I have saved General
+      Trebassof&rsquo;s life, who would have preferred to die rather than accept such
+      an arrangement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Tsar stopped Rouletabille in his enthusiastic outburst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All that would be very beautiful and perhaps admirable,&rdquo; said he, more
+      and more coldly, because he had entirely recovered himself, &ldquo;if Natacha
+      had not, herself, with her own hand, poisoned her father and her
+      step-mother!&mdash;always with arsenate of soda.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, some of that had been left in the house,&rdquo; replied Rouletabille. &ldquo;They
+      had not given me all of it for the analysis after the first attempt. But
+      Natacha is innocent of that, Sire. I swear it to you. As true as that I
+      have certainly escaped being hanged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, hanged?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it has not amounted to much now, Your Majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Rouletabille recounted his sinister adventure, up to the moment of his
+      death, or, rather, up to the moment when he had believed he was going to
+      die.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor listened to the young reporter with complete stupefaction. He
+      murmured, &ldquo;Poor lad!&rdquo; then, suddenly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how have you managed to escape them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire they have given me twenty-four hours for you to set Natacha at
+      liberty, that is to say, that you restore her to her rights, all her
+      rights, and she be always the recognized heiress of Trebassof. Do you
+      understand me, Sire?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will understand you, perhaps, when you have explained to me how Natacha
+      has not poisoned her father and step-mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are some things so simple, Sire, that one is able to think of them
+      only with a rope around one&rsquo;s neck. But let us reason it out. We have here
+      four persons, two of whom have been poisoned and the other two with them
+      have not been. Now, it is certain that, of the four persons, the general
+      has not wished to poison himself, that his wife has not wished to poison
+      the general, and that, as for me, I have not wished to poison anybody.
+      That, if we are absolutely sure of it, leaves as the poisoner only
+      Natacha. That is so certain, so inevitable, that there is only one case,
+      one alone, where, in such conditions, Natacha would not be regarded as the
+      poisoner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I confess that, logically, I do not see,&rdquo; said the Tsar, &ldquo;anything beyond
+      that but more and more of a tangle. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Logically, the only case would be that where no one had been poisoned,
+      that is to say, where no one had taken any poison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the presence of the poison has been established!&rdquo; cried the Emperor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, the presence of the poison proves only its presence, not the
+      crime. Both poison and ipecac were found in the stomach expulsions. From
+      which a crime has been concluded. What state of affairs was necessary for
+      there to have been no crime? Simply that the poison should have appeared
+      in the expulsions after the ipecac. Then there would have been no
+      poisoning, but everyone would believe there had been. And, for that,
+      someone would have poured the poison into the expulsions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Tsar never quitted Rouletabille&rsquo;s eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is extraordinary,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But of course it is possible. In any
+      case, it is still only an hypothesis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so long as it could be an hypothesis that no one thought of, it could
+      be just that, Sire. But if I am here, it is because I have the proof that
+      that hypothesis corresponds to the reality. That necessary proof of
+      Natacha&rsquo;s innocence, Your Majesty, I have found with the rope around my
+      neck. Ah, I tell you it was time! What has hindered us hitherto, I do not
+      say to realize, but even to think, of that hypothesis? Simply that we
+      thought the illness of the general had commenced before the absorption of
+      the ipecac, since Matrena Petrovna had been obliged to go for it to her
+      medicine-closet after his illness commenced, in order to counteract the
+      poison of which she also appeared to be the victim.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, if I acquire proof that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac at hand
+      before the sickness, my hypothesis of pretense at poisoning has
+      irresistible force. Because, if it was not to use it before, why did she
+      have it with her before? And if it was not that she wished to hide the
+      fact that she had used it before, why did she wish to make believe that
+      she went to find it afterwards?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, in order to show Natacha&rsquo;s innocence, here is what must be proved:
+      that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac on her, even when she went to look
+      for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Young Rouletabille, I hardly breathe,&rdquo; said the Tsar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Breathe, Sire. The proof is here. Matrena Petrovna necessarily had the
+      ipecac on her, because after the sickness she had not the time for going
+      to find it. Do you understand, Sire? Between the moment when she fled from
+      the kiosk and when she returned there, she had not the actual time to go
+      to her medicine-closet to find the ipecac.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How have you been able to compute the time?&rdquo; asked the Emperor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, the Lord God directed, Who made me admire Feodor Feodorovitch&rsquo;s
+      watch just when we went to read, and to read on the dial of that watch two
+      minutes to the hour, and the Lord God directed yet, Who, after the scene
+      of the poison, at the time Matrena returned carrying the ipecac publicly,
+      made the hour strike from that watch in the general&rsquo;s pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two minutes. It was impossible for Matrena to have covered that distance
+      in two minutes. She could only have entered the deserted datcha and left
+      it again instantly. She had not taken the trouble to mount to the floor
+      above, where, she told us and repeated when she returned, the ipecac was
+      in the medicine-closet. She lied! And if she lied, all is explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was the striking of a watch, Sire, with a striking apparatus and a
+      sound like the general&rsquo;s, there in the quarters of the revolutionaries,
+      that roused my memory and indicated to me in a second this argument of the
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got down from my gallows-scaffold, Your Majesty, to experiment on that
+      time-limit. Oh, nothing and nobody could have prevented my making that
+      experiment before I died, to prove to myself that Rouletabille had all
+      along been right. I had studied the grounds around the datcha enough to be
+      perfectly exact about the distances. I found in the court where I was to
+      be hanged the same number of steps that there were from the kiosk to the
+      steps of the veranda, and, as the staircase of the revolutionaries had
+      fewer steps, I lengthened my journey a few steps by walking around a
+      chair. Finally, I attended to the opening and closing of the doors that
+      Matrena would have had to do. I had looked at a watch when I started. When
+      I returned, Sire, and looked at the watch again, I had taken three minutes
+      to cover the distance&mdash;and it is not for me to boast, but I am a
+      little livelier than the excellent Matrena.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matrena had lied. Matrena had simulated the poisoning of the general.
+      Matrena had coolly poured ipecac in the general&rsquo;s glass while we were
+      illustrating with matches a curious-enough theory of the nature of the
+      constitution of the empire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this is abominable!&rdquo; cried the Emperor, this time definitely
+      convinced by the intricate argument of Rouletabille. &ldquo;And what end could
+      this imitation serve?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The end of preventing the real crime! The end that she believed herself
+      to have attained, Sire, to have Natacha removed forever&mdash;Natacha whom
+      she believed capable of any crime.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it is monstrous! Feodor Feodorovitch has often told me that Matrena
+      loved Natacha sincerely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She loved her sincerely up to the day that she believed her guilty.
+      Matrena Petrovna was sure of Natacha&rsquo;s complicity in Michael
+      Nikolaievitch&rsquo;s attempt to poison the general. I shared her stupor, her
+      despair, when Feodor Feodorovitch took his daughter in his arms after that
+      tragic night, and embraced her. He seemed to absolve her. It was then that
+      Matrena resolved within herself to save the general in spite of himself,
+      but I remain persuaded that, if she had dared such a plan against Natacha,
+      it would only be because of what she believed definite proof of her
+      step-daughter&rsquo;s infamy. These papers, Sire, that you have shown me, and
+      which show, if nothing more, an understanding between Natacha and the
+      revolutionaries, could only have been in the possession of Michael or of
+      Natacha. Nothing was found in Michael&rsquo;s quarters. Tell me, then, that
+      Matrena found them in Natacha&rsquo;s apartment. Then, she did not hesitate!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If one outlined her crime to her, do you believe she would confess it?&rdquo;
+      asked the Emperor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am so sure of it that I have had her brought here. By now Koupriane
+      should be here at the chateau, with Matrena Petrovna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think of everything, monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Tsar moved to ring a bell. Rouletabille raised his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet, Sire. I ask that you permit me not to be present at the
+      confusion of that brave, heroic, good woman who has loved me much. But
+      before I go, Sire&mdash;do you promise me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor believed he had not heard correctly or did not grasp the
+      meaning. He repeated what Rouletabille had said. The young reporter
+      repeated it once more:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you promise? No, Sire, I am not mad. I dare to ask you that. I have
+      confided my honor to Your Majesty. I have told you Natacha&rsquo;s secret. Well,
+      now, before Matrena&rsquo;s confession, I dare to ask you: Promise me to forget
+      that secret. It will not suffice merely to give Natacha back again to her
+      father. It is necessary to leave her course open to her&mdash;if you
+      really wish to save General Trebassof. What do you decide, Sire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the first time anyone has questioned me, monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, well, it will be the last. But I humbly beg Your Majesty to reply.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would be many millions given to the Revolution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Sire, they are not given yet. The general is sixty-five, but he has
+      many years ahead of him, if you wish it. By the time he dies&mdash;a
+      natural death, if you wish it&mdash;your enemies will have disarmed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My enemies!&rdquo; murmured the Tsar in a low voice. &ldquo;No, no; my enemies never
+      will disarm. Who, then, will be able to disarm them?&rdquo; added he,
+      melancholily, shaking his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Progress, Sire! If you wish it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Tsar turned red and looked at the audacious young man, who met the
+      gaze of His Majesty frankly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is kind of you to say that, my young friend. But you speak as a
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a child of France to the Father of the Russian people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was said in a voice so solemn and, at the same time, so naively
+      touching, that the Tsar started. He gazed again for some time in silence
+      at this boy who, this time, turned away his brimming eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Progress and pity, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the Emperor, &ldquo;it is promised.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rouletabille was not able to restrain a joyous movement hardly in keeping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can ring now, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the Tsar rang.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter passed into a little salon, where he found the Marshal,
+      Koupriane and Matrena Petrovna, who was &ldquo;in a state.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw a suspicious glance at Rouletabille, who was not treated this
+      morning as the dear little domovoi-doukh. She permitted herself to be
+      conducted, already trembling, before the Emperor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What happened?&rdquo; asked Koupriane agitatedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It so happened, my dear Monsieur Koupriane, that I have the pardon of the
+      Emperor for all the crimes you have charged against me, and that I wish to
+      shake hands before I go, without any rancor. Monsieur Koupriane, the
+      Emperor will tell you himself that General Trebassof is saved, and that
+      his life will never be in danger any more. Do you know what follows? It
+      follows that you must at once set Matiew free, whom I have taken, if you
+      remember, under my protection. Tell him that he is going to make his way
+      in France. I will find him a place on condition that he forgets certain
+      lashes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such a promise! Such an attitude toward me!&rdquo; cried Koupriane. &ldquo;But I will
+      wait for the Emperor to tell me all these fine things. And your Natacha,
+      what do you do with her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We release her also, monsieur. Natacha never has been the monster that
+      you think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you say that? Someone at least is guilty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are two guilty. The first, Monsieur le Marechal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; cried the Marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Marechal, who had the imprudence to bring such dangerous
+      grapes to the datcha des Iles, and&mdash;and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the other?&rdquo; asked Koupriane, more and more anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen there,&rdquo; said Rouletabille, pointing toward the Emperor&rsquo;s cabinet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sound of tears and sobs reached them. The grief and the remorse of
+      Matrena Petrovna passed the walls of the cabinet. Koupriane was completely
+      disconcerted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly the Emperor appeared. He was in a state of exaltation such as had
+      never been known in him. Koupriane, dismayed, drew back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; said the Tsar to him, &ldquo;I require that Natacha Feodorovna be
+      here within the next two hours, and that she be conducted with the honors
+      due to her rank. Natacha is innocent, and we must make reparation to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, turning toward Rouletabille:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have learned what she knows and what she owes to you&mdash;we owe to
+      you, my young friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Tsar said &ldquo;my young friend.&rdquo; Rouletabille, at this last moment before
+      his departure, spoke Russian?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then she knows nothing, Sire. That is better, Sire, because Your Majesty
+      and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; said the Tsar thoughtfully. &ldquo;But, my friend, what am I to
+      do for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, one favor. Do not let me miss the train at 10:55.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he threw himself on his knees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remain on your knees, my friend. You are ready, thus. Monsieur le
+      Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately sign.
+      Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet, one of my St.
+      Anne&rsquo;s collars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of &ldquo;L&rsquo;Epoque,&rdquo; was created
+      officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him the
+      accolade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They combine the whole course of time in this country,&rdquo; thought
+      Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo station.
+      Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the young reporter&rsquo;s
+      hand when they learned of his impending departure were Ivan Petrovitch,
+      the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and Athanase Georgevitch, the lively
+      advocate so well known for his famous exploits with knife and fork. They
+      had come naturally with all their bandages and dressings, which made them
+      look like glorious ruins. They brought the greetings of Feodor
+      Feodorovitch, who still had a little fever, and of Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff,
+      the Lithuanian, who had both legs broken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his last
+      drink of champagne. When nothing remained in the bottle and everyone had
+      embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not start quite yet,
+      Athanase Georgevitch opened a second &ldquo;last&rdquo; bottle. It was then that
+      Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath. They invited him to
+      drink, and he accepted. But he had need to speak to Rouletabille in
+      private, and he drew the reporter, after excuses, out into the corridor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Emperor himself who has sent me,&rdquo; said the high dignitary with
+      emotion. &ldquo;He has sent me about the eider downs. You forgot to explain the
+      eider downs to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Niet!&rdquo; replied Rouletabille, laughing. &ldquo;That is nothing. Nitchevo! His
+      Majesty&rsquo;s eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the feathers that
+      you have shown me demonstrates. Well, open them now. They are a cheap
+      imitation, as the second feather proves. The return of the false eider
+      downs, before evening, proves then that they hoped the substitution would
+      pass undetected. That is all. Caracho! Collapse of the hoax. Your health!
+      Vive le Tsar!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caracho! Caracho!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man and a
+      woman. It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gounsovski stood on the running-board.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands. You are very
+      congenial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Compliments, madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house
+      yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into
+      Finland. I do not regret it, monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The train trembled and moved. They cried, &ldquo;Vive la France! Vive la Russe!&rdquo;
+       Athanase Georgevitch wept. Matrena Petrovna, at a window of the station,
+      whither she had timidly retired, waved a handkerchief to the little
+      domovoi-doukh, who had made her see everything in the right light, and
+      whom she did not dare to embrace after the terrible affair of the false
+      poison and the Tsar&rsquo;s anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the same, as the train took its way toward the frontier, Rouletabille
+      threw himself back on the cushions, and said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ouf!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
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+</html>
diff --git a/1686.txt b/1686.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Secret of the Night
+
+Author: Gaston Leroux
+
+Posting Date: November 20, 2008 [EBook #1686]
+Release Date: March, 1999
+[Last updated: September 12, 2017]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+
+By Gaston Leroux
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Chapter
+
+     I       GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+     II      NATACHA
+     III     THE WATCH
+     IV      "THE YOUTH OF Moscow Is DEAD"
+     V       BY ROULETABILLE'S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+     VI      THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+     VII     ARSENATE OF SODA
+     VIII    THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+     IX      ANNOUCHEA
+     X       A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+     XI      THE POISON CONTINUES
+     XII     PERE ALEXIS
+     XIII    THE LIVING BOMBS
+     XIV     THE MARSHES
+     XV      "I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU"
+     XVI     BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+     XVII    THE LAST CRAVAT
+     XVIII   A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+     XIX     THE TSAR
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+I. GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+
+
+"BARINIA, the young stranger has arrived."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Oh, he is waiting at the lodge."
+
+"I told you to show him to Natacha's sitting-room. Didn't you understand
+me, Ermolai?"
+
+"Pardon, Barinia, but the young stranger, when I asked to search him, as
+you directed, flatly refused to let me."
+
+"Did you explain to him that everybody is searched before being allowed
+to enter, that it is the order, and that even my mother herself has
+submitted to it?"
+
+"I told him all that, Barinia; and I told him about madame your mother."
+
+"What did he say to that?"
+
+"That he was not madame your mother. He acted angry."
+
+"Well, let him come in without being searched."
+
+"The Chief of Police won't like it."
+
+"Do as I say."
+
+Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden. The "barinia" left the
+veranda, where she had come for this conversation with the old servant
+of General Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the dining-room
+in the datcha des Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan Petrovitch was
+regaling his amused associates with his latest exploit at Cubat's
+resort. They were a noisy company, and certainly the quietest among them
+was not the general, who nursed on a sofa the leg which still held him
+captive after the recent attack, that to his old coachman and his two
+piebald horses had proved fatal. The story of the always-amiable Ivan
+Petrovitch (a lively, little, elderly man with his head bald as an
+egg) was about the evening before. After having, as he said, "recure
+la bouche" for these gentlemen spoke French like their own language
+and used it among themselves to keep their servants from
+understanding--after having wet his whistle with a large glass of
+sparkling rosy French wine, he cried:
+
+"You would have laughed, Feodor Feodorovitch. We had sung songs on the
+Barque* and then the Bohemians left with their music and we went out
+onto the river-bank to stretch our legs and cool our faces in the
+freshness of the dawn, when a company of Cossacks of the Guard came
+along. I knew the officer in command and invited him to come along with
+us and drink the Emperor's health at Cubat's place. That officer, Feodor
+Feodorovitch, is a man who knows vintages and boasts that he has never
+swallowed a glass of anything so common as Crimean wine. When I named
+champagne he cried, 'Vive l'Empereur!' A true patriot. So we started,
+merry as school-children. The entire company followed, then all the
+diners playing little whistles, and all the servants besides, single
+file. At Cubat's I hated to leave the companion-officers of my friend at
+the door, so I invited them in, too. They accepted, naturally. But the
+subalterns were thirsty as well. I understand discipline. You know,
+Feodor Feodorovitch, that I am a stickler for discipline. Just because
+one is gay of a spring morning, discipline should not be forgotten. I
+invited the officers to drink in a private room, and sent the subalterns
+into the main hall of the restaurant. Then the soldiers were thirsty,
+too, and I had drinks served to them out in the courtyard. Then, my
+word, there was a perplexing business, for now the horses whinnied. The
+brave horses, Feodor Feodorovitch, who also wished to drink the health
+of the Emperor. I was bothered about the discipline. Hall, court, all
+were full. And I could not put the horses in private rooms. Well, I made
+them carry out champagne in pails and then came the perplexing business
+I had tried so hard to avoid, a grand mixture of boots and horse-shoes
+that was certainly the liveliest thing I have ever seen in my life. But
+the horses were the most joyous, and danced as if a torch was held under
+their nostrils, and all of them, my word! were ready to throw their
+riders because the men were not of the same mind with them as to the
+route to follow! From our window we laughed fit to kill at such a
+mixture of sprawling boots and dancing hoofs. But the troopers finally
+got all their horses to barracks, with patience, for the Emperor's
+cavalry are the best riders in the world, Feodor Feodorovitch. And we
+certainly had a great laugh!--Your health, Matrena Petrovna."
+
+     [* The "Barque" is a restaurant on a boat, among the isles,
+     near the Gulf of Finland, on a bank of the Neva.]
+
+These last graceful words were addressed to Madame Trebassof, who
+shrugged her shoulders at the undesired gallantry of the gay Councilor.
+She did not join in the conversation, excepting to calm the general, who
+wished to send the whole regiment to the guard-house, men and horses.
+And while the roisterers laughed over the adventure she said to her
+husband in the advisory voice of the helpful wife:
+
+"Feodor, you must not attach importance to what that old fool Ivan
+tells you. He is the most imaginative man in the capital when he has had
+champagne."
+
+"Ivan, you certainly have not had horses served with champagne in
+pails," the old boaster, Athanase Georgevitch, protested jealously. He
+was an advocate, well-known for his table-feats, who claimed the hardest
+drinking reputation of any man in the capital, and he regretted not to
+have invented that tale.
+
+"On my word! And the best brands! I had won four thousand roubles. I
+left the little fete with fifteen kopecks."
+
+Matrena Petrovna was listening to Ermolai, the faithful country servant
+who wore always, even here in the city, his habit of fresh nankeen, his
+black leather belt, his large blue pantaloons and his boots glistening
+like ice, his country costume in his master's city home. Madame Matrena
+rose, after lightly stroking the hair of her step-daughter Natacha,
+whose eyes followed her to the door, indifferent apparently to the
+tender manifestations of her father's orderly, the soldier-poet, Boris
+Mourazoff, who had written beautiful verses on the death of the
+Moscow students, after having shot them, in the way of duty, on their
+barricades.
+
+Ermolai conducted his mistress to the drawing-room and pointed across
+to a door that he had left open, which led to the sitting-room before
+Natacha's chamber.
+
+"He is there," said Ermolai in a low voice.
+
+Ermolai need have said nothing, for that matter, since Madame
+Matrena was aware of a stranger's presence in the sitting-room by the
+extraordinary attitude of an individual in a maroon frock-coat bordered
+with false astrakhan, such as is on the coats of all the Russian police
+agents and makes the secret agents recognizable at first glance. This
+policeman was on his knees in the drawing-room watching what passed in
+the next room through the narrow space of light in the hinge-way of the
+door. In this manner, or some other, all persons who wished to approach
+General Trebassof were kept under observation without their knowing it,
+after having been first searched at the lodge, a measure adopted since
+the latest attack.
+
+Madame Matrena touched the policeman's shoulder with that heroic hand
+which had saved her husband's life and which still bore traces of the
+terrible explosion in the last attack, when she had seized the infernal
+machine intended for the general with her bare hand. The policeman rose
+and silently left the room, reached the veranda and lounged there on a
+sofa, pretending to be asleep, but in reality watching the garden paths.
+
+Matrena Petrovna took his place at the hinge-vent. This was her rule;
+she always took the final glance at everything and everybody. She
+roved at all hours of the day and night round about the general, like a
+watch-dog, ready to bite, to throw itself before the danger, to receive
+the blows, to perish for its master. This had commenced at Moscow after
+the terrible repression, the massacre of revolutionaries under the walls
+of Presnia, when the surviving Nihilists left behind them a placard
+condemning the victorious General Trebassof to death. Matrena Petrovna
+lived only for the general. She had vowed that she would not survive
+him. So she had double reason to guard him.
+
+But she had lost all confidence even within the walls of her own home.
+
+Things had happened even there that defied her caution, her instinct,
+her love. She had not spoken of these things save to the Chief of
+Police, Koupriane, who had reported them to the Emperor. And here now
+was the man whom the Emperor had sent, as the supreme resource, this
+young stranger--Joseph Rouletabille, reporter.
+
+"But he is a mere boy!" she exclaimed, without at all understanding the
+matter, this youthful figure, with soft, rounded cheeks, eyes clear and,
+at first view, extraordinarily naive, the eyes of an infant. True, at
+the moment Rouletabille's expression hardly suggested any superhuman
+profundity of thought, for, left in view of a table, spread with
+hors-d'oeuvres, the young man appeared solely occupied in digging out
+with a spoon all the caviare that remained in the jars. Matrena noted
+the rosy freshness of his cheeks, the absence of down on his lip and not
+a hint of beard, the thick hair, with the curl over the forehead. Ah,
+that forehead--the forehead was curious, with great over-hanging cranial
+lumps which moved above the deep arcade of the eye-sockets while the
+mouth was busy--well, one would have said that Rouletabille had not
+eaten for a week. He was demolishing a great slice of Volgan sturgeon,
+contemplating at the same time with immense interest a salad of creamed
+cucumbers, when Matrena Petrovna appeared.
+
+He wished to excuse himself at once and spoke with his mouth full.
+
+"I beg your pardon, madame, but the Czar forgot to invite me to
+breakfast."
+
+Madame Matrena smiled and gave him a hearty handshake as she urged him
+to be seated.
+
+"You have seen His Majesty?"
+
+"I come from him, madame. It is to Madame Trebassof that I have the
+honor of speaking?"
+
+"Yes. And you are Monsieur--?"
+
+"Joseph Rouletabille, madame. I do not add, 'At your service--because
+I do not know about that yet. That is what I said just now to His
+Majesty."
+
+"Then?" asked Madame Matrena, rather amused by the tone the conversation
+had taken and the slightly flurried air of Rouletabille.
+
+"Why, then, I am a reporter, you see. That is what I said at once to my
+editor in Paris, 'I am not going to take part in revolutionary affairs
+that do not concern my country,' to which my editor replied, 'You do
+not have to take part. You must go to Russia to make an inquiry into
+the present status of the different parties. You will commence by
+interviewing the Emperor.' I said, 'Well, then, here goes,' and took the
+train."
+
+"And you have interviewed the Emperor?"
+
+"Oh, yes, that has not been difficult. I expected to arrive direct
+at St. Petersburg, but at Krasnoie-Coelo the train stopped and the
+grand-marshal of the court came to me and asked me to follow him. It
+was very flattering. Twenty minutes later I was before His Majesty. He
+awaited me! I understood at once that this was obviously for something
+out of the ordinary."
+
+"And what did he say to you?"
+
+"He is a man of genuine majesty. He reassured me at once when I
+explained my scruples to him. He said there was no occasion for me to
+take part in the politics of the matter, but to save his most faithful
+servant, who was on the point of becoming the victim of the strangest
+family drama ever conceived."
+
+Madame Matrena, white as a sheet, rose to her feet.
+
+"Ah," she said simply.
+
+But Rouletabille, whom nothing escaped, saw her hand tremble on the back
+of the chair.
+
+He went on, not appearing to have noticed her emotion:
+
+"His Majesty added these exact words: 'It is I who ask it of you; I and
+Madame Trebassof. Go, monsieur, she awaits you.'"
+
+He ceased and waited for Madame Trebassof to speak.
+
+She made up her mind after brief reflection.
+
+"Have you seen Koupriane?"
+
+"The Chief of Police? Yes. The grand-marshal accompanied me back to the
+station at Krasnoie-Coelo, and the Chief of Police accompanied me to St.
+Petersburg station. One could not have been better received."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille," said Matrena, who visibly strove to regain her
+self-control, "I am not of Koupriane's opinion and I am not"--here she
+lowered her trembling voice--"of the opinion His Majesty holds. It
+is better for me to tell you at once, so that you may not
+regret intervening in an affair where there are--where there
+are--risks--terrible risks to run. No, this is not a family drama. The
+family is small, very small: the general, his daughter Natacha (by his
+former marriage), and myself. There could not be a family drama among
+us three. It is simply about my husband, monsieur, who did his duty as
+a soldier in defending the throne of his sovereign, my husband whom they
+mean to assassinate! There is nothing else, no other situation, my dear
+little guest."
+
+To hide her distress she started to carve a slice of jellied veal and
+carrot.
+
+"You have not eaten, you are hungry. It is dreadful, my dear young man.
+See, you must dine with us, and then--you will say adieu. Yes, you will
+leave me all alone. I will undertake to save him all alone. Certainly, I
+will undertake it."
+
+A tear fell on the slice she was cutting. Rouletabille, who felt the
+brave woman's emotion affecting him also, braced himself to keep from
+showing it.
+
+"I am able to help you a little all the same," he said. "Monsieur
+Koupriane has told me that there is a deep mystery. It is my vocation to
+get to the bottom of mysteries."
+
+"I know what Koupriane thinks," she said, shaking her head. "But if
+I could bring myself to think that for a single day I would rather be
+dead."
+
+The good Matrena Petrovna lifted her beautiful eyes to Rouletabille,
+brimming with the tears she held back.
+
+She added quickly:
+
+"But eat now, my dear guest; eat. My dear child, you must forget what
+Koupriane has said to you, when you are back in France."
+
+"I promise you that, madame."
+
+"It is the Emperor who has caused you this long journey. For me, I
+did not wish it. Has he, indeed, so much confidence in you?" she asked
+naively, gazing at him fixedly through her tears.
+
+"Madame, I was just about to tell you. I have been active in some
+important matters that have been reported to him, and then sometimes
+your Emperor is allowed to see the papers. He has heard talk, too (for
+everybody talked of them, madame), about the Mystery of the Yellow Room
+and the Perfume of the Lady in Black."
+
+Here Rouletabille watched Madame Trebassof and was much mortified at the
+undoubted ignorance that showed in her frank face of either the yellow
+room or the black perfume.
+
+"My young friend," said she, in a voice more and more hesitant, "you
+must excuse me, but it is a long time since I have had good eyes for
+reading."
+
+Tears, at last, ran down her cheeks.
+
+Rouletabille could not restrain himself any further. He saw in one flash
+all this heroic woman had suffered in her combat day by day with the
+death which hovered. He took her little fat hands, whose fingers were
+overloaded with rings, tremulously into his own:
+
+"Madame, do not weep. They wish to kill your husband. Well then, we will
+be two at least to defend him, I swear to you."
+
+"Even against the Nihilists!"
+
+"Aye, madame, against all the world. I have eaten all your caviare. I am
+your guest. I am your friend."
+
+As he said this he was so excited, so sincere and so droll that Madame
+Trebassof could not help smiling through her tears. She made him sit
+down beside her.
+
+"The Chief of Police has talked of you a great deal. He came here
+abruptly after the last attack and a mysterious happening that I will
+tell you about. He cried, 'Ah, we need Rouletabille to unravel this!'
+The next day he came here again. He had gone to the Court. There,
+everybody, it appears, was talking of you. The Emperor wished to know
+you. That is why steps were taken through the ambassador at Paris."
+
+"Yes, yes. And naturally all the world has learned of it. That makes it
+so lively. The Nihilists warned me immediately that I would not reach
+Russia alive. That, finally, was what decided me on coming. I am
+naturally very contrary."
+
+"And how did you get through the journey?"
+
+"Not badly. I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned
+to kill me, and I reached an understanding with him. He was a charming
+youth, so it was easily arranged."
+
+Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would have
+been difficult for him to name. Matrena Petrovna laid her fat little
+hand on his arm:
+
+"You speak seriously?"
+
+"Very seriously."
+
+"A small glass of vodka?"
+
+"No alcohol."
+
+Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.
+
+"And how did you discover him? How did you know him?"
+
+"First, he wore glasses. All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling. And
+then I had a good clew. A minute before the departure from Paris I had a
+friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a reporter who would do
+anything I said without even wanting to know why. I said, 'You call out
+suddenly and very loud, "Hello, here is Rouletabille."' So he called,
+'Hello, here is Rouletabille,' and all those who were in the corridor
+turned and all those who were already in the compartments came out,
+excepting the man with the glasses. Then I was sure about him."
+
+Madame Trebassof looked at Rouletabille, who turned as red as the comb of
+a rooster and was rather embarrassed at his fatuity.
+
+"That deserves a rebuff, I know, madame, but from the moment the Emperor
+of all the Russias had desired to see me I could not admit that any mere
+man with glasses had not the curiosity to see what I looked like. It
+was not natural. As soon as the train was off I sat down by this man and
+told him who I thought he was. I was right. He removed his glasses and,
+looking me straight in the eyes, said he was glad to have a little talk
+with me before anything unfortunate happened. A half-hour later the
+entente-cordiale was signed. I gave him to understand that I was coming
+here simply on business as a reporter and that there was always time to
+check me if I should be indiscreet. At the German frontier he left me to
+go on, and returned tranquilly to his nitro-glycerine."
+
+"You are a marked man also, my poor boy."
+
+"Oh, they have not got us yet."
+
+Matrena Petrovna coughed. That _us_ overwhelmed her. With what calmness
+this boy that she had not known an hour proposed to share the dangers
+of a situation that excited general pity but from which the bravest kept
+aloof either from prudence or dismay.
+
+"Ah, my friend, a little of this fine smoked Hamburg beef?"
+
+But the young man was already pouring out fresh yellow beer.
+
+"There," said he. "Now, madame, I am listening. Tell me first about the
+earliest attack."
+
+"Now," said Matrena, "we must go to dinner."
+
+Rouletabille looked at her wide-eyed.
+
+"But, madame, what have I just been doing?"
+
+Madame Matrena smiled. All these strangers were alike. Because they
+had eaten some hors-d'oeuvres, some zakouskis, they imagined their host
+would be satisfied. They did not know how to eat.
+
+"We will go to the dining-room. The general is expecting you. They are
+at table."
+
+"I understand I am supposed to know him."
+
+"Yes, you have met in Paris. It is entirely natural that in passing
+through St. Petersburg you should make him a visit. You know him
+very well indeed, so well that he opens his home to you. Ah, yes, my
+step-daughter also"--she flushed a little--"Natacha believes that her
+father knows you."
+
+She opened the door of the drawing-room, which they had to cross in
+order to reach the dining-room.
+
+From his present position Rouletabille could see all the corners of
+the drawing-room, the veranda, the garden and the entrance lodge at the
+gate. In the veranda the man in the maroon frock-coat trimmed with false
+astrakhan seemed still to be asleep on the sofa; in one of the corners
+of the drawing-room another individual, silent and motionless as a
+statue, dressed exactly the same, in a maroon frock-coat with false
+astrakhan, stood with his hands behind his back seemingly struck with
+general paralysis at the sight of a flaring sunset which illumined as
+with a torch the golden spires of Saints Peter and Paul. And in the
+garden and before the lodge three others dressed in maroon roved
+like souls in pain over the lawn or back and forth at the entrance.
+Rouletabille motioned to Madame Matrena, stepped back into the
+sitting-room and closed the door.
+
+"Police?" he asked.
+
+Matrena Petrovna nodded her head and put her finger to her mouth in a
+naive way, as one would caution a child to silence. Rouletabille smiled.
+
+"How many are there?"
+
+"Ten, relieved every six hours."
+
+"That makes forty unknown men around your house each day."
+
+"Not unknown," she replied. "Police."
+
+"Yet, in spite of them, you have had the affair of the bouquet in the
+general's chamber."
+
+"No, there were only three then. It is since the affair of the bouquet
+that there have been ten."
+
+"It hardly matters. It is since these ten that you have had..."
+
+"What?" she demanded anxiously.
+
+"You know well--the flooring."
+
+"Sh-h-h."
+
+She glanced at the door, watching the policeman statuesque before the
+setting sun.
+
+"No one knows that--not even my husband."
+
+"So M. Koupriane told me. Then it is you who have arranged for these ten
+police-agents?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, we will commence now by sending all these police away."
+
+Matrena Petrovna grasped his hand, astounded.
+
+"Surely you don't think of doing such a thing as that!"
+
+"Yes. We must know where the blow is coming from. You have four
+different groups of people around here--the police, the domestics, your
+friends, your family. Get rid of the police first. They must not be
+permitted to cross your threshold. They have not been able to protect
+you. You have nothing to regret. And if, after they are gone, something
+new turns up, we can leave M. Koupriane to conduct the inquiries without
+his being preoccupied here at the house."
+
+"But you do not know the admirable police of Koupriane. These brave men
+have given proof of their devotion."
+
+"Madame, if I were face to face with a Nihilist the first thing I would
+ask myself about him would be, 'Is he one of the police?' The first
+thing I ask in the presence of an agent of your police is, 'Is he not a
+Nihilist?'"
+
+"But they will not wish to go."
+
+"Do any of them speak French?"
+
+"Yes, their sergeant, who is out there in the salon."
+
+"Pray call him."
+
+Madame Trebassof walked into the salon and signaled. The man appeared.
+Rouletabille handed him a paper, which the other read.
+
+"You will gather your men together and quit the villa," ordered
+Rouletabille. "You will return to the police Headguarters. Say to M.
+Koupriane that I have commanded this and that I require all police
+service around the villa to be suspended until further orders."
+
+The man bowed, appeared not to understand, looked at Madame Trebassof
+and said to the young man:
+
+"At your service."
+
+He went out.
+
+"Wait here a moment," urged Madame Trebassof, who did not know how to
+take this abrupt action and whose anxiety was really painful to see.
+
+She disappeared after the man of the false astrakhan. A few moments
+afterwards she returned. She appeared even more agitated.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she murmured, "but I cannot let them go like this.
+They are much chagrined. They have insisted on knowing where they have
+failed in their service. I have appeased them with money."
+
+"Yes, and tell me the whole truth, madame. You have directed them not to
+go far away, but to remain near the villa so as to watch it as closely
+as possible."
+
+She reddened.
+
+"It is true. But they have gone, nevertheless. They had to obey you.
+What can that paper be you have shown them?"
+
+Rouletabille drew out again the billet covered with seals and signs and
+cabalistics that he did not understand. Madame Trebassof translated it
+aloud: "Order to all officials in surveillance of the Villa Trebassof to
+obey the bearer absolutely. Signed: Koupriane."
+
+"Is it possible!" murmured Matrena Petrovna. "But Koupriane would never
+have given you this paper if he had imagined that you would use it to
+dismiss his agents."
+
+"Evidently. I have not asked him his advice, madame, you may be sure.
+But I will see him to-morrow and he will understand."
+
+"Meanwhile, who is going to watch over him?" cried she.
+
+Rouletabille took her hands again. He saw her suffering, a prey to
+anguish almost prostrating. He pitied her. He wished to give her
+immediate confidence.
+
+"We will," he said.
+
+She saw his young, clear eyes, so deep, so intelligent, the well-formed
+young head, the willing face, all his young ardency for her, and it
+reassured her. Rouletabille waited for what she might say. She said
+nothing. She took him in her arms and embraced him.
+
+
+
+
+II. NATACHA
+
+In the dining-room it was Thaddeus Tchnichnikoff's turn to tell hunting
+stories. He was the greatest timber-merchant in Lithuania. He owned
+immense forests and he loved Feodor Feodorovitch* as a brother, for they
+had played together all through their childhood, and once he had saved
+him from a bear that was just about to crush his skull as one might
+knock off a hat. General Trebassof's father was governor of Courlande at
+that time, by the grace of God and the Little Father. Thaddeus, who was
+just thirteen years old, killed the bear with a single stroke of his
+boar-spear, and just in time. Close ties were knit between the two
+families by this occurrence, and though Thaddeus was neither noble-born
+nor a soldier, Feodor considered him his brother and felt toward him
+as such. Now Thaddeus had become the greatest timber-merchant of the
+western provinces, with his own forests and also with his massive body,
+his fat, oily face, his bull-neck and his ample paunch. He quitted
+everything at once--all his affairs, his family--as soon as he learned
+of the first attack, to come and remain by the side of his dear comrade
+Feodor. He had done this after each attack, without forgetting one.
+He was a faithful friend. But he fretted because they might not go
+bear-hunting as in their youth. 'Where, he would ask, are there any
+bears remaining in Courlande, or trees for that matter, what you could
+call trees, growing since the days of the grand-dukes of Lithuania,
+giant trees that threw their shade right up to the very edge of the
+towns? Where were such things nowadays? Thaddeus was very amusing,
+for it was he, certainly, who had cut them away tranquilly enough
+and watched them vanish in locomotive smoke. It was what was called
+Progress. Ah, hunting lost its national character assuredly with tiny
+new-growth trees which had not had time to grow. And, besides, one
+nowadays had not time for hunting. All the big game was so far away.
+Lucky enough if one seized the time to bring down a brace of woodcock
+early in the morning. At this point in Thaddeus's conversation there
+was a babble of talk among the convivial gentlemen, for they had all the
+time in the world at their disposal and could not see why he should be
+so concerned about snatching a little while at morning or evening, or
+at midday for that matter. Champagne was flowing like a river when
+Rouletabille was brought in by Matrena Petrovna. The general, whose eyes
+had been on the door for some time, cried at once, as though responding
+to a cue:
+
+"Ah, my dear Rouletabille! I have been looking for you. Our friends
+wrote me you were coming to St. Petersburg."
+
+     * In this story according to Russian habit General Trebassof
+     is called alternately by that name or the family name Feodor
+     Feodorovitch, and Madame Trebassof by that name or her
+     family name, Matrena Petrovna.--Translator's Note.
+
+Rouletabille hurried over to him and they shook hands like friends who
+meet after a long separation. The reporter was presented to the company
+as a close young friend from Paris whom they had enjoyed so much during
+their latest visit to the City of Light. Everybody inquired for the
+latest word of Paris as of a dear acquaintance.
+
+"How is everybody at Maxim's?" urged the excellent Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+Thaddeus, too, had been once in Paris and he returned with an
+enthusiastic liking for the French demoiselles.
+
+"Vos gogottes, monsieur," he said, appearing very amiable and leaning
+on each word, with a guttural emphasis such as is common in the western
+provinces, "ah, vos gogottes!"
+
+Matrena Perovna tried to silence him, but Thaddeus insisted on his right
+to appreciate the fair sex away from home. He had a turgid, sentimental
+wife, always weeping and cramming her religious notions down his throat.
+
+Of course someone asked Rouletabille what he thought of Russia, but he
+had no more than opened his mouth to reply than Athanase Georgevitch
+closed it by interrupting:
+
+"Permettez! Permettez! You others, of the young generation, what do you
+know of it? You need to have lived a long time and in all its districts
+to appreciate Russia at its true value. Russia, my young sir, is as yet
+a closed book to you."
+
+"Naturally," Rouletabille answered, smiling.
+
+"Well, well, here's your health! What I would point out to you first of
+all is that it is a good buyer of champagne, eh?"--and he gave a huge
+grin. "But the hardest drinker I ever knew was born on the banks of the
+Seine. Did you know him, Feodor Feodorovitch? Poor Charles Dufour, who
+died two years ago at fete of the officers of the Guard. He wagered at
+the end of the banquet that he could drink a glassful of champagne to
+the health of each man there. There were sixty when you came to count
+them. He commenced the round of the table and the affair went splendidly
+up to the fifty-eighth man. But at the fifty-ninth--think of the
+misfortune!--the champagne ran out! That poor, that charming, that
+excellent Charles took up a glass of vin dore which was in the glass
+of this fifty-ninth, wished him long life, drained the glass at one
+draught, had just time to murmur, 'Tokay, 1807,' and fell back dead! Ah,
+he knew the brands, my word! and he proved it to his last breath! Peace
+to his ashes! They asked what he died of. I knew he died because of the
+inappropriate blend of flavors. There should be discipline in all things
+and not promiscuous mixing. One more glass of champagne and he would
+have been drinking with us this evening. Your health, Matrena Petrovna.
+Champagne, Feodor Feodorovitch! Vive la France, monsieur! Natacha, my
+child, you must sing something. Boris will accompany you on the guzla.
+Your father will enjoy it."
+
+All eyes turned toward Natacha as she rose.
+
+Rouletabille was struck by her serene beauty. That was the first
+enthralling impression, an impression so strong it astonished him, the
+perfect serenity, the supreme calm, the tranquil harmony of her noble
+features. Natacha was twenty. Heavy brown hair circled about er forehead
+and was looped about her ears, which were half-concealed. Her profile
+was clear-cut; her mouth was strong and revealed between red, firm lips
+the even pearliness of her teeth. She was of medium height. In walking
+she had the free, light step of the highborn maidens who, in primal
+times, pressed the flowers as they passed without crushing them. But all
+her true grace seemed to be concentrated in her eyes, which were deep
+and of a dark blue. The impression she made upon a beholder was very
+complex. And it would have been difficult to say whether the calm which
+pervaded every manifestation of her beauty was the result of conscious
+control or the most perfect ease.
+
+She took down the guzla and handed it to Boris, who struck some
+plaintive preliminary chords.
+
+"What shall I sing?" she inquired, raising her father's hand from the
+back of the sofa where he rested and kissing it with filial tenderness.
+
+"Improvise," said the general. "Improvise in French, for the sake of our
+guest."
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Boris; "improvise as you did the other evening."
+
+He immediately struck a minor chord.
+
+Natacha looked fondly at her father as she sang:
+
+  "When the moment comes that parts us at the close of day,
+  when the Angel of Sleep covers you with azure wings;
+  "Oh, may your eyes rest from so many tears, and your oppressed
+        heart have calm;
+  "In each moment that we have together, Father dear, let our
+        souls feel harmony sweet and mystical;
+  "And when your thoughts may have flown to other worlds, oh, may
+        my image, at least, nestle within your sleeping eyes."
+
+Natacha's voice was sweet, and the charm of it subtly pervasive. The
+words as she uttered them seemed to have all the quality of a prayer and
+there were tears in all eyes, excepting those of Michael Korsakoff, the
+second orderly, whom Rouletabille appraised as a man with a rough heart
+not much open to sentiment.
+
+"Feodor Feodorovitch," said this officer, when the young girl's voice
+had faded away into the blending with the last note of the guzla,
+"Feodor Feodorovitch is a man and a glorious soldier who is able to
+sleep in peace, because he has labored for his country and for his
+Czar."
+
+"Yes, yes. Labored well! A glorious soldier!" repeated Athanase
+Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch. "Well may he sleep peacefully."
+
+"Natacha sang like an angel," said Boris, the first orderly, in a
+tremulous voice.
+
+"Like an angel, Boris Nikolaievitch. But why did she speak of his heart
+oppressed? I don't see that General Trebassof has a heart oppressed, for
+my part." Michael Korsakoff spoke roughly as he drained his glass.
+
+"No, that's so, isn't it?" agreed the others.
+
+"A young girl may wish her father a pleasant sleep, surely!" said
+Matrena Petrovna, with a certain good sense. "Natacha has affected us
+all, has she not, Feodor?"
+
+"Yes, she made me weep," declared the general. "But let us have
+champagne to cheer us up. Our young friend here will think we are
+chicken-hearted."
+
+"Never think that," said Rouletabille. "Mademoiselle has touched me
+deeply as well. She is an artist, really a great artist. And a poet."
+
+"He is from Paris; he knows," said the others.
+
+And all drank.
+
+Then they talked about music, with great display of knowledge concerning
+things operatic. First one, then another went to the piano and ran
+through some motif that the rest hummed a little first, then shouted in
+a rousing chorus. Then they drank more, amid a perfect fracas of talk
+and laughter. Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch walked across and
+kissed the general. Rouletabille saw all around him great children who
+amused themselves with unbelievable naivete and who drank in a fashion
+more unbelievable still. Matrena Petrovna smoked cigarettes of yellow
+tobacco incessantly, rising almost continually to make a hurried
+round of the rooms, and after having prompted the servants to greater
+watchfulness, sat and looked long at Rouletabille, who did not stir, but
+caught every word, every gesture of each one there. Finally, sighing,
+she sat down by Feodor and asked how his leg felt. Michael and Natacha,
+in a corner, were deep in conversation, and Boris watched them with
+obvious impatience, still strumming the guzla. But the thing that struck
+Rouletabille's youthful imagination beyond all else was the mild face of
+the general. He had not imagined the terrible Trebassof with so paternal
+and sympathetic an expression. The Paris papers had printed redoubtable
+pictures of him, more or less authentic, but the arts of photography and
+engraving had cut vigorous, rough features of an official--who knew no
+pity. Such pictures were in perfect accord with the idea one naturally
+had of the dominating figure of the government at Moscow, the man who,
+during eight days--the Red Week--had made so many corpses of students
+and workmen that the halls of the University and the factories had
+opened their doors since in vain. The dead would have had to arise for
+those places to be peopled! Days of terrible battle where in one quarter
+or another of the city there was naught but massacre or burnings, until
+Matrena Petrovna and her step-daughter, Natacha (all the papers told of
+it), had fallen on their knees before the general and begged terms for
+the last of the revolutionaries, at bay in the Presnia quarter, and had
+been refused by him. "War is war," had been his answer, with irrefutable
+logic. "How can you ask mercy for these men who never give it?" Be it
+said for the young men of the barricades that they never surrendered,
+and equally be it said for Trebassof that he necessarily shot them.
+"If I had only myself to consider," the general had said to a Paris
+journalist, "I could have been gentle as a lamb with these unfortunates,
+and so I should not now myself be condemned to death. After all, I fail
+to see what they reproach me with. I have served my master as a brave
+and loyal subject, no more, and, after the fighting, I have let others
+ferret out the children that had hidden under their mothers' skirts.
+Everybody talks of the repression of Moscow, but let us speak, my
+friend, of the Commune. There was a piece of work I would not have
+done, to massacre within a court an unresisting crowd of men, women and
+children. I am a rough and faithful soldier of His Majesty, but I am
+not a monster, and I have the feelings of a husband and father, my dear
+monsieur. Tell your readers that, if you care to, and do not surmise
+further about whether I appear to regret being condemned to death."
+
+Certainly what stupefied Rouletabille now was this staunch figure of
+the condemned man who appeared so tranquilly to enjoy his life. When the
+general was not furthering the gayety of his friends he was talking with
+his wife and daughter, who adored him and continually fondled him, and
+he seemed perfectly happy. With his enormous grizzly mustache, his ruddy
+color, his keen, piercing eyes, he looked the typical spoiled father.
+
+The reporter studied all these widely-different types and made his
+observations while pretending to a ravenous appetite, which served,
+moreover, to fix him in the good graces of his hosts of the datcha des
+Iles. But, in reality, he passed the food to an enormous bull-dog
+under the table, in whose good graces he was also thus firmly planting
+himself. As Trebassof had prayed his companions to let his young friend
+satisfy his ravening hunger in peace, they did not concern themselves to
+entertain him. Then, too, the music served to distract attention from
+him, and at a moment somewhat later, when Matrena Petrovna turned to
+speak to the young man, she was frightened at not seeing him. Where had
+he gone? She went out into the veranda and looked. She did not dare to
+call. She walked into the grand-salon and saw the reporter just as he
+came out of the sitting-room.
+
+"Where were you?" she inquired.
+
+"The sitting-room is certainly charming, and decorated exquisitely,"
+complimented Rouletabille. "It seems almost a boudoir."
+
+"It does serve as a boudoir for my step-daughter, whose bedroom opens
+directly from it; you see the door there. It is simply for the present
+that the luncheon table is set there, because for some time the police
+have pre-empted the veranda."
+
+"Is your dog a watch-dog, madame?" asked Rouletabille, caressing the
+beast, which had followed him.
+
+"Khor is faithful and had guarded us well hitherto."
+
+"He sleeps now, then?"
+
+"Yes. Koupriane has him shut in the lodge to keep him from barking
+nights. Koupriane fears that if he is out he will devour one of the
+police who watch in the garden at night. I wanted him to sleep in the
+house, or by his master's door, or even at the foot of the bed, but
+Koupriane said, 'No, no; no dog. Don't rely on the dog. Nothing is more
+dangerous than to rely on the dog. 'Since then he has kept Khor locked
+up at night. But I do not understand Koupriane's idea."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane is right," said the reporter. "Dogs are useful only
+against strangers."
+
+"Oh," gasped the poor woman, dropping her eyes. "Koupriane certainly
+knows his business; he thinks of everything."
+
+"Come," she added rapidly, as though to hide her disquiet, "do not
+go out like that without letting me know. They want you in the
+dining-room."
+
+"I must have you tell me right now about this attempt."
+
+"In the dining-room, in the dining-room. In spite of myself," she said
+in a low voice, "it is stronger than I am. I am not able to leave the
+general by himself while he is on the ground-floor."
+
+She drew Rouletabille into the dining-room, where the gentlemen were now
+telling odd stories of street robberies amid loud laughter. Natacha was
+still talking with Michael Korsakoff; Boris, whose eyes never quitted
+them, was as pale as the wax on his guzla, which he rattled violently
+from time to time. Matrena made Rouletabille sit in a corner of the
+sofa, near her, and, counting on her fingers like a careful housewife
+who does not wish to overlook anything in her domestic calculations, she
+said:
+
+"There have been three attempts; the first two in Moscow. The first
+happened very simply. The general knew he had been condemned to
+death. They had delivered to him at the palace in the afternoon the
+revoluntionary poster which proclaimed his intended fate to the whole
+city and country. So Feodor, who was just about to ride into the city,
+dismissed his escort. He ordered horses put to a sleigh. I trembled and
+asked what he was going to do. He said he was going to drive quietly
+through all parts of the city, in order to show the Muscovites that a
+governor appointed according to law by the Little Father and who had in
+his conscience only the sense that he had done his full duty was not to
+be intimidated. It was nearly four o'clock, toward the end of a winter
+day that had been clear and bright, but very cold. I wrapped myself
+in my furs and took my seat beside him, and he said, 'This is fine,
+Matrena; this will have a great effect on these imbeciles.' So we
+started. At first we drove along the Naberjnaia. The sleigh glided like
+the wind. The general hit the driver a heavy blow in the back, crying,
+'Slower, fool; they will think we are afraid,' and so the horses
+were almost walking when, passing behind the Church of Protection and
+intercession, we reached the Place Rouge. Until then the few passers-by
+had looked at us, and as they recognized him, hurried along to keep
+him in view. At the Place Rouge there was only a little knot of women
+kneeling before the Virgin. As soon as these women saw us and recognized
+the equipage of the Governor, they dispersed like a flock of crows, with
+frightened cries. Feodor laughed so hard that as we passed under
+the vault of the Virgin his laugh seemed to shake the stones. I felt
+reassured, monsieur. Our promenade continued without any remarkable
+incident. The city was almost deserted. Everything lay prostrated under
+the awful blow of that battle in the street. Feodor said, 'Ah, they give
+me a wide berth; they do not know how much I love them," and all through
+that promenade he said many more charming and delicate things to me.
+
+"As we were talking pleasantly under our furs we came to la Place
+Koudrinsky, la rue Koudrinsky, to be exact. It was just four o'clock,
+and a light mist had commenced to mix with the sifting snow, and the
+houses to right and left were visible only as masses of shadow. We
+glided over the snow like a boat along the river in foggy calm. Then,
+suddenly, we heard piercing cries and saw shadows of soldiers rushing
+around, with movements that looked larger than human through the mist;
+their short whips looked enormous as they knocked some other shadows
+that we saw down like logs. The general stopped the sleigh and got out
+to see what was going on. I got out with him. They were soldiers of the
+famous Semenowsky regiment, who had two prisoners, a young man and a
+child. The child was being beaten on the nape of the neck. It writhed
+on the ground and cried in torment. It couldn't have been more than nine
+years old. The other, the young man, held himself up and marched
+along without a single cry as the thongs fell brutally upon him. I was
+appalled. I did not give my husband time to open his mouth before I
+called to the subaltern who commanded the detachment, 'You should be
+ashamed to strike a child and a Christian like that, which cannot defend
+itself.' The general told him the same thing. Then the subaltern told
+us that the little child had just killed a lieutenant in the street by
+firing a revolver, which he showed us, and it was the biggest one I
+ever have seen, and must have been as heavy for that infant to lift as a
+small cannon. It was unbelievable.
+
+"'And the other,' demanded the general; 'what has he done?'
+
+"'He is a dangerous student,' replied the subaltern, 'who has delivered
+himself up as a prisoner because he promised the landlord of the house
+where he lives that he would do it to keep the house from being battered
+down with cannon.'
+
+"'But that is right of him. Why do you beat him?'
+
+"'Because he has told us he is a dangerous student.'
+
+"'That is no reason,' Feodor told him. 'He will be shot if he deserves
+it, and the child also, but I forbid you to beat him. You have not been
+furnished with these whips in order to beat isolated prisoners, but to
+charge the crowd when it does not obey the governor's orders. In such a
+case you are ordered "Charge," and you know what to do. You understand?'
+Feodor said roughly. 'I am General Trebassof, your governor.'
+
+"Feodor was thoroughly human in saying this. Ah, well, he was badly
+compensed for it, very badly, I tell you. The student was truly
+dangerous, because he had no sooner heard my husband say, 'I am General
+Trebassof, your governor,' than he cried, 'Ah, is it you, Trebassoff'
+and drew a revolver from no one knows where and fired straight at
+the general, almost against his breast. But the general was not hit,
+happily, nor I either, who was by him and had thrown myself onto the
+student to disarm him and then was tossed about at the feet of the
+soldiers in the battle they waged around the student while the revolver
+was going off. Three soldiers were killed. You can understand that the
+others were furious. They raised me with many excuses and, all together,
+set to kicking the student in the loins and striking at him as he lay on
+the ground. The subaltern struck his face a blow that might have blinded
+him. Feodor hit the officer in the head with his fist and called,
+'Didn't you hear what I said?' The officer fell under the blow and
+Feodor himself carried him to the sleigh and laid him with the dead
+men. Then he took charge of the soldiers and led them to the barracks.
+I followed, as a sort of after-guard. We returned to the palace an hour
+later. It was quite dark by then, and almost at the entrance to the
+palace we were shot at by a group of revolutionaries who passed swiftly
+in two sleighs and disappeared in the darkness so fast that they could
+not be overtaken. I had a ball in my toque. The general had not been
+touched this time either, but our furs were ruined by the blood of the
+dead soldiers which they had forgotten to clean out of the sleigh. That
+was the first attempt, which meant little enough, after all, because it
+was fighting in the open. It was some days later that they commenced to
+try assassination."
+
+At this moment Ermolai brought in four bottles of champagne and Thaddeus
+struck lightly on the piano.
+
+"Quickly, madame, the second attempt," said Rouletabille, who was
+aking hasty notes on his cuff, never ceasing, meanwhile, to watch the
+convivial group and listening with both ears wide open to Matrena.
+
+"The second happened still in Moscow. We had had a jolly dinner because
+we thought that at last the good old days were back and good citizens
+could live in peace; and Boris had tried out the guzla singing songs of
+the Orel country to please me; he is so fine and sympathetic. Natacha
+had gone somewhere or other. The sleigh was waiting at the door and we
+went out and got in. Almost instantly there was a fearful noise, and we
+were thrown out into the snow, both the general and me. There remained
+no trace of sleigh or coachman; the two horses were disemboweled, two
+magnificent piebald horses, my dear young monsieur, that the general
+was so attached to. As to Feodor, he had that serious wound in his right
+leg; the calf was shattered. I simply had my shoulder a little wrenched,
+practically nothing. The bomb had been placed under the seat of the
+unhappy coachman, whose hat alone we found, in a pool of blood. From
+that attack the general lay two months in bed. In the second month they
+arrested two servants who were caught one night on the landing leading
+to the upper floor, where they had no business, and after that I sent
+at once for our old domestics in Orel to come and serve us. It
+was discovered that these detected servants were in touch with
+the revolutionaries, so they were hanged. The Emperor appointed a
+provisional governor, and now that the general was better we decided
+on a convalescence for him in the midi of France. We took train for
+St. Petersburg, but the journey started high fever in my husband and
+reopened the wound in his calf. The doctors ordered absolute rest and so
+we settled here in the datcha des Iles. Since then, not a day has passed
+without the general receiving an anonymous letter telling him that
+nothing can save him from the revenge of the revolutionaries. He is
+brave and only smiles over them, but for me, I know well that so long as
+we are in Russia we have not a moment's security. So I watch him every
+minute and let no one approach him except his intimate friends and us
+of the family. I have brought an old gniagnia who watched me grow up,
+Ermolai, and the Orel servants. In the meantime, two months later, the
+third attempt suddenly occurred. It is certainly of them all the most
+frightening, because it is so mysterious, a mystery that has not yet,
+alas, been solved."
+
+But Athanase Georgevitch had told a "good story" which raised so much
+hubbub that nothing else could be heard. Feodor Feodorovitch was so
+amused that he had tears in his eyes. Rouletabille said to himself
+as Matrena talked, "I never have seen men so gay, and yet they know
+perfectly they are apt to be blown up all together any moment."
+
+General Trebassof, who had steadily watched Rouletabille, who, for that
+matter, had been kept in eye by everyone there, said:
+
+"Eh, eh, monsieur le journaliste, you find us very gay?"
+
+"I find you very brave," said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+"How is that?" said Feodor Feodorovitch, smiling.
+
+"You must pardon me for thinking of the things that you seem to have
+forgotten entirely."
+
+He indicated the general's wounded leg.
+
+"The chances of war! the chances of war!" said the general. "A leg here,
+an arm there. But, as you see, I am still here. They will end by growing
+tired and leaving me in peace. Your health, my friend!"
+
+"Your health, general!"
+
+"You understand," continued Feodor Feodorovitch, "there is no occasion
+to excite ourselves. It is our business to defend the empire at the
+peril of our lives. We find that quite natural, and there is no occasion
+to think of it. I have had terrors enough in other directions, not to
+speak of the terrors of love, that are more ferocious than you can
+yet imagine. Look at what they did to my poor friend the Chief of the
+Surete, Boichlikoff. He was commendable certainly. There was a brave
+man. Of an evening, when his work was over, he always left the bureau of
+the prefecture and went to join his wife and children in their apartment
+in the ruelle des Loups. Not a soldier! No guard! The others had every
+chance. One evening a score of revolutionaries, after having driven away
+the terrorized servants, mounted to his apartments. He was dining with
+his family. They knocked and he opened the door. He saw who they were,
+and tried to speak. They gave him no time. Before his wife and children,
+mad with terror and on their knees before the revolutionaries, they read
+him his death-sentence. A fine end that to a dinner!"
+
+As he listened Rouletabille paled and he kept his eyes on the door as
+if he expected to see it open of itself, giving access to ferocious
+Nihilists of whom one, with a paper in his hand, would read the sentence
+of death to Feodor Feodorovitch. Rouletabille's stomach was not yet
+seasoned to such stories. He almost regretted, momentarily, having
+taken the terrible responsibility of dismissing the police. After what
+Koupriane had confided to him of things that had happened in this house,
+he had not hesitated to risk everything on that audacious decision, but
+all the same, all the same--these stories of Nihilists who appear at the
+end of a meal, death-sentence in hand, they haunted him, they upset him.
+Certainly it had been a piece of foolhardiness to dismiss the police!
+
+"Well," he asked, conquering his misgivings and resuming, as always, his
+confidence in himself, "then, what did they do then, after reading the
+sentence?"
+
+"The Chief of the Surete knew he had no time to spare. He did not ask
+for it. The revolutionaries ordered him to bid his family farewell.
+He raised his wife, his children, clasped them, bade them be of good
+courage, then said he was ready. They took him into the street. They
+stood him against a wall. His wife and children watched from a window.
+A volley sounded. They descended to secure the body, pierced with
+twenty-five bullets."
+
+"That was exactly the number of wounds that were made on the body of
+little Jacques Zloriksky," came in the even tones of Natacha.
+
+"Oh, you, you always find an excuse," grumbled the general. "Poor
+Boichlikoff did his duty, as I did mine.
+
+"Yes, papa, you acted like a soldier. That is what the revolutionaries
+ought not to forget. But have no fears for us, papa; because if they
+kill you we will all die with you."
+
+"And gayly too," declared Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+"They should come this evening. We are in form!"
+
+Upon which Athanase filled the glasses again.
+
+"None the less, permit me to say," ventured the timber-merchant,
+Thaddeus Tchnitchnikof, timidly, "permit me to say that this Boichlikoff
+was very imprudent."
+
+"Yes, indeed, very gravely imprudent," agreed Rouletabille. "When a man
+has had twenty-five good bullets shot into the body of a child, he ought
+certainly to keep his home well guarded if he wishes to dine in peace."
+
+He stammered a little toward the end of this, because it occurred to him
+that it was a little inconsistent to express such opinions, seeing what
+he had done with the guard over the general.
+
+"Ah," cried Athanase Georgevitch, in a stage-struck voice, "Ah, it was
+not imprudence! It was contempt of death! Yes, it was contempt of death
+that killed him! Even as the contempt of death keeps us, at this moment,
+in perfect health. To you, ladies and gentlemen! Do you know anything
+lovelier, grander, in the world than contempt of death? Gaze on Feodor
+Feodorovitch and answer me. Superb! My word, superb! To you all! The
+revolutionaries who are not of the police are of the same mind regarding
+our heroes. They may curse the tchinownicks who execute the terrible
+orders given them by those higher up, but those who are not of the
+police (there are some, I believe)--these surely recognize that men like
+the Chief of the Surete our dead friend, are brave."
+
+"Certainly," endorsed the general. "Counting all things, they need more
+heroism for a promenade in a salon than a soldier on a battle-field."
+
+"I have met some of these men," continued Athanase in exalted vein. "I
+have found in all their homes the same--imprudence, as our young French
+friend calls it. A few days after the assassination of the Chief of
+Police in Moscow I was received by his successor in the same place where
+the assassination had occurred. He did not take the slightest precaution
+with me, whom he did not know at all, nor with men of the middle class
+who came to present their petitions, in spite of the fact that it was
+under precisely identical conditions that his predecessor had been
+slain. Before I left I looked over to where on the floor there had so
+recently occurred such agony. They had placed a rug there and on the rug
+a table, and on that table there was a book. Guess what book. 'Women's
+Stockings,' by Willy! And--and then--Your health, Matrena Petrovna.
+What's the odds!"
+
+"You yourselves, my friends," declared the general, "prove your great
+courage by coming to share the hours that remain of my life with me."
+
+"Not at all, not at all! It is war."
+
+"Yes, it is war."
+
+"Oh, there's no occasion to pat us on the shoulder, Athanase," insisted
+Thaddeus modestly. "What risk do we run? We are well guarded."
+
+"We are protected by the finger of God," declared Athanase, "because the
+police--well, I haven't any confidence in the police."
+
+Michael Korsakoff, who had been for a turn in the garden, entered during
+the remark.
+
+"Be happy, then, Athanase Georgevitch," said he, "for there are now no
+police around the villa."
+
+"Where are they?" inquired the timber-merchant uneasily.
+
+"An order came from Koupriane to remove them," explained Matrena
+Petrovna, who exerted herself to appear calm.
+
+"And are they not replaced?" asked Michael.
+
+"No. It is incomprehensible. There must have been some confusion in the
+orders given." And Matrena reddened, for she loathed a lie and it was
+in tribulation of spirit that she used this fable under Rouletabille's
+directions.
+
+"Oh, well, all the better," said the general. "It will give me pleasure
+to see my home ridded for a while of such people."
+
+Athanase was naturally of the same mind as the general, and when
+Thaddeus and Ivan Petrovitch and the orderlies offered to pass the
+night at the villa and take the place of the absent police, Feodor
+Feodorovitch caught a gesture from Rouletabille which disapproved the
+idea of this new guard.
+
+"No, no," cried the general emphatically. "You leave at the usual time.
+I want now to get back into the ordinary run of things, my word! To
+live as everyone else does. We shall be all right. Koupriane and I have
+arranged the matter. Koupriane is less sure of his men, after all,
+than I am of my servants. You understand me. I do not need to explain
+further. You will go home to bed--and we will all sleep. Those are the
+orders. Besides, you must remember that the guard-post is only a step
+from here, at the corner of the road, and we have only to give a signal
+to bring them all here. But--more secret agents or special police--no,
+no! Good-night. All of us to bed now!"
+
+They did not insist further. When Feodor had said, "Those are the
+orders," there was room for nothing more, not even in the way of polite
+insistence.
+
+But before going to their beds all went into the veranda, where
+liqueurs were served by the brave Ermolai, as always. Matrena pushed
+the wheel-chair of the general there, and he kept repeating, "No, no. No
+more such people. No more police. They only bring trouble."
+
+"Feodor! Feodor!" sighed Matrena, whose anxiety deepened in spite of all
+she could do, "they watched over your dear life."
+
+"Life is dear to me only because of you, Matrena Petrovna."
+
+"And not at all because of me, papa?" said Natacha.
+
+"Oh, Natacha!"
+
+He took both her hands in his. It was an affecting glimpse of family
+intimacy.
+
+From time to time, while Ermolai poured the liqueurs, Feodor struck his
+band on the coverings over his leg.
+
+"It gets better," said he. "It gets better."
+
+Then melancholy showed in his rugged face, and he watched night deepen
+over the isles, the golden night of St. Petersburg. It was not quite yet
+the time of year for what they call the golden nights there, the "white
+nights," nights which never deepen to darkness, but they were already
+beautiful in their soft clarity, caressed, here by the Gulf of Finland,
+almost at the same time by the last and the first rays of the sun, by
+twilight and dawn.
+
+From the height of the veranda one of the most beautiful bits of the
+isles lay in view, and the hour was so lovely that its charm thrilled
+these people, of whom several, as Thaddeus, were still close to nature.
+It was he, first, who called to Natacha:
+
+"Natacha! Natacha! Sing us your 'Soir des Iles.'"
+
+Natacha's voice floated out upon the peace of the islands under the
+dim arched sky, light and clear as a night rose, and the guzla of Boris
+accompanied it. Natacha sang:
+
+"This is the night of the Isles--at the north of the world. The sky
+presses in its stainless arms the bosom of earth, Night kisses the rose
+that dawn gave to the twilight. And the night air is sweet and fresh
+from across the shivering gulf, Like the breath of young girls from the
+world still farther north. Beneath the two lighted horizons, sinking and
+rising at once, The sun rolls rebounding from the gods at the north of
+the world. In this moment, beloved, when in the clear shadows of this
+rose-stained evening I am here alone with you, Respond, respond with a
+heart less timid to the holy, accustomed  cry of 'Good-evening.'"
+
+Ah, how Boris Nikolaievitch and Michael Korsakoff watched her as she
+sang! Truly, no one ever can guess the anger or the love that broods in
+a Slavic heart under a soldier's tunic, whether the soldier wisely plays
+at the guzla, as the correct Boris, or merely lounges, twirling his
+mustache with his manicured and perfumed fingers, like Michael, the
+indifferent.
+
+Natacha ceased singing, but all seemed to be listening to her still--the
+convivial group on the terrace appeared to be held in charmed attention,
+and the porcelain statuettes of men on the lawn, according to the mode
+of the Iles, seemed to lift on their short legs the better to hear pass
+the sighing harmony of Natacha in the rose nights at the north of the
+world.
+
+Meanwhile Matrena wandered through the house from cellar to attic,
+watching over her husband like a dog on guard, ready to bite, to throw
+itself in the way of danger, to receive the blows, to die for its
+master--and hunting for Rouletabille, who had disappeared again.
+
+
+
+
+III. THE WATCH
+
+She went out to caution the servants to a strict watch, armed to the
+teeth, before the gate all night long, and she crossed the deserted
+garden. Under the veranda the schwitzar was spreading a mattress for
+Ermolai. She asked him if he had seen the young Frenchman anywhere, and
+after the answer, could only say to herself, "Where is he, then?" Where
+had Rouletabille gone? The general, whom she had carried up to his
+room on her back, without any help, and had helped into bed without
+assistance, was disturbed by this singular disappearance. Had someone
+already carried off "their" Rouletabille? Their friends were gone and
+the orderlies had taken leave without being able to say where this boy
+of a journalist had gone. But it would be foolish to worry about the
+disappearance of a Journalist, they had said. That kind of man--these
+journalists--came, went, arrived when one least expected them, and
+quitted their company--even the highest society--without formality. It
+was what they called in France "leaving English fashion." However,
+it appeared it was not meant to be impolite. Perhaps he had gone to
+telegraph. A journalist had to keep in touch with the telegraph at all
+hours. Poor Matrena Petrovna roamed the solitary garden in tumult of
+heart. There was the light in the general's window on the first floor.
+There were lights in the basement from the kitchens. There was a light
+on the ground-floor near the sitting-room, from Natacha's chamber
+window. Ah, the night was hard to bear. And this night the shadows
+weighed heavier than ever on the valiant breast of Matrena. As she
+breathed she felt as though she lifted all the weight of the threatening
+night. She examined everything--everything. All was shut tight, was
+perfectly secure, and there was no one within excepting people she was
+absolutely sure of--but whom, all the same, she did not allow to go
+anywhere in the house excepting where their work called them. Each in
+his place. That made things surer. She wished each one could remain
+fixed like the porcelain statues of men out on the lawn. Even as she
+thought it, here at her feet, right at her very feet, a shadow of one
+of the porcelain men moved, stretched itself out, rose to its knees,
+grasped her skirt and spoke in the voice of Rouletabille. Ah, good! it
+was Rouletabille. "Himself, dear madame; himself."
+
+"Why is Ermolai in the veranda? Send him back to the kitchens and tell
+the schwitzar to go to bed. The servants are enough for an ordinary
+guard outside. Then you go in at once, shut the door, and don't concern
+yourself about me, dear madame. Good-night."
+
+Rouletabille had resumed, in the shadows, among the other porcelain
+figures, his pose of a porcelain man.
+
+Matrena Petrovna did as she was told, returned to the house, spoke to
+the schwitzar, who removed to the lodge with Ermolai, and their mistress
+closed the outside door. She had closed long before the door of the
+kitchen stair which allowed the domestics to enter the villa from below.
+Down there each night the devoted gniagnia and the faithful Ermolai
+watched in turn.
+
+Within the villa, now closed, there were on the ground-floor only
+Matrena herself and her step-daughter Natacha, who slept in the chamber
+off the sitting-room, and, above on the first floor, the general asleep,
+or who ought to be asleep if he had taken his potion. Matrena remained
+in the darkness of the drawing-room, her dark-lantern in her hand.
+All her nights passed thus, gliding from door to door, from chamber to
+chamber, watching over the watch of the police, not daring to stop her
+stealthy promenade even to throw herself on the mattress that she had
+placed across the doorway of her husband's chamber. Did she ever sleep?
+She herself could hardly say. Who else could, then? A tag of sleep here
+and there, over the arm of a chair, or leaning against the wall, waked
+always by some noise that she heard or dreamed, some warning, perhaps,
+that she alone had heard. And to-night, to-night there is Rouletabille's
+alert guard to help her, and she feels a little less the aching terror
+of watchfulness, until there surges back into her mind the recollection
+that the police are no longer there. Was he right, this young man?
+Certainly she could not deny that some way she feels more confidence now
+that the police are gone. She does not have to spend her time watching
+their shadows in the shadows, searching the darkness, the arm-chairs,
+the sofas, to rouse them, to appeal in low tones to all they held
+binding, by their own name and the name of their father, to promise them
+a bonus that would amount to something if they watched well, to count
+them in order to know where they all were, and, suddenly, to throw full
+in their face the ray of light from her little dark-lantern in order to
+be sure, absolutely sure, that she was face to face with them, one of
+the police, and not with some other, some other with an infernal machine
+under his arm. Yes, she surely had less work now that she had no longer
+to watch the police. And she had less fear!
+
+She thanked the young reporter for that. Where was he? Did he remain in
+the pose of a porcelain statue all this time out there on the lawn? She
+peered through the lattice of the veranda shutters and looked anxiously
+out into the darkened garden. Where could he be? Was that he, down
+yonder, that crouching black heap with an unlighted pipe in his mouth?
+No, no. That, she knew well, was the dwarf she genuinely loved, her
+little domovoi-doukh, the familiar spirit of the house, who watched with
+her over the general's life and thanks to whom serious injury had not
+yet befallen Feodor Feodorovitch--one could not regard a mangled leg
+that seriously. Ordinarily in her own country (she was from the Orel
+district) one did not care to see the domovoi-doukh appear in flesh and
+blood. When she was little she was always afraid that she would come
+upon him around a turn of the path in her father's garden. She always
+thought of him as no higher than that, seated back on his haunches and
+smoking his pipe. Then, after she was married, she had suddenly run
+across him at a turning in the bazaar at Moscow. He was just as she
+had imagined him, and she had immediately bought him, carried him
+home herself and placed him, with many precautions, for he was of very
+delicate porcelain, in the vestibule of the palace. And in leaving
+Moscow she had been careful not to leave him there. She had carried him
+herself in a case and had placed him herself on the lawn of the datcha
+des Iles, that he might continue to watch over her happiness and over
+the life of her Feodor. And in order that he should not be bored,
+eternally smoking his pipe all alone, she had surrounded him with a
+group of little porcelain genii, after the fashion of the Jardins des
+Iles. Lord! how that young Frenchman had frightened her, rising suddenly
+like that, without warning, on the lawn. She had believed for a moment
+that it was the domovoi-doukh himself rising to stretch his legs.
+Happily he had spoken at once and she had recognized his voice. And
+besides, her domovoi surely would not speak French. Ah! Matrena Petrovna
+breathed freely now. It seemed to her, this night, that there were two
+little familiar genii watching over the house. And that was worth more
+than all the police in the world, surely. How wily that little fellow
+was to order all those men away. There was something it was necessary
+to know; it was necessary therefore that nothing should be in the way
+of learning it. As things were now, the mystery could operate without
+suspicion or interference. Only one man watched it, and he had not the
+air of watching. Certainly Rouletabille had not the air of constantly
+watching anything. He had the manner, out in the night, of an easy
+little man in porcelain, neither more nor less, yet he could
+see everything--if anything were there to see--and he could hear
+everything--if there were anything to hear. One passed beside him
+without suspecting him, and men might talk to each other without an idea
+that he heard them, and even talk to themselves according to the habit
+people have sometimes when they think themselves quite alone. All the
+guests had departed thus, passing close by him, almost brushing him,
+had exchanged their "Adieus," their "Au revoirs," and all their final,
+drawn-out farewells. That dear little living domovoi certainly was a
+rogue! Oh, that dear little domovoi who had been so affected by the
+tears of Matrena Petrovna! The good, fat, sentimental, heroic woman
+longed to hear, just then, his reassuring voice.
+
+"It is I. Here I am," said the voice of her little living familiar
+spirit at that instant, and she felt her skirt grasped. She waited
+for what he should say. She felt no fear. Yet she had supposed he was
+outside the house. Still, after all, she was not too astonished that he
+was within. He was so adroit! He had entered behind her, in the shadow
+of her skirts, on all-fours, and had slipped away without anyone
+noticing him, while she was speaking to her enormous, majestic
+schwitzar.
+
+"So you were here?" she said, taking his hand and pressing it nervously
+in hers.
+
+"Yes, yes. I have watched you closing the house. It is a task well-done,
+certainly. You have not forgotten anything."
+
+"But where were you, dear little demon? I have been into all the
+corners, and my hands did not touch you."
+
+"I was under the table set with hors-d'oeuvres in the sitting-room."
+
+"Ah, under the table of zakouskis! I have forbidden them before now
+to spread a long hanging cloth there, which obliges me to kick my foot
+underneath casually in order to be sure there is no one beneath. It is
+imprudent, very imprudent, such table-cloths. And under the table of
+zakouskis have you been able to see or hear anything?"
+
+"Madame, do you think that anyone could possibly see or hear anything in
+the villa when you are watching it alone, when the general is asleep and
+your step-daughter is preparing for bed?"
+
+"No. No. I do not believe so. I do not. No, oh, Christ!"
+
+They talked thus very low in the dark, both seated in a corner of the
+sofa, Rouletabille's hand held tightly in the burning hands of Matrena
+Petrovna.
+
+She sighed anxiously. "And in the garden--have you heard anything?"
+
+"I heard the officer Boris say to the officer Michael, in French, 'Shall
+we return at once to the villa?' The other replied in Russian in a way I
+could see was a refusal. Then they had a discussion in Russian which I,
+naturally, could not understand. But from the way they talked I gathered
+that they disagreed and that no love was lost between them."
+
+"No, they do not love each other. They both love Natacha."
+
+"And she, which one of them does she love? It is necessary to tell me."
+
+"She pretends that she loves Boris, and I believe she does, and yet she
+is very friendly with Michael and often she goes into nooks and corners
+to chat with him, which makes Boris mad with jealousy. She has forbidden
+Boris to speak to her father about their marriage, on the pretext that
+she does not wish to leave her father now, while each day, each minute
+the general's life is in danger."
+
+"And you, madame--do you love your step-daughter?" brutally inquired the
+reporter.
+
+"Yes--sincerely," replied Matrena Petrovna, withdrawing her hand from
+those of Rouletabille.
+
+"And she--does she love you?"
+
+"I believe so, monsieur, I believe so sincerely. Yes, she loves me,
+and there is not any reason why she should not love me. I
+believe--understand me thoroughly, because it comes from my heart--that
+we all here in this house love one another. Our friends are old proved
+friends. Boris has been orderly to my husband for a very long time.
+We do not share any of his too-modern ideas, and there were many
+discussions on the duty of soldiers at the time of the massacres. I
+reproached him with being as womanish as we were in going down on his
+knees to the general behind Natacha and me, when it became necessary to
+kill all those poor moujiks of Presnia. It was not his role. A soldier
+is a soldier. My husband raised him roughly and ordered him, for his
+pains, to march at the head of the troops. It was right. What else could
+he do? The general already had enough to fight against, with the whole
+revolution, with his conscience, with the natural pity in his heart of
+a brave man, and with the tears and insupportable moanings, at such a
+moment, of his daughter and his wife. Boris understood and obeyed him,
+but, after the death of the poor students, he behaved again like a woman
+in composing those verses on the heroes of the barricades; don't you
+think so? Verses that Natacha and he learned by heart, working together,
+when they were surprised at it by the general. There was a terrible
+scene. It was before the next-to-the-last attack. The general then had
+the use of both legs. He stamped his feet and fairly shook the house."
+
+"Madame," said Rouletabille, "a propos of the attacks, you must tell me
+about the third."
+
+As he said this, leaning toward her, Matrena Petrovna ejaculated a
+"Listen!" that made him rigid in the night with ear alert. What had she
+heard? For him, he had heard nothing.
+
+"You hear nothing?" she whispered to him with an effort. "A tick-tack?"
+
+"No, I hear nothing."
+
+"You know--like the tick-tack of a clock. Listen."
+
+"How can you hear the tick-tack? I've noticed that no clocks are running
+here."
+
+"Don't you understand? It is so that we shall be able to hear the
+tick-tack better."
+
+"Oh, yes, I understand. But I do not hear anything."
+
+"For myself, I think I hear the tick-tack all the time since the last
+attempt. It haunts my ears, it is frightful, to say to one's self: There
+is clockwork somewhere, just about to reach the death-tick--and not to
+know where, not to know where! When the police were here I made them
+all listen, and I was not sure even when they had all listened and said
+there was no tick-tack. It is terrible to hear it in my ear any moment
+when I least expect it. Tick-tack! Tick-tack! It is the blood beating
+in my ear, for instance, hard, as if it struck on a sounding-board. Why,
+here are drops of perspiration on my hands! Listen!"
+
+"Ah, this time someone is talking--is crying," said the young man.
+
+"Sh-h-h!" And Rouletabille felt the rigid hand of Matrena Petrovna on
+his arm. "It is the general. The general is dreaming!"
+
+She drew him into the dining-room, into a corner where they could no
+longer hear the moanings. But all the doors that communicated with the
+dining-room, the drawing-room and the sitting-room remained open behind
+him, by the secret precaution of Rouletabille.
+
+He waited while Matrena, whose breath he heard come hard, was a little
+behind. In a moment, quite talkative, and as though she wished to
+distract Rouletabille's attention from the sounds above, the broken
+words and sighs, she continued:
+
+"See, you speak of clocks. My husband has a watch which strikes. Well,
+I have stopped his watch because more than once I have been startled by
+hearing the tick-tack of his watch in his waistcoat-pocket. Koupriane
+gave me that advice one day when he was here and had pricked his ears
+at the noise of the pendulums, to stop all my watches and clocks so that
+there would be no chance of confusing them with the tick-tack that might
+come from an infernal machine planted in some corner. He spoke from
+experience, my dear little monsieur, and it was by his order that all
+the clocks at the Ministry, on the Naberjnaia, were stopped, my dear
+little friend. The Nihilists, he told me, often use clockworks to set
+off their machines at the time they decide on. No one can guess all the
+inventions that they have, those brigands. In the same way, Koupriane
+advised me to take away all the draught-boards from the fireplaces. By
+that precaution they were enabled to avoid a terrible disaster at the
+Ministry near the Pont-des-chantres, you know, petit demovoi? They saw a
+bomb just as it was being lowered into the fire-place of the minister's
+cabinet.* The Nihilists held it by a cord and were up on the roof
+letting it down the chimney. One of them was caught, taken to
+Schlusselbourg and hanged. Here you can see that all the
+draught-boards of the fireplaces are cleared away."
+
+     *Actual attack on Witte.
+
+"Madame," interrupted Rouletabille (Matrena Petrovna did not know that
+no one ever succeeded in distracting Rouletabille's attention), "madame,
+someone moans still, upstairs."
+
+"Oh, that is nothing, my little friend. It is the general, who has bad
+nights. He cannot sleep without a narcotic, and that gives him a fever.
+I am going to tell you now how the third attack came about. And then you
+will understand, by the Virgin Mary, how it is I have yet, always have,
+the tick-tack in my ears.
+
+"One evening when the general had got to sleep and I was in my own room,
+I heard distinctly the tick-tack of clockwork operating. All the clocks
+had been stopped, as Koupriane advised, and I had made an excuse to send
+Feodor's great watch to the repairer. You can understand how I felt
+when I heard that tick-tack. I was frenzied. I turned my head in all
+directions, and decided that the sound came from my husband's chamber. I
+ran there. He still slept, man that he is! The tick-tack was there. But
+where? I turned here and there like a fool. The chamber was in darkness
+and it seemed absolutely impossible for me to light a lamp because I
+thought I could not take the time for fear the infernal machine would go
+off in those few seconds. I threw myself on the floor and listened
+under the bed. The noise came from above. But where? I sprang to the
+fireplace, hoping that, against my orders, someone had started the
+mantel-clock. No, it was not that! It seemed to me now that the
+tick-tack came from the bed itself, that the machine was in the bed. The
+general awaked just then and cried to me, 'What is it, Matrena? What are
+you doing?' And he raised himself in bed, while I cried, 'Listen! Hear
+the tick-tack. Don't you hear the tick-tack?' I threw myself upon him
+and gathered him up in my arms to carry him, but I trembled too much,
+was too weak from fear, and fell back with him onto the bed, crying,
+'Help!' He thrust me away and said roughly, 'Listen.' The frightful
+tick-tack was behind us now, on the table. But there was nothing on the
+table, only the night-light, the glass with the potion in it, and a
+gold vase where I had placed with my own hands that morning a cluster
+of grasses and wild flowers that Ermolai had brought that morning on his
+return from the Orel country. With one bound I was on the table and at
+the flowers. I struck my fingers among the grasses and the flowers, and
+felt a resistance. The tick-tack was in the bouquet! I took the bouquet
+in both hands, opened the window and threw it as far as I could into the
+garden. At the same moment the bomb burst with a terrible noise, giving
+me quite a deep wound in the hand. Truly, my dear little domovoi, that
+day we had been very near death, but God and the Little Father watched
+over us."
+
+And Matrena Petrovna made the sign of the cross.
+
+"All the windows of the house were broken. In all, we escaped with the
+fright and a visit from the glazier, my little friend, but I certainly
+believed that all was over."
+
+"And Mademoiselle Natacha?" inquired Rouletabille. "She must also have
+been terribly frightened, because the whole house must have rocked."
+
+"Surely. But Natacha was not here that night. It was a Saturday. She
+had been invited to the soiree du 'Michel' by the parents of Boris
+Nikolaievitch, and she slept at their house, after supper at the Ours,
+as had been planned. The next day, when she learned the danger the
+general had escaped, she trembled in every limb. She threw herself in
+her father's arms, weeping, which was natural enough, and declared that
+she never would go away from him again. The general told her how I had
+managed. Then she pressed me to her heart, saying that she never would
+forget such an action, and that she loved me more than if I were truly
+her mother. It was all in vain that during the days following we sought
+to understand how the infernal machine had been placed in the bouquet
+of wild flowers. Only the general's friends that you saw this evening,
+Natacha and I had entered the general's chamber during the day or in
+the evening. No servant, no chamber-maid, had been on that floor. In
+the day-time as well as all night long that entire floor is closed and I
+have the keys. The door of the servants' staircase which opens onto that
+floor, directly into the general's chamber, is always locked and barred
+on the inside with iron. Natacha and I do the chamber work. There is no
+way of taking greater precautions. Three police agents watched over
+us night and day. The night of the bouquet two had spent their time
+watching around the house, and the third lay on the sofa in the veranda.
+Then, too, we found all the doors and windows of the villa shut tight.
+In such circumstances you can judge whether my anguish was not deeper
+than any I had known hitherto. Because to whom, henceforth, could we
+trust ourselves? what and whom could we believe? what and whom could we
+watch? From that day, no other person but Natacha and me have the right
+to go to the first floor. The general's chamber was forbidden to his
+friends. Anyway, the general improved, and soon had the pleasure of
+receiving them himself at his table. I carry the general down and take
+him to his room again on my back. I do not wish anyone to help. I am
+strong enough for that. I feel that I could carry him to the end of the
+world if that would save him. Instead of three police, we had ten; five
+outside, five inside. The days went well enough, but the nights were
+frightful, because the shadows of the police that I encountered always
+made me fear that I was face to face with the Nihilists. One night I
+almost strangled one with my hand. It was after that incident that we
+arranged with Koupriane that the agents who watched at night, inside,
+should stay placed in the veranda, after having, at the end of the
+evening, made complete examination of everything. They were not to leave
+the veranda unless they heard a suspicious noise or I called to them.
+And it was after that arrangement that the incident of the floor
+happened, that has puzzled so both Koupriane and me."
+
+"Pardon, madame," interrupted Rouletabille, "but the agents, during the
+examination of everything, never went to the bedroom floor?"
+
+"No, my child, there is only myself and Natacha, I repeat, who, since
+the bouquet, go there."
+
+"Well, madame, it is necessary to take me there at once."
+
+"At once!"
+
+"Yes, into the general's chamber."
+
+"But he is sleeping, my child. Let me tell you exactly how the affair
+of the floor happened, and you will know as much of it as I and as
+Koupriane."
+
+"To the general's chamber at once."
+
+She took both his hands and pressed them nervously. "Little friend!
+Little friend! One hears there sometimes things which are the secret of
+the night! You understand me?"
+
+"To the general's chamber, at once, madame."
+
+Abruptly she decided to take him there, agitated, upset as she was by
+ideas and sentiments which held her without respite between the wildest
+inquietude and the most imprudent audacity.
+
+
+
+
+IV. "THE YOUTH OF MOSCOW IS DEAD"
+
+Rouletabille let himself be led by Matrena through the night, but he
+stumbled and his awkward hands struck against various things. The ascent
+to the first floor was accomplished in profound silence. Nothing broke
+it except that restless moaning which had so affected the young man just
+before.
+
+The tepid warmth, the perfume of a woman's boudoir, then, beyond,
+through two doors opening upon the dressing-room which lay between
+Matrena's chamber and Feodor's, the dim luster of a night-lamp showed
+the bed where was stretched the sleeping tyrant of Moscow. Ah, he was
+frightening to see, with the play of faint yellow light and diffused
+shadows upon him. Such heavy-arched eyebrows, such an aspect of pain and
+menace, the massive jaw of a savage come from the plains of Tartary to
+be the Scourge of God, the stiff, thick, spreading beard. This was a
+form akin to the gallery of old nobles at Kasan, and young Rouletabille
+imagined him as none other than Ivan the Terrible himself. Thus appeared
+as he slept the excellent Feodor Feodorovitch, the easy, spoiled father
+of the family table, the friend of the advocate celebrated for his feats
+with knife and fork and of the bantering timber-merchant and amiable
+bear-hunter, the joyous Thaddeus and Athanase; Feodor, the faithful
+spouse of Matrena Petrovna and the adored papa of Natacha, a brave
+man who was so unfortunate as to have nights of cruel sleeplessness or
+dreams more frightful still.
+
+At that moment a hoarse sigh heaved his huge chest in an uneven
+rhythm, and Rouletabille, leaning in the doorway of the dressing-room,
+watched--but it was no longer the general that he watched, it was
+something else, lower down, beside the wall, near the door, and it was
+that which set him tiptoeing so lightly across the floor that it gave
+no sound. There was no slightest sound in the chamber, except the heavy
+breathing lifting the rough chest. Behind Rouletabille Matrena raised
+her arms, as though she wished to hold him back, because she did not
+know where he was going. What was he doing? Why did he stoop thus beside
+the door and why did he press his thumb all along the floor at the
+doorway? He rose again and returned. He passed again before the bed,
+where rumbled now, like the bellows of a forge, the respiration of the
+sleeper. Matrena grasped Rouletabille by the hand. And she had already
+hurried him into the dressing-room when a moan stopped them.
+
+"The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+It was the sleeper speaking. The mouth which had given the stringent
+orders moaned. And the lamentation was still a menace. In the haunted
+sleep thrust upon that man by the inadequate narcotic the words Feodor
+Feodorovitch spoke were words of mourning and pity. This perfect fiend
+of a soldier, whom neither bullets nor bombs could intimidate, had a way
+of saying words which transformed their meaning as they came from his
+terrible mouth. The listeners could not but feel absorbed in the tones
+of the brutal victor.
+
+Matrena Petrovna and Rouletabille had leant their two shadows, blended
+one into the other, against the open doorway just beyond the gleam of
+the night-lamp, and they heard with horror:
+
+"The youth of Moscow is dead! They have cleared away the corpses. There
+is nothing but ruin left. The Kremlin itself has shut its gates--that it
+may not see. The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch's fist shook above his bed; it seemed that he was
+about to strike, to kill again, and Rouletabille felt Matrena trembling
+against him, while he trembled as well before the fearful vision of the
+killer in the Red Week!
+
+Feodor heaved an immense sigh and his breast descended under the
+bed-clothes, the fist relaxed and fell, the great head lay over on its
+ear. There was silence. Had he repose at last? No, no. He sighed, he
+choked anew, he tossed on his couch like the damned in torment, and
+the words written by his daughter--by his daughter--blazed in his eyes,
+which now were wide open--words written on the wall, that he read on the
+wall, written in blood.
+
+  "The youth of Moscow is dead!  They had gone so young into the
+     fields and into the mines,
+  And they had not found a single corner of the Russian land where
+     there were not moanings.
+  Now the youth of Moscow is dead and no more moanings are heard,
+  Because those for whom all youth died do not dare even to moan
+     any more.
+
+But--what? The voice of Feodor lost its threatening tone. His breath
+came as from a weeping child. And it was with sobs in his throat that he
+said the last verse, the verse written by his daughter in the album, in
+red letters:
+
+  "The last barricade had standing there the girl of eighteen
+     winters, the virgin of Moscow, flower of the snow.
+  Who gave her kisses to the workmen struck by the bullets
+     from the soldiers of the Czar;
+  "She aroused the admiration of the very soldiers who, weeping,
+     killed her:
+  "What killing!  All the houses shuttered, the windows with heavy
+     eyelids of plank in order not to see!--
+  "And the Kremlin itself has closed its gates--that it may
+     not see.
+  "The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+"Feodor! Feodor!"
+
+She had caught him in her arms, holding him fast, comforting him while
+still he raved, "The youth of Moscow is dead," and appeared to thrust
+away with insensate gestures a crowd of phantoms. She crushed him to
+her breast, she put her hands over his mouth to make him stop, but he,
+saying, "Do you hear? Do you hear? What do they say? They say nothing,
+now. What a tangle of bodies under the sleigh, Matrena! Look at those
+frozen legs of those poor girls we pass, sticking out in all directions,
+like logs, from under their icy, blooded skirts. Look, Matrena!"
+
+And then came further delirium uttered in Russian, which was all the
+more terrible to Rouletabille because he could not comprehend it.
+
+Then, suddenly, Feodor became silent and thrust away Matrena Petrovna.
+
+"It is that abominable narcotic," he said with an immense sigh. "I'll
+drink no more of it. I do not wish to drink it."
+
+With one hand he pointed to a large glass on the table beside him, still
+half full of a soporific mixture with which he moistened his lips each
+time he woke; with the other hand he wiped the perspiration from his
+face. Matrena Petrovna stayed trembling near him, suddenly overpowered
+by the idea that he might discover there was someone there behind the
+door, who had seen and heard the sleep of General Trebassof! Ah, if he
+learned that, everything was over. She might say her prayers; she should
+die.
+
+But Rouletabille was careful to give no sign. He barely breathed. What
+a nightmare! He understood now the emotion of the general's friends when
+Natacha had sung in her low, sweet voice, "Good-night. May your eyes
+have rest from tears and calm re-enter your heart oppressed." The
+friends had certainly been made aware, by Matrena's anxious talking, of
+the general's insomnia, and they could not repress their tears as they
+listened to the poetic wish of charming Natacha. "All the same," thought
+Rouletabille, "no one could imagine what I have just seen. They are not
+dead for everyone in the world, the youths of Moscow, and every night I
+know now a chamber where in the glow of the night-lamp they rise--they
+rise--they rise!" and the young man frankly, naively regretted to have
+intruded where he was; to have penetrated, however unintentionally, into
+an affair which, after all, concerned only the many dead and the one
+living. Why had he come to put himself between the dead and the living?
+It might be said to him: "The living has done his whole heroic duty,"
+but the dead, what else was it that they had done?
+
+Ah, Rouletabille cursed his curiosity, for--he saw it now--it was the
+desire to approach the mystery revealed by Koupriane and to penetrate
+once more, through all the besetting dangers, an astounding and perhaps
+monstrous enigma, that had brought him to the threshold of the datcha
+des Iles, which had placed him in the trembling hands of Matrena
+Petrovna in promising her his help. He had shown pity, certainly, pity
+for the delirious distress of that heroic woman. But there had been more
+curiosity than pity in his motives. And now he must pay, because it was
+too late now to withdraw, to say casually, "I wash my hands of it." He
+had sent away the police and he alone remained between the general
+and the vengeance of the dead! He might desert, perhaps! That one idea
+brought him to himself, roused all his spirit. Circumstances had brought
+him into a camp that he must defend at any cost, unless he was afraid!
+
+The general slept now, or, at least, with eyelids closed simulated
+sleep, doubtless in order to reassure poor Matrena who, on her knees
+beside his pillow, had retained the hand of her terrible husband in her
+own. Shortly she rose and rejoined Rouletabille in her chamber. She
+took him then to a little guest-chamber where she urged him to get some
+sleep. He replied that it was she who needed rest. But, agitated still
+by what had just happened, she babbled:
+
+"No, no! after such a scene I would have nightmares myself as well. Ah,
+it is dreadful! Appalling! Appalling! Dear little monsieur, it is the
+secret of the night. The poor man! Poor unhappy man! He cannot tear his
+thoughts away from it. It is his worst and unmerited punishment, this
+translation that Natacha has made of Boris's abominable verses. He knows
+them by heart, they are in his brain and on his tongue all night long,
+in spite of narcotics, and he says over and over again all the time, 'It
+is my daughter who has written that!--my daughter!--my daughter!' It is
+enough to wring all the tears from one's body--that an aide-de-camp of a
+general, who himself has killed the youth of Moscow, is allowed to write
+such verses and that Natacha should take it upon herself to translate
+them into lovely poetic French for her album. It is hard to account for
+what they do nowadays, to our misery."
+
+She ceased, for just then they heard the floor creak under a step
+downstairs. Rouletabille stopped Matrena short and drew his revolver. He
+wished to creep down alone, but he had not time. As the floor creaked
+a second time, Matrena's anguished voice called down the staircase
+in Russian, "Who is there?" and immediately the calm voice of Natacha
+answered something in the same language. Then Matrena, trembling more
+and more, and very much excited keeping steadily to the same place as
+though she had been nailed to the step of the stairway, said in French,
+"Yes, all is well; your father is resting. Good-night, Natacha." They
+heard Natacha's step cross the drawing-room and the sitting-room. Then
+the door of her chamber closed. Matrena and Rouletabille descended,
+holding their breath. They reached the dining-room and Matrena played
+her dark-lantern on the sofa where the general always reclined. The sofa
+was in its usual place on the carpet. She pushed it back and raised the
+carpet, laying the floor bare. Then she got onto her knees and examined
+the floor minutely. She rose, wiping the perspiration from her brow, put
+the carpet hack in place, adjusted the sofa and dropped upon it with a
+great sigh.
+
+"Well?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Nothing at all," said she.
+
+"Why did you call so openly?"
+
+"Because there was no doubt that it could only be my step-daughter on
+the ground-floor at that hour."
+
+"And why this anxiety to examine the floor again?"
+
+"I entreat you, my dear little child, do not see in my acts anything
+mysterious, anything hard to explain. That anxiety you speak of never
+leaves me. Whenever I have the chance I examine the flooring."
+
+"Madame," demanded the young man, "what was your daughter doing in this
+room?"
+
+"She came for a glass of mineral water; the bottle is still on the
+table."
+
+"Madame, it is necessary that you tell me precisely what Koupriane has
+only hinted to me, unless I am entirely mistaken. The first time that
+you thought to examine the floor, was it after you heard a noise on the
+ground-floor such as has just happened?"
+
+"Yes. I will tell you all that is necessary. It was the night after
+the attempt with the bouquet, my dear little monsieur, my dear little
+domovoi; it seemed to me I heard a noise on the ground-floor. I hurried
+downstairs and saw nothing suspicious at first. Everything was shut
+tight. I opened the door of Natacha's chamber softly. I wished to ask
+her if she had heard anything. But she was so fast asleep that I had not
+the heart to awaken her. I opened the door of the veranda, and all the
+police--all, you understand--slept soundly. I took another turn around
+the furniture, and, with my lantern in my hand, I was just going out
+of the dining-room when I noticed that the carpet on the floor was
+disarranged at one corner. I got down and my hand struck a great fold
+of carpet near the general's sofa. You would have said that the sofa had
+been rolled carelessly, trying to replace it in the position it usually
+occupied. Prompted by a sinister presentiment, I pushed away the sofa
+and I lifted the carpet. At first glance I saw nothing, but when I
+examined things closer I saw that a strip of wood did not lie well with
+the others on the floor. With a knife I was able to lift that strip and
+I found that two nails which had fastened it to the beam below had been
+freshly pulled out. It was just so I could raise the end of the board a
+little without being able to slip my hand under. To lift it any more it
+would be necessary to pull at least half-a-dozen nails. What could it
+mean? Was I on the point of discovering some new terrible and mysterious
+plan? I let the board fall back into place. I spread the carpet back
+again carefully, put the sofa in its place, and in the morning sent for
+Koupriane."
+
+Rouletabille interrupted.
+
+"You had not, madame, spoken to anyone of this discovery?"
+
+"To no one."
+
+"Not even to your step-daughter?"
+
+"No," said the husky voice of Matrena, "not even to my step-daughter."
+
+"Why?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Because," replied Matrena, after a moment's hesitation, "there were
+already enough frightening things about the house. I would not have
+spoken to my daughter any more than I would have said a word to the
+general. Why add to the disquiet they already suffered so much, in case
+nothing developed?"
+
+"And what did Koupriane say?"
+
+"We examined the floor together, secretly. Koupriane slipped his hand
+under more easily than I had done, and ascertained that under the board,
+that is to say between the beam and the ceiling of the kitchen, there
+was a hollow where any number of things might be placed. For the moment
+the board was still too little released for any maneuver to be possible.
+Koupriane, when he rose, said to me, 'You have happened, madame, to
+interrupt the person in her operations. But we are prepared henceforth.
+We know what she does and she is unaware that we know. Act as though
+you had not noticed anything; do not speak of it to anyone whatever--and
+watch. Let the general continue to sit in his usual place and let no one
+suspect that we have discovered the beginnings of this attempt. It is
+the only way we can plan so that they will continue. All the same,' he
+added, 'I will give my agents orders to patrol the ground-floor anew
+during the night. I would be risking too much to let the person continue
+her work each night. She might continue it so well that she would be
+able to accomplish it--you understand me? But by day you arrange that
+the rooms on the ground-floor be free from time to time--not for long,
+but from time to time.' I don't know why, but what he said and the way
+he said it frightened me more than ever. However, I carried out his
+program. Then, three days later, about eight o'clock, when the night
+watch was not yet started, that is to say at the moment when the police
+were still all out in the garden or walking around the house, outside,
+and when I had left the the ground-floor perfectly free while I helped
+the general to bed, I felt drawn even against myself suddenly to the
+dining-room. I lifted the carpet and examined the floor. Three more
+nails had been drawn from the board, which lifted more easily now, and
+under it, I could see that the normal cavity had been made wider still!"
+
+When she had said this, Matrena stopped, as if, overcome, she could not
+tell more.
+
+"Well?" insisted Rouletabille.
+
+"Well, I replaced things as I found them and made rapid inquiries of
+the police and their chief; no one had entered the ground-floor. You
+understand me?--no one at all. Neither had anyone come out from it."
+
+"How could anyone come out if no one had entered?"
+
+"I wish to say," said she with a sob, "that Natacha during this space of
+time had been in her chamber, in her chamber on the ground-floor."
+
+"You appear to be very disturbed, madame, at this recollection. Can you
+tell me further, and precisely, why you are agitated?"
+
+"You understand me, surely," she said, shaking her head.
+
+"If I understand you correctly, I have to understand that from the
+previous time you examined the floor until the time that you noted three
+more nails drawn out, no other person could have entered the dining-room
+but you and your step-daughter Natacha."
+
+Matrena took Rouletabille's hand as though she had reached an important
+decision.
+
+"My little friend," moaned she, "there are things I am not able to think
+about and which I can no longer entertain when Natacha embraces me. It
+is a mystery more frightful than all else. Koupriane tells me that he is
+sure, absolutely sure, of the agents he kept here; my sole consolation,
+do you see, my little friend can tell you frankly, now that you have
+sent away those men--my sole consolation since that day has been that
+Koupriane is less sure of his men than I am of Natacha."
+
+She broke down and sobbed.
+
+When she was calmed, she looked for Rouletabille, and could not
+find him. Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her dark-lantern, and,
+furtively, crept to her post beside the general.
+
+For that day these are the points in Rouletabille's notebook:
+
+"Topography: Villa surrounded by a large garden on three sides. The
+fourth side gives directly onto a wooded field that stretches to the
+river Neva. On this side the level of the ground is much lower, so
+low that the sole window opening in that wall (the window of Natacha's
+sitting-room on the ground-floor) is as high from the ground as though
+it were on the next floor in any other part of the house. This window is
+closed by iron shutters, fastened inside by a bar of iron.
+
+"Friends: Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch, Thaddeus the
+timber-merchant (peat boots), Michael and Boris (fine shoes). Matrena,
+sincere love, blundering heroism. Natacha unknown. Against Natacha:
+Never there during the attacks. At Moscow at the time of the bomb in
+the sleigh, no one knows where she was, and it is she who should have
+accompanied the general (detail furnished by Koupriane that Matrena
+generously kept back). The night of the bouquet is the only night
+Natacha has slept away from the house. Coincidence of the disappearance
+of the nails and the presence all alone on the ground-floor of Natacha,
+in case, of course, Matrena did not pull them out herself. For Natacha:
+Her eyes when she looks at her father."
+
+And this bizarre phrase:
+
+"We mustn't be rash. This evening I have not yet spoken to Matrena
+Petrovna about the little hat-pin. That little hat-pin is the greatest
+relief of my life."
+
+
+
+
+V. BY ROULETABILLE'S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+
+"Good morning, my dear little familiar spirit. The general slept
+splendidly the latter part of the night. He did not touch his narcotic.
+I am sure it is that dreadful mixture that gives him such frightful
+dreams. And you, my dear little friend, you have not slept an instant.
+I know it. I felt you going everywhere about the house like a little
+mouse. Ah, it seems good, so good. I slept so peacefully, hearing the
+subdued movement of your little steps. Thanks for the sleep you have
+given me, little friend."
+
+Matrena talked on to Rouletabille, whom she had found the morning after
+the nightmare tranquilly smoking his pipe in the garden.
+
+"Ah, ah, you smoke a pipe. Now you do certainly look exactly like a dear
+little domovoi-doukh. See how much you are alike. He smokes just like
+you. Nothing new, eh? You do not look very bright this morning. You are
+worn out. I have just arranged the little guest-chamber for you, the
+only one we have, just behind mine. Your bed is waiting for you. Is
+there anything you need? Tell me. Everything here is at your service."
+
+"I'm not in need of anything, madame," said the young man smilingly,
+after this outpouring of words from the good, heroic dame.
+
+"How can you say that, dear child? You will make yourself sick. I want
+you to understand that I wish you to rest. I want to be a mother to you,
+if you please, and you must obey me, my child. Have you had breakfast
+yet this morning? If you do not have breakfast promptly mornings, I will
+think you are annoyed. I am so annoyed that you have heard the secret of
+the night. I have been afraid that you would want to leave at once and
+for good, and that you would have mistaken ideas about the general.
+There is not a better man in the world than Feodor, and he must have
+a good, a very good conscience to dare, without fail, to perform such
+terrible duties as those at Moscow, when he is so good at heart. These
+things are easy enough for wicked people, but for good men, for good men
+who can reason it out, who know what they do and that they are condemned
+to death into the bargain, it is terrible, it is terrible! Why, I told
+him the moment things began to go wrong in Moscow, 'You know what to
+expect, Feodor. Here is a dreadful time to get through--make out you are
+sick.' I believed he was going to strike me, to kill me on the spot.
+'I! Betray the Emperor in such a moment! His Majesty, to whom I owe
+everything! What are you thinking of, Matrena Petrovna!' And he did
+not speak to me after that for two days. It was only when he saw I was
+growing very ill that he pardoned me, but he had to be plagued with my
+jeremiads and the appealing looks of Natacha without end in his own
+home each time we heard any shooting in the street. Natacha attended the
+lectures of the Faculty, you know. And she knew many of them, and even
+some of those who were being killed on the barricades. Ah, life was not
+easy for him in his own home, the poor general! Besides, there was also
+Boris, whom I love as well, for that matter, as my own child, because I
+shall be very happy to see him married to Natacha--there was poor Boris
+who always came home from the attacks paler than a corpse and who could
+not keep from moaning with us."
+
+"And Michael?" questioned Rouletabille.
+
+"Oh, Michael only came towards the last. He is a new orderly to the
+general. The government at St. Petersburg sent him, because of course
+they couldn't help learning that Boris rather lacked zeal in repressing
+the students and did not encourage the general in being as severe as was
+necessary for the safety of the Empire. But Michael, he has a heart of
+stone; he knows nothing but the countersign and massacres fathers and
+mothers, crying, 'Vive le Tsar!' Truly, it seems his heart can only be
+touched by the sight of Natacha. And that again has caused a good deal
+of anxiety to Feodor and me. It has caught us in a useless complication
+that we would have liked to end by the prompt marriage of Natacha and
+Boris. But Natacha, to our great surprise, has not wished it to be so.
+No, she has not wished it, saying that there is always time to think
+of her wedding and that she is in no hurry to leave us. Meantime she
+entertains herself with this Michael as if she did not fear his passion,
+and neither has Michael the desperate air of a man who knows the
+definite engagement of Natacha and Boris. And my step-daughter is not a
+coquette. No, no. No one can say she is a coquette. At least, no one had
+been able to say it up to the time that Michael arrived. Can it be
+that she is a coquette? They are mysterious, these young girls, very
+mysterious, above all when they have that calm and tranquil look that
+Natacha always has; a face, monsieur, as you have noticed perhaps, whose
+beauty is rather passive whatever one says and does, excepting when the
+volleys in the streets kill her young comrades of the schools. Then I
+have seen her almost faint, which proves she has a great heart under
+her tranquil beauty. Poor Natacha! I have seen her excited as I over the
+life of her father. My little friend, I have seen her searching in the
+middle of the night, with me, for infernal machines under the furniture,
+and then she has expressed the opinion that it is nervous, childish,
+unworthy of us to act like that, like timid beasts under the sofas, and
+she has left me to search by myself. True, she never quits the general.
+She is more reassured, and is reassuring to him, at his side. It has
+an excellent moral effect on him, while I walk about and search like a
+beast. And she has become as fatalistic as he, and now she sings verses
+to the guzla, like Boris, or talks in corners with Michael, which makes
+the two enraged each with the other. They are curious, the young women
+of St. Petersburg and Moscow, very curious. We were not like that in our
+time, at Orel. We did not try to enrage people. We would have received a
+box on the ears if we had."
+
+Natacha came in upon this conversation, happy, in white voile, fresh and
+smiling like a girl who had passed an excellent night. She asked after
+the health of the young man very prettily and embraced Matrena, in truth
+as one embraces a much-beloved mother. She complained again of Matrena's
+night-watch.
+
+"You have not stopped it, mamma; you have not stopped it, eh? You are
+not going to be a little reasonable at last? I beg of you! What has
+given me such a mother! Why don't you sleep? Night is made for sleep.
+Koupriane has upset you. All the terrible things are over in Moscow.
+There is no occasion to think of them any more. That Koupriane makes
+himself important with his police-agents and obsesses us all. I am
+convinced that the affair of the bouquet was the work of his police."
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Rouletabille, "I have just had them all sent away,
+all of them--because I think very much the same as you do."
+
+"Well, then, you will be my friend, Monsieur Rouletabille I promise you,
+since you have done that. Now that the police are gone we have nothing
+more to fear. Nothing. I tell you, mamma; you can believe me and not
+weep any more, mamma dear."
+
+"Yes, yes; kiss me. Kiss me again!" repeated Matrena, drying her eyes.
+"When you kiss me I forget everything. You love me like your own mother,
+don't you?"
+
+"Like my mother. Like my own mother."
+
+"You have nothing to hide from me?--tell me, Natacha."
+
+"Nothing to hide."
+
+"Then why do you make Boris suffer so? Why don't you marry him?"
+
+"Because I don't wish to leave you, mamma dear."
+
+She escaped further parley by jumping up on the garden edge away from
+Khor, who had just been set free for the day.
+
+"The dear child," said Matrena; "the dear little one, she little knows
+how much pain she has caused us without being aware of it, by her ideas,
+her extravagant ideas. Her father said to me one day at Moscow, 'Matrena
+Petrovna, I'll tell you what I think--Natacha is the victim of the
+wicked books that have turned the brains of all these poor rebellious
+students. Yes, yes; it would be better for her and for us if she did not
+know how to read, for there are moments--my word!--when she talks very
+wildly, and I have said to myself more than once that with such ideas
+her place is not in our salon hut behind a barricade. All the same,' he
+added after reflection, 'I prefer to find her in the salon where I can
+embrace her than behind a barricade where I would kill her like a mad
+dog.' But my husband, dear little monsieur, did not say what he really
+thinks, for he loves his daughter more than all the rest of the world
+put together, and there are things that even a general, yes, even a
+governor-general, would not be able to do without violating both divine
+and human laws. He suspects Boris also of setting Natacha's wits awry.
+We really have to consider that when they are married they will read
+everything they have a mind to. My husband has much more real respect
+for Michael Korsakoff because of his impregnable character and his
+granite conscience. More than once he has said, 'Here is the aide I
+should have had in the worst days of Moscow. He would have spared me
+much of the individual pain.' I can understand how that would please
+the general, but how such a tigerish nature succeeds in appealing to
+Natacha, how it succeeds in not actually revolting her, these young
+girls of the capital, one never can tell about them--they get away from
+all your notions of them."
+
+Rouletabille inquired:
+
+"Why did Boris say to Michael, 'We will return together'? Do they live
+together?"
+
+"Yes, in the small villa on the Krestowsky Ostrov, the isle across from
+ours, that you can see from the window of the sitting-room. Boris chose
+it because of that. The orderlies wished to have camp-beds prepared for
+them right here in the general's house, by a natural devotion to him;
+but I opposed it, in order to keep them both from Natacha, in whom,
+of course, I have the most complete confidence, but one cannot be sure
+about the extravagance of men nowadays."
+
+Ermolai came to announce the petit-dejeuner. They found Natacha already
+at table and she poured them coffee and milk, eating away all the time
+at a sandwich of anchovies and caviare.
+
+"Tell me, mamma, do you know what gives me such an appetite? It is the
+thought of the way poor Koupriane must have taken this dismissal of his
+men. I should like to go to see him."
+
+"If you see him," said Rouletabille, "it is unnecessary to tell him that
+the general will go for a long promenade among the isles this afternoon,
+because without fail he would send us an escort of gendarmes."
+
+"Papa! A promenade among the islands? Truly? Oh, that is going to be
+lovely!"
+
+Matrena Petrovna sprang to her feet.
+
+"Are you mad, my dear little domovoi, actually mad?"
+
+"Why? Why? It is fine. I must run and tell papa."
+
+"Your father's room is locked," said Matrena brusquely.
+
+"Yes, yes; he is locked in. You have the key. Locked away until death!
+You will kill him. It will be you who kills him."
+
+She left the table without waiting for a reply and went and shut herself
+also in her chamber.
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille, who continued his breakfast as though
+nothing had happened.
+
+"Is it possible that you speak seriously?" she demanded, coming over and
+sitting down beside him. "A promenade! Without the police, when we have
+received again this morning a letter saying now that before forty-eight
+hours the general will be dead!"
+
+"Forty-eight hours," said Rouletabille, soaking his bread in his
+chocolate, "forty-eight hours? It is possible. In any case, I know they
+will try something very soon."
+
+"My God, how is it that you believe that? You speak with assurance."
+
+"Madame, it is necessary to do everything I tell you, to the letter."
+
+"But to have the general go out, unless he is guarded--how can you take
+such a responsibility? When I think about it, when I really think about
+it, I ask myself how you have dared send away the police. But here, at
+least, I know what to do in order to feel a little safe, I know that
+downstairs with Gniagnia and Ermolai we have nothing to fear. No
+stranger can approach even the basement. The provisions are brought from
+the lodge by our dvornicks whom we have had sent from my mother's home
+in the Orel country and who are as devoted to us as bull-dogs. Not
+a bottle of preserves is taken into the kitchens without having been
+previously opened outside. No package comes from any tradesman without
+being opened in the lodge. Here, within, we are able to feel a little
+safe, even without the police--but away from here--outside!"
+
+"Madame, they are going to try to kill your husband within forty-eight
+hours. Do you desire me to save him perhaps for a long time--for good,
+perhaps?"
+
+"Ah, listen to him! Listen to him, the dear little domovoi! But what
+will Koupriane say? He will not permit any venturing beyond the villa;
+none, at least for the moment. Ah, now, how he looks at me, the dear
+little domovoi! Oh, well, yes. There, I will do as you wish."
+
+"Very well, come into the garden with me."
+
+She accompanied him, leaning on his arm.
+
+"Here's the idea," said Rouletabille. "This afternoon you will go with
+the general in his rolling-chair. Everybody will follow. Everyone,
+you understand, Madame--understand me thoroughly, I mean to say that
+everyone who wishes to come must be invited to. Only those who wish
+to remain behind will do so. And do not insist. Ah, now, I see, you
+understand me. Why do you tremble?"
+
+"But who will guard the house?"
+
+"No one. Simply tell the servant at the lodge to watch from the
+lodge those who enter the villa, but simply from the lodge, without
+interfering with them, and saying nothing to them, nothing."
+
+"I will do as you wish. Do you want me to announce our promenade
+beforehand?"
+
+"Why, certainly. Don't be uneasy; let everybody have the good news."
+
+"Oh, I will tell only the general and his friends, you may be sure."
+
+"Now, dear Madame, just one more word. Do not wait for me at luncheon."
+
+"What! You are going to leave us?" she cried instantly, breathless. "No,
+no. I do not wish it. I am willing to do without the police, but I am
+not willing to do without you. Everything might happen in your absence.
+Everything! Everything!" she repeated with singular energy. "Because,
+for me, I cannot feel sure as I should, perhaps. Ah, you make me say
+these things. Such things! But do not go."
+
+"Do not be afraid; I am not going to leave you, madame."
+
+"Ah, you are good! You are kind, kind! Caracho! (Very well.)"
+
+"I will not leave you. But I must not be at luncheon. If anyone asks
+where I am, say that I have my business to look after, and have gone to
+interview political personages in the city."
+
+"There's only one political personage in Russia," replied Matrena
+Petrovna bluntly; "that is the Tsar."
+
+"Very well; say I have gone to interview the Tsar."
+
+"But no one will believe that. And where will you be?"
+
+"I do not know myself. But I will be about the house."
+
+"Very well, very well, dear little domovoi."
+
+She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what she
+should think--her head was all in a muddle.
+
+In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus
+Tchnitchnikof arrived. The general was already in the veranda. Michael
+and Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn how he had
+passed the night without the police. When they were told that Feodor
+was going for a promenade that afternoon they applauded his decision.
+"Bravo! A promenade a la strielka (to the head of the island) at the
+hour when all St. Petersburg is driving there. That is fine. We will all
+be there." The general made them stay for luncheon. Natacha appeared for
+the meal, in rather melancholy mood. A little before luncheon she had
+held a double conversation in the garden with Michael and Boris. No one
+ever could have known what these three young people had said if some
+stenographic notes in Rouletabille's memorandum-book did not give us
+a notion; the reporter had overheard, by accident surely, since all
+self-respecting reporters are quite incapable of eavesdropping.
+
+The memorandum notes:
+
+Natacha went into the garden with a book, which she gave to Boris, who
+pressed her hand lingeringly to his lips. "Here is your book; I return
+it to you. I don't want any more of them, the ideas surge so in my
+brain. It makes my head ache. It is true, you are right, I don't love
+novelties. I can satisfy myself with Pouchkine perfectly. The rest are
+all one to me. Did you pass a good night?"
+
+Boris (good-looking young man, about thirty years old, blonde, a little
+effeminate, wistful. A curious appurtenance in the military household of
+so vigorous a general). "Natacha, there is not an hour that I can call
+truly good if I spend it away from you, dear, dear Natacha."
+
+"I ask you seriously if you have passed a good night?"
+
+She touched his hand a moment and looked into his eyes, but he shook his
+head.
+
+"What did you do last night after you reached home?" she demanded
+insistently. "Did you stay up?"
+
+"I obeyed you; I only sat a half-hour by the window looking over here at
+the villa, and then I went to bed."
+
+"Yes, it is necessary you should get your rest. I wish it for you as
+for everyone else. This feverish life is impossible. Matrena Petrovna is
+getting us all ill, and we shall be prostrated."
+
+"Yesterday," said Boris, "I looked at the villa for a half-hour from
+my window. Dear, dear villa, dear night when I can feel you breathing,
+living near me. As if you had been against my heart. I could have wept
+because I could hear Michael snoring in his chamber. He seemed happy.
+At last, I heard nothing more, there was nothing more to hear but the
+double chorus of frogs in the pools of the island. Our pools, Natacha,
+are like the enchanted lakes of the Caucasus which are silent by day and
+sing at evening; there are innumerable throngs of frogs which sing on
+the same chord, some of them on a major and some on a minor. The chorus
+speaks from pool to pool, lamenting and moaning across the fields and
+gardens, and re-echoing like AEolian harps placed opposite one another."
+
+"Do AEolian harps make so much noise, Boris?"
+
+"You laugh? I don't find you yourself half the time. It is Michael who
+has changed you, and I am out of it. (Here they spoke in Russian.)
+I shall not be easy until I am your husband. I can't understand your
+manner with Michael at all."
+
+(Here more Russian words which I do not understand.)
+
+"Speak French; here is the gardener," said Natacha.
+
+"I do not like the way you are managing our lives. Why do you delay our
+marriage? Why?"
+
+(Russian words from Natacha. Gesture of desperation from Boris.)
+
+"How long? You say a long time? But that says nothing--a long time. How
+long? A year? Two years? Ten years? Tell me, or I will kill myself at
+your feet. No, no; speak or I will kill Michael. On my word! Like a
+dog!"
+
+"I swear to you, by the dear head of your mother, Boris, that the date
+of our marriage does not depend on Michael."
+
+(Some words in Russian. Boris, a little consoled, holds her hand
+lingeringly to his lips.)
+
+Conversation between Michael and Natacha in the garden:
+
+"Well? Have you told him?"
+
+"I ended at last by making him understand that there is not any hope.
+None. It is necessary to have patience. I have to have it myself."
+
+"He is stupid and provoking."
+
+"Stupid, no. Provoking, yes, if you wish. But you also, you are
+provoking."
+
+"Natacha! Natacha!"
+
+(Here more Russian.) As Natacha started to leave, Michael placed his
+hand on her shoulder, stopped her and said, looking her direct in the
+eyes:
+
+"There will be a letter from Annouchka this evening, by a messenger
+at five o'clock." He made each syllable explicit. "Very important and
+requiring an immediate reply."
+
+These notes of Rouletabille's are not followed by any commentary.
+
+After luncheon the gentlemen played poker until half-past four, which
+is the "chic" hour for the promenade to the head of the island.
+Rouletabille had directed Matrena to start exactly at a quarter to five.
+He appeared in the meantime, announcing that he had just interviewed
+the mayor of St. Petersburg, which made Athanase laugh, who could not
+understand that anyone would come clear from Paris to talk with men like
+that. Natacha came from her chamber to join them for the promenade. Her
+father told her she looked too worried.
+
+They left the villa. Rouletabille noted that the dvornicks were before
+the gate and that the schwitzar was at his post, from which he could
+detect everyone who might enter or leave the villa. Matrena pushed the
+rolling-chair herself. The general was radiant. He had Natacha at his
+right and at his left Athanase and Thaddeus. The two orderlies followed,
+talking with Rouletabille, who had monopolized them. The conversation
+turned on the devotion of Matrena Petrovna, which they placed above the
+finest heroic traits in the women of antiquity, and also on Natacha's
+love for her father. Rouletabille made them talk.
+
+Boris Mourazoff explained that this exceptional love was accounted for
+by the fact that Natacha's own mother, the general's first wife, died in
+giving birth to their daughter, and accordingly Feodor Feodorovitch had
+been both father and mother to his daughter. He had raised her with the
+most touching care, not permitting anyone else, when she was sick, to
+have the care of passing the nights by her bedside.
+
+Natacha was seven years old when Feodor Feodorovitch was appointed
+governor of Orel. In the country near Orel, during the summer, the
+general and his daughter lived on neighborly terms near the family of
+old Petroff, one of the richest fur merchants in Russia. Old Petroff
+had a daughter, Matrena, who was magnificent to see, like a beautiful
+field-flower. She was always in excellent humor, never spoke ill of
+anyone in the neighborhood, and not only had the fine manners of a
+city dame but a great, simple heart, which she lavished on the little
+Natacha.
+
+The child returned the affection of the beautiful Matrena, and it was
+on seeing them always happy to find themselves together that Trebassof
+dreamed of reestablishing his fireside. The nuptials were quickly
+arranged, and the child, when she learned that her good Matrena was to
+wed her papa, danced with joy. Then misfortune came only a few weeks
+before the ceremony. Old Petroff, who speculated on the Exchange for a
+long time without anyone knowing anything about it, was ruined from top
+to bottom. Matrena came one evening to apprise Feodor Feodorovitch of
+this sad news and return his pledge to him. For all response Feodor
+placed Natacha in Matrena's arms. "Embrace your mother," he said to
+the child, and to Matrena, "From to-day I consider you my wife, Matrena
+Petrovna. You should obey me in all things. Take that reply to your
+father and tell him my purse is at his disposition."
+
+The general was already, at that time, even before he had inherited
+the Cheremaieff, immensely rich. He had lands behind Nijni as vast as
+a province, and it would have been difficult to count the number of
+moujiks who worked for him on his property. Old Pretroff gave his
+daughter and did not wish to accept anything in exchange. Feodor wished
+to settle a large allowance on his wife; her father opposed that, and
+Matrena sided with him in the matter against her husband, because of
+Natacha. "It all belongs to the little one," she insisted. "I accept the
+position of her mother, but on the condition that she shall never lose a
+kopeck of her inheritance."
+
+"So that," concluded Boris, "if the general died tomorrow she would be
+poorer than Job."
+
+"Then the general is Matrena's sole resource," reflected Rouletabille
+aloud.
+
+"I can understand her hanging onto him," said Michael Korsakoff, blowing
+the smoke of his yellow cigarette. "Look at her. She watches him like a
+treasure."
+
+"What do you mean, Michael Nikolaievitch?" said Boris, curtly.
+"You believe, do you, that the devotion of Matrena Petrovna is not
+disinterested. You must know her very poorly to dare utter such a
+thought."
+
+"I have never had that thought, Boris Alexandrovitch," replied the other
+in a tone curter still. "To be able to imagine that anyone who lives
+in the Trebassofs' home could have such a thought needs an ass's head,
+surely."
+
+"We will speak of it again, Michael Nikolaievitch."
+
+"At your pleasure, Boris Alexandrovitch."
+
+They had exchanged these latter words tranquilly continuing their walk
+and negligently smoking their yellow tobacco. Rouletabille was between
+them. He did not regard them; he paid no attention even to their
+quarrel; he had eyes only for Natacha, who just now quit her place
+beside her father's wheel-chair and passed by them with a little nod of
+the head, seeming in haste to retrace the way back to the villa.
+
+"Are you leaving us?" Boris demanded of her.
+
+"Oh, I will rejoin you immediately. I have forgotten my umbrella."
+
+"But I will go and get it for you," proposed Michael.
+
+"No, no. I have to go to the villa; I will return right away."
+
+She was already past them. Rouletabille, during this, looked at Matrena
+Petrovna, who looked at him also, turning toward the young man a visage
+pale as wax. But no one else noted the emotion of the good Matrena, who
+resumed pushing the general's wheel-chair.
+
+Rouletabille asked the officers, "Was this arrangement because the first
+wife of the general, Natacha's mother, was rich?"
+
+"No. The general, who always had his heart in his hand," said Boris,
+"married her for her great beauty. She was a beautiful girl of the
+Caucasus, of excellent family besides, that Feodor Feodorovitch had
+known when he was in garrison at Tiflis."
+
+"In short," said Rouletabille, "the day that General Trebassof dies
+Madame Trebassof, who now possesses everything, will have nothing, and
+the daughter, who now has nothing, will have everything."
+
+"Exactly that," said Michael.
+
+"That doesn't keep Matrena Petrovna and Natacha Feodorovna from deeply
+loving each other," observed Boris.
+
+The little party drew near the "Point." So far the promenade had been
+along pleasant open country, among the low meadows traversed by fresh
+streams, across which tiny bridges had been built, among bright gardens
+guarded by porcelain dwarfs, or in the shade of small weeds from the
+feet of whose trees the newly-cut grass gave a seasonal fragrance. All
+was reflected in the pools--which lay like glass whereon a scene-painter
+had cut the green hearts of the pond-lily leaves. An adorable country
+glimpse which seemed to have been created centuries back for the
+amusement of a queen and preserved, immaculately trimmed and cleaned,
+from generation to generation, for the eternal charm of such an hour as
+this on the banks of the Gulf of Finland.
+
+Now they had reached the bank of the Gulf, and the waves rippled to the
+prows of the light ships, which dipped gracefully like huge and rapid
+sea-gulls, under the pressure of their great white sails.
+
+Along the roadway, broader now, glided, silently and at walking pace,
+the double file of luxurious equipages with impatient horses, the open
+carriages in which the great personages of the court saw the view and
+let themselves be seen. Enormous coachmen held the reins high. Lively
+young women, negligently reclining against the cushions, displayed their
+new Paris toilettes, and kept young officers on horseback busy with
+salutes. There were all kinds of uniforms. No talking was heard.
+Everyone was kept busy looking. There rang in the pure, thin air only
+the noise of the champing bits and the tintinnabulation of the bells
+attached to the hairy Finnish ponies' collars. And all that, so
+beautiful, fresh, charming and clear, and silent, it all seemed more
+a dream than even that which hung in the pools, suspended between the
+crystal of the air and the crystal of the water. The transparence of the
+sky and the transparence of the gulf blended their two unrealities so
+that one could not note where the horizons met.
+
+Rouletabille looked at the view and looked at the general, and in all
+his young vibrating soul there was a sense of infinite sadness, for he
+recalled those terrible words in the night: "They have gone into all the
+corners of the Russian land, and they have not found a single corner of
+that land where there are not moanings." "Well," thought he, "they have
+not come into this corner, apparently. I don't know anything lovelier or
+happier in the world." No, no, Rouletabille, they have not come here.
+In every country there is a corner of happy life, which the poor are
+ashamed to approach, which they know nothing of, and of which merely the
+sight would turn famished mothers enraged, with their thin bosoms, and,
+if it is not more beautiful than that, certainly no part of the earth
+is made so atrocious to live in for some, nor so happy for others as in
+this Scythian country, the boreal country of the world.
+
+Meanwhile the little group about the general's rolling-chair had
+attracted attention. Some passers-by saluted, and the news spread
+quickly that General Trebassof had come for a promenade to "the Point."
+Heads turned as carriages passed; the general, noticing how much
+excitement his presence produced, begged Matrena Petrovna to push his
+chair into an adjacent by-path, behind a shield of trees where he would
+be able to enjoy the spectacle in peace.
+
+He was found, nevertheless, by Koupriane, the Chief of Police, who was
+looking for him. He had gone to the datcha and been told there that the
+general, accompanied by his friends and the young Frenchman, had gone
+for a turn along the gulf. Koupriane had left his carriage at the
+datcha, and taken the shortest route after them.
+
+He was a fine man, large, solid, clear-eyed. His uniform showed his fine
+build to advantage. He was generally liked in St. Petersburg, where
+his martial bearing and his well-known bravery had given him a sort of
+popularity in society, which, on the other hand, had great disdain for
+Gounsovski, the head of the Secret Police, who was known to be capable
+of anything underhanded and had been accused of sometimes playing into
+the hands of the Nihilists, whom he disguised as agents-provocateurs,
+without anybody really doubting it, and he had to fight against these
+widespread political suspicions.
+
+Well-informed men declared that the death of the previous "prime
+minister," who had been blown up before Varsovie station when he was on
+his way to the Tsar at Peterhof, was Gounsovski's work and that in this
+he was the instrument of the party at court which had sworn the death
+of the minister which inconvenienced it.* On the other hand, everyone
+regarded Koupriane as incapable of participating in any such horrors and
+that he contented himself with honest performance of his obvious duties,
+confining himself to ridding the streets of its troublesome elements,
+and sending to Siberia as many as he could of the hot-heads, without
+lowering himself to the compromises which, more than once, had given
+grounds for the enemies of the empire to maintain that it was difficult
+to say whether the chiefs of the Russian police played the part of the
+law or that of the revolutionary party, even that the police had been at
+the end of a certain time of such mixed procedure hardly able to
+decide themselves which they did.
+
+     * Rumored cause of Plehve's assassination.
+
+This afternoon Koupriane appeared very nervous. He paid his compliments
+to the general, grumbled at his imprudence, praised him for his bravery,
+and then at once picked out Rouletabille, whom he took aside to talk to.
+
+"You have sent my men back to me," said he to the young reporter.
+"You understand that I do not allow that. They are furious, and quite
+rightly. You have given publicly as explanation of their departure--a
+departure which has naturally astonished, stupefied the general's
+friends--the suspicion of their possible participation in the last
+attack. That is abominable, and I will not permit it. My men have not
+been trained in the methods of Gounsovski, and it does them a cruel
+injury, which I resent, for that matter, personally, to treat them this
+way. But let that go, as a matter of sentiment, and return to the simple
+fact itself, which proves your excessive imprudence, not to say more,
+and which involves you, you alone, in a responsibility of which you
+certainly have not measured the importance. All in all, I consider that
+you have strangely abused the complete authority that I gave you upon
+the Emperor's orders. When I learned what you had done I went to find
+the Tsar, as was my duty, and told him the whole thing. He was more
+astonished than can be expressed. He directed me to go myself to find
+out just how things were and to furnish the general the guard you had
+removed. I arrive at the isles and not only find the villa open like a
+mill where anyone may enter, but I am informed, and then I see, that the
+general is promenading in the midst of the crowd, at the mercy of the
+first miserable venturer. Monsieur Rouletabille, I am not satisfied. The
+Tsar is not satisfied. And, within an hour, my men will return to assume
+their guard at the datcha."
+
+Rouletabille listened to the end. No one ever had spoken to him in that
+tone. He was red, and as ready to burst as a child's balloon blown too
+hard. He said:
+
+"And I will take the train this evening."
+
+"You will go?"
+
+"Yes, and you can guard your general all alone. I have had enough of it.
+Ah, you are not satisfied! Ah, the Tsar is not satisfied! It is too
+bad. No more of it for me. Monsieur, I am not satisfied, and I say
+Good-evening to you. Only do not forget to send me from here every three
+or four days a letter which will keep me informed of the health of the
+general, whom I love dearly. I will offer up a little prayer for him."
+
+Thereupon he was silent, for he caught the glance of Matrena Petrovna,
+a glance so desolated, so imploring, so desperate, that the poor woman
+inspired him anew with great pity. Natacha had not returned. What was
+the young girl doing at that moment? If Matrena really loved Natacha
+she must be suffering atrociously. Koupriane spoke; Rouletabille did
+not hear him, and he had already forgotten his own anger. His spirit was
+wrapped in the mystery.
+
+"Monsieur," Koupriane finished by saying, tugging his sleeve, "do you
+hear me? I pray you at least reply to me. I offer all possible excuses
+for speaking to you in that tone. I reiterate them. I ask your pardon.
+I pray you to explain your conduct, which appeared imprudent to me but
+which, after all, should have some reason. I have to explain to the
+Emperor. Will you tell me? What ought I to say to the Emperor?"
+
+"Nothing at all," said Rouletabille. "I have no explanation to give you
+or the Emperor, or to anyone. You can offer him my utmost homage and do
+me the kindness to vise my passport for this evening."
+
+And he sighed:
+
+"It is too bad, for we were just about to see something interesting."
+
+Koupriane looked at him. Rouletabille had not quitted Matrena Petrovna's
+eyes, and her pallor struck Koupriane.
+
+"Just a minute," continued the young man. "I'm sure there is someone
+who will miss me--that brave woman there. Ask her which she prefers, all
+your police, or her dear little domovoi. We are good friends already.
+And--don't forget to present my condolences to her when the terrible
+moment has come."
+
+It was Koupriane's turn to be troubled.
+
+He coughed and said:
+
+"You believe, then, that the general runs a great immediate danger?"
+
+"I do not only believe it, monsieur, I am sure of it. His death is a
+matter of hours for the poor dear man. Before I go I shall not fail
+to tell him, so that he can prepare himself comfortably for the great
+journey and ask pardon of the Lord for the rather heavy hand he has laid
+on these poor men of Presnia."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, have you discovered something?"
+
+"Good Lord, yes, I have discovered something, Monsieur Koupriane. You
+don't suppose I have come so far to waste my time, do you?"
+
+"Something no one else knows?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Koupriane, otherwise I shouldn't have troubled to feel
+concerned. Something I have not confided to anyone, not even to my
+note-book, because a note-book, you know, a note-book can always be
+lost. I just mention that in case you had any idea of having me searched
+before my departure."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur Rouletabille!"
+
+"Eh, eh, like the way the police do in your country; in mine too, for
+that matter. Yes, that's often enough seen. The police, furious because
+they can't hit a clue in some case that interests them, arrest a
+reporter who knows more than they do, in order to make him talk.
+But--nothing of that sort with me, monsieur. You might have me taken to
+your famous 'Terrible Section,' I'd not open my mouth, not even in the
+famous rocking-chair, not even under the blows of clenched fists."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, what do you take us for? You are the guest of
+the Tsar."
+
+"Ah, I have the word of an honest man. Very well, I will treat you as an
+honest man. I will tell you what I have discovered. I don't wish through
+any false pride to keep you in darkness about something which may
+perhaps--I say perhaps--permit you to save the general."
+
+"Tell me. I am listening."
+
+"But it is perfectly understood that once I have told you this you will
+give me my passport and allow me to depart?"
+
+"You feel that you couldn't possibly," inquired Koupriane, more and more
+troubled, and after a moment of hesitation, "you couldn't possibly tell
+me that and yet remain?"
+
+"No, monsieur. From the moment you place me under the necessity of
+explaining each of my movements and each of my acts, I prefer to go and
+leave to you that 'responsibility' of which you spoke just now, my dear
+Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+Astonished and disquieted by this long conversation between Rouletabille
+and the Head of Police, Matrena Petrovna continually turned upon them
+her anguished glance, which always insensibly softened as it rested on
+Rouletabille. Koupriane read there all the hope that the brave woman had
+in the young reporter, and he read also in Rouletabille's eye all the
+extraordinary confidence that the mere boy had in himself. As a last
+consideration had he not already something in hand in circumstances
+where all the police of the world had admitted themselves vanquished?
+Koupriane pressed Rouletabille's hand and said just one word to him:
+
+"Remain."
+
+Having saluted the general and Matrena affectionately, and a group of
+friends in one courteous sweep, he departed, with thoughtful brow.
+
+During all this time the general, enchanted with the promenade, told
+stories of the Caucasus to his friends, believing himself young again
+and re-living his nights as sub-lieutenant at Tills. As to Natacha,
+no one had seen her. They retraced the way to the villa along deserted
+by-paths. Koupriane's call made occasion for Athanase Georgevitch and
+Thaddeus, and the two officers also, to say that he was the only honest
+man in all the Russian police, and that Matrena Petrovna was a great
+woman to have dared rid herself of the entire clique of agents, who
+are often more revolutionary than the Nihilists themselves. Thus they
+arrived at the datcha.
+
+The general inquired for Natacha, not understanding why she had left him
+thus during his first venture out. The schwitzar replied that the young
+mistress had returned to the house and had left again about a quarter
+of an hour later, taking the way that the party had gone on their
+promenade, and he had not seen her since.
+
+Boris spoke up:
+
+"She must have passed on the other side of the carriages while we were
+behind the trees, general, and not seeing us she has gone on her way,
+making the round of the island, over as far as the Barque."
+
+The explanation seemed the most plausible one.
+
+"Has anyone else been here?" demanded Matrena, forcing her voice to
+be calm. Rouletabille saw her hand tremble on the handle of the
+rolling-chair, which she had not quitted for a second during all the
+promenade, refusing aid from the officers, the friends, and even from
+Rouletabille.
+
+"First there came the Head of Police, who told me he would go and find
+you, Barinia, and right after, His Excellency the Marshal of the Court.
+His Excellency will return, although he is very pressed for time, before
+he takes the train at seven o'clock for Krasnoie-Coelo."
+
+All this had been said in Russian, naturally, but Matrena translated the
+words of the schwitzar into French in a low voice for Rouletabille, who
+was near her. The general during this time had taken Rouletabille's hand
+and pressed it affectionately, as if, in that mute way, to thank him for
+all the young man had done for them. Feodor himself also had confidence,
+and he was grateful for the freer air that he was being allowed
+to breathe. It seemed to him that he was emerging from prison.
+Nevertheless, as the promenade had been a little fatiguing, Matrena
+ordered him to go and rest immediately. Athanase and Thaddeus took their
+leave. The two officers were already at the end of the garden, talking
+coldly, and almost confronting one another, like wooden soldiers.
+Without doubt they were arranging the conditions of an encounter to
+settle their little difference at once.
+
+The schwitzar gathered the general into his great arms and carried him
+into the veranda. Feodor demanded five minutes' respite before he was
+taken upstairs to his chamber. Matrena Petrovna had a light luncheon
+brought at his request. In truth, the good woman trembled with
+impatience and hardly dared move without consulting Rouletabille's
+face. While the general talked with Ermolai, who passed him his tea,
+Rouletabille made a sign to Matrena that she understood at once. She
+joined the young man in the drawing-room.
+
+"Madame," he said rapidly, in a low voice, "you must go at once to see
+what has happened there."
+
+He pointed to the dining-room.
+
+"Very well."
+
+It was pitiful to watch her.
+
+"Go, madame, with courage."
+
+"Why don't you come with me?"
+
+"Because, madame, I have something to do elsewhere. Give me the keys of
+the next floor."
+
+"No, no. What for?"
+
+"Not a second's delay, for the love of Heaven. Do what I tell you on
+your side, and let me do mine. The keys! Come, the keys!"
+
+He snatched them rather than took them, and pointed a last time to
+the dining-room with a gesture so commanding that she did not hesitate
+further. She entered the dining-room, shaking, while he bounded to the
+upper floor. He was not long. He took only time to open the doors, throw
+a glance into the general's chamber, a single glance, and to return,
+letting a cry of joy escape him, borrowed from his new and very limited
+accomplishment of Russian, "Caracho!"
+
+How Rouletabille, who had not spent half a second examining the
+general's chamber, was able to be certain that all went well on that
+side, when it took Matrena--and that how many times a day!--at least
+a quarter of an hour of ferreting in all the corners each time she
+explored her house before she was even inadequately reassured, was
+a question. If that dear heroic woman had been with him during this
+"instant information" she would have received such a shock that, with
+all confidence gone, she would have sent for Koupriane immediately,
+and all his agents, reinforced by the personnel of the Okrana (Secret
+Police). Rouletabille at once rejoined the general, whistling. Feodor
+and Ermolai were deep in conversation about the Orel country. The young
+man did not disturb them. Then, soon, Matrena reappeared. He saw her
+come in quite radiant. He handed back her keys, and she took them
+mechanically. She was overjoyed and did not try to hide it. The general
+himself noticed it, and asked what had made her so.
+
+"It is my happiness over our first promenade since we arrived at the
+datcha des Iles," she explained. "And now you must go upstairs to bed,
+Feodor. You will pass a good night, I am sure."
+
+"I can sleep only if you sleep, Matrena."
+
+"I promise you. It is quite possible now that we have our dear little
+domovoi. You know, Feodor, that he smokes his pipe just like the dear
+little porcelain domovoi."
+
+"He does resemble him, he certainly does," said Feodor. "That makes us
+feel happy, but I wish him to sleep also."
+
+"Yes, yes," smiled Rouletabille, "everybody will sleep here. That is the
+countersign. We have watched enough. Since the police are gone we can
+all sleep, believe me, general."
+
+"Eh, eh, I believe you, on my word, easily enough. There were only they
+in the house capable of attempting that affair of the bouquet. I
+have thought that all out, and now I am at ease. And anyway, whatever
+happens, it is necessary to get sleep, isn't it? The chances of war!
+Nichevo!" He pressed Rouletabille's hand, and Matrena Petrovna took,
+as was her habit, Feodor Feodorovitch on her back and lugged him to his
+chamber. In that also she refused aid from anyone. The general clung to
+his wife's neck during the ascent and laughed like a child. Rouletabille
+remained in the hallway, watching the garden attentively. Ermolai walked
+out of the villa and crossed the garden, going to meet a personage in
+uniform whom the young man recognized immediately as the grand-marshal
+of the court, who had introduced him to the Tsar. Ermolai informed him
+that Madame Matrena was engaged in helping her husband retire, and the
+marshal remained at the end of the garden where he had found Michael and
+Boris talking in the kiosque. All three remained there for some time
+in conversation, standing by a table where General and Madame Trebassof
+sometimes dined when they had no guests. As they talked the marshal
+played with a box of white cardboard tied with a pink string. At this
+moment Matrena, who had not been able to resist the desire to talk for
+a moment with Rouletabille and tell him how happy she was, rejoined the
+young man.
+
+"Little domovoi," said she, laying her hand on his shoulder, "you have
+not watched on this side?"
+
+She pointed in her turn to the dining-room.
+
+"No, no. You have seen it, madame, and I am sufficiently informed."
+
+"Perfectly. There is nothing. No one has worked there! No one has
+touched the board. I knew it. I am sure of it. It is dreadful what we
+have thought about it! Oh, you do not know how relieved and happy I
+am. Ah, Natacha, Natacha, I have not loved you in vain. (She pronounced
+these words in accents of great beauty and tragic sincerity.) When I saw
+her leave us, my dear, ah, my legs sank under me. When she said, 'I have
+forgotten something; I must hurry back,' I felt I had not the strength
+to go a single step. But now I certainly am happy, that weight at least
+is off my heart, off my heart, dear little domovoi, because of you,
+because of you."
+
+She embraced him, and then ran away, like one possessed, to resume her
+post near the general.
+
+Notes in Rouletabille's memorandum-book: The affair of the little cavity
+under the floor not having been touched again proves nothing for or
+against Natacha (even though that excellent Matrena Petrovna thinks
+so). Natacha could very well have been warned by the too great care with
+which Madame Matrena watched the floor. My opinion, since I saw Matrena
+lift the carpet the first time without any real precaution, is that they
+have definitely abandoned the preparation of that attack and are trying
+to account for the secret becoming known. What Matrena feels so sure
+of is that the trap I laid by the promenade to the Point was against
+Natacha particularly. I knew beforehand that Natacha would absent
+herself during the promenade. I'm not looking for anything new from
+Natacha, but what I did need was to be sure that Matrena didn't detest
+Natacha, and that she had not faked the preparations for an attack under
+the floor in such a way as to throw almost certain suspicion on her
+step-daughter. I am sure about that now. Matrena is innocent of such a
+thing, the poor dear soul. If Matrena had been a monster the occasion
+was too good. Natacha's absence, her solitary presence for a quarter of
+an hour in the empty villa, all would have urged Matrena, whom I sent
+alone to search under the carpet in the dining-room, to draw the last
+nails from the board if she was really guilty of having drawn the
+others. Natacha would have been lost then! Matrena returned sincerely,
+tragically happy at not having found anything new, and now I have the
+material proof that I needed. Morally and physically Matrena is removed
+from it. So I am going to speak to her about the hat-pin. I believe that
+the matter is urgent on that side rather than on the side of the nails
+in the floor.
+
+
+
+
+
+VI. THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+
+After the departure of Matrena, Rouletabille turned his attention to the
+garden. Neither the marshal of the court nor the officers were there any
+longer. The three men had disappeared. Rouletabille wished to know
+at once where they had gone. He went rapidly to the gate, named the
+officers and the marshal to Ermolai, and Ermolai made a sign that they
+had passed out. Even as he spoke he saw the marshal's carriage disappear
+around a corner of the road. As to the two officers, they were nowhere
+on the roadway. He was surprised that the marshal should have gone
+without seeing Matrena or the general or himself, and, above all, he was
+disquieted by the disappearance of the orderlies. He gathered from the
+gestures of Ermolai that they had passed before the lodge only a
+few minutes after the marshal's departure. They had gone together.
+Rouletabille set himself to follow them, traced their steps in the soft
+earth of the roadway and soon they crossed onto the grass. At this point
+the tracks through the massed ferns became very difficult to follow. He
+hurried along, bending close to the ground over such traces as he could
+see, which continually led him astray, but which conducted him finally
+to the thing that he sought. A noise of voices made him raise his head
+and then throw himself behind a tree. Not twenty steps from him Natacha
+and Boris were having an animated conversation. The young officer held
+himself erect directly in front of her, frowning and impatient. Under
+the uniform cloak that he had wrapped about him without having bothered
+to use the sleeves, which were tossed up over his chest, Boris had
+his arms crossed. His entire attitude indicated hauteur, coldness and
+disdain for what he was hearing. Natacha never appeared calmer or more
+mistress of herself. She talked to him rapidly and mostly in a low
+voice. Sometimes a word in Russian sounded, and then she resumed her
+care to speak low. Finally she ceased, and Boris, after a short silence,
+in which he had seemed to reflect deeply, pronounced distinctly these
+words in French, pronouncing them syllable by syllable, as though to
+give them additional force:
+
+"You ask a frightful thing of me."
+
+"It is necessary to grant it to me," said the young girl with singular
+energy. "You understand, Boris Alexandrovitch! It is necessary."
+
+Her gaze, after she had glanced penetratingly all around her and
+discovered nothing suspicious, rested tenderly on the young officer,
+while she murmured, "My Boris!" The young man could not resist either
+the sweetness of that voice, nor the captivating charm of that glance.
+He took the hand she extended toward him and kissed it passionately. His
+eyes, fixed on Natacha, proclaimed that he granted everything that she
+wished and admitted himself vanquished. Then she said, always with that
+adorable gaze upon him, "This evening!" He replied, "Yes, yes. This
+evening! This evening!" upon which Natacha withdrew her hand and made a
+sign to the officer to leave, which he promptly obeyed. Natacha remained
+there still a long time, plunged in thought. Rouletabille had already
+taken the road back to the villa. Matrena Petrovna was watching for his
+return, seated on the first step of the landing on the great staircase
+which ran up from the veranda. When she saw him she ran to him. He had
+already reached the dining-room.
+
+"Anyone in the house?" he asked.
+
+"No one. Natacha has not returned, and..."
+
+"Your step-daughter is coming in now. Ask her where she has been, if she
+has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return this evening,
+in case she answers that she has seen them."
+
+"Very well, little domovoi doukh. The orderlies left without my seeing
+when they went."
+
+"Ah," interrupted Rouletabille, "before she arrives, give me all her
+hat-pins."
+
+"What!"
+
+"I say, all her hat-pins. Quickly!"
+
+Matrena ran to Natacha's chamber and returned with three enormous
+hat-pins with beautifully-cut stones in them.
+
+"These are all?"
+
+"They are all I have found. I know she has two others. She has one on
+her head, or two, perhaps; I can't find them."
+
+"Take these back where you found them," said the reporter, after
+glancing at them.
+
+Matrena returned immediately, not understanding what he was doing.
+
+"And now, your hat-pins. Yes, your hat-pins."
+
+"Oh, I have only two, and here they are," said she, drawing them from
+the toque she had been wearing and had thrown on the sofa when she
+re-entered the house.
+
+Rouletabille gave hers the same inspection.
+
+"Thanks. Here is your step-daughter."
+
+Natacha entered, flushed and smiling.
+
+"Ah, well," said she, quite breathless, "you may boast that I had to
+search for you. I made the entire round, clear past the Barque. Has the
+promenade done papa good?"
+
+"Yes, he is asleep," replied Matrena. "Have you met Boris and Michael?"
+
+She appeared to hesitate a second, then replied:
+
+"Yes, for an instant."
+
+"Did they say whether they would return this evening?"
+
+"No," she replied, slightly troubled. "Why all these questions?"
+
+She flushed still more.
+
+"Because I thought it strange," parried Matrena, "that they went away
+as they did, without saying goodby, without a word, without inquiring
+if the general needed them. There is something stranger yet. Did you see
+Kaltsof with them, the grand-marshal of the court?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Kaltsof came for a moment, entered the garden and went away again
+without seeing us, without saying even a word to the general."
+
+"Ah," said Natacha.
+
+With apparent indifference, she raised her arms and drew out her
+hat-pins. Rouletabille watched the pin without a word. The young girl
+hardly seemed aware of their presence. Entirely absorbed in strange
+thoughts, she replaced the pin in her hat and went to hang it in the
+veranda, which served also as vestibule. Rouletabille never quitted her
+eyes. Matrena watched the reporter with a stupid glance. Natacha crossed
+the drawing-room and entered her chamber by passing through her little
+sitting-room, through which all entrance to her chamber had to be made.
+That little room, though, had three doors. One opened into Natacha's
+chamber, one into the drawing-room, and the third into the little
+passage in a corner of the house where was the stairway by which the
+servants passed from the kitchens to the ground-floor and the
+upper floor. This passage had also a door giving directly upon the
+drawing-room. It was certainly a poor arrangement for serving the
+dining-room, which was on the other side of the drawing-room and behind
+the veranda, such a chance laying-out of a house as one often sees in
+the off-hand planning of many places in the country.
+
+Alone again with Rouletabille, Matrena noticed that he had not lost
+sight of the corner of the veranda where Natacha had hung her hat.
+Beside this hat there was a toque that Ermolai had brought in. The old
+servant had found it in some corner of the garden or the conservatory
+where he had been. A hat-pin stuck out of that toque also.
+
+"Whose toque is that?" asked Rouletabille. "I haven't seen it on the
+head of anyone here."
+
+"It is Natacha's," replied Matrena.
+
+She moved toward it, but the young man held her back, went into the
+veranda himself, and, without touching it, standing on tiptoe, he
+examined the pin. He sank back on his heels and turned toward Matrena.
+She caught a glimpse of fleeting emotion on the face of her little
+friend.
+
+"Explain to me," she said.
+
+But he gave her a glance that frightened her, and said low:
+
+"Go and give orders right away that dinner be served in the veranda.
+All through dinner it is absolutely necessary that the door of Natacha's
+sitting-room, and that of the stairway passage, and that of the veranda
+giving on the drawing-room remain open all the time. Do you understand
+me? As soon as you have given your orders go to the general's chamber
+and do not quit the general's bedside, keep it in view. Come down to
+dinner when it is announced, and do not bother yourself about anything
+further."
+
+So saying, he filled his pipe, lighted it with a sort of sigh of relief,
+and, after a final order to Matrena, "Go," he went into the garden,
+puffing great clouds. Anyone would have said he hadn't smoked in a week.
+He appeared not to be thinking but just idly enjoying himself. In fact,
+he played like a child with Milinki, Matrena's pet cat, which he pursued
+behind the shrubs, up into the little kiosque which, raised on piles,
+lifted its steep thatched roof above the panorama of the isles that
+Rouletabille settled down to contemplate like an artist with ample
+leisure.
+
+The dinner, where Matrena, Natacha and Rouletabille were together again,
+was lively. The young man having declared that he was more and more
+convinced that the mystery of the bomb in the bouquet was simply a play
+of the police, Natacha reinforced his opinion, and following that they
+found themselves in agreement on about everything else. For himself, the
+reporter during that conversation hid a real horror which had seized him
+at the cynical and inappropriate tranquillity with which the young lady
+received all suggestions that accused the police or that assumed the
+general no longer ran any immediate danger. In short, he worked, or at
+least believed he worked, to clear Natacha as he had cleared Matrena,
+so that there would develop the absolute necessity of assuming a third
+person's intervention in the facts disclosed so clearly by Koupriane
+where Matrena or Natacha seemed alone to be possible agents. As he
+listened to Natacha Rouletabille commenced to doubt and quake just as he
+had seen Matrena do. The more he looked into the nature of Natacha the
+dizzier he grew. What abysmal obscurities were there in her nature!
+
+Nothing interesting happened during dinner. Several times, in spite of
+Rouletabille's obvious impatience with her for doing it, Matrena went up
+to the general. She returned saying, "He is quiet. He doesn't sleep. He
+doesn't wish anything. He has asked me to prepare his narcotic. It is
+too bad. He has tried in vain, he cannot get along without it."
+
+"You, too, mamma, ought to take something to make you sleep. They say
+morphine is very good."
+
+"As for me," said Rouletabille, whose head for some few minutes had been
+dropping now toward one shoulder and now toward another, "I have no need
+of any narcotic to make me sleep. If you will permit me, I will get to
+bed at once."
+
+"Eh, my little domovoi doukh, I am going to carry you there in my arms."
+
+Matrena extended her large round arms ready to take Rouletabille as
+though he had been a baby.
+
+"No, no. I will get up there all right alone," said Rouletabille, rising
+stupidly and appearing ashamed of his excessive sleepiness.
+
+"Oh, well, let us both accompany him to his chamber," said Natacha, "and
+I will wish papa good-night. I'm eager for bed myself. We will all make
+a good night of it. Ermolai and Gniagnia will watch with the schwitzar
+in the lodge. Things are reasonably arranged now."
+
+They all ascended the stairs. Rouletabille did not even go to see the
+general, but threw himself on his bed. Natacha got onto the bed beside
+her father, embraced him a dozen times, and went downstairs again.
+Matrena followed behind her, closed doors and windows, went upstairs
+again to close the door of the landing-place and found Rouletabille
+seated on his bed, his arms crossed, not appearing to have any desire
+for sleep at all. His face was so strangely pensive also that the
+anxiety of Matrena, who had been able to make nothing out of his acts
+and looks all day, came back upon her instantly in greater force than
+ever. She touched his arm in order to be sure that he knew she was
+there.
+
+"My little friend," she said, "will you tell me now?"
+
+"Yes, madame," he replied at once. "Sit in that chair and listen to
+me. There are things you must know at once, because we have reached a
+dangerous hour."
+
+"The hat-pins first. The hat-pins!"
+
+Rouletabille rose lightly from the bed and, facing her, but watching
+something besides her, said:
+
+"It is necessary you should know that someone almost immediately is
+going to renew the attempt of the bouquet."
+
+Matrena sprang to her feet as quickly as though she had been told there
+was a bomb in the seat of her chair. She made herself sit down again,
+however, in obedience to Rouletabille's urgent look commanding absolute
+quiet.
+
+"Renew the attempt of the bouquet!" she murmured in a stifled voice.
+"But there is not a flower in the general's chamber."
+
+"Be calm, madame. Understand me and answer me: You heard the tick-tack
+from the bouquet while you were in your own chamber?"
+
+"Yes, with the doors open, naturally."
+
+"You told me the persons who came to say good-night to the general. At
+that time there was no noise of tick-tack?"
+
+"No, no."
+
+"Do you think that if there had been any tick-tack then you would have
+heard it, with all those persons talking in the room?"
+
+"I hear everything. I hear everything."
+
+"Did you go downstairs at the same time those people did?"
+
+"No, no; I remained near the general for some time, until he was sound
+asleep."
+
+"And you heard nothing?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"You closed the doors behind those persons?"
+
+"Yes, the door to the great staircase. The door of the servants'
+stairway was condemned a long time ago; it has been locked by me,
+I alone have the key and on the inside of the door opening into the
+general's chamber there is also a bolt which is always shot. All the
+other doors of the chambers have been condemned by me. In order to enter
+any of the four rooms on this floor it is necessary now to pass by the
+door of my chamber, which gives on the main staircase."
+
+"Perfect. Then, no one has been able to enter the apartment. No one
+had been in the apartment for at least two hours excepting you and the
+general, when you heard the clockwork. From that the only conclusion is
+that only the general and you could have started it going."
+
+"What are you trying to say?" Matrena demanded, astounded.
+
+"I wish to prove to you by this absurd conclusion, madame, that it is
+necessary never--never, you understand? Never--to reason solely upon
+even the most evident external evidence when those seemingly-conclusive
+appearances are in conflict with certain moral truths that also are
+clear as the light of day. The light of day for me, madame, is that the
+general does not desire to commit suicide and, above all, that he would
+not choose the strange method of suicide by clockwork. The light of
+day for me is that you adore your husband and that you are ready to
+sacrifice your life for his."
+
+"Now!" exclaimed Matrena, whose tears, always ready in emotional moments,
+flowed freely. "But, Holy Mary, why do you speak to me without looking
+at me? What is it? What is it?"
+
+"Don't turn! Don't make a movement! You hear--not a move! And speak low,
+very low. And don't cry, for the love of God!"
+
+"But you say at once... the bouquet! Come to the general's room!"
+
+"Not a move. And continue listening to me without interrupting," said
+he, still inclining his ear, and still without looking at her. "It
+is because these things were as the light of day to me that I say to
+myself, 'It is impossible that it should be impossible for a third
+person not to have placed the bomb in the bouquet. Someone is able to
+enter the general's chamber even when the general is watching and all
+the doors are locked.'"
+
+"Oh, no. No one could possibly enter. I swear it to you."
+
+As she swore it a little too loudly, Rouletabille seized her arm so that
+she almost cried out, but she understood instantly that it was to keep
+her quiet.
+
+"I tell you not to interrupt me, once for all."
+
+"But, then, tell me what you are looking at like that."
+
+"I am watching the corner where someone is going to enter the general's
+chamber when everything is locked, madame. Do not move!"
+
+Matrena, her teeth chattering, recalled that when she entered
+Rouletabille's chamber she had found all the doors open that
+communicated with the chain of rooms: the young man's chamber with
+hers, the dressing-room and the general's chamber. She tried, under
+Rouletabille's look, to keep calm, but in spite of all the reporter's
+exhortations she could not hold her tongue.
+
+"But which way? Where will they enter?"
+
+"By the door."
+
+"Which door?"
+
+"That of the chamber giving on the servants' stair-way."
+
+"Why, how? The key! The bolt!"
+
+"They have made a key."
+
+"But the bolt is drawn this side."
+
+"They will draw it back from the other side."
+
+"What! That is impossible."
+
+Rouletabille laid his two hands on Matrena's strong shoulders and
+repeated, detaching each syllable, "They will draw it back from the
+other side."
+
+"It is impossible. I repeat it."
+
+"Madame, your Nihilists haven't invented anything. It is a trick much
+in vogue with sneak thieves in hotels. All it needs is a little hole the
+size of a pin bored in the panel of the door above the bolt."
+
+"God!" quavered Matrena. "I don't understand what you mean by your
+little hole. Explain to me, little domovoi."
+
+"Follow me carefully, then," continued Rouletabille, his eyes all the
+time fixed elsewhere. "The person who wishes to enter sticks through the
+hole a brass wire that he has already given the necessary curve to and
+which is fitted on its end with a light point of steel curved inward.
+With such an instrument it is child's play, if the hole has been made
+where it ought to be, to touch the bolt on the inside from the outside,
+pick the knob on it, withdraw it, and open the door if the bolt is like
+this one, a small door-bolt."
+
+"Oh, oh, oh," moaned Matrena, who paled visibly. "And that hole?"
+
+"It exists."
+
+"You have discovered it?"
+
+"Yes, the first hour I was here."
+
+"Oh, domovoi! But how did you do that when you never entered the
+general's chamber until to-night?"
+
+"Doubtless, but I went up that servants' staircase much earlier than
+that. And I will tell you why. When I was brought into the villa the
+first time, and you watched me, bidden behind the door, do you know what
+I was watching myself, while I appeared to be solely occupied digging
+out the caviare? The fresh print of boot-nails which left the carpet
+near the table, where someone had spilled beer (the beer was still
+running down the cloth). Someone had stepped in the beer. The boot-print
+was not clearly visible excepting there. But from there it went to the
+door of the servants' stairway and mounted the stairs. That boot was too
+fine to be mounting a stairway reserved to servants and that Koupriane
+told me had been condemned, and it was that made me notice it in a
+moment; but just then you entered."
+
+"You never told me anything about it. Of course if I had known there was
+a boot-print..."
+
+"I didn't tell you anything about it because I had my reasons for that,
+and, anyway, the trace dried while I was telling you about my journey."
+
+"Ah, why not have told me later?"
+
+"Because I didn't know you yet."
+
+"Subtle devil! You will kill me. I can no longer... Let us go into the
+general's chamber. We will wake him."
+
+"Remain here. Remain here. I have not told you anything. That boot-print
+preoccupied me, and later, when I could get away from the dining-room,
+I was not easy until I had climbed that stairway myself and gone to see
+that door, where I discovered what I have just told you and what I am
+going to tell you now."
+
+"What? What? In all you have said there has been nothing about the
+hat-pins."
+
+"We have come to them now."
+
+"And the bouquet attack, which is going to happen again? Why? Why?"
+
+"This is it. When this evening you let me go to the general's chamber, I
+examined the bolt of the door without your suspecting it. My opinion was
+confirmed. It was that way that the bomb was brought, and it is by that
+way that someone has prepared to return."
+
+"But how? You are sure the little hole is the way someone came? But what
+makes you think that is how they mean to return? You know well enough
+that, not having succeeded in the general's chamber, they are at work in
+the dining-room."
+
+"Madame, it is probable, it is certain that they have given up the work
+in the dining-room since they have commenced this very day working again
+in the general's chamber. Yes, someone returned, returned that way, and
+I was so sure of that, of the forthcoming return, that I removed the
+police in order to be able to study everything more at my ease. Do you
+understand now my confidence and why I have been able to assume so heavy
+a responsibility? It is because I knew I had only one thing to watch:
+one little hat-pin. It is not difficult, madame, to watch a single
+little hat-pin."
+
+"A mistake," said Matrena, in a low voice. "Miserable little domovoi who
+told me nothing, me whom you let go to sleep on my mattress, in front of
+that door that might open any moment."
+
+"No, madame. For I was behind it!"
+
+"Ah, dear little holy angel! But what were you thinking of! That door
+has not been watched this afternoon. In our absence it could have been
+opened. If someone has placed a bomb during our absence!"
+
+"That is why I sent you at once in to the dining-room on that search
+that I thought would be fruitless, dear madame. And that is why I
+hurried upstairs to the bedroom. I went to the stairway door instantly.
+I had prepared for proof positive if anyone had pushed it open even half
+a millimeter. No, no one had touched the door in our absence.
+
+"Ah, dear heroic little friend of Jesus! But listen to me. Listen to me,
+my angel. Ah, I don't know where I am or what I say. My brain is no
+more than a flabby balloon punctured with pins, with little holes of
+hat-pins. Tell me about the hat-pins. Right off! No, at first, what is
+it that makes you believe--good God!--that someone will return by that
+door? How can you see that, all that, in a poor little hat-pin?"
+
+"Madame, it is not a single hat-pin hole; there are two of them.
+
+"Two hat-pin holes?"
+
+"Yes, two. An old one and a new one. One quite new. Why this second
+hole? Because the old one was judged a little too narrow and they wished
+to enlarge it, and in enlarging it they broke off the point of a hat-pin
+in it. Madame, the point is there yet, filling up the little old hole
+and the piece of metal is very sharp and very bright."
+
+"Now I understand the examination of the hat-pins. Then it is so easy as
+that to get through a door with a hat-pin?"
+
+"Nothing easier, especially if the panel is of pine. Sometimes one
+happens to break the point of a pin in the first hole. Then of necessity
+one makes a second. In order to commence the second hole, the point of
+the pin being broken, they have used the point of a pen-knife, then have
+finished the hole with the hat-pin. The second hole is still nearer the
+bolt than the first one. Don't move like that, madame."
+
+"But they are going to come! They are going to come!"
+
+"I believe so."
+
+"But I can't understand how you can remain so quiet with such a
+certainty. Great heavens! what proof have you that they have not been
+there already?"
+
+"Just an ordinary pin, madame, not a hat-pin this time. Don't confuse
+the pins. I will show you in a little while."
+
+"He will drive me distracted with his pins, dear light of my eyes!
+Bounty of Heaven! God's envoy! Dear little happiness-bearer!"
+
+In her transport she tried to take him in her trembling arms, but he
+waved her back. She caught her breath and resumed:
+
+"Did the examination of all the hat-pins tell you anything?"
+
+"Yes. The fifth hat-pin of Mademoiselle Natacha's, the one in the toque
+out in the veranda, has the tip newly broken off."
+
+"O misery!" cried Matrena, crumpling in her chair.
+
+Rouletabille raised her.
+
+"What would you have? I have examined your own hat-pins. Do you think
+I would have suspected you if I had found one of them broken? I
+would simply have thought that someone had used your property for an
+abominable purpose, that is all."
+
+"Oh, that is true, that is true. Pardon me. Mother of Christ, this boy
+crazes me! He consoles me and he horrifies me. He makes me think of such
+dreadful things, and then he reassures me. He does what he wishes with
+me. What should I become without him?"
+
+And this time she succeeded in taking his head in her two hands and
+kissing him passionately. Rouletabille pushed her back roughly.
+
+"You keep me from seeing," he said.
+
+She was in tears over his rebuff. She understood now. Rouletabille
+during all this conversation had not ceased to watch through the open
+doors of Matrena's room and the dressing-room the farther fatal door
+whose brass bolt shone in the yellow light of the night-lamp.
+
+At last he made her a sign and the reporter, followed by Matrena,
+advanced on tip-toe to the threshold of the general's chamber, keeping
+close to the wall. Feodor Feodorovitch slept. They heard his heavy
+breath, but he appeared to be enjoying peaceful sleep. The horrors of
+the night before had fled. Matrena was perhaps right in attributing the
+nightmares to the narcotic prepared for him each night, for the glass
+from which he drank it when he felt he could not sleep was still full
+and obviously had not been touched. The bed of the general was so placed
+that whoever occupied it, even if they were wide awake, could not see
+the door giving on the servants' stairway. The little table where the
+glass and various phials were placed and which had borne the dangerous
+bouquet, was placed near the bed, a little back of it, and nearer the
+door. Nothing would have been easier than for someone who could open
+the door to stretch an arm and place the infernal machine among the wild
+flowers, above all, as could easily be believed, if he had waited
+for that treachery until the heavy breathing of the general told them
+outside that he was fast asleep, and if, looking through the key-hole,
+he had made sure Matrena was occupied in her own chamber. Rouletabille,
+at the threshold, glided to one side, out of the line of view from the
+hole, and got down on all fours. He crawled toward the door. With his
+head to the floor he made sure that the little ordinary pin which he had
+placed on guard that evening, stuck in the floor against the door, was
+still erect, having thus additional proof that the door had not been
+moved. In any other case the pin would have lain flat on the floor. He
+crept back, rose to his feet, passed into the dressing-room and, in a
+corner, had a rapid conversation in a low voice with Matrena.
+
+"You will go," said he, "and take your mattress into the corner of the
+dressing-room where you can still see the door but no one can see you
+by looking through the key-hole. Do that quite naturally, and then go
+to your rest. I will pass the night on the mattress, and I beg you to
+believe that I will be more comfortable there than on a bed of staircase
+wood where I spent the night last night, behind the door."
+
+"Yes, but you will fall asleep. I don't wish that."
+
+"What are you thinking, madame?"
+
+"I don't wish it. I don't wish it. I don't wish to quit the door where
+the eye is. And since I'm not able to sleep, let me watch."
+
+He did not insist, and they crouched together on the mattress.
+Rouletabille was squatted like a tailor at work; but Matrena remained on
+all-fours, her jaw out, her eyes fixed, like a bulldog ready to spring.
+The minutes passed by in profound silence, broken only by the irregular
+breathing and puffing of the general. His face stood out pallid and
+tragic on the pillow; his mouth was open and, at times, the lips
+moved. There was fear at any moment of nightmare or his awakening.
+Unconsciously he threw an arm over toward the table where the glass
+of narcotic stood. Then he lay still again and snored lightly. The
+night-lamp on the mantelpiece caught queer yellow reflections from the
+corners of the furniture, from the gilded frame of a picture on the wall
+and from the phials and glasses on the table. But in all the chamber
+Matrena Petrovna saw nothing, thought of nothing but the brass bolt
+which shone there on the door. Tired of being on her knees, she shifted,
+her chin in her hands, her gaze steadily fixed. As time passed and
+nothing happened she heaved a sigh. She could not have said whether she
+hoped for or dreaded the coming of that something new which Rouletabille
+had indicated. Rouletabille felt her shiver with anguish and impatience.
+
+As for him, he had not hoped that anything would come to pass until
+toward dawn, the moment, as everyone knows, when deep sleep is most apt
+to vanquish all watchfulness and all insomnia. And as he waited for that
+moment he had not budged any more than a Chinese ape or the dear little
+porcelain domovoi doukh in the garden. Of course it might be that it was
+not to happen this night.
+
+Suddenly Matrena's hand fell on Rouletabille's. His imprisoned hers so
+firmly that she understood she was forbidden to make the least movement.
+And both, with necks extended, ears erect, watched like beasts, like
+beasts on the scent.
+
+Yes, yes, there had been a slight noise in the lock. A key turned,
+softly, softly, in the lock, and then--silence; and then another little
+noise, a grinding sound, a slight grating of wire, above, then on the
+bolt; upon the bolt which shone in the subdued glow of the night-lamp.
+The bolt softly, very softly, slipped slowly.
+
+Then the door was pushed slowly, so slowly. It opened.
+
+Through the opening the shadow of an arm stretched, an arm which held
+in its fingers something which shone. Rouletabille felt Matrena ready to
+bound. He encircled her, he pressed her in his arms, he restrained her
+in silence, and he had a horrible fear of hearing her suddenly shout,
+while the arm stretched out, almost touched the pillow on the bed where
+the general continued to sleep a sleep of peace such as he had not known
+for a long time.
+
+
+
+
+
+VII. ARSENATE OF SODA
+
+The mysterious hand held a phial and poured the entire contents into the
+potion. Then the hand withdrew as it had come, slowly, prudently, slyly,
+and the key turned in the lock and the bolt slipped back into place.
+
+Like a wolf, Rouletabille, warning Matrena for a last time not to budge,
+gained the landing-place, bounded towards the stairs, slid down the
+banister right to the veranda, crossed the drawing-room like a flash,
+and reached the little sitting-room without having jostled a single
+piece of furniture. He noticed nothing, saw nothing. All around was
+undisturbed and silent.
+
+The first light of dawn filtered through the blinds. He was able to
+make out that the only closed door was the one to Natacha's chamber. He
+stopped before that door, his heart beating, and listened. But no sound
+came to his ear. He had glided so lightly over the carpet that he was
+sure he had not been heard. Perhaps that door would open. He waited. In
+vain. It seemed to him there was nothing alive in that house except his
+heart. He was stifled with the horror that he glimpsed, that he almost
+touched, although that door remained closed. He felt along the wall
+in order to reach the window, and pulled aside the curtain. Window and
+blinds of the little room giving on the Neva were closed. The bar of
+iron inside was in its place. Then he went to the passage, mounted and
+descended the narrow servants' stairway, looked all about, in all the
+rooms, feeling everywhere with silent hands, assuring himself that no
+lock had been tampered with. On his return to the veranda, as he raised
+his head, he saw at the top of the main staircase a figure wan as death,
+a spectral apparition amid the shadows of the passing night, who leaned
+toward him. It was Matrena Petrovna. She came down, silent as a phantom
+and he no longer recognized her voice when she demanded of him, "Where?
+I require that you tell me. Where?"
+
+"I have looked everywhere," he said, so low that Matrena had to come
+nearer to understand his whisper. "Everything is shut tight. And there
+is no one about."
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille with all the power of her eyes, as though
+she would discover his inmost thoughts, but his clear glance did not
+waver, and she saw there was nothing he wished to hide. Then Matrena
+pointed her finger at Natacha's chamber.
+
+"You have not gone in there?" she inquired.
+
+He replied, "It is not necessary to enter there."
+
+"I will enter there, myself, nevertheless," said she, and she set her
+teeth.
+
+He barred her way with his arms spread out.
+
+"If you hold the life of someone dear," said he, "don't go a step
+farther."
+
+"But the person is in that chamber. The person is there! It is there
+you will find out!" And she waved him aside with a gesture as though she
+were sleepwalking.
+
+To recall her to the reality of what he had said to her and to make her
+understand what he desired, he had to grip her wrist in the vice of his
+nervous hand.
+
+"The person is not there, perhaps," he said, shaking his head. "Understand me
+now."
+
+But she did not understand him. She said:
+
+"Since the person is nowhere else, the person must be there."
+
+But Rouletabille continued obstinately:
+
+"No, no. Perhaps he is gone."
+
+"Gone! And everything locked on the inside!"
+
+"That is not a reason," he replied.
+
+But she could not follow his thoughts any further. She wished absolutely
+to make her way into Natacha's chamber. The obsession of that was upon
+her.
+
+"If you enter there," said he, "and if (as is most probable) you don't
+find what you seek there, all is lost! And as to me, I give up the whole
+thing."
+
+She sank in a heap onto a chair.
+
+"Don't despair," he murmured. "We don't know for sure yet."
+
+She shook her poor old head dejectedly.
+
+"We know that only she is here, since no one has been able to enter and
+since no one has been able to leave."
+
+That, in truth, filled her brain, prevented her from discerning in any
+corner of her mind the thought of Rouletabille. Then the impossible
+dialogue resumed.
+
+"I repeat that we do not know but that the person has gone," repeated
+the reporter, and demanded her keys.
+
+"Foolish," she said. "What do you want them for?"
+
+"To search outside as we have searched inside."
+
+"Why, everything is locked on the inside!"
+
+"Madame, once more, that is no reason that the person may not be
+outside."
+
+He consumed five minutes opening the door of the veranda, so many were
+his precautions. She watched him impatiently.
+
+He whispered to her:
+
+"I am going out, but don't you lose sight of the little sitting-room. At
+the least movement call me; fire a revolver if you need to."
+
+He slipped into the garden with the same precautions for silence. From
+the corner that she kept to, through the doors left open, Matrena could
+follow all the movements of the reporter and watch Natacha's chamber
+at the same time. The attitude of Rouletabille continued to confuse her
+beyond all expression. She watched what he did as if she thought him
+besotted. The dyernick on guard out in the roadway also watched the
+young man through the bars of the gate in consternation, as though he
+thought him a fool. Along the paths of beaten earth or cement which
+offered no chance for footprints Rouletabille hurried silently. Around
+him he noted that the grass of the lawn had not been trodden. And then
+he paid no more attention to his steps. He seemed to study attentively
+the rosy color in the east, breathing the delicacy of dawning morning in
+the Isles, amid the silence of the earth, which still slumbered.
+
+Bare-headed, face thrown back, hands behind his back, eyes raised and
+fixed, he made a few steps, then suddenly stopped as if he had been
+given an electric shock. As soon as he seemed to have recovered from
+that shock he turned around and went a few steps back to another path,
+into which he advanced, straight ahead, his face high, with the same
+fixed look that he had had up to the time he so suddenly stopped, as
+if something or someone advised or warned him not to go further. He
+continually worked back toward the house, and thus he traversed all the
+paths that led from the villa, but in all these excursions he took pains
+not to place himself in the field of vision from Natacha's window, a
+restricted field because of its location just around an abutment of the
+building. To ascertain about this window he crept on all-fours up to the
+garden-edge that ran along the foot of the wall and had sufficient proof
+that no one had jumped out that way. Then he went to rejoin Matrena in
+the veranda.
+
+"No one has come into the garden this morning," said he, "and no one has
+gone out of the villa into the garden. Now I am going to look outside
+the grounds. Wait here; I'll be back in five minutes."
+
+He went away, knocked discreetly on the window of the lodge and waited
+some seconds. Ermolai came out and opened the gate for him. Matrena
+moved to the threshold of the little sitting-room and watched Natacha's
+door with horror. She felt her legs give under her, she could not stand
+up under the diabolic thought of such a crime. Ah, that arm, that arm!
+reaching out, making its way, with a little shining phial in its hand.
+Pains of Christ! What could there be in the damnable books over which
+Natacha and her companions pored that could make such abominable crimes
+possible? Ah, Natacha, Natacha! it was from her that she would have
+desired the answer, straining her almost to stifling on her rough bosom
+and strangling her with her own strong hand that she might not hear the
+response. Ah, Natacha, Natacha, whom she had loved so much! She sank to
+the floor, crept across the carpet to the door, and lay there, stretched
+like a beast, and buried her head in her arms while she wept over her
+daughter. Natacha, Natacha, whom she had cherished as her own child, and
+who did not hear her. Ah, what use that the little fellow had gone to
+search outside when the whole truth lay behind this door? Thinking of
+him, she was embarrassed lest he should find her in that animalistic
+posture, and she rose to her knees and worked her way over to the window
+that looked out upon the Neva. The angle of the slanting blinds let her
+see well enough what passed outside, and what she saw made her
+spring to her feet. Below her the reporter was going through the same
+incomprehensible maneuvers that she had seen him do in the garden. Three
+pathways led to the little road that ran along the wall of the villa
+by the bank of the Neva. The young man, still with his hands behind his
+back and with his face up, took them one after the other. In the first
+he stopped at the first step. He didn't take more than two steps in the
+second. In the third, which cut obliquely toward the right and seemed to
+run to the bank nearest Krestowsky Ostrow, she saw him advance slowly at
+first, then more quickly among the small trees and hedges. Once only
+he stopped and looked closely at the trunk of a tree against which he
+seemed to pick out something invisible, and then he continued to the
+bank. There he sat down on a stone and appeared to reflect, and then
+suddenly he cast off his jacket and trousers, picked out a certain place
+on the bank across from him, finished undressing and plunged into the
+stream. She saw at once that he swam like a porpoise, keeping beneath
+and showing his head from time to time, breathing, then diving below the
+surface again. He reached Krestowsky Ostrow in a clump of reeds. Then he
+disappeared. Below him, surrounded by trees, could be seen the red tiles
+of the villa which sheltered Boris and Michael. From that villa a
+person could see the window of the sitting-room in General Trebassof's
+residence, but not what might occur along the bank of the river
+just below its walls. An isvotchick drove along the distant route of
+Krestowsky, conveying in his carriage a company of young officers and
+young women who had been feasting and who sang as they rode; then deep
+silence ensued. Matrena's eyes searched for Rouletabille, but could not
+find him. How long was he going to stay hidden like that? She pressed
+her face against the chill window. What was she waiting for? She waited
+perhaps for someone to make a move on this side, for the door near her
+to open and the traitorous figure of The Other to appear.
+
+A hand touched her carefully. She turned.
+
+Rouletabille was there, his face all scarred by red scratches, without
+collar or neck-tie, having hastily resumed his clothes. He appeared
+furious as he surprised her in his disarray. She let him lead her as
+though she were a child. He drew her to his room and closed the door.
+
+"Madame," he commenced, "it is impossible to work with you. Why in the
+world have you wept not two feet from your step-daughter's door? You and
+your Koupriane, you commence to make me regret the Faubourg Poissoniere,
+you know. Your step-daughter has certainly heard you. It is lucky that
+she attaches no importance at all to your nocturnal phantasmagorias, and
+that she has been used to them a long time. She has more sense than you,
+Mademoiselle Natacha has. She sleeps, or at least she pretends to sleep,
+which leaves everybody in peace. What reply will you give her if it
+happens that she asks you the reason to-day for your marching and
+counter-marching up and down the sitting-room and complains that you
+kept her from sleeping?"
+
+Matrena only shook her old, old head.
+
+"No, no, she has not heard me. I was there like a shadow, like a shadow
+of myself. She will never hear me. No one hears a shadow."
+
+Rouletabille felt returning pity for her and spoke more gently.
+
+"In any case, it is necessary, you must understand, that she should
+attach no more importance to what you have done to-night than to the
+things she knows of your doing other nights. It is not the first time,
+is it, that you have wandered in the sitting-room? You understand me?
+And to-morrow, madame, embrace her as you always have."
+
+"No, not that," she moaned. "Never that. I could not."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Matrena did not reply. She wept. He took her in his arms like a child
+consoling its mother.
+
+"Don't cry. Don't cry. All is not lost. Someone did leave the villa this
+morning."
+
+"Oh, little domovoi! How is that? How is that? How did you find that
+out?"
+
+"Since we didn't find anything inside, it was certainly necessary to
+find something outside."
+
+"And you have found it?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"The Virgin protect you!"
+
+"SHE is with us. She will not desert us. I will even say that I believe
+she has a special guardianship over the Isles. She watches over them
+from evening to morning."
+
+"What are you saying?"
+
+"Certainly. You don't know what we call in France 'the watchers of the
+Virgin'?"
+
+"Oh, yes, they are the webs that the dear little beasts of the good God
+spin between the trees and that..."
+
+"Exactly. You understand me and you will understand further when you
+know that in the garden the first thing that struck me across the face
+as I went into it was these watchers of the Virgin spun by the dear
+little spiders of the good God. At first when I felt them on my face I
+said to myself, 'Hold on, no one has passed this way,' and so I went to
+search other places. The webs stopped me everywhere in the garden. But,
+outside the garden, they kept out of the way and let me pass undisturbed
+down a pathway which led to the Neva. So then I said to myself, 'Now,
+has the Virgin by accident overlooked her work in this pathway? Surely
+not. Someone has ruined it.' I found the shreds of them hanging to the
+bushes, and so I reached the river."
+
+"And you threw yourself into the river, my dear angel. You swim like a
+little god."
+
+"And I landed where the other landed. Yes, there were the reeds all
+freshly broken. And I slipped in among the bushes."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"Up to the Villa Krestowsky, madame--where they both live."
+
+"Ah, it was from there someone came?"
+
+There was a silence between them.
+
+She questioned:
+
+"Boris?"
+
+"Someone who came from the villa and who returned there. Boris or
+Michael, or another. They went and returned through the reeds. But in
+coming they used a boat; they returned by swimming."
+
+Her customary agitation reasserted itself.
+
+She demanded ardently:
+
+"And you are sure that he came here and that he left here?"
+
+"Yes, I am sure of it."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By the sitting-room window."
+
+"It is impossible, for we found it locked."
+
+"It is possible, if someone closed it behind him."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+She commenced to tremble again, and, falling back into her nightmarish
+horror, she no longer wasted fond expletives on her domovoi as on a dear
+little angel who had just rendered a service ten times more precious to
+her than life. While he listened patiently, she said brutally:
+
+"Why did you keep me from throwing myself on him, from rushing upon him
+as he opened the door? Ah, I would have, I would have... we would know."
+
+"No. At the least noise he would have closed the door. A turn of the key
+and he would have escaped forever. And he would have been warned."
+
+"Careless boy! Why then, if you knew he was going to come, didn't you
+leave me in the bedroom and you watch below yourself?"
+
+"Because so long as I was below he would not have come. He only comes
+when there is no one downstairs."
+
+"Ah, Saints Peter and Paul pity a poor woman. Who do you think it is,
+then? Who do you think it is? I can't think any more. Tell me, tell me
+that. You ought to know--you know everything. Come--who? I demand the
+truth. Who? Still some agent of the Committee, of the Central Committee?
+Still the Nihilists?"
+
+"If it was only that!" said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+"You have sworn to drive me mad! What do you mean by your 'if it was
+only that'?"
+
+Rouletabille, imperturbable, did not reply.
+
+"What have you done with the potion?" said he.
+
+"The potion? The glass of the crime! I have locked it in my room, in the
+cupboard--safe, safe!"
+
+"Ah, but, madame, it is necessary to replace it where you took it from."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, after having poured the poison into a phial, to wash the glass and
+fill it with another potion."
+
+"You are right. You think of everything. If the general wakes and wants
+his potion, he must not be suspicious of anything, and he must be able
+to have his drink."
+
+"It is not necessary that he should drink."
+
+"Well, then, why have the drink there?"
+
+"So that the person can be sure, madame, that if he has not drunk it is
+simply because he has not wished to. A pure chance, madame, that he is
+not poisoned. You understand me this time?"
+
+"Yes, yes. O Christ! But how now, if the general wakes and wishes to
+drink his narcotic?"
+
+"Tell him I forbid it. And here is another thing you must do.
+When--Someone--comes into the general's chamber, in the morning, you
+must quite openly and naturally throw out the potion, useless and vapid,
+you see, and so Someone will have no right to be astonished that the
+general continues to enjoy excellent health."
+
+"Yes, yes, little one; you are wiser than King Solomon. And what will I
+do with the phial of poison?"
+
+"Bring it to me."
+
+"Right away."
+
+She went for it and returned five minutes later.
+
+"He is still asleep. I have put the glass on the table, out of his
+reach. He will have to call me."
+
+"Very good. Then push the door to, close it; we have to talk things
+over."
+
+"But if someone goes back up the servants' staircase?"
+
+"Be easy about that. They think the general is poisoned already. It is
+the first care-free moment I have been able to enjoy in this house."
+
+"When will you stop making me shake with horror, little demon! You keep
+your secret well, I must say. The general is sleeping better than if he
+really were poisoned. But what shall we do about Natacha? I dare ask you
+that--you and you alone."
+
+"Nothing at all."
+
+"How--nothing?"
+
+"We will watch her..."
+
+"Ah, yes, yes."
+
+"Still, Matrena, you let me watch her by myself."
+
+"Yes, yes, I promise you. I will not pay any attention to her. That
+is promised. That is promised. Do as you please. Why, just now, when I
+spoke of the Nihilists to you, did you say, 'If it were only that!'? You
+believe, then, that she is not a Nihilist? She reads such things--things
+like on the barricades..."
+
+"Madame, madame, you think of nothing but Natacha. You have promised me
+not to watch her; promise me not to think about her."
+
+"Why, why did you say, 'If it was only that!'?"
+
+"Because, if there were only Nihilists in your affair, dear madame, it
+would be too simple, or, rather, it would have been more simple. Can
+you possibly believe, madame, that simply a Nihilist, a Nihilist who was
+only a Nihilist, would take pains that his bomb exploded from a vase of
+flowers?--that it would have mattered where, so long as it overwhelmed
+the general? Do you imagine that the bomb would have had less effect
+behind the door than in front of it? And the little cavity under the
+floor, do you believe that a genuine revolutionary, such as you have
+here in Russia, would amuse himself by penetrating to the villa only
+to draw out two nails from a board, when one happens to give him
+time between two visits to the dining-room? Do you suppose that a
+revolutionary who wished to avenge the dead of Moscow and who could
+succeed in getting so far as the door behind which General Trebassof
+slept would amuse himself by making a little hole with a pin in order
+to draw back the bolt and amuse himself by pouring poison into a glass?
+Why, in such a case, he would have thrown his bomb outright, whether it
+blew him up along with the villa, or he was arrested on the spot, or had
+to submit to the martyrdom of the dungeons in the Fortress of SS. Peter
+and Paul, or be hung at Schlusselburg. Isn't that what always happens?
+That is the way he would have done, and not have acted like a hotel-rat!
+Now, there is someone in your home (or who comes to your home) who acts
+like a hotel-rat because he does not wish to be seen, because he does
+not wish to be discovered, because he does not wish to be taken in the
+act. Now, the moment that he fears nothing so much as to be taken in
+the act, so that he plays all these tricks of legerdemain, it is certain
+that his object lies beyond the act itself, beyond the bomb, beyond
+the poison. Why all this necessity for bombs of deferred explosion, for
+clockwork placed where it will be confused with other things, and not on
+a bare staircase forbidden to everybody, though you visit it twenty times
+a day?"
+
+"But this man comes in as he pleases by day and by night? You don't
+answer. You know who he is, perhaps?"
+
+"I know him, perhaps, but I am not sure who it is yet."
+
+"You are not curious, little domovoi doukh! A friend of the house,
+certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because
+someone opens the window for him. And who comes from the Krestowsky
+Villa! Boris or Michael! Ah, poor miserable Matrena! Why don't they
+kill poor Matrena? Their general! Their general! And they are
+soldiers--soldiers who come at night to kill their general. Aided by--by
+whom? Do you believe that? You? Light of my eyes! you believe that! No,
+no, that is not possible! I want you to understand, monsieur le domovoi,
+that I am not able to believe anything so horrible. No, no, by Jesus
+Christ Who died on the Cross, and Who searches our hearts, I do not
+believe that Boris--who, however, has very advanced ideas, I admit--it
+is necessary not to forget that; very advanced; and who composes very
+advanced verses also, as I have always told him--I will not believe that
+Boris is capable of such a fearful crime. As to Michael, he is an honest
+man, and my daughter, my Natacha, is an honest girl. Everything looks
+very bad, truly, but I do not suspect either Michael or Boris or my pure
+and beloved Natacha (even though she has made a translation into French
+of very advanced verses, certainly most improper for the daughter of a
+general). That is what lies at the bottom of my mind, the bottom of my
+heart--you have understood me perfectly, little angel of paradise? Ah,
+it is you the general owes his life to, that Matrena owes her life.
+Without you this house would already be a coffin. How shall I ever
+reward you? You wish for nothing! I annoy you! You don't even listen to
+me! A coffin--we would all be in our coffins! Tell me what you desire.
+All that I have belongs to you!"
+
+"I desire to smoke a pipe.
+
+"Ah, a pipe! Do you want some yellow perfumed tobacco that I receive
+every month from Constantinople, a treat right from the harem? I will
+get enough for you, if you like it, to smoke ten thousand pipes full."
+
+"I prefer caporal," replied Rouletabille. "But you are right. It is not
+wise to suspect anybody. See, watch, wait. There is always time, once
+the game is caught, to say whether it is a hare or a wild boar. Listen
+to me, then, my good mamma. We must know first what is in the phial.
+Where is it?"
+
+"Here it is."
+
+She drew it from her sleeve. He stowed it in his pocket.
+
+"You wish the general a good appetite, for me. I am going out. I will be
+back in two hours at the latest. And, above all, don't let the general
+know anything. I am going to see one of my friends who lives in
+the Aptiekarski pereolek."*
+
+     * The little street of the apothecaries.
+
+"Depend on me, and get back quickly for love of me. My blood clogs in my
+heart when you are not here, dear servant of God."
+
+She mounted to the general's room and came down at least ten times to
+see if Rouletabille had not returned. Two hours later he was around the
+villa, as he had promised. She could not keep herself from running to
+meet him, for which she was scolded.
+
+"Be calm. Be calm. Do you know what was in the phial?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Arsenate of soda, enough to kill ten people."
+
+"Holy Mary!"
+
+"Be quiet. Go upstairs to the general."
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch was in charming humor. It was his first good night
+since the death of the youth of Moscow. He attributed it to his not
+having touched the narcotic and resolved, once more, to give up the
+narcotic, a resolve Rouletabille and Matrena encouraged. During the
+conversation there was a knock at the door of Matrena's chamber. She ran
+to see who was there, and returned with Natacha, who wished to embrace
+her father. Her face showed traces of fatigue. Certainly she had not
+passed as good a night as her father, and the general reproached her for
+looking so downcast.
+
+"It is true. I had dreadful dreams. But you, papa, did you sleep well?
+Did you take your narcotic?"
+
+"No, no, I have not touched a drop of my potion."
+
+"Yes, I see. Oh, well, that is all right; that is very good. Natural
+sleep must be coming back..."
+
+Matrena, as though hypnotized by Rouletabille, had taken the glass from
+the table and ostentatiously carried it to the dressing-room to throw it
+out, and she delayed there to recover her self-possession.
+
+Natacha continued:
+
+"You will see, papa, that you will be able to live just like everyone
+else finally. The great thing was to clear away the police, the
+atrocious police; wasn't it, Monsieur Rouletabille?"
+
+"I have always said, for myself, that I am entirely of Mademoiselle
+Natacha's mind. You can be entirely reassured now, and I shall leave
+you feeling reassured. Yes, I must think of getting my interviews done
+quickly, and departing. Ah well, I can only say what I think. Run things
+yourselves and you will not run any danger. Besides, the general gets
+much better, and soon I shall see you all in France, I hope. I must
+thank you now for your friendly hospitality."
+
+"Ah, but you are not going? You are not going!" Matrena had already set
+herself to protest with all the strenuous torrent of words in her
+poor desolated heart, when a glance from the reporter cut short her
+despairing utterances.
+
+"I shall have to remain a week still in the city. I have engaged a
+chamber at the Hotel de France. It is necessary. I have so many people
+to see and to receive. I will come to make you a little visit from time
+to time."
+
+"You are then quite easy," demanded the general gravely, "at leaving me
+all alone?"
+
+"Entirely easy. And, besides, I don't leave you all alone. I leave you
+with Madame Trebassof and Mademoiselle. I repeat: All three of you stay
+as I see you now. No more police, or, in any case, the fewest possible."
+
+"He is right, he is right," repeated Natacha again.
+
+At this moment there were fresh knocks at the door of Matrena's chamber.
+It was Ermolai, who announced that his Excellency the Marshal of the
+Court, Count Keltzof, wished to see the general, acting for His Majesty.
+
+"Go and receive the Count, Natacha, and tell him that your father will
+be downstairs in a moment."
+
+Natacha and Rouletabille went down and found the Count in the
+drawing-room. He was a magnificent specimen, handsome and big as one
+of the Swiss papal guard. He seemed watchful in all directions and all
+among the furniture, and was quite evidently disquieted. He advanced
+immediately to meet the young lady, inquiring the news.
+
+"It is all good news," replied Natacha. "Everybody here is splendid. The
+general is quite gay. But what news have you, monsieur le marechal? You
+appear preoccupied."
+
+The marshal had pressed Rouletabille's hand.
+
+"And my grapes?" he demanded of Natacha.
+
+"How, your grapes? What grapes?"
+
+"If you have not touched them, so much the better. I arrived here very
+anxious. I brought you yesterday, from Krasnoie-Coelo, some of the
+Emperor's grapes that Feodor Feodorovitch enjoyed so much. Now
+this morning I learned that the eldest son of Doucet, the French
+head-gardener of the Imperial conservatories at Krasnoie, had died from
+eating those grapes, which he had taken from those gathered for me to
+bring here. Imagine my dismay. I knew, however, that at the general's
+table, grapes would not be eaten without having been washed, but I
+reproached myself for not having taken the precaution of leaving word
+that Doucet recommend that they be washed thoroughly. Still, I don't
+suppose it would matter. I couldn't see how my gift could be dangerous,
+but when I learned of little Doucet's death this morning, I jumped into
+the first train and came straight here."
+
+"But, your Excellency," interrupted Natacha, "we have not seen your
+grapes."
+
+"Ah, they have not been served yet? All the better. Thank goodness!"
+
+"The Emperor's grapes are diseased, then?" interrogated Rouletabille.
+"Phylloxera pest has got into the conservatories?"
+
+"Nothing can stop it, Doucet told me. So he didn't want me to leave last
+evening until he had washed the grapes. Unfortunately, I was pressed
+for time and I took them as they were, without any idea that the mixture
+they spray on the grapes to protect them was so deadly. It appears that
+in the vineyard country they have such accidents every year. They call
+it, I think, the... the mixture..."
+
+"The Bordeaux mixture," was heard in Rouletabille's trembling voice "And
+do you know what it is, Your Excellency, this Bordeaux mixture?"
+
+"Why, no."
+
+At this moment the general came down the stairs, clinging to the
+banister and supported by Matrena Petrovna.
+
+"Well," continued Rouletabille, watching Natacha, "the Bordeaux mixture
+which covered the grapes you brought the general yesterday was nothing
+more nor less than arsenate of soda."
+
+"Ah, God!" cried Natacha.
+
+As for Matrena Petrovna, she uttered a low exclamation and let go the
+general, who almost fell down the staircase. Everybody rushed. The
+general laughed. Matrena, under the stringent look of Rouletabille,
+stammered that she had suddenly felt faint. At last they were all
+together in the veranda. The general settled back on his sofa and
+inquired:
+
+"Well, now, were you just saying something, my dear marshal, about some
+grapes you have brought me?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Natacha, quite frightened, "and what he said isn't
+pleasant at all. The son of Doucet, the court gardener, has just been
+poisoned by the same grapes that monsieur le marschal, it appears,
+brought you."
+
+"Where was this? Grapes? What grapes? I haven't seen any grapes!"
+exclaimed Matrena. "I noticed you, yesterday, marshal, out in the
+garden, but you went away almost immediately, and I certainly was
+surprised that you did not come in. What is this story?"
+
+"Well, we must clear this matter up. It is absolutely necessary that we
+know what happened to those grapes."
+
+"Certainly," said Rouletabille, "they could cause a catastrophe."
+
+"If it has not happened already," fretted the marshal.
+
+"But how? Where are they? Whom did you give them to?"
+
+"I carried them in a white cardboard box, the first one that came to
+hand in Doucet's place. I came here the first time and didn't find you.
+I returned again with the box, and the general was just lying down.
+I was pressed for my train and Michael Nikolaievitch and Boris
+Alexandrovitch were in the garden, so I asked them to execute my
+commission, and I laid the box down near them on the little garden
+table, telling them not to forget to tell you it was necessary to wash
+the grapes as Doucet expressly recommended."
+
+"But it is unbelievable! It is terrible!" quavered Matrena. "Where can
+the grapes be? We must know."
+
+"Absolutely," approved Rouletabille.
+
+"We must ask Boris and Michael," said Natacha. "Good God! surely they
+have not eaten them! Perhaps they are sick."
+
+"Here they are," said the general. All turned. Michael and Boris were
+coming up the steps. Rouletabille, who was in a shadowed corner under
+the main staircase, did not lose a single play of muscle on the two
+faces which for him were two problems to solve. Both faces were smiling;
+too smiling, perhaps.
+
+"Michael! Boris! Come here," cried Feodor Feodorovitch. "What have you
+done with the grapes from monsieur le marechal?"
+
+They both looked at him upon this brusque interrogation, seemed not to
+understand, and then, suddenly recalling, they declared very naturally
+that they had left them on the garden table and had not thought about
+them.
+
+"You forgot my caution, then?" said Count Kaltzof severely.
+
+"What caution?" said Boris. "Oh, yes, the washing of the grapes.
+Doucet's caution."
+
+"Do you know what has happened to Doucet with those grapes? His eldest
+son is dead, poisoned. Do you understand now why we are anxious to know
+what has become of my grapes?"
+
+"But they ought to be out there on the table," said Michael.
+
+"No one can find them anywhere," declared Matrena, who, no less than
+Rouletabille, watched every change in the countenances of the two
+officers. "How did it happen that you went away yesterday evening
+without saying good-bye, without seeing us, without troubling yourselves
+whether or not the general might need you?"
+
+"Madame," said Michael, coldly, in military fashion, as though he
+replied to his superior officer himself, "we have ample excuse to offer
+you and the general. It is necessary that we make an admission, and the
+general will pardon us, I am sure. Boris and I, during the promenade,
+happened to quarrel. That quarrel was in full swing when we reached here
+and we were discussing the way to end it most promptly when monsieur
+le marechal entered the garden. We must make that our excuse for giving
+divided attention to what he had to say. As soon as he was gone we had
+only one thought, to get away from here to settle our difference with
+arms in our hands."
+
+"Without speaking to me about it!" interrupted Trehassof. "I never will
+pardon that."
+
+"You fight at such a time, when the general is threatened! It is as
+though you fought between yourselves in the face of the enemy. It is
+treason!" added Matrena.
+
+"Madame," said Boris, "we did not fight. Someone pointed out our fault,
+and I offered my excuses to Michael Nikolaievitch, who generously
+accepted them. Is that not so, Michael Nikolaievitch?"
+
+"And who is this that pointed out your fault?" demanded the marshal.
+
+"Natacha."
+
+"Bravo, Natacha. Come, embrace me, my daughter."
+
+The general pressed his daughter effusively to his broad chest.
+
+"And I hope you will not have further disputing," he cried, looking over
+Natacha's shoulder.
+
+"We promise you that, General," declared Boris. "Our lives belong to
+you."
+
+"You did well, my love. Let us all do as well. I have passed an
+excellent night, messieurs. Real sleep! I have had just one long sleep."
+
+"That is so," said Matrena slowly. "The general had no need of narcotic.
+He slept like a child and did not touch his potion."
+
+"And my leg is almost well."
+
+"All the same, it is singular that those grapes should have
+disappeared," insisted the marshal, following his fixed idea.
+
+"Ermolai," called Matrena.
+
+The old servant appeared.
+
+"Yesterday evening, after these gentlemen had left the house, did you
+notice a small white box on the garden table?"
+
+"No, Barinia."
+
+"And the servants? Have any of them been sick? The dvornicks? The
+schwitzar? In the kitchens? No one sick? No? Go and see; then come and
+tell me."
+
+He returned, saying, "No one sick."
+
+Like the marshal, Matrena Petrovna and Feodor Feodorovitch looked at one
+another, repeating in French, "No one sick! That is strange!"
+
+Rouletabille came forward and gave the only explanation that was
+plausible--for the others.
+
+"But, General, that is not strange at all. The grapes have been stolen
+and eaten by some domestic, and if the servant has not been sick it is
+simply that the grapes monsieur le marechal brought escaped the spraying
+of the Bordeaux mixture. That is the whole mystery."
+
+"The little fellow must be right," cried the delighted marshal.
+
+"He is always right, this little fellow," beamed Matrena, as proudly as
+though she had brought him into the world.
+
+But "the little fellow," taking advantage of the greetings as Athanase
+Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch arrived, left the villa, gripping in his
+pocket the phial which held what is required to make grapes flourish
+or to kill a general who is in excellent health. When he had gone a few
+hundred steps toward the bridges one must cross to go into the city, he
+was overtaken by a panting dvornick, who brought him a letter that had
+just come by courier. The writing on the envelope was entirely unknown
+to him. He tore it open and read, in excellent French:
+
+"Request to M. Joseph Rouletabille not to mix in matters that do not
+concern him. The second warning will be the last." It was signed: "The
+Central Revolutionary Committee."
+
+"So, ho!" said Rouletabille, slipping the paper into his pocket, "that's
+the line it takes, is it! Happily I have nothing more to occupy myself
+with at all. It is Koupriane's turn now! Now to go to Koupriane's!"
+
+On this date, Rouletabille's note-book: "Natacha to her father: 'But
+you, papa, have you had a good night? Did you take your narcotic?'
+
+"Fearful, and (lest I confuse heaven and hell) I have no right to
+take any further notes."*
+
+     * As a matter of fact, after this day no more notes are
+     found in Rouletabille's memorandum-book. The last one is
+     that above, bizarre and romantic, and necessary, as
+     Sainclair, the Paris advocate and friend of Rouletabille,
+     indicates opposite it in the papers from which we have taken
+     all the details of this story.
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII. THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+
+Rouletabille took a long walk which led him to the Troitsky Bridge,
+then, re-descending the Naberjnaia, he reached the Winter Palace.
+He seemed to have chased away all preoccupation, and took a child's
+pleasure in the different aspects of the life that characterizes the
+city of the Great Peter. He stopped before the Winter Palace, walked
+slowly across the square where the prodigious monolith of the Alexander
+Column rises from its bronze socket, strolled between the palace and the
+colonnades, passed under an immense arch: everything seemed Cyclopean to
+him, and he never had felt so tiny, so insignificant. None the less he
+was happy in his insignificance, he was satisfied with himself in the
+presence of these colossal things; everything pleased him this morning.
+The speed of the isvos, the bickering humor of the osvotchicks, the
+elegance of the women, the fine presences of the officers and their easy
+naturalness under their uniforms, so opposed to the wooden posturing of
+the Berlin military men whom he had noticed at the "Tilleuls" and in
+the Friederichstrasse between two trains. Everything enchanted him--the
+costume even of the moujiks, vivid blouses, the red shirts over
+the trousers, the full legs and the boots up to the knees, even the
+unfortunates who, in spite of the soft atmosphere, were muffled up in
+sheepskin coats, all impressed him favorably, everything appeared to him
+original and congenial.
+
+Order reigned in the city. The guards were polite, decorative and
+superb in bearing. The passers-by in that quarter talked gayly among
+themselves, often in French, and had manners as civilized as anywhere
+in the world. Where, then, was the Bear of the North? He never had seen
+bears so well licked. Was it this very city that only yesterday was in
+revolution? This was certainly the Alexander Park where troops a few
+weeks before had fired on children who had sought refuge in the trees,
+like sparrows. Was this the very pavement where the Cossacks had left
+so many bodies? Finally he saw before him the Nevsky Prospect, where
+the bullets rained like hail not long since upon a people dressed for
+festivities and very joyous. Nichevo! Nichevo! All that was so
+soon forgotten. They forgot yesterday as they forget to-morrow. The
+Nihilists? Poets, who imagined that a bomb could accomplish anything
+in that Babylon of the North more important than the noise of its
+explosion! Look at these people who pass. They have no more thought
+for the old attack than for those now preparing in the shadow of the
+"tracktirs." Happy men, full of serenity in this bright quarter, who
+move about their affairs and their pleasures in the purest air, the
+lightest, the most transparent on earth. No, no; no one knows the joy of
+mere breathing if he has not breathed the air there, the finest in
+the north of the world, which gives food and drink of beautiful white
+eau-de-vie and yellow pivo, and strikes the blood and makes one a beast
+vigorous and joyful and fatalistic, and mocks at the Nihilists and,
+as well, at the ten thousand eyes of the police staring from under the
+porches of houses, from under the skulls of dvornicks--all police, the
+dvornicks; all police, also the joyous concierges with extended hands.
+Ah, ah, one mocks at it all in such air, provided one has roubles
+in one's pockets, plenty of roubles, and that one is not besotted by
+reading those extraordinary books that preach the happiness of all
+humanity to students and to poor girl-students too. Ah, ah, seed of the
+Nihilists, all that! These poor little fellows and poor little girls who
+have their heads turned by lectures that they cannot digest! That is
+all the trouble, the digestion. The digestion is needed. Messieurs the
+commercial travelers for champagne, who talk together importantly in
+the lobbies of the Grand Morskaia Hotel and who have studied the Russian
+people even in the most distant cities where champagne is sold, will
+tell you that over any table of hors-d'oeuvres, and will regulate the
+whole question of the Revolution between two little glasses of vodka,
+swallowed properly, quickly, elbow up, at a single draught, in the
+Russian manner. Simply an affair of digestion, they tell you. Who is the
+fool that would dare compare a young gentleman who has well digested
+a bottle of champagne or two, and another young man who has poorly
+digested the lucubrations of, who shall we say?--the lucubrations of the
+economists? The economists? The economists! Fools who compete which
+can make the most violent statements! Those who read them and don't
+understand them go off like a bomb! Your health! Nichevo! The world goes
+round still, doesn't it?
+
+Discussion political, economic, revolutionary, and other in the room
+where they munch hors-d'oeuvres! You will hear it all as you pass
+through the hotel to your chamber, young Rouletabille. Get quickly
+now to the home of Koupriane, if you don't wish to arrive there at
+luncheon-time; then you would have to put off these serious affairs
+until evening.
+
+The Department of Police. Massive entrance, heavily guarded, a great
+lobby, halls with swinging doors, many obsequious schwitzars on the
+lookout for tips, many poor creatures sitting against the walls on dirty
+benches, desks and clerks, brilliant boots and epaulets of gay young
+officers who are telling tales of the Aquarium with great relish.
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille! Ah, yes. Please be seated. Delighted, M.
+Koupriane will be very happy to receive you, but just at this moment he
+is at inspection. Yes, the inspection of the police dormitories in
+the barracks. We will take you there. His own idea! He doesn't neglect
+anything, does he? A great Chief. Have you seen the police-guards'
+dormitory? Admirable! The first dormitories of the world. We say that
+without wishing to offend France. We love France. A great nation! I will
+take you immediately to M. Koupriane. I shall be delighted."
+
+"I also," said Rouletabille, who put a rouble into the honorable
+functionary's hand.
+
+"Permit me to precede you."
+
+Bows and salutes. For two roubles he would have walked obsequiously
+before him to the end of the world.
+
+"These functionaries are admirable," thought Rouletabille as he was led
+to the barracks. He felt he had not paid too much for the services of a
+personage whose uniform was completely covered with lace. They tramped,
+they climbed, they descended. Stairways, corridors. Ah, the barracks at
+last. He seemed to have entered a convent. Beds very white, very narrow,
+and images of the Virgin and saints everywhere, monastic neatness and
+the most absolute silence. Suddenly an order sounded in the corridor
+outside, and the police-guard, who sprang from no one could tell where,
+stood to attention at the head of their beds. Koupriane and his aide
+appeared. Koupriane looked at everything closely, spoke to each man in
+turn, called them by their names, inquired about their needs, and
+the men stammered replies, not knowing what to answer, reddening like
+children. Koupriane observed Rouletabille. He dismissed his aide with
+a gesture. The inspection was over. He drew the young man into a little
+room just off the dormitory. Rouletabille, frightened, looked about him.
+He found himself in a chapel. This little chapel completed the effect of
+the guards' dormitory. It was all gilded, decorated in marvelous colors,
+thronged with little ikons that bring happiness, and, naturally, with
+the portrait of the Tsar, the dear Little Father.
+
+"You see," said Koupriane, smiling at Rouletabille's amazement, "we deny
+them nothing. We give them their saints right here in their quarters."
+Closing the door, he drew a chair toward Rouletabille and motioned him
+to sit down. They sat before the little altar loaded with flowers, with
+colored paper and winged saints.
+
+"We can talk here without being disturbed," he said. "Yonder there is
+such a crowd of people waiting for me. I'm ready to listen."
+
+"Monsieur," said Rouletabille, "I have come to give you the report of my
+mission here, and to terminate my connection with it. All that is left
+for clearing this obscure affair is to arrest the guilty person, with
+which I have nothing to do. That concerns you. I simply inform you that
+someone tried to poison the general last night by pouring arsenate of
+soda into his sleeping-potion, which I bring you in this phial, arsenate
+which was secured most probably by washing it from grapes brought to
+General Trebassof by the marshal of the court, and which disappeared
+without anyone being able to say how."
+
+"Ah, ah, a family affair, a plot within the family. I told you so,"
+murmured Koupriane.
+
+"The affair at least has happened within the family, as you think,
+although the assassin came from outside. Contrary to what you may be
+able to believe, he does not live in the house."
+
+"Then how does he get there?" demanded Koupriane.
+
+"By the window of the room overlooking the Neva. He has often come that
+way. And that is the way he returns also, I am sure. It is there you can
+take him if you act with prudence."
+
+"How do you know he often comes that way?"
+
+"You know the height of the window above the little roadway. To reach it
+he uses a water-trough, whose iron rings are bent, and also the marks of
+a grappling-iron that he carries with him and uses to hoist himself to
+the window are distinctly visible on the ironwork of the little balcony
+outside. The marks are quite obviously of different dates."
+
+"But that window is closed."
+
+"Someone opens it for him."
+
+"Who, if you please?"
+
+"I have no desire to know."
+
+"Eh, yes. It necessarily is Natacha. I was sure that the Villa des Iles
+had its viper. I tell you she doesn't dare leave her nest because she
+knows she is watched. Not one of her movements outside escapes us! She
+knows it. She has been warned. The last time she ventured outside alone
+was to go into the old quarters of Derewnia. What has she to do in such
+a rotten quarter? I ask you that. And she turned in her tracks without
+seeing anyone, without knocking at a single door, because she saw that
+she was followed. She isn't able to get to see them outside, therefore
+she has to see them inside."
+
+"They are only one, and always the same one."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"An examination of the marks on the wall and on the pipe doesn't leave
+any doubt of it, and it is always the same grappling-iron that is used
+for the window."
+
+"The viper!"
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, Mademoiselle Natacha seems to preoccupy you
+exceedingly. I did not come here to talk about Mademoiselle Natacha. I
+came to point out to you the route used by the man who comes to do the
+murder."
+
+"Eh, yes, it is she who opens the way."
+
+"I can't deny that."
+
+"The little demon! Why does she take him into her room at night? Do you
+think perhaps there is some love-affair...?"
+
+"I am sure of quite the opposite."
+
+"I too. Natacha is not a wanton. Natacha has no heart. She has only a
+brain. And it doesn't take long for a brain touched by Nihilism to get
+so it won't hesitate at anything."
+
+Koupriane reflected a minute, while Rouletabille watched him in silence.
+
+"Have we solely to do with Nihilism?" resumed Koupriane. "Everything you
+tell me inclines me more and more to my idea: a family affair, purely in
+the family. You know, don't you, that upon the general's death Natacha
+will be immensely rich?"
+
+"Yes, I know it," replied Rouletabille, in a voice that sounded singular
+to the ear of the Chief of Police and which made him raise his head.
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+"I? Nothing," replied the reporter, this time in a firmer tone. "I
+ought, however, to say this to you: I am sure that we are dealing with
+Nihilism..."
+
+"What makes you believe it?"
+
+"This."
+
+And Rouletabille handed Koupriane the message he had received that same
+morning.
+
+"Oh, oh," cried Koupriane. "You are under watch! Look out."
+
+"I have nothing to fear; I'm not bothering myself about anything
+further. Yes, we have an affair of the revolutionaries, but not of the
+usual kind. The way they are going about it isn't like one of their
+young men that the Central Committee arms with a bomb and who is
+sacrificed in advance."
+
+"Where are the tracks that you have traced?"
+
+"Right up to the little Krestowsky Villa."
+
+Koupriane bounded from his chair.
+
+"Occupied by Boris. Parbleu! Now we have them. I see it all now. Boris,
+another cracked brain! And he is engaged. If he plays the part of the
+Revolutionaries, the affair would work out big for him."
+
+"That villa," said Rouletabille quietly, "is also occupied by Michael
+Korosakoff."
+
+"He is the most loyal, the most reliable soldier of the Tsar."
+
+"No one is ever sure of anything, my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+"Oh, I am sure of a man like that."
+
+"No man is ever sure of any man, my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+"I am, in every case, for those I employ."
+
+"You are wrong."
+
+"What do you say?"
+
+"Something that can serve you in the enterprise you are going to
+undertake, because I trust you can catch the murderer right in his nest.
+To do that, I'll not conceal from you that I think your agents will have
+to be enormously clever. They will have to watch the datcha des Iles at
+night, without anyone possibly suspecting it. No more maroon coats with
+false astrakhan trimmings, eh? But Apaches, Apaches on the wartrail, who
+blend themselves with the ground, with the trees, with the stones in the
+roadway. But among those Apaches don't send that agent of your Secret
+Service who watched the window while the assassin climbed to it."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Why, these climbs that you can read the proofs of on the wall and on
+the iron forgings of the balcony went on while your agents, night and
+day, were watching the villa. Have you noticed, monsieur, that it was
+always the same agent who took the post at night, behind the villa,
+under the window? General Trebassof's book in which he kept a statement
+of the exact disposal of each of your men during the period of siege was
+most instructive on that point. The other posts changed in turn, but the
+same agent, when he was among the guard, demanded always that same post,
+which was not disputed by anybody, since it is no fun to pass the hours
+of the night behind a wall, in an empty field. The others much preferred
+to roll away the time watching in the villa or in front of the lodge,
+where vodka and Crimean wine, kwass and pivo, kirsch and tchi, never ran
+short. That agent's name is Touman."
+
+"Touman! Impossible! He is one of the best agents from Kiew. He was
+recommended by Gounsovski."
+
+Rouletabille chuckled.
+
+"Yes, yes, yes," grumbled the Chief of Police. "Someone always laughs
+when his name is mentioned."
+
+Koupriane had turned red. He rose, opened the door, gave a long
+direction in Russian, and returned to his chair.
+
+"Now," said he, "go ahead and tell me all the details of the poison and
+the grapes the marshal of the court brought. I'm listening."
+
+Rouletabille told him very briefly and without drawing any deductions
+all that we already know. He ended his account as a man dressed in a
+maroon coat with false astrakhan was introduced. It was the same man
+Rouletabille had met in General Trebassof's drawing-room and who
+spoke French. Two gendarmes were behind him. The door had been closed.
+Koupriane turned toward the man in the coat.
+
+"Touman," he said, "I want to talk to you. You are a traitor, and I have
+proof. You can confess to me, and I will give you a thousand roubles and
+you can take yourself off to be hanged somewhere else."
+
+The man's eyes shrank, but he recovered himself quickly. He replied in
+Russian.
+
+"Speak French. I order it," commanded Koupriane.
+
+"I answer, Your Excellency," said Touman firmly, "that I don't know what
+Your Excellency means."
+
+"I mean that you have helped a man get into the Trebassof villa by night
+when you were on guard under the window of the little sitting-room.
+You see that there is no use deceiving us any longer. I play with you
+frankly, good play, good money. The name of that man, and you have a
+thousand roubles."
+
+"I am ready to swear on the ikon of..."
+
+"Don't perjure yourself."
+
+"I have always loyally served..."
+
+"The name of that man."
+
+"I still don't know yet what Your Excellency means."
+
+"Oh, you understand me," replied Koupriane, who visibly held in an anger
+that threatened to break forth any moment. "A man got into the house
+while you were watching..."
+
+"I never saw anything. After all, it is possible. There were some very
+dark nights. I went back and forth."
+
+"You are not a fool. The name of that man."
+
+"I assure you, Excellency..."
+
+"Strip him."
+
+"What are you going to do?" cried Rouletabille.
+
+But already the two guards had thrown themselves on Touman and had drawn
+off his coat and shirt. The man was bare to the waist.
+
+"What are you going to do? What are you going to do?"
+
+"Leave them alone," said Koupriane, roughly pushing Rouletabille back.
+
+Seizing a whip which hung at the waist of the guards he struck Touman a
+blow across the shoulders that drew blood. Touman, mad with the outrage
+and the pain, shouted, "Yes, it is true! I brag of it!"
+
+Koupriane did not restrain his rage. He showered the unhappy man with
+blows, having thrown Rouletabille to the end of the room when he tried
+to interfere. And while he proceeded with the punishment the Chief of
+Police hurled at the agent who had betrayed him an accompaniment of
+fearful threats, promising him that before he was hanged he should rot
+in the bottom-most dungeon of Peter and Paul, in the slimy pits lying
+under the Neva. Touman, between the two guards who held him, and who
+sometimes received blows on the rebound that were not intended for them,
+never uttered a complaint. Outside the invectives of Koupriane there
+was heard only the swish of the cords and the cries of Rouletabille,
+who continued to protest that it was abominable, and called the Chief
+of Police a savage. Finally the savage stopped. Gouts of blood had
+spattered all about.
+
+"Monsieur," said Rouletabille, who supported himself against the wall.
+"I shall complain to the Tsar."
+
+"You are right," Koupriane replied, "but I feel relieved now. You can't
+imagine the harm this man can have done to us in the weeks he has been
+here."
+
+Touman, across whose shoulders they had thrown his coat and who lay now
+across a chair, found strength to look up and say:
+
+"It is true. You can't do me as much harm as I have done you, whether
+you think so or not. All the harm that can be done me by you and yours
+is already accomplished. My name is not Touman, but Matiev. Listen. I
+had a son that was the light of my eyes. Neither my son nor I had ever
+been concerned with politics. I was employed in Moscow. My son was a
+student. During the Red Week we went out, my son and I, to see a little
+of what was happening over in the Presnia quarter. They said everybody
+had been killed over there! We passed before the Presnia gate. Soldiers
+called to us to stop because they wished to search us. We opened our
+coats. The soldiers saw my son's student waistcoat and set up a cry.
+They unbuttoned the vest, drew a note-book out of his pocket and they
+found a workman's song in it that had been published in the Signal.
+The soldiers didn't know how to read. They believed the paper was a
+proclamation, and they arrested my son. I demanded to be arrested with
+him. They pushed me away. I ran to the governor's house. Trebassof
+had me thrust away from his door with blows from the butt-ends of his
+Cossacks' guns. And, as I persisted, they kept me locked up all that
+night and the morning of the next day. At noon I was set free. I
+demanded my son and they replied they didn't know what I was talking
+about. But a soldier that I recognized as having arrested my son the
+evening before pointed out a van that was passing, covered with a
+tarpaulin and surrounded by Cossacks. 'Your son is there,' he said;
+'they are taking him to the graves.' Mad with despair, I ran after the
+van. It went to the outskirts of Golountrine cemetery. There I saw
+in the white snow a huge grave, wide, deep. I shall see it to my last
+minute. Two vans had already stopped near the hole. Each van held
+thirteen corpses. The vans were dumped into the trench and the soldiers
+commenced to sort the bodies into rows of six. I watched for my son.
+At last I recognized him in a body that half hung over the edge of the
+trench. Horrors of suffering were stamped in the expression of his face.
+I threw myself beside him. I said that I was his father. They let me
+embrace him a last time and count his wounds. He had fourteen. Someone
+had stolen the gold chain that had hung about his neck and held the
+picture of his mother, who died the year before. I whispered into his
+ear, I swore to avenge him. Forty-eight hours later I had placed myself
+at the disposition of the Revolutionary Committee. A week had not passed
+before Touman, whom, it seems, I resemble and who was one of the Secret
+Service agents in Kiew, was assassinated in the train that was taking
+him to St. Petersburg. The assassination was kept a secret. I received
+all his papers and I took his place with you. I was doomed beforehand
+and I asked nothing better, so long as I might last until after the
+execution of Trebassof. Ah, how I longed to kill him with my own hands!
+But another had already been assigned the duty and my role was to help
+him. And do you suppose I am going to tell you the name of that other?
+Never! And if you discover that other, as you have discovered me,
+another will come, and another, and another, until Trebassof has paid
+for his crimes. That is all I have to say to you, Koupriane. As for you,
+my little fellow," added he, turning to Rouletabille, "I wouldn't
+give much for your bones. Neither of you will last long. That is my
+consolation."
+
+Koupriane had not interrupted the man. He looked at him in silence,
+sadly.
+
+"You know, my poor man, you will be hanged now?" he said.
+
+"No," growled Rouletabille. "Monsieur Koupriane, I'll bet you my purse
+that he will not be hanged."
+
+"And why not?" demanded the Chief of rolice, while, upon a sign from
+him, they took away the false Touman.
+
+"Because it is I who denounced him."
+
+"What a reason! And what would you like me to do?"
+
+"Guard him for me; for me alone, do you understand?"
+
+"In exchange for what?"
+
+"In exchange for the life of General Trebassof, if I must put it that
+way."
+
+"Eh? The life of General Trebassof! You speak as if it belonged to you,
+as if you could dispose of it."
+
+Rouletabille laid his hand on Koupriane's arm.
+
+"Perhaps that's so," said he.
+
+"Would you like me to tell you one thing, Monsieur Rouletabille? It is
+that General Trebassof's life, after what has just escaped the lips of
+this Touman, who is not Touman, isn't worth any more than--than yours if
+you remain here. Since you are disposed not to do anything more in this
+affair, take the train, monsieur, take the train, and go."
+
+Rouletabille walked back and forth, very much worked up; then suddenly
+he stopped short.
+
+"Impossible," he said. "It is impossible. I cannot; I am not able to go
+yet."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Good God, Monsieur Koupriane, because I have to interview the President
+of the Duma yet, and complete my little inquiry into the politics of the
+cadets."
+
+"Oh, indeed!"
+
+Koupriane looked at him with a sour grin.
+
+"What are you going to do with that man?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Have him fixed up first."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then take him before the judges."
+
+"That is to say, to the gallows?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, I offer it to you again. Life for life. Give me the
+life of that poor devil and I promise you General Trebassof's."
+
+"Explain yourself."
+
+"Not at all. Do you promise me that you will maintain silence about the
+case of that man and that you will not touch a hair of his head?"
+
+Koupriane looked at Rouletabille as he had looked at him during the
+altercation they had on the edge of the Gulf. He decided the same way
+this time.
+
+"Very well," said he. "You have my word. The poor devil!"
+
+"You are a brave man, Monsieur Koupriane, but a little quick with the
+whip..."
+
+"What would you expect? One's work teaches that."
+
+"Good morning. No, don't trouble to show me out. I am compromised enough
+already," said Rouletabille, laughing.
+
+"Au revoir, and good luck! Get to work interviewing the President of the
+Duma," added Koupriane knowingly, with a great laugh.
+
+But Rouletabille was already gone.
+
+"That lad," said the Chief of Police aloud to himself, "hasn't told me a
+bit of what he knows."
+
+
+
+
+
+IX. ANNOUCHKA
+
+"And now it's between us two, Natacha," murmured Rouletabille as soon
+as he was outside. He hailed the first carriage that passed and gave the
+address of the datcha des Iles. When he got in he held his head between
+his hands; his face burned, his jaws were set. But by a prodigious
+effort of his will he resumed almost instantly his calm, his
+self-control. As he went back across the Neva, across the bridge where
+he had felt so elated a little while before, and saw the isles again he
+sighed heavily. "I thought I had got it all over with, so far as I was
+concerned, and now I don't know where it will stop." His eyes grew dark
+for a moment with somber thoughts and the vision of the Lady in Black
+rose before him; then he shook his head, filled his pipe, lighted it,
+dried a tear that had been caused doubtless by a little smoke in his
+eye, and stopped sentimentalizing. A quarter of an hour later he gave
+a true Russian nobleman's fist-blow in the back to the coachman as an
+intimation that they had reached the Trebassof villa. A charming picture
+was before him. They were all lunching gayly in the garden, around the
+table in the summer-house. He was astonished, however, at not seeing
+Natacha with them. Boris Mourazoff and Michael Korsakoff were there.
+Rouletabille did not wish to be seen. He made a sign to Ermolai, who was
+passing through the garden and who hurried to meet him at the gate.
+
+"The Barinia," said the reporter, in a low voice and with his finger to
+his lips to warn the faithful attendant to caution.
+
+In two minutes Matrena Petrovna joined Rouletabille in the lodge.
+
+"Well, where is Natacha?" he demanded hurriedly as she kissed his hands
+quite as though she had made an idol of him.
+
+"She has gone away. Yes, out. Oh, I did not keep her. I did not try
+to hold her back. Her expression frightened me, you can understand, my
+little angel. My, you are impatient! What is it about? How do we stand?
+What have you decided? I am your slave. Command me. Command me. The keys
+of the villa?"
+
+"Yes, give me a key to the veranda; you must have several. I must be
+able to get into the house to-night if it becomes necessary."
+
+She drew a key from her gown, gave it to the young man and said a few
+words in Russian to Ermolai, to enforce upon him that he must obey the
+little domovoi-doukh in anything, day or night.
+
+"Now tell me where Natacha has gone."
+
+"Boris's parents came to see us a little while ago, to inquire after
+the general. They have taken Natacha away with them, as they often have
+done. Natacha went with them readily enough. Little domovoi, listen to
+me, listen to Matrena Petrovna--Anyone would have said she was expecting
+it!"
+
+"Then she has gone to lunch at their house?"
+
+"Doubtless, unless they have gone to a cafe. I don't know. Boris's
+father likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine.
+Calm yourself, little domovoi. What ails you? Bad news, eh? Any bad
+news?"
+
+"No, no; everything is all right. Quick, the address of Boris's family."
+
+"The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la Poste."
+
+"Good. Thank you. Adieu."
+
+He started for the Place St. Isaac, and picked up an interpreter at the
+Grand Morskaia Hotel on the way. It might be useful to have him. At the
+Place St. Isaac he learned the Morazoffs and Natacha Trebassof had
+gone by train for luncheon at Bergalowe, one of the nearby stations in
+Finland.
+
+"That is all," said he, and added apart to himself, "And perhaps that is
+not true."
+
+He paid the coachman and the interpreter, and lunched at the Brasserie
+de Vienne nearby. He left there a half-hour later, much calmer. He
+took his way to the Grand Morskaia Hotel, went inside and asked the
+schwitzar:
+
+"Can you give me the address of Mademoiselle Annouchka?"
+
+"The singer of the Krestowsky?"
+
+"That is who I mean."
+
+"She had luncheon here. She has just gone away with the prince."
+
+Without any curiosity as to which prince, Rouletabille cursed his luck
+and again asked for her address.
+
+"Why, she lives in an apartment just across the way."
+
+Rouletabille, feeling better, crossed the street, followed by the
+interpreter that he had engaged. Across the way he learned on the
+landing of the first floor that Mademoiselle Annouchka was away for the
+day. He descended, still followed by his interpreter, and recalling
+how someone had told him that in Russia it was always profitable to be
+generous, he gave five roubles to the interpreter and asked him for some
+information about Mademoiselle Annouchka's life in St. Petersburg. The
+interpreter whispered:
+
+"She arrived a week ago, but has not spent a single night in her
+apartment over there."
+
+He pointed to the house they had just left, and added:
+
+"Merely her address for the police."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, "I understand. She sings this evening,
+doesn't she?"
+
+"Monsieur, it will be a wonderful debut."
+
+"Yes, yes, I know. Thanks."
+
+All these frustrations in the things he had undertaken that day instead
+of disheartening him plunged him deep into hard thinking. He returned,
+his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, to the Place St. Isaac,
+walked around the church, keeping an eye on the house at the corner,
+investigated the monument, went inside, examined all its details, came
+out marveling, and finally went once again to the residence of the
+Mourazoffs, was told that they had not yet returned from the Finland
+town, then went and shut himself in his room at the hotel, where he
+smoked a dozen pipes of tobacco. He emerged from his cloud of smoke at
+dinner-time.
+
+At ten that evening he stepped out of his carriage before the
+Krestowsky. The establishment of Krestowsky, which looms among the Isles
+much as the Aquarium does, is neither a theater, nor a music-hall, nor a
+cafe-concert, nor a restaurant, nor a public garden; it is all of these
+and some other things besides. Summer theater, winter theater, open-air
+theater, hall for spectacles, scenic mountain, exercise-ground,
+diversions of all sorts, garden promenades, cafes, restaurants, private
+dining-rooms, everything is combined here that can amuse, charm, lead
+to the wildest orgies, or provide those who never think of sleep till
+toward three or four o'clock of a morning the means to await the dawn
+with patience. The most celebrated companies of the old and the new
+world play there amid an enthusiasm that is steadily maintained by the
+foresight of the managers: Russian and foreign dancers, and above all
+the French chanteuses, the little dolls of the cafes-concerts, so long
+as they are young, bright, and elegantly dressed, may meet their fortune
+there. If there is no such luck, they are sure at least to find every
+evening some old beau, and often some officer, who willingly pays
+twenty-five roubles for the sole pleasure of having a demoiselle born
+on the banks of the Seine for his companion at the supper-table. After
+their turn at the singing, these women display their graces and their
+eager smiles in the promenades of the garden or among the tables where
+the champagne-drinkers sit. The head-liners, naturally, are not driven
+to this wearying perambulation, but can go away to their rest if they
+are so inclined. However, the management is appreciative if they accept
+the invitation of some dignitary of the army, of administration, or of
+finance, who seeks the honor of hearing from the chanteuse, in a private
+room and with a company of friends not disposed to melancholy, the
+Bohemian songs of the Vieux Derevnia. They sing, they loll, they talk
+of Paris, and above all they drink. If sometimes the little fete ends
+rather roughly, it is the friendly and affectionate champagne that is to
+blame, but usually the orgies remain quite innocent, of a character that
+certainly might trouble the temperance societies but need not make M. le
+Senateur Berenger feel involved.
+
+A war whose powder fumes reeked still, a revolution whose last defeated
+growls had not died away at the period of these events, had not at all
+diminished the nightly gayeties of Kretowsky. Many of the young men who
+displayed their uniforms that evening and called their "Nichevo" along
+the brilliantly lighted paths of the public gardens, or filled the
+open-air tables, or drank vodka at the buffets, or admired the figures
+of the wandering soubrettes, had come here on the eve of their departure
+for the war and had returned with the same child-like, enchanted smile,
+the same ideal of futile joy, and kissed their passing comrades as gayly
+as ever. Some of them had a sleeve lying limp now, or walked with a
+crutch, or even on a wooden leg, but it was, all the same, "Nichevo!"
+
+The crowd this evening was denser than ordinarily, because there was the
+chance to hear Annouchka again for the first time since the somber days
+of Moscow. The students were ready to give her an ovation, and no one
+opposed it, because, after all, if she sang now it was because the
+police were willing at last. If the Tsar's government had granted her
+her life, it was not in order to compel her to die of hunger. Each
+earned a livelihood as was possible. Annouchka only knew how to sing and
+dance, and so she must sing and dance!
+
+When Rouletabille entered the Krestowsky Gardens, Annouchka had
+commenced her number, which ended with a tremendous "Roussalka."
+Surrounded by a chorus of male and female dancers in the national
+dress and with red boots, striking tambourines with their fingers, then
+suddenly taking a rigid pose to let the young woman's voice, which
+was of rather ordinary register, come out, Annouchka had centered the
+attention of the immense audience upon herself. All the other parts
+of the establishment were deserted, the tables had been removed, and a
+panting crowd pressed about the open-air theater. Rouletabille stood up
+on his chair at the moment tumultuous "Bravos" sounded from a group of
+students. Annouchka bowed toward them, seeming to ignore the rest of
+the audience, which had not dared declare itself yet. She sang the old
+peasant songs arranged to present-day taste, and interspersed them with
+dances. They had an enormous success, because she gave her whole soul
+to them and sang with her voice sometimes caressing, sometimes menacing,
+and sometimes magnificently desperate, giving much significance to words
+which on paper had not aroused the suspicions of the censor. The
+taste of the day was obviously still a taste for the revolution, which
+retained its influence on the banks of the Neva. What she was doing was
+certainly very bold, and apparently she realized how audacious she was,
+because, with great adroitness, she would bring out immediately after
+some dangerous phrase a patriotic couplet which everybody was anxious to
+applaud. She succeeded by such means in appealing to all the divergent
+groups of her audience and secured a complete triumph for herself. The
+students, the revolutionaries, the radicals and the cadets acclaimed the
+singer, glorifying not only her art but also and beyond everything else
+the sister of the engineer Volkousky, who had been doomed to perish with
+her brother by the bullets of the Semenovsky regiment. The friends of
+the Court on their side could not forget that it was she who, in front
+of the Kremlin, had struck aside the arm of Constantin Kochkarof,
+ordered by the Central Revolutionary Committee to assassinate the Grand
+Duke Peter Alexandrovitch as he drove up to the governor's house in
+his sleigh. The bomb burst ten feet away, killing Constantin Kochkarof
+himself. It may be that before death came he had time to hear
+Annouchka cry to him, "Wretch! You were told to kill the prince, not to
+assassinate his children." As it happened, Peter Alexandrovitch held
+on his knees the two little princesses, seven and eight years old. The
+Court had wished to recompense her for that heroic act. Annouchka had
+spit at the envoy of the Chief of Police who called to speak to her
+of money. At the Hermitage in Moscow, where she sang then, some of
+her admirers had warned her of possible reprisals on the part of the
+revolutionaries. But the revolutionaries gave her assurance at once that
+she had nothing to fear. They approved her act and let her know that
+they now counted on her to kill the Grand Duke some time when he was
+alone; which had made Annouchka laugh. She was an enfant terrible,
+whose friends no one knew, who passed for very wise, and whose lines of
+intrigue were inscrutable. She enjoyed making her hosts in the private
+supper-rooms quake over their meal. One day she had said bluntly to one
+of the most powerful tchinovnicks of Moscow: "You, my old friend, you
+are president of the Black Hundred. Your fate is sealed. Yesterday you
+were condemned to death by the delegates of the Central Committee at
+Presnia. Say your prayers." The man reached for champagne. He never
+finished his glass. The dvornicks carried him out stricken with
+apoplexy. Since the time she saved the little grand-duchesses the police
+had orders to allow her to act and talk as she pleased. She had been
+mixed up in the deepest plots against the government. Those who lent
+the slightest countenance to such plottings and were not of the police
+simply disappeared. Their friends dared not even ask for news of them.
+The only thing not in doubt about them was that they were at hard labor
+somewhere in the mines of the Ural Mountains. At the moment of
+the revolution Annouchka had a brother who was an engineer on the
+Kasan-Moscow line. This Volkousky was one of the leaders on the Strike
+Committee. The authorities had an eye on him. The revolution started.
+He, with the help of his sister, accomplished one of those formidable
+acts which will carry their memory as heroes to the farthest posterity.
+Their work accomplished, they were taken by Trebassof's soldiers. Both
+were condemned to death. Volkousky was executed first, and the sister
+was taking her turn when an officer of the government arrived on
+horseback to stop the firing. The Tsar, informed of her intended fate,
+had sent a pardon by telegraph. After that she disappeared. She was
+supposed to have gone on some tour across Europe, as was her habit,
+for she spoke all the languages, like a true Bohemian. Now she had
+reappeared in all her joyous glory at Krestowsky. It was certain,
+however, that she had not forgotten her brother. Gossips said that if
+the government and the police showed themselves so long-enduring they
+found it to their interest to do so. The open, apparent life Annouchka
+led was less troublesome to them than her hidden activities would be.
+The lesser police who surrounded the Chief of the St. Petersburg Secret
+Service, the famous Gounsovski, had meaning smiles when the matter
+was discussed. Among them Annouchka had the ignoble nickname,
+"Stool-pigeon."
+
+Rouletabille must have been well aware of all these particulars
+concerning Annouchka, for he betrayed no astonishment at the great
+interest and the strong emotion she aroused. From the corner where he
+was he could see only a bit of the stage, and he was standing on tiptoes
+to see the singer when he felt his coat pulled. He turned. It was
+the jolly advocate, well known for his gastronomic feats, Athanase
+Georgevitch, along with the jolly Imperial councilor, Ivan Petrovitch,
+who motioned him to climb down.
+
+"Come with us; we have a box."
+
+Rouletabille did not need urging, and he was soon installed in the front
+of a box where he could see the stage and the public both. Just then the
+curtain fell on the first part of Annouchka's performance. The friends
+were soon rejoined by Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the great timber-merchant,
+who came from behind the scenes.
+
+"I have been to see the beautiful Onoto," announced the Lithuanian with
+a great satisfied laugh. "Tell me the news. All the girls are sulking
+over Annouchka's success."
+
+"Who dragged you into the Onoto's dressing-room then?" demanded Athanase.
+
+"Oh, Gounsovski himself, my dear. He is very amateurish, you know."
+
+"What! do you knock around with Gounsovski?"
+
+"On my word, I tell you, dear friends, he isn't a bad acquaintance. He
+did me a little service at Bakou last year. A good acquaintance in these
+times of public trouble."
+
+"You are in the oil business now, are you?"
+
+"Oh, yes, a little of everything for a livelihood. I have a little well
+down Bakou way, nothing big; and a little house, a very small one for my
+small business."
+
+"What a monopolist Thaddeus is," declared Athanase Georgevitch, hitting
+him a formidable slap on the thigh with his enormous hand. "Gounsovski
+has come himself to keep an eye on Annouchka's debut, eh? Only he goes
+into Onoto's dressing-room, the rogue."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't trouble himself. Do you know who he is to have supper
+with? With Annouchka, my dears, and we are invited."
+
+"How's that?" inquired the jovial councilor.
+
+"It seems Gounsovski influenced the minister to permit Annouchka's
+performance by declaring he would be responsible for it all. He required
+from Annouchka solely that she have supper with him on the evening of
+her debut."
+
+"And Annouchka consented?"
+
+"That was the condition, it seems. For that matter, they say that
+Annouchka and Gounsovski don't get along so badly together. Gounsovski
+has done Annouchka many a good turn. They say he is in love with her."
+
+"He has the air of an umbrella merchant," snorted Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+"Have you seen him at close range?" inquired Ivan.
+
+"I have dined at his house, though it is nothing to boast of, on my
+word."
+
+"That is what he said," replied Thaddeus. "When he knew we were here
+together, he said to me: 'Bring him, he is a charming fellow who plies
+a great fork; and bring that dear man Ivan Petrovitch, and all your
+friends.'"
+
+"Oh, I only dined at his house," grumbled Athanase, "because there was a
+favor he was going to do me."
+
+"He does services for everybody, that man," observed Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"Of course, of course; he ought to," retorted Athanase. "What is a chief
+of Secret Service for if not to do things for everybody? For everybody,
+my dear friends, and a little for himself besides. A chief of Secret
+Service has to be in with everybody, with everybody and his father,
+as La Fontaine says (if you know that author), if he wants to hold his
+place. You know what I mean."
+
+Athanase laughed loudly, glad of the chance to show how French he could
+be in his allusions, and looked at Rouletabille to see if he had been
+able to catch the tone of the conversation; but Rouletabille was too
+much occupied in watching a profile wrapped in a mantilla of black lace,
+in the Spanish fashion, to repay Athanase's performance with a knowing
+smile.
+
+"You certainly have naive notions. You think a chief of Secret Police
+should be an ogre," replied the advocate as he nodded here and there to
+his friends.
+
+"Why, certainly not. He needs to be a sheep in a place like that, a
+thorough sheep. Gounsovski is soft as a sheep. The time I dined with him
+he had mutton streaked with fat. He is just like that. I am sure he is
+mainly layers of fat. When you shake hands you feel as though you
+had grabbed a piece of fat. My word! And when he eats he wags his jaw
+fattishly. His head is like that, too; bald, you know, with a cranium
+like fresh lard. He speaks softly and looks at you like a kid looking to
+its mother for a juicy meal."
+
+"But--why--it is Natacha!" murmured the lips of the young man.
+
+"Certainly it is Natacha, Natacha herself," exclaimed Ivan Petrovitch,
+who had used his glasses the better to see whom the young French
+journalist was looking at. "Ah, the dear child! she has wanted to see
+Annouchka for a long time."
+
+"What, Natacha! So it is. So it is. Natacha! Natacha!" said the others.
+"And with Boris Mourazoff's parents."
+
+"But Boris is not there," sniggered Thaddeus Tehitchnikoff.
+
+"Oh, he can't be far away. If he was there we would see Michael
+Korsakoff too. They keep close on each other's heels."
+
+"How has she happened to leave the general? She said she couldn't bear
+to be away from him."
+
+"Except to see Annouchka," replied Ivan. "She wanted to see her, and
+talked so about it when I was there that even Feodor Feodorovitch was
+rather scandalized at her and Matrena Petrovna reproved her downright
+rudely. But what a girl wishes the gods bring about. That's the way."
+
+"That's so, I know," put in Athanase. "Ivan Petrovitch is right. Natacha
+hasn't been able to hold herself in since she read that Annouchka was
+going to make her debut at Krestowsky. She said she wasn't going to die
+without having seen the great artist."
+
+"Her father had almost drawn her away from that crowd," affirmed Ivan,
+"and that was as it should be. She must have fixed up this affair with
+Boris and his parents."
+
+"Yes, Feodor certainly isn't aware that his daughter's idea was to
+applaud the heroine of Kasan station. She is certainly made of stern
+stuff, my word," said Athanase.
+
+"Natacha, you must remember, is a student," said Thaddeus, shaking his
+head; "a true student. They have misfortunes like that now in so many
+families. I recall, apropos of what Ivan said just now, how today she
+asked Michael Korsakoff, before me, to let her know where Annouchka
+would sing. More yet, she said she wished to speak to that artist if it
+were possible. Michael frowned on that idea, even before me. But Michael
+couldn't refuse her, any more than the others. He can reach Annouchka
+easier than anyone else. You remember it was he who rode hard and
+arrived in time with the pardon for that beautiful witch; she ought not
+to forget him if she cared for her life."
+
+"Anyone who knows Michael Nikolaievitch knows that he did his duty
+promptly," announced Athanase Georgevitch crisply. "But he would not
+have gone a step further to save Annouchka. Even now he won't compromise
+his career by being seen at the home of a woman who is never from
+under the eyes of Gounsovski's agents and who hasn't been nicknamed
+'Stool-pigeon' for nothing."
+
+"Then why do we go to supper tonight with Annouchka?" asked Ivan.
+
+"That's not the same thing. We are invited by Gounsovski himself. Don't
+forget that, if stories concerning it drift about some day, my friends,"
+said Thaddeus.
+
+"For that matter, Thaddeus, I accept the invitation of the honorable
+chief of our admirable Secret Service because I don't wish to slight
+him. I have dined at his house already. By sitting opposite him at a
+public table here I feel that I return that politeness. What do you say
+to that?"
+
+"Since you have dined with him, tell us what kind of a man he is aside
+from his fattish qualities," said the curious councilor. "So many things
+are said about him. He certainly seems to be a man it is better to stand
+in with than to fall out with, so I accept his invitation. How could you
+manage to refuse it, anyway?"
+
+"When he first offered me hospitality," explained the advocate, "I
+didn't even know him. I never had been near him. One day a police agent
+came and invited me to dinner by command--or, at least, I understood it
+wasn't wise to refuse the invitation, as you said, Ivan Petrovitch. When
+I went to his house I thought I was entering a fortress, and inside I
+thought it must be an umbrella shop. There were umbrellas everywhere,
+and goloshes. True, it was a day of pouring rain. I was struck by there
+being no guard with a big revolver in the antechamber. He had a little,
+timid schwitzar there, who took my umbrella, murmuring 'barine' and
+bowing over and over again. He conducted me through very ordinary rooms
+quite unguarded to an average sitting-room of a common kind. We dined
+with Madame Gounsovski, who appeared fattish like her husband, and three
+or four men whom I had never seen anywhere. One servant waited on us. My
+word!
+
+"At dessert Gounsovski took me aside and told me I was unwise to 'argue
+that way.' I asked him what he meant by that. He took my hands between
+his fat hands and repeated, 'No, no, it is not wise to argue like that.'
+I couldn't draw anything else out of him. For that matter, I understood
+him, and, you know, since that day I have cut out certain side passages
+unnecessary in my general law pleadings that had been giving me a
+reputation for rather too free opinions in the papers. None of that
+at my age! Ah, the great Gounsovski! Over our coffee I asked him if he
+didn't find the country in pretty strenuous times. He replied that he
+looked forward with impatience to the month of May, when he could go for
+a rest to a little property with a small garden that he had bought at
+Asnieres, near Paris. When he spoke of their house in the country Madame
+Gounsovski heaved a sigh of longing for those simple country joys. The
+month of May brought tears to her eyes. Husband and wife looked at one
+another with real tenderness. They had not the air of thinking for one
+second: to-morrow or the day after, before our country happiness comes,
+we may find ourselves stripped of everything. No! They were sure of
+their happy vacation and nothing seemed able to disquiet them under
+their fat. Gounsovski has done everybody so many services that no one
+really wishes him ill, poor man. Besides, have you noticed, my dear old
+friends, that no one ever tries to work harm to chiefs of Secret
+Police? One goes after heads of police, prefects of police, ministers,
+grand-dukes, and even higher, but the chiefs of Secret Police are never,
+never attacked. They can promenade tranquilly in the streets or in the
+gardens of Krestowsky or breathe the pure air of the Finland country or
+even the country around Paris. They have done so many little favors for
+this one and that, here and there, that no one wishes to do them the
+least injury. Each person always thinks, too, that others have been less
+well served than he. That is the secret of the thing, my friends, that
+is the secret. What do you say?"
+
+The others said: "Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski. He knows. He knows.
+Certainly, accept his supper. With Annouchka it will be fun."
+
+"Messieurs," asked Rouletabille, who continued to make discoveries in
+the audience, "do you know that officer who is seated at the end of a
+row down there in the orchestra seats? See, he is getting up."
+
+"He? Why, that is Prince Galitch, who was one of the richest lords of
+the North Country. Now he is practically ruined."
+
+"Thanks, gentlemen; certainly it is he. I know him," said Rouletabille,
+seating himself and mastering his emotion.
+
+"They say he is a great admirer of Annouchka," hazarded Thaddeus. Then
+he walked away from the box.
+
+"The prince has been ruined by women," said Athanase Georgevitch, who
+pretended to know the entire chronicle of gallantries in the empire.
+
+"He also has been on good terms with Gounsovski," continued Thaddeus.
+
+"He passes at court, though, for an unreliable. He once made a long
+visit to Tolstoi."
+
+"Bah! Gounsovski must have rendered some signal service to that
+imprudent prince," concluded Athanase. "But for yourself, Thaddeus, you
+haven't said what you did with Gounsovski at Bakou."
+
+(Rouletabille did not lose a word of what was being said around him,
+although he never lost sight of the profile hidden in the black mantle
+nor of Prince Galitch, his personal enemy,* who reappeared, it seemed
+to him, at a very critical moment.)
+
+     * as told in "The Lady In Black."
+
+"I was returning from Balakani in a drojki," said Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, "and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen the
+debris of my oil shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when I met
+Gounsovski in the road, who, with two of his friends, found themselves
+badly off with one of the wheels of their carriage broken. I stopped.
+He explained to me that he had a Tartar coachman, and that this coachman
+having seen an Armenian on the road before him, could find nothing
+better to do than run full tilt into the Armenian's equipage. He had
+reached over and taken the reins from him, but a wheel of the carriage
+was broken." (Rouletabille quivered, because he caught a glance of
+communication between Prince Galitch and Natacha, who was leaning over
+the edge of her box.) "So I offered to take Gounsovski and his friends
+into my carriage, and we rode all together to Bakou after Gounsovski,
+who always wishes to do a service, as Athanase Georgevitch says, had
+warned his Tartar coachman not to finish the Armenian." (Prince Galitch,
+at the moment the orchestra commenced the introductory music for
+Annouchka's new number, took advantage of all eyes being turned toward
+the rising curtain to pass near Natacha's seat. This time he did not
+look at Natacha, but Rouletabille was sure that his lips had moved as he
+went by her.)
+
+Thaddeus continued: "It is necessary to explain that at Bakou my little
+house is one of the first before you reach the quay. I had some Armenian
+employees there. When arrived, what do you suppose I saw? A file of
+soldiers with cannon, yes, with a cannon, on my word, turned against my
+house and an officer saying quietly, 'there it is. Fire!'" (Rouletabille
+made yet another discovery--two, three discoveries. Near by, standing
+back of Natacha's seat, was a figure not unknown to the young reporter,
+and there, in one of the orchestra chairs, were two other men whose
+faces he had seen that same morning in Koupriane's barracks. Here was
+where a memory for faces stood him in good stead. He saw that he was not
+the only person keeping close watch on Natacha.) "When I heard what the
+officer said," Thaddeus went on, "I nearly dropped out of the drojki.
+I hurried to the police commissioner. He explained the affair promptly,
+and I was quick to understand. During my absence one of my Armenian
+employees had fired at a Tartar who was passing. For that matter, he had
+killed him. The governor was informed and had ordered the house to be
+bombarded, for an example, as had been done with several others. I found
+Gounsovski and told him the trouble in two words. He said it wasn't
+necessary for him to interfere in the affair, that I had only to talk
+to the officer. 'Give him a good present, a hundred roubles, and he will
+leave your house. I went back to the officer and took him aside; he said
+he wanted to do anything that he could for me, but that the order was
+positive to bombard the house. I reported his answer to Gounsovski, who
+told me: 'Tell him then to turn the muzzle of the cannon the other way
+and bombard the building of the chemist across the way, then he can
+always say that he mistook which house was intended.' I did that, and he
+had them turn the cannon. They bombarded the chemist's place, and I got
+out of the whole thing for the hundred roubles. Gounsovski, the good
+fellow, may be a great lump of fat and be like an umbrella merchant, but
+I have always been grateful to him from the bottom of my heart, you can
+understand, Athanase Georgevitch."
+
+"What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?" inquired Rouletabille
+all at once.
+
+"Oh, oh!" laughed the others. "Since he went so openly to visit Tolstoi
+he doesn't go to the court any more."
+
+"And--his opinions? What are his opinions?"
+
+"Oh, the opinions of everybody are so mixed nowadays, nobody knows."
+
+Ivan Petrovitch said, "He passes among some people as very advanced and
+very much compromised."
+
+"Yet they don't bother him?" inquired Rouletabille.
+
+"Pooh, pooh," replied the gay Councilor of Empire, "it is rather he who
+tries to mix with them."
+
+Thaddeus stooped down and said, "They say that he can't be reached
+because of the hold he has over a certain great personage in the court,
+and it would be a scandal--a great scandal."
+
+"Be quiet, Thaddeus," interrupted Athanase Georgevitch, roughly. "It
+is easy to see that you are lately from the provinces to speak so
+recklessly, but if you go on this way I shall leave."
+
+"Athanase Georgevitch is right; hang onto your mouth, Thaddeus,"
+counseled Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+The talkers all grew silent, for the curtain was rising. In the audience
+there were mysterious allusions being made to this second number of
+Annouchka, but no one seemed able to say what it was to be, and it was,
+as a matter of fact, very simple. After the whirl-wind of dances and
+choruses and all the splendor with which she had been accompanied the
+first time, Annouchka appeared as a poor Russian peasant in a scene
+representing the barren steppes, and very simply she sank to her knees
+and recited her evening prayers. Annouchka was singularly beautiful.
+Her aquiline nose with sensitive nostrils, the clean-cut outline of
+her eyebrows, her look that now was almost tender, now menacing, always
+unusual, her pale rounded cheeks and the entire expression of her face
+showed clearly the strength of new ideas, spontaneity, deep resolution
+and, above all, passion. The prayer was passionate. She had an admirable
+contralto voice which affected the audience strangely from its very
+first notes. She asked God for daily bread for everyone in the immense
+Russian land, daily bread for the flesh and for the spirit, and she
+stirred the tears of everyone there, to which-ever party they belonged.
+And when, as her last note sped across the desolate steppe and she rose
+and walked toward the miserable hut, frantic bravos from a delirious
+audience told her the prodigious emotions she had aroused. Little
+Rouletabille, who, not understanding the words, nevertheless caught the
+spirit of that prayer, wept. Everybody wept. Ivan Petrovitch, Athanase
+Georgevitch, Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff were standing up, stamping their
+feet and clapping their hands like enthusiastic boys. The students, who
+could be easily distinguished by the uniform green edging they wore on
+their coats, uttered insensate cries. And suddenly there rose the first
+strains of the national hymn. There was hesitation at first, a wavering.
+But not for long. Those who had been dreading some counter-demonstration
+realized that no objection could possibly be raised to a prayer for
+the Tsar. All heads uncovered and the Bodje Taara Krari mounted,
+unanimously, toward the stars.
+
+Through his tears the young reporter never gave up his close watch on
+Natacha. She had half risen, and, sinking back, leaned on the edge of
+the box. She called, time and time again, a name that Rouletabille
+could not hear in the uproar, but that he felt sure was "Annouchka!
+Annouchka!" "The reckless girl," murmured Rouletabille, and, profiting
+by the general excitement, he left the box without being noticed.
+He made his way through the crowd toward Natacha, whom he had sought
+futilely since morning. The audience, after clamoring in vain for a
+repetition of the prayer by Annouchka, commenced to disperse, and the
+reporter was swept along with them for a few moments. When he reached
+the range of boxes he saw that Natacha and the family she had been
+with were gone. He looked on all sides without seeing the object of his
+search and like a madman commenced to run through the passages, when a
+sudden idea struck his blood cold. He inquired where the exit for the
+artists was and as soon as it was pointed out, he hurried there. He
+was not mistaken. In the front line of the crowd that waited to see
+Annouchka come out he recognized Natacha, with her head enveloped in the
+black mantle so that none should see her face. Besides, this corner of
+the garden was in a half-gloom. The police barred the way; he could not
+approach as near Natacha as he wished. He set himself to slip like a
+serpent through the crowd. He was not separated from Natacha by more
+than four or five persons when a great jostling commenced. Annouchka
+was coming out. Cries rose: "Annouchka! Annouchka!" Rouletabille threw
+himself on his knees and on all-fours succeeded in sticking his head
+through into the way kept by the police for Annouchka's passage.
+There, wrapped in a great red mantle, his hat on his arm, was a man
+Rouletabille immediately recognized. It was Prince Galitch. They were
+hurrying to escape the impending pressure of the crowd. But Annouchka as
+she passed near Natacha stopped just a second--a movement that did not
+escape Rouletabille--and, turning toward her said just the one word,
+"Caracho." Then she passed on. Rouletabille got up and forced his way
+back, having once more lost Natacha. He searched for her. He ran to the
+carriage-way and arrived just in time to see her seated in a carriage
+with the Mourazoff family. The carriage started at once in the direction
+of the datcha des Iles. The young man remained standing there, thinking.
+He made a gesture as though he were ready now to let luck take its
+course. "In the end," said he, "it will be better so, perhaps," and
+then, to himself, "Now to supper, my boy."
+
+He turned in his tracks and soon was established in the glaring light
+of the restaurant. Officers standing, glass in hand, were saluting from
+table to table and waving a thousand compliments with grace that was
+almost feminine.
+
+He heard his name called joyously, and recognized the voice of Ivan
+Petrovitch. The three boon companions were seated over a bottle of
+champagne resting in its ice-bath and were being served with tiny pates
+while they waited for the supper-hour, which was now near.
+
+Rouletabille yielded to their invitation readily enough, and accompanied
+them when the head-waiter informed Thaddeus that the gentlemen were
+desired in a private room. They went to the first floor and were
+ushered into a large apartment whose balcony opened on the hall of
+the winter-theater, empty now. But the apartment was already occupied.
+Before a table covered with a shining service Gounsovski did the honors.
+
+He received them like a servant, with his head down, an obsequious
+smile, and his back bent, bowing several times as each of the guests
+were presented to him. Athanase had described him accurately enough, a
+mannikin in fat. Under the vast bent brow one could hardly see his eyes,
+behind the blue glasses that seemed always ready to fall as he inclined
+too far his fat head with its timid and yet all-powerful glance. When he
+spoke in his falsetto voice, his chin dropped in a fold over his collar,
+and he had a steady gesture with the thumb and index finger of his right
+hand to retain the glasses from sliding down his short, thick nose.
+
+Behind him there was the fine, haughty silhouette of Prince Galitch. He
+had been invited by Annouchka, for she had consented to risk this supper
+only in company with three or four of her friends, officers who could
+not be further compromised by this affair, as they were already
+under the eye of the Okrana (Secret Police) despite their high birth.
+Gounsovski had seen them come with a sinister chuckle and had lavished
+upon them his marks of devotion.
+
+He loved Annouchka. It would have sufficed to have surprised just once
+the jealous glance he sent from beneath his great blue glasses when he
+gazed at the singer to have understood the sentiments that actuated him
+in the presence of the beautiful daughter of the Black Land.
+
+Annouchka was seated, or, rather, she lounged, Oriental fashion, on the
+sofa which ran along the wall behind the table. She paid attention to
+no one. Her attitude was forbidding, even hostile. She indifferently
+allowed her marvelous black hair that fell in two tresses over her
+shoulder to be caressed by the perfumed hands of the beautiful Onoto,
+who had heard her this evening for the first time and had thrown herself
+with enthusiasm into her arms after the last number. Onoto was an artist
+too, and the pique she felt at first over Annouchka's success could not
+last after the emotion aroused by the evening prayer before the hut.
+"Come to supper," Annouchka had said to her.
+
+"With whom?" inquired the Spanish artist.
+
+"With Gounsovski."
+
+"Never."
+
+"Do come. You will help me pay my debt and perhaps he will be useful to
+you as well. He is useful to everybody."
+
+Decidedly Onoto did not understand this country, where the worst enemies
+supped together.
+
+Rouletabille had been monopolized at once by Prince Galitch, who took
+him into a corner and said:
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Do I inconvenience you?" asked the boy.
+
+The other assumed the amused smile of the great lord.
+
+"While there is still time," he said, "believe me, you ought to start,
+to quit this country. Haven't you had sufficient notice?"
+
+"Yes," replied the reporter. "And you can dispense with any further
+notice from this time on."
+
+He turned his back.
+
+"Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa," commenced
+the falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the young
+man and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch, who was
+already busy with the hors-d'oeuvres.
+
+"How do you do, monsieur?" said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.
+
+Rouletabille saluted.
+
+"I see that I am in a country of acquaintances," he said, without
+appearing disturbed.
+
+He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.
+
+"Rouletabille!" cried la belle Onoto. "Why, then, he is the little
+fellow who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room."
+
+"Himself."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"He came to save the life of General Trebassof," sniggered Gounsovski.
+"He is certainly a brave little young man."
+
+"The police know everything," said Rouletabille coldly. And he asked for
+champagne, which he never drank.
+
+The champagne commenced its work. While Thaddeus and the officers
+told each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women,
+Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille
+and gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.
+
+"You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more
+difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his enemies
+but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane. Understand me thoroughly:
+Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly. He is good,
+brave as a warrior, but I wouldn't give a kopeck for his police. He has
+mixed in our affairs lately by creating his own secret police, but
+I don't wish to meddle with that. It amuses us. It's the new style,
+anyway; everybody wants his secret police nowadays. And yourself, young
+man, what, after all, are you doing here? Reporting? No. Police work?
+That is our business and your business. I wish you good luck, but I
+don't expect it. Remember that if you need any help I will give it you
+willingly. I love to be of service. And I don't wish any harm to befall
+you."
+
+"You are very kind, monsieur," was all Rouletabille replied, and he
+called again for champagne.
+
+Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concerned
+herself with her meal and had little answer for him.
+
+"Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?"
+
+"No," said Annouchka indifferently.
+
+"The daughter of General Trebassof."
+
+"Yes, that is true, on my word," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"Yes, yes, Natacha was there," joined in the other friends from the
+datcha des Iles.
+
+"For me, I saw her weep," said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka
+fixedly.
+
+But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:
+
+"I do not know her."
+
+"She is unlucky in having a father..." Prince Galitch commenced.
+
+"Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave," clucked Gounsovski.
+"Your health, dear Annouchka."
+
+"Your health, Gounsovski. But you have no worry about that."
+
+"Why?" demanded Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff in equivocal fashion.
+
+"Because he is too useful to the government," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"No," replied Annouchka; "to the revolutionaries."
+
+All broke out laughing. Gounsovski recovered his slipping glasses by
+his usual quick movement and sniggered softly, insinuatingly, like fat
+boiling in the pot:
+
+"So they say. And it is my strength."
+
+"His system is excellent," said the prince. "As he is in with everybody,
+everybody is in with the police, without knowing it."
+
+"They say... ah, ah... they say..." (Athanase was choking over a little
+piece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) "they say that he has
+driven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the church of
+Kasan."
+
+Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans,
+street-thieves who since the recent political troubles had infested St.
+Petersburg and whom nobody, could get rid of without paying for it.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch said:
+
+"There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never have.
+One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station. The girl,
+frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with two roubles and
+fifty kopecks in it. The hooligan took it all. 'Goodness,' cried she,
+'I have nothing now to take my train with.' 'How much is it?' asked the
+hooligan. 'Sixty kopecks.' 'Sixty kopecks! Why didn't you say so?' And
+the bandit, hanging onto the two roubles, returned the fifty-kopeck
+piece to the trembling child and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his own
+pocket."
+
+"Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow,"
+said la belle Onoto. "I had just stepped out of the door when I was
+stopped by a hooligan. 'Give me twenty kopecks,' said the hooligan. I
+was so frightened that I couldn't get my purse open. 'Quicker,' said he.
+Finally I gave him twenty kopecks. 'Now,' said he then, 'kiss my hand.'
+And I had to kiss it, because he held his knife in the other."
+
+"Oh, they are quick with their knives," said Thaddeus. "As I was
+leaving Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a huge
+carving-knife under my nose. 'You can have it for a rouble and a half,'
+he said. You can believe that I bought it without any haggling. And
+it was a very good bargain. It was worth at least three roubles. Your
+health, belle Onoto."
+
+"I always take my revolver when I go out," said Athanase. "It is more
+prudent. I say this before the police. But I would rather be arrested by
+the police than stabbed by the hooligans."
+
+"There's no place any more to buy revolvers," declared Ivan Petrovitch.
+"All such places are closed."
+
+Gounsovski settled his glasses, rubbed his fat hands and said:
+
+"There are some still at my locksmith's place. The proof is that to-day
+in the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith, went into the
+house of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell him a revolver. It
+was a Browning. 'An arm of the greatest reliability,' he said to him,
+'which never misses fire and which works very easily.' Having pronounced
+these words, the locksmith tried his revolver and lodged a ball in the
+grocer's lung. The grocer is dead, but before he died he bought the
+revolver. 'You are right,' he said to the locksmith; 'it is a terrible
+weapon.' And then he died."
+
+The others laughed heartily. They thought it very funny. Decidedly this
+great Gounsovski always had a funny story. Who would not like to be
+his friend? Annouchka had deigned to smile. Gounsovski, in recognition,
+extended his hand to her like a mendicant. The young woman touched it
+with the end of her fingers, as if she were placing a twenty-kopeck
+piece in the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from it with disgust. Then
+the doors opened for the Bohemians. Their swarthy troupe soon filled the
+room. Every evening men and women in their native costumes came from old
+Derevnia, where they lived all together in a sort of ancient patriarchal
+community, with customs that had not changed for centuries; they
+scattered about in the places of pleasure, in the fashionable
+restaurants, where they gathered large sums, for it was a fashionable
+luxury to have them sing at the end of suppers, and everyone showered
+money on them in order not to be behind the others. They accompanied on
+guzlas, on castanets, on tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful and
+languorous, or excitable and breathless as the flight of the earliest
+nomads in the beginnings of the world.
+
+When they had entered, those present made place for them, and
+Rouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue and
+of a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn't in the habit
+of drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion to get a
+corner of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who occupied the place
+at Annouchka's right.
+
+"Look, Rouletabaille is asleep," remarked la belle Onoto.
+
+"Poor boy!" said Annouchka.
+
+And, turning toward Gounsovski:
+
+"Aren't you soon going to get him out of our way? I heard some of our
+brethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain to those
+who care about his health."
+
+"Oh, that," said Gounsovski, shaking his head, "is an affair I have
+nothing to do with. Apply to Koupriane. Your health, belle Annouchka."
+
+But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and the
+singers took everybody's attention, everybody excepting Prince Galitch
+and Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another, exchanged some
+words on the edge of all this musical uproar. As for Rouletabille, he
+certainly must have been sleeping soundly not to have been waked by
+all that noise, melodious as it was. It is true that he
+had--apparently--drunk a good deal and, as everyone knows, in Russia
+drink lays out those who can't stand it. When the Bohemians had sung
+three times Gounsovski made a sign that they might go to charm other
+ears, and slipped into the hands of the chief of the band a twenty-five
+rouble note. But Onoto wished to give her mite, and a regular collection
+commenced. Each one threw roubles into the plate held out by a little
+swarthy Bohemian girl with crow-black hair, carelessly combed, falling
+over her forehead, her eyes and her face, in so droll a fashion that one
+would have said the little thing was a weeping-willow soaked in ink. The
+plate reached Prince Galitch, who futilely searched his pockets.
+
+"Bah!" said he, with a lordly air, "I have no money. But here is my
+pocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me, Katharina."
+
+Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince, but
+Annouchka said:
+
+"The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficiently
+repay the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty hut
+when I was in hiding, while your famous department was deciding what to
+do about me, my dear Gounsovski."
+
+"Eh," replied Gounsovski, "I let you know that all you had to do was to
+take a fine apartment in the city."
+
+Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from yellow
+turned green.
+
+"But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?" asked Onoto as she
+caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.
+
+"You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned. I had been
+able to leave Moscow, and I hadn't any desire to be re-taken here and
+sent to taste the joys of Siberia."
+
+"But why were you condemned to death?"
+
+"Why, she doesn't know anything!" exclaimed the others.
+
+"Good Lord, I'm just back from London and Paris--how should I know
+anything! But to have been condemned to death! That must have been
+amusing."
+
+"Very amusing," said Annouchka icily. "And if you have a brother whom
+you love, Onoto, think how much more amusing it must be to have him shot
+before you."
+
+"Oh, my love, forgive me!"
+
+"So you may know and not give any pain to your Annouchka in the future,
+I will tell you, madame, what happened to our dear friend," said Prince
+Galitch.
+
+"We would do better to drive away such terrible memories," ventured
+Gounsovski, lifting his eyelashes behind his glasses, but he bent his
+head as Annouchka sent him a blazing glance.
+
+"Speak, Galitch."
+
+The Prince did as she said.
+
+"Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line, whom
+the Strike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the only means
+of escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops when Trebassof's
+soldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had become masters of the
+city. The last resistance took place at the station. It was necessary
+to get started. All the ways were guarded by the military. There were
+soldiers everywhere! Vlassof said to his comrades, 'I will save you;'
+and his comrades saw him mount the engine with a woman. That woman
+was--well, there she sits. Vlassof's fireman had been killed the evening
+before, on a barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place. They busied
+themselves and the train started like a shot. On that curved line,
+discovered at once, easy to attack, under a shower of bullets, Vlassof
+developed a speed of ninety versts an hour. He ran the indicator up to
+the explosion point. The lady over there continued to pile coal into the
+furnace. The danger came to be less from the military and more from
+an explosion at any moment. In the midst of the balls Vlassof kept his
+usual coolness. He sped not only with the firebox open but with the
+forced draught. It was a miracle that the engine was not smashed against
+the curve of the embankment. But they got past. Not a man was hurt. Only
+a woman was wounded. She got a ball in the chest."
+
+"There!" cried Annouchka.
+
+With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving chest,
+and put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began to melt in
+heavy drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.
+
+"Fifteen days later," continued the prince, "Vlassof entered an inn
+at Lubetszy. He didn't know it was full of soldiers. His face never
+altered. They searched him. They found a revolver and papers on him.
+They knew whom they had to do with. He was a good prize. Vlassof was
+taken to Moscow and condemned to be shot. His sister, wounded as she
+was, learned of his arrest and joined him. 'I do not wish,' she said
+to him, 'to leave you to die alone.' She also was condemned. Before the
+execution the soldiers offered to bandage their eyes, but both refused,
+saying they preferred to meet death face to face. The orders were to
+shoot all the other condemned revolutionaries first, then Vlassof,
+then his sister. It was in vain that Vlassof asked to die last. Their
+comrades in execution sank to their knees, bleeding from their death
+wounds. Vlassof embraced his sister and walked to the place of death.
+There he addressed the soldiers: 'Now you have to carry out your duty
+according to the oath you have taken. Fulfill it honestly as I have
+fulfilled mine. Captain, give the order.' The volley sounded. Vlassof
+remained erect, his arms crossed on his breast, safe and sound. Not a
+ball had touched him. The soldiers did not wish to fire at him. He had
+to summon them again to fulfill their duty, and obey their chief. Then
+they fired again, and he fell. He looked at his sister with his eyes
+full of horrible suffering. Seeing that he lived, and wishing to appear
+charitable, the captain, upon Annouchka's prayers, approached and cut
+short his sufferings by firing a revolver into his ear. Now it was
+Annouchka's turn. She knelt by the body of her brother, kissed his
+bloody lips, rose and said, 'I am ready.' As the guns were raised, an
+officer came running, bearing the pardon of the Tsar. She did not
+wish it, and she whom they had not bound when she was to die had to be
+restrained when she learned she was to live."
+
+Prince Galitch, amid the anguished silence of all there, started to
+add some words of comment to his sinister recital, but Annouchka
+interrupted:
+
+"The story is ended," said she. "Not a word, Prince. If I asked you
+to tell it in all its horror, if I wished you to bring back to us the
+atrocious moment of my brother's death, it is so that monsieur" (her
+fingers pointed to Gounsovski) "shall know well, once for all, that if
+I have submitted for some hours now to this promiscuous company that has
+been imposed upon me, now that I have paid the debt by accepting this
+abominable supper, I have nothing more to do with this purveyor of
+bagnios and of hangman's ropes who is here."
+
+"She is mad," he muttered. "She is mad. What has come over her? What has
+happened? Only to-day she was so, so amiable."
+
+And he stuttered, desolately, with an embarrassed laugh:
+
+"Ah, the women, the women! Now what have I done to her?"
+
+"What have you done to me, wretch? Where are Belachof, Bartowsky and
+Strassof? And Pierre Slutch? All the comrades who swore with me to
+revenge my brother? Where are they? On what gallows did you have them
+hung? What mine have you buried them in? And still you follow your
+slavish task. And my friends, my other friends, the poor comrades of my
+artist life, the inoffensive young men who have not committed any
+other crime than to come to see me too often when I was lively, and who
+believed they could talk freely in my dressing-room--where are they?
+Why have they left me, one by one? Why have they disappeared? It is you,
+wretch, who watched them, who spied on them, making me, I haven't any
+doubt, your horrible accomplice, mixing me up in your beastly work, you
+dog! You knew what they call me. You have known it for a long time, and
+you may well laugh over it. But I, I never knew until this evening; I
+never learned until this evening all I owe to you. 'Stool pigeon! Stool
+pigeon!' I! Horror! Ah, you dog, you dog! Your mother, when you were
+brought into the world, your mother..." Here she hurled at him the most
+offensive insult that a Russian can offer a man of that race.
+
+She trembled and sobbed with rage, spat in fury, and stood up ready to
+go, wrapped in her mantle like a great red flag. She was the statue of
+hate and vengeance. She was horrible and terrible. She was beautiful.
+At the final supreme insult, Gounsovski started and rose to his feet as
+though he had received an actual blow in the face. He did not look at
+Annouchka, but fixed his eyes on Prince Galitch. His finger pointed him
+out:
+
+"There is the man," he hissed, "who has told you all these fine things."
+
+"Yes, it is I," said the Prince, tranquilly.
+
+"Caracho!" barked Gounsovski, instantaneously regaining his coolness.
+
+"Ah, yes, but you'll not touch him," clamored the spirited girl of the
+Black Land; "you are not strong enough for that."
+
+"I know that monsieur has many friends at court," agreed the chief of
+the Secret Service with an ominous calm. "I don't wish ill to monsieur.
+You speak, madame, of the way some of your friends have had to be
+sacrificed. I hope that some day you will be better informed, and that
+you will understand I saved all of them I could."
+
+"Let us go," muttered Annouchka. "I shall spit in his face."
+
+"Yes, all I could," replied the other, with his habitual gesture of
+hanging on to his glasses. "And I shall continue to do so. I promise you
+not to say anything more disagreeable to the prince than as regards his
+little friend the Bohemian Katharina, whom he has treated so generously
+just now, doubtless because Boris Mourazoff pays her too little for the
+errands she runs each morning to the villa of Krestowsky Ostrow."
+
+At these words the Prince and Annouchka both changed countenance. Their
+anger rose. Annouchka turned her head as though to arrange the folds
+of her cloak. Galitch contented himself with shrugging his shoulders
+impatiently and murmuring:
+
+"Still some other abomination that you are concocting, monsieur, and
+that we don't know how to reply to."
+
+After which he bowed to the supper-party, took Annouchka's arm and had
+her move before him. Gounsovski bowed, almost bent in two. When he rose
+he saw before him the three astounded and horrified figures of Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+"Messieurs," he said to them, in a colorless voice which seemed not to
+belong to him, "the time has come for us to part. I need not say that we
+have supped as friends and that, if you wish it to be so, we can forget
+everything that has been said here."
+
+The three others, frightened, at once protested their discretion.
+He added, roughly this time, "Service of the Tsar," and the three
+stammered, "God save the Tsar!" After which he saw them to the door.
+When the door had closed after them, he said, "My little Annouchka,
+you mustn't reckon without me." He hurried toward the sofa, where
+Rouletabille was lying forgotten, and gave him a tap on the shoulder.
+
+"Come, get up. Don't act as though you were asleep. Not an instant
+to lose. They are going to carry through the Trebassof affair this
+evening."
+
+Rouletabille was already on his legs.
+
+"Oh, monsieur," said he, "I didn't want you to tell me that. Thanks all
+the same, and good evening."
+
+He went out.
+
+Gounsovski rang. A servant appeared.
+
+"Tell them they may now open all the rooms on this corridor; I'll not
+hold them any longer." Thus had Gounsovski kept himself protected.
+
+Left alone, the head of the Secret Service wiped his brow and drank a
+great glass of iced water which he emptied at a draught. Then he said:
+
+"Koupriane will have his work cut out for him this evening; I wish him
+good luck. As to them, whatever happens, I wash my hands of them."
+
+And he rubbed his hands.
+
+
+
+
+
+X. A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+
+At the door of the Krestowsky Rouletabille, who was in a hurry for
+a conveyance, jumped into an open carriage where la belle Onoto was
+already seated. The dancer caught him on her knees.
+
+"To Eliaguine, fast as you can," cried the reporter for all explanation.
+
+"Scan! Scan! (Quickly, quickly)" repeated Onoto.
+
+She was accompanied by a vague sort of person to whom neither of them
+paid the least attention.
+
+"What a supper! You waked up at last, did you?" quizzed the actress. But
+Rouletabille, standing up behind the enormous coachman, urged the horses
+and directed the route of the carriage. They bolted along through the
+night at a dizzy pace. At the corner of a bridge he ordered the horses
+stopped, thanked his companions and disappeared.
+
+"What a country! What a country! Caramba!" said the Spanish artist.
+
+The carriage waited a few minutes, then turned back toward the city.
+
+Rouletabille got down the embankment and slowly, taking infinite
+precautions not to reveal his presence by making the least noise, made
+his way to where the river is widest. Seen through the blackness of the
+night the blacker mass of the Trebassof villa loomed like an enormous
+blot, he stopped. Then he glided like a snake through the reeds, the
+grass, the ferns. He was at the back of the villa, near the river, not
+far from the little path where he had discovered the passage of the
+assassin, thanks to the broken cobwebs. At that moment the moon rose and
+the birch-trees, which just before had been like great black staffs, now
+became white tapers which seemed to brighten that sinister solitude.
+
+The reporter wished to profit at once by the sudden luminance to learn
+if his movements had been noticed and if the approaches to the villa on
+that side were guarded. He picked up a small pebble and threw it some
+distance from him along the path. At the unexpected noise three or four
+shadowy heads were outlined suddenly in the white light of the moon, but
+disappeared at once, lost again in the dark tufts of grass.
+
+He had gained his information.
+
+The reporter's acute ear caught a gliding in his direction, a slight
+swish of twigs; then all at once a shadow grew by his side and he felt
+the cold of a revolver barrel on his temple. He said "Koupriane," and at
+once a hand seized his and pressed it.
+
+The night had become black again. He murmured: "How is it you are here
+in person?"
+
+The Prefect of Police whispered in his ear:
+
+"I have been informed that something will happen to-night. Natacha went
+to Krestowsky and exchanged some words with Annouchka there. Prince
+Galitch is involved, and it is an affair of State."
+
+"Natacha has returned?" inquired Rouletabille.
+
+"Yes, a long time ago. She ought to be in bed. In any case she is
+pretending to be abed. The light from her chamber, in the window over
+the garden, has been put out."
+
+"Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?"
+
+"Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out
+to-night."
+
+"That's a mistake. I shouldn't have told her anything. She will take
+such extra precautions that the others will be instantly warned."
+
+"I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this
+night, and that she must not leave the general's chamber."
+
+"That is perfect, if she will obey you."
+
+"You see I have profited by all your information. I have followed your
+instructions. The road from the Krestowsky is under surveillance."
+
+"Perhaps too much. How are you planning?"
+
+"We will let them enter. I don't know whom I have to deal with. I want
+to strike a sure blow. I shall take him in the act. No more doubt after
+this, you trust me."
+
+"Adieu."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To bed. I have paid my debt to my host. I have the right to some repose
+now. Good luck!"
+
+But Koupriane had seized his hand.
+
+"Listen."
+
+With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water. If
+a boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and wished to
+remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen. A great black
+cloud covered the moon; the wind was light. The boat would have time to
+get from one bank to the other without being discovered. Rouletabille
+waited no longer. On all-fours he ran like a beast, rapidly and
+silently, and rose behind the wall of the villa, where he made a turn,
+reached the gate, aroused the dvornicks and demanded Ermolai, who opened
+the gate for him.
+
+"The Barinia?" he said.
+
+Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.
+
+"Caracho!"
+
+Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself by
+his fingers to the window of Natacha's chamber, where he listened. He
+plainly heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber. He fell back
+lightly onto his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the door,
+then closed it so lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from outside not
+two feet away, did not hear the slightest grinding of the hinges. Inside
+the villa Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe. He found the door of the
+drawing-room open. The door of the sitting-room had not been closed, or
+else had been reopened. He turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a
+chair and sat down, with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting
+for the events that would not delay long now. Above he heard distinctly
+from time to time the movements of Matrena Petrovna. And this would
+evidently give a sense of security to those who needed to have the
+ground-floor free this night. Rouletabille imagined that the doors of
+the rooms on the ground-floor had been left open so that it would be
+easier for those who would be below to hear what was happening upstairs.
+And perhaps he was not wrong.
+
+Suddenly there was a vertical bar of pale light from the sitting-room
+that overlooked the Neva. He deduced two things: first, that the window
+was already slightly open, then that the moon was out from the clouds
+again. The bar of light died almost instantly, but Rouletabille's eyes,
+now used to the obscurity, still distinguished the open line of the
+window. There the shade was less deep. Suddenly he felt the blood pound
+at his temples, for the line of the open window grew larger, increased,
+and the shadow of a man gradually rose on the balcony. Rouletabille drew
+his revolver.
+
+The man stood up immediately behind one of the shutters and struck a
+light blow on the glass. Placed as he was now he could be seen no more.
+His shadow mixed with the shadow of the shutter. At the noise on
+the glass Natacha's door had opened cautiously, and she entered the
+sitting-room. On tiptoe she went quickly to the window and opened it.
+The man entered. The little light that by now was commencing to dawn
+was enough to show Rouletabille that Natacha still wore the toilette in
+which he had seen her that same evening at Krestowsky. As for the man,
+he tried in vain to identify him; he was only a dark mass wrapped in
+a mantle. He leaned over and kissed Natacha's hand. She said only one
+word: "Scan!" (Quickly).
+
+But she had no more than said it before, under a vigorous attack, the
+shutters and the two halves of the window were thrown wide, and silent
+shadows jumped rapidly onto the balcony and sprang into the villa.
+Natacha uttered a shrill cry in which Rouletabille believed still he
+heard more of despair than terror, and the shadows threw themselves on
+the man; but he, at the first alarm, had thrown himself upon the carpet
+and had slipped from them between their legs. He regained the balcony
+and jumped from it as the others turned toward him. At least, it was
+so that Rouletabille believed he saw the mysterious struggle go in the
+half-light, amid most impressive silence, after that frightened cry of
+Natacha's. The whole affair had lasted only a few seconds, and the man
+was still hanging over the balcony, when from the bottom of the hall a
+new person sprang. It was Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Warned by Koupriane that something would happen that night, and
+foreseeing that it would happen on the ground-floor where she was
+forbidden to be, she had found nothing better to do than to make her
+faithful maid go secretly to the bedroom floor, with orders to walk
+about there all night, to make all think she herself was near the
+general, while she remained below, hidden in the dining-room.
+
+Matrena Petrovna now threw herself out onto the balcony, crying in
+Russian, "Shoot! Shoot!" In just that moment the man was hesitating
+whether to risk the jump and perhaps break his neck, or descend less
+rapidly by the gutter-pipe. A policeman fired and missed him, and the
+man, after firing back and wounding the policeman, disappeared. It was
+still too far from dawn for them to see clearly what happened below,
+where the barking of Brownings alone was heard. And there could be
+nothing more sinister than the revolver-shots unaccompanied by cries in
+the mists of the morning. The man, before he disappeared, had had only
+time by a quick kick to throw down one of the two ladders which had been
+used by the police in climbing; down the other one all the police in a
+bunch, even to the wounded one, went sliding, falling, rising, running
+after the shadow which fled still, discharging the Browning steadily;
+other shadows rose from the river-bank, hovering in the mist. Suddenly
+Koupriane's voice was heard shouting orders, calling upon his agents to
+take the quarry alive or dead. From the balcony Matrena Petrovna cried
+out also, like a savage, and Rouletabille tried in vain to keep her
+quiet. She was delirious at the thought "The Other" might escape yet.
+She fired a revolver, she also, into the group, not knowing whom she
+might wound. Rouletabille grabbed her arm and as she turned on him
+angrily she observed Natacha, who, leaning until she almost fell over
+the balcony, her lips trembling with delirious utterance, followed as
+well as she could the progress of the struggle, trying to understand
+what happened below, under the trees, near the Neva, where the tumult
+by now extended. Matrena Petrovna pulled her back by the arms. Then she
+took her by the neck and threw her into the drawing-room in a heap. When
+she had almost strangled her step-daughter, Matrena Petrovna saw that
+the general was there. He appeared in the pale glimmerings of dawn like
+a specter. By what miracle had Feodor Feodorovitch been able to descend
+the stairs and reach there? How had it been brought about? She saw him
+tremble with anger or with wretchedness under the folds of the soldier's
+cape that floated about him. He demanded in a hoarse voice, "What is
+it?"
+
+Matrena Petrovna threw herself at his feet, made the orthodox sign of
+the Cross, as if she wished to summon God to witness, and then, pointing
+to Natacha, she denounced his daughter to her husband as she would have
+pointed her out to a judge.
+
+"The one, Feodor Feodorovitch, who has wished more than once to
+assassinate you, and who this night has opened the datcha to your
+assassin is your daughter."
+
+The general held himself up by his two hands against the wall, and,
+looking at Matrena and Natacha, who now were both upon the floor before
+him like suppliants, he said to Matrena:
+
+"It is you who assassinate me."
+
+"Me! By the living God!" babbled Matrena Petrovna desperately. "If I had
+been able to keep this from you, Jesus would have been good! But I say
+no more to crucify you. Feodor Feodorovitch, question your daughter,
+and if what I have said is not true, kill me, kill me as a lying, evil
+beast. I will say thank you, thank you, and I will die happier than if
+what I have said was true. Ah, I long to be dead! Kill me!"
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch pushed her back with his stick as one would push
+a worm in his path. Without saying anything further, she rose from
+her knees and looked with her haggard eyes, with her crazed face, at
+Rouletabille, who grasped her arm. If she had had her hands still free
+she would not have hesitated a second in wreaking justice upon herself
+under this bitter fate of alienating Feodor. And it seemed frightful to
+Rouletabille that he should be present at one of those horrible family
+dramas the issue of which in the wild times of Peter the Great would
+have sent the general to the hangman either as a father or as a husband.
+
+The general did not deign even to consider for any length of time
+Matrena's delirium. He said to his daughter, who shook with sobs on the
+floor, "Rise, Natacha Feodorovna." And Feodor's daughter understood that
+her father never would believe in her guilt. She drew herself up towards
+him and kissed his hands like a happy slave.
+
+At this moment repeated blows shook the veranda door. Matrena, the
+watch-dog, anxious to die after Feodor's reproach, but still at
+her post, ran toward what she believed to be a new danger. But she
+recognized Koupriane's voice, which called on her to open. She let him
+in herself.
+
+"What is it?" she implored.
+
+"Well, he is dead."
+
+A cry answered him. Natacha had heard.
+
+"But who--who--who?" questioned Matrena breathlessly.
+
+Koupriane went over to Feodor and grasped his hands.
+
+"General," he said, "there was a man who had sworn your ruin and who was
+made an instrument by your enemies. We have just killed that man."
+
+"Do I know him?" demanded Feodor.
+
+"He is one of your friends, you have treated him like a son."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"Ask your daughter, General."
+
+Feodor turned toward Natacha, who burned Koupriane with her gaze, trying
+to learn what this news was he brought--the truth or a ruse.
+
+"You know the man who wished to kill me, Natacha?"
+
+"No," she replied to her father, in accents of perfect fury. "No, I
+don't know any such man."
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Koupriane, in a firm, terribly hostile voice, "you
+have yourself, with your own hands, opened that window to-night; and you
+have opened it to him many other times besides. While everyone else here
+does his duty and watches that no person shall be able to enter at night
+the house where sleeps General Trebassof, governor of Moscow, condemned
+to death by the Central Revolutionary Committee now reunited at Presnia,
+this is what you do; it is you who introduce the enemy into this place."
+
+"Answer, Natacha; tell me, yes or no, whether you have let anybody into
+this house by night."
+
+"Father, it is true."
+
+Feodor roared like a lion:
+
+"His name!"
+
+"Monsieur will tell you himself," said Natacha, in a voice thick with
+terror, and she pointed to Koupriane. "Why does he not tell you himself
+the name of that person? He must know it, if the man is dead."
+
+"And if the man is not dead," replied Feodor, who visibly held onto
+himself, "if that man, whom you helped to enter my house this night, has
+succeeded in escaping, as you seem to hope, will you tell us his name?"
+
+"I could not tell it, Father."
+
+"And if I prayed you to do so?"
+
+Natacha desperately shook her head.
+
+"And if I order you?"
+
+"You can kill me, Father, but I will not pronounce that name."
+
+"Wretch!"
+
+He raised his stick toward her. Thus Ivan the Terrible had killed his
+son with a blow of his boar-spear.
+
+But Natacha, instead of bowing her head beneath the blow that menaced
+her, turned toward Koupriane and threw at him in accents of triumph:
+
+"He is not dead. If you had succeeded in taking him, dead or alive, you
+would already have his name."
+
+Koupriane took two steps toward her, put his hand on her shoulder and
+said:
+
+"Michael Nikolaievitch."
+
+"Michael Korsakoff!" cried the general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, as if revolted by that suggestion, stood upright to
+repeat:
+
+"Michael Korsakoff!"
+
+The general could not believe his ears, and was about to protest when he
+noticed that his daughter had turned away and was trying to flee to her
+room. He stopped her with a terrible gesture.
+
+"Natacha, you are going to tell us what Michael Korsakoff came here to
+do to-night."
+
+"Feodor Feodorovitch, he came to poison you."
+
+It was Matrena who spoke now and whom nothing could have kept silent,
+for she saw in Natacha's attempt at flight the most sinister confession.
+Like a vengeful fury she told over with cries and terrible gestures what
+she had experienced, as if once more stretched before her the hand
+armed with the poison, the mysterious hand above the pillow of her poor
+invalid, her dear, rigorous tyrant; she told them about the preceding
+night and all her terrors, and from her lips, by her voluble staccato
+utterance that ominous recital had grotesque emphasis. Finally she told
+all that she had done, she and the little Frenchman, in order not to
+betray their suspicions to The Other, in order to take finally in their
+own trap all those who for so many days and nights schemed for the death
+of Feodor Feodorovitch. As she ended she pointed out Rouletabille to
+Feodor and cried, "There is the one who has saved you."
+
+Natacha, as she listened to this tragic recital, restrained herself
+several times in order not to interrupt, and Rouletabille, who was
+watching her closely, saw that she had to use almost superhuman efforts
+in order to achieve that. All the horror of what seemed to be to her as
+well as to Feodor a revelation of Michael's crime did not subdue her,
+but seemed, on the contrary, to restore to her in full force all the
+life that a few seconds earlier had fled from her. Matrena had hardly
+finished her cry, "There is the one who has saved you," before Natacha
+cried in her turn, facing the reporter with a look full of the most
+frightful hate, "There is the one who has been the death of an innocent
+man!" She turned to her father. "Ah, papa, let me, let me say that
+Michael Nikolaievitch, who came here this evening, I admit, and whom, it
+is true, I let into the house, that Michael Nikolaievitch did not
+come here yesterday, and that the man who has tried to poison you is
+certainly someone else."
+
+At these words Rouletabille turned pale, but he did not let himself lose
+self-control. He replied simply:
+
+"No, mademoiselle, it was the same man."
+
+And Koupriane felt compelled to add:
+
+"Anyway, we have found the proof of Michael Nikolaievitch's relations
+with the revolutionaries."
+
+"Where have you found that?" questioned the young girl, turning toward
+the Chief of Police a face ravished with anguish.
+
+"At Krestowsky, mademoiselle."
+
+She looked a long time at him as though she would penetrate to the
+bottom of his thoughts.
+
+"What proofs?" she implored.
+
+"A correspondence which we have placed under seal."
+
+"Was it addressed to him? What kind of correspondence?"
+
+"If it interests you, we will open it before you."
+
+"My God! My God!" she gasped. "Where have you found this correspondence?
+Where? Tell me where!"
+
+"I will tell you. At the villa, in his chamber. We forced the lock of
+his bureau."
+
+She seemed to breathe again, but her father took her brutally by the
+arm.
+
+"Come, Natacha, you are going to tell us what that man was doing here
+to-night."
+
+"In her chamber!" cried Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Natacha turned toward Matrena:
+
+"What do you believe, then? Tell me now."
+
+"And I, what ought I to believe?" muttered Feodor. "You have not told
+me yet. You did not know that man had relations with my enemies. You are
+innocent of that, perhaps. I wish to think so. I wish it, in the name
+of Heaven I wish it. But why did you receive him? Why? Why did you bring
+him in here, as a robber or as a..."
+
+"Oh, papa, you know that I love Boris, that I love him with all my
+heart, and that I would never belong to anyone but him."
+
+"Then, then, then.--speak!"
+
+The young girl had reached the crisis.
+
+"Ah, Father, Father, do not question me! You, you above all, do not
+question me now. I can say nothing! There is nothing I can tell
+you. Excepting that I am sure--sure, you understand--that Michael
+Nikolaievitch did not come here last night."
+
+"He did come," insisted Rouletabille in a slightly troubled voice.
+
+"He came here with poison. He came here to poison your father, Natacha,"
+moaned Matrena Petrovna, who twined her hands in gestures of sincere and
+naive tragedy.
+
+"And I," replied the daughter of Feodor ardently, with an accent
+of conviction which made everyone there vibrate, and particularly
+Rouletabille, "and I, I tell you it was not he, that it was not he, that
+it could not possibly be he. I swear to you it was another, another."
+
+"But then, this other, did you let him in as well?" said Koupriane.
+
+"Ah, yes, yes. It was I. It was I. It was I who left the window and
+blinds open. Yes, it is I who did that. But I did not wait for the
+other, the other who came to assassinate. As to Michael Nikolaievitch,
+I swear to you, my father, by all that is most sacred in heaven and
+on earth, that he could not have committed the crime that you say. And
+now--kill me, for there is nothing more I can say."
+
+"The poison," replied Koupriane coldly, "the poison that he poured into
+the general's potion was that arsenate of soda which was on the grapes
+the Marshal of the Court brought here. Those grapes were left by the
+Marshal, who warned Michael Nikolaievitch and Boris Alexandrovitch to
+wash them. The grapes disappeared. If Michael is innocent, do you accuse
+Boris?"
+
+Natacha, who seemed to have suddenly lost all power for defending
+herself, moaned, begged, railed, seemed dying.
+
+"No, no. Don't accuse Boris. He has nothing to do with it. Don't accuse
+Michael. Don't accuse anyone so long as you don't know. But these two
+are innocent. Believe me. Believe me. Ah, how shall I say it, how shall
+I persuade you! I am not able to say anything to you. And you have
+killed Michael. Ah, what have you done, what have you done!"
+
+"We have suppressed a man," said the icy voice of Koupriane, "who was
+merely the agent for the base deeds of Nihilism."
+
+She succeeded in recovering a new energy that in her depths of despair
+they would have supposed impossible. She shook her fists at Koupriane:
+
+"It is not true, it is not true. These are slanders, infamies! The
+inventions of the police! Papers devised to incriminate him. There
+is nothing at all of what you said you found at his house. It is not
+possible. It is not true."
+
+"Where are those papers?" demanded the curt voice of Feodor. "Bring them
+here at once, Koupriane; I wish to see them."
+
+Koupriane was slightly troubled, and this did not escape Natacha, who
+cried:
+
+"Yes, yes, let him give us them, let him bring them if he has them. But
+he hasn't," she clamored with a savage joy. "He has nothing. You can
+see, papa, that he has nothing. He would already have brought them out.
+He has nothing. I tell you he has nothing. Ah, he has nothing! He has
+nothing!"
+
+And she threw herself on the floor, weeping, sobbing, "He has nothing,
+he has nothing!" She seemed to weep for joy.
+
+"Is that true?" demanded Feodor Feodorovitch, with his most somber
+manner. "Is it true, Koupriane, that you have nothing?"
+
+"It is true, General, that we have found nothing. Everything had already
+been carried away."
+
+But Natacha uttered a veritable torrent of glee:
+
+"He has found nothing! Yet he accuses him of being allied with
+the revolutionaries. Why? Why? Because I let him in? But I, am I a
+revolutionary? Tell me. Have I sworn to kill papa? I? I? Ah, he doesn't
+know what to say. You see for yourself, papa, he is silent. He has lied.
+He has lied."
+
+"Why have you made this false statement, Koupriane?"
+
+"Oh, we have suspected Michael for some time, and truly, after what has
+just happened, we cannot have any doubt."
+
+"Yes, but you declared you had papers, and you have not. That is
+abominable procedure, Koupriane," replied Feodor sternly. "I have heard
+you condemn such expedients many times."
+
+"General! We are sure, you hear, we are absolutely sure that the man who
+tried to poison you yesterday and the man to-day who is dead are one and
+the same."
+
+"And what reason have you for being so sure? It is necessary to tell
+it," insisted the general, who trembled with distress and impatience.
+
+"Yes, let him tell now."
+
+"Ask monsieur," said Koupriane.
+
+They all turned to Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter replied, affecting a coolness that perhaps he did not
+entirely feel:
+
+"I am able to state to you, as I already have before Monsieur the
+Prefect of Police, that one, and only one, person has left the traces of
+his various climbings on the wall and on the balcony."
+
+"Idiot!" interrupted Natacha, with a passionate disdain for the young
+man. "And that satisfies you?"
+
+The general roughly seized the reporter's wrist:
+
+"Listen to me, monsieur. A man came here this night. That concerns only
+me. No one has any right to be astonished excepting myself. I make it my
+own affair, an affair between my daughter and me. But you, you have just
+told us that you are sure that man is an assassin. Then, you see, that
+calls for something else. Proofs are necessary, and I want the proofs
+at once. You speak of traces; very well, we will go and examine those
+traces together. And I wish for your sake, monsieur, that I shall be as
+convinced by them as you are."
+
+Rouletabille quietly disengaged his wrist and replied with perfect calm:
+
+"Now, monsieur, I am no longer able to prove anything to you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because the ladders of the police agents have wiped out all my proofs,
+monsieur.
+
+"So now there remains for us only your word, only your belief in
+yourself. And if you are mistaken?"
+
+"He would never admit it, papa," cried Natacha. "Ah, it is he who
+deserves the fate Michael Nikolaievitch has met just now. Isn't it so?
+Don't you know it? And that will be your eternal remorse! Isn't there
+something that always keeps you from admitting that you are mistaken?
+You have had an innocent man killed. Now, you know well enough, you know
+well that I would not have admitted Michael Nikolaievitch here if I had
+believed he was capable of wishing to poison my father."
+
+"Mademoiselle," replied Rouletabille, not lowering his eyes under
+Natacha's thunderous regard, "I am sure of that."
+
+He said it in such a tone that Natacha continued to look at him with
+incomprehensible anguish in her eyes. Ah, the baffling of those two
+regards, the mute scene between those two young people, one of whom
+wished to make himself understood and the other afraid beyond all other
+things of being thoroughly understood. Natacha murmured:
+
+"How he looks at me! See, he is the demon; yes, yes, the little domovoi,
+the little domovoi. But look out, poor wretch; you don't know what you
+have done."
+
+She turned brusquely toward Koupriane:
+
+"Where is the body of Michael Nikolaievitch?" said she. "I wish to see
+it. I must see it."
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch had fallen, as though asleep, upon a chair. Matrena
+Petrovna dared not approach him. The giant appeared hurt to the death,
+disheartened forever. What neither bombs, nor bullets, nor poison had
+been able to do, the single idea of his daughter's co-operation in the
+work of horror plotted about him--or rather the impossibility he faced
+of understanding Natacha's attitude, her mysterious conduct, the
+chaos of her explanations, her insensate cries, her protestations
+of innocence, her accusations, her menaces, her prayers and all
+her disorder, the avowed fact of her share in that tragic nocturnal
+adventure where Michael Nikolaievitch found his death, had knocked over
+Feodor Feodorovitch like a straw. One instant he sought refuge in some
+vague hope that Koupriane was less assured than he pretended of the
+orderly's guilt. But that, after all, was only a detail of no importance
+in his eyes. What alone mattered was the significance of Natacha's act,
+and the unhappy girl seemed not to be concerned over what he would
+think of it. She was there to fight against Koupriane, Rouletabille and
+Matrena Petrovna, defending her Michael Nikolaievitch, while he, the
+father, after having failed to overawe her just now, was there in a
+corner suffering agonizedly.
+
+Koupriane walked over to him and said:
+
+"Listen to me carefully, Feodor Feodorovitch. He who speaks to you is
+Head of the Police by the will of the Tsar, and your friend by the grace
+of God. If you do not demand before us, who are acquainted with all that
+has happened and who know how to keep any necessary secret, if you do
+not demand of your daughter the reason for her conduct with Michael
+Nikolaievitch, and if she does not tell you in all sincerity, there is
+nothing more for me to do here. My men have already been ordered away
+from this house as unworthy to guard the most loyal subject of His
+Majesty; I have not protested, but now I in my turn ask you to prove to
+me that the most dangerous enemy you have had in your house is not your
+daughter."
+
+These words, which summed up the horrible situation, came as a relief
+for Feodor. Yes, they must know. Koupriane was right. She must speak. He
+ordered his daughter to tell everything, everything.
+
+Natacha fixed Koupriane again with her look of hatred to the death,
+turned from him and repeated in a firm voice:
+
+"I have nothing to say."
+
+"There is the accomplice of your assassins," growled Koupriane then, his
+arm extended.
+
+Natacha uttered a cry like a wounded beast and fell at her father's
+feet. She gathered them within her supplicating arms. She pressed them
+to her breasts. She sobbed from the bottom of her heart. And he, not
+comprehending, let her lie there, distant, hostile, somber. Then she
+moaned, distractedly, and wept bitterly, and the dramatic atmosphere in
+which she thus suddenly enveloped Feodor made it all sound like those
+cries of an earlier time when the all-powerful, punishing father
+appeared in the women's apartments to punish the culpable ones.
+
+"My father! Dear Father! Look at me! Look at me! Have pity on me, and do
+not require me to speak when I must be silent forever. And believe me!
+Do not believe these men! Do not believe Matrena Petrovna. And am I not
+your daughter? Your very own daughter! Your Natacha Feodorovna! I cannot
+make things dear to you. No, no, by the Holy Virgin Mother of Jesus
+I cannot explain. By the holy ikons, it is because I must not. By my
+mother, whom I have not known and whose place you have taken, oh, my
+father, ask me nothing more! Ask me nothing more! But take me in your
+arms as you did when I was little; embrace me, dear father; love me.
+I never have had such need to be loved. Love me! I am miserable.
+Unfortunate me, who cannot even kill myself before your eyes to prove
+my innocence and my love. Papa, Papa! What will your arms be for in the
+days left you to live, if you no longer wish to press me to your heart?
+Papa! Papa!"
+
+She laid her head on Feodor's knees. Her hair had come down and hung
+about her in a magnificent disorderly mass of black.
+
+"Look in my eyes! Look in my eyes! See how they love you, Batouchka!
+Batouchka! My dear Batouchka!"
+
+Then Feodor wept. His great tears fell upon Natacha's tears. He raised
+her head and demanded simply in a broken voice:
+
+"You can tell me nothing now? But when will you tell me?"
+
+Natacha lifted her eyes to his, then her look went past him toward
+heaven, and from her lips came just one word, in a sob:
+
+"Never."
+
+Matrena Petrovna, Koupriane and the reporter shuddered before the high
+and terrible thing that happened then. Feodor had taken his daughter's
+face between his hands. He looked long at those eyes raised toward
+heaven, the mouth which had just uttered the word "Never," then, slowly,
+his rude lips went to the tortured, quivering lips of the girl. He held
+her close. She raised her head wildly, triumphantly, and cried, with arm
+extended toward Matrena Petrovna:
+
+"He believes me! He believes me! And you would have believed me also if
+you had been my real mother."
+
+Her head fell back and she dropped unconscious to the floor. Feodor fell
+to his knees, tending her, deploring her, motioning the others out of
+the room.
+
+"Go away! All of you, go! All! You, too, Matrena Petrovna. Go away!"
+
+They disappeared, terrified by his savage gesture.
+
+In the little datcha across the river at Krestowsky there was a body.
+Secret Service agents guarded it while they waited for their chief.
+Michael Nikolaievitch had come there to die, and the police had
+reached him just at his last breath. They were behind him as, with the
+death-rattle in his throat, he pulled himself into his chamber and fell
+in a heap. Katharina the Bohemian was there. She bent her quick-witted,
+puzzled head over his death agony. The police swarmed everywhere,
+ransacking, forcing locks, pulling drawers from the bureau and tables,
+emptying the cupboards. Their search took in everything, even to ripping
+the mattresses, and not respecting the rooms of Boris Mourazoff, who
+was away this night. They searched thoroughly, but they found absolutely
+nothing they were looking for in Michael's rooms. But they accumulated a
+multitude of publications that belonged to Boris: Western books, essays
+on political economy, a history of the French Revolution, and verses
+that a man ought to hang for. They put them all under seal. During the
+search Michael died in Katharina's arms. She had held him close, after
+opening his clothes over the chest, doubtless to make his last breaths
+easier. The unfortunate officer had received a bullet at the back of
+the head just after he had plunged into the Neva from the rear of the
+Trebassof datcha and started to swim across. It was a miracle that he
+had managed to keep going. Doubtless he hoped to die in peace if only
+he could reach his own house. He apparently had believed he could manage
+that once he had broken through his human bloodhounds. He did not know
+he was recognized and his place of retreat therefore known.
+
+Now the police had gone from cellar to garret. Koupriane came from the
+Trebassof villa and joined them, Rouletabille followed him. The reporter
+could not stand the sight of that body, that still had a lingering
+warmth, of the great open eyes that seemed to stare at him, reproaching
+him for this violent death. He turned away in distaste, and perhaps a
+little in fright. Koupriane caught the movement.
+
+"Regrets?" he queried.
+
+"Yes," said Rouletabille. "A death always must be regretted. None the
+less, he was a criminal. But I'm sincerely sorry he died before he had
+been driven to confess, even though we are sure of it."
+
+"Being in the pay of the Nihilists, you mean? That is still your
+opinion?" asked Koupriane.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You know that nothing has been found here in his rooms. The only
+compromising papers that have been found belong to Boris Mourazoff."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Oh--nothing."
+
+Koupriane questioned his men further. They replied categorically. No,
+nothing had been found that directly incriminated anybody; and suddenly
+Rouletabille noted that the conversation of the police and their chief
+had grown more animated. Koupriane had become angry and was violently
+reproaching them. They excused themselves with vivid gesture and rapid
+speech.
+
+Koupriane started away. Rouletabille followed him. What had happened?
+
+As he came up behind Koupriane, he asked the question. In a few curt
+words, still hurrying on, Koupriane told the reporter he had just
+learned that the police had left the little Bohemian Katharina alone for
+a moment with the expiring officer. Katharina acted as housekeeper for
+Michael and Boris. She knew the secrets of them both. The first thing
+any novice should have known was to keep a constant eye upon her, and
+now no one knew where she was. She must be searched for and found at
+once, for she had opened Michael's shirt, and therein probably lay the
+reason that no papers were found on the corpse when the police searched
+it. The absence of papers, of a portfolio, was not natural.
+
+The chase commenced in the rosy dawn of the isles. Already blood-like
+tints were on the horizon. Some of the police cried that they had the
+trail. They ran under the trees, because it was almost certain she had
+taken the narrow path leading to the bridge that joins Krestowsky to
+Kameny-Ostrow. Some indications discovered by the police who swarmed to
+right and left of the path confirmed this hypothesis. And no carriage in
+sight! They all ran on, Koupriane among the first. Rouletabille kept at
+his heels, but he did not pass him. Suddenly there were cries and calls
+among the police. One pointed out something below gliding upon the
+sloping descent. It was little Katharina. She flew like the wind, but
+in a distracted course. She had reached Kameny-Ostrow on the west bank.
+"Oh, for a carriage, a horse!" clamored Koupriane, who had left his
+turn-out at Eliaguine. "The proof is there. It is the final proof of
+everything that is escaping us!"
+
+Dawn was enough advanced now to show the ground clearly. Katharina was
+easily discernible as she reached the Eliaguine bridge. There she was
+in Eliaguine-Ostrow. What was she doing there? Was she going to the
+Trebassof villa? What would she have to say to them? No, she swerved
+to the right. The police raced behind her. She was still far ahead, and
+seemed untiring. Then she disappeared among the trees, in the thicket,
+keeping still to the right. Koupriane gave a cry of joy. Going that way
+she must be taken. He gave some breathless orders for the island to be
+barred. She could not escape now! She could not escape! But where was
+she going? Koupriane knew that island better than anybody. He took a
+short cut to reach the other side, toward which Katharina seemed to be
+heading, and all at once he nearly fell over the girl, who gave a squawk
+of surprise and rushed away, seeming all arms and legs.
+
+"Stop, or I fire!" cried Koupriane, and he drew his revolver. But a hand
+grabbed it from him.
+
+"Not that!" said Rouletabille, as he threw the revolver far from them.
+Koupriane swore at him and resumed the chase. His fury multiplied his
+strength, his agility; he almost reached Katharina, who was almost out
+of breath, but Rouletabille threw himself into the Chief's arms and
+they rolled together upon the grass. When Koupriane rose, it was to see
+Katharina mounting in mad haste the stairs that led to the Barque, the
+floating restaurant of the Strielka. Cursing Rouletabille, but believing
+his prey easily captured now, the Chief in his turn hurried to the
+Barque, into which Katharina had disappeared. He reached the bottom of
+the stairs. On the top step, about to descend from the festive place,
+the form of Prince Galitch appeared. Koupriane received the sight like a
+blow stopping him short in his ascent. Galitch had an exultant air which
+Koupriane did not mistake. Evidently he had arrived too late. He felt
+the certainty of it in profound discouragement. And this appearance of
+the prince on the Barque explained convincingly enough the reason for
+Katharina's flight here.
+
+If the Bohemian had filched the papers or the portfolio from the dead,
+it was the prince now who had them in his pocket.
+
+Koupriane, as he saw the prince about to pass him, trembled. The prince
+saluted him and ironically amused himself by inquiring:
+
+"Well, well, how do you do, my dear Monsieur Koupriane. Your Excellency
+has risen in good time this morning, it seems to me. Or else it is I who
+start for bed too late."
+
+"Prince," said Koupriane, "my men are in pursuit of a little Bohemian
+named Katharina, well known in the restaurants where she sings. We have
+seen her go into the Barque. Have you met her by any chance?"
+
+"Good Lord, Monsieur Koupriane, I am not the concierge of the Barque,
+and I have not noticed anything at all, and nobody. Besides, I am
+naturally a little sleepy. Pardon me."
+
+"Prince, it is not possible that you have not seen Katharina."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur the Prefect of Police, if I had seen her I would not tell
+you about it, since you are pursuing her. Do you take me for one of your
+bloodhounds? They say you have them in all classes, but I insist that I
+haven't enlisted yet. You have made a mistake, Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+The prince saluted again. But Koupriane still stood in his way.
+
+"Prince, consider that this matter is very serious. Michael
+Nikolaievitch, General Trebassof's orderly, is dead, and this little
+girl has stolen his papers from his body. All persons who have spoken
+with Katharina will be under suspicion. This is an affair of State,
+monsieur, which may reach very far. Can you swear to me that you have
+not seen, that you have not spoken to Katharina?"
+
+The prince looked at Koupriane so insolently that the Prefect turned
+pale with rage. Ah, if he were able--if he only dared!--but such men as
+this were beyond him. Galitch walked past him without a word of answer,
+and ordered the schwitzar to call him a carriage.
+
+"Very well," said Koupriane, "I will make my report to the Tsar."
+
+Galitch turned. He was as pale as Koupriane.
+
+"In that case, monsieur," said he, "don't forget to add that I am His
+Majesty's most humble servant."
+
+The carriage drew up. The prince stepped in. Koupriane watched him roll
+away, raging at heart and with his fists doubled. Just then his men came
+up.
+
+"Go. Search," he said roughly, pointing into the Barque.
+
+They scattered through the establishment, entering all the rooms. Cries
+of irritation and of protest arose. Those lingering after the latest of
+late suppers were not pleased at this invasion of the police. Everybody
+had to rise while the police looked under the tables, the benches, the
+long table-cloths. They went into the pantries and down into the hold.
+No sign of Katharina. Suddenly Koupriane, who leaned against a netting
+and looked vaguely out upon the horizon, waiting for the outcome of the
+search, got a start. Yonder, far away on the other side of the river,
+between a little wood and the Staria Derevnia, a light boat drew to the
+shore, and a little black spot jumped from it like a flea. Koupriane
+recognized the little black spot as Katharina. She was safe. Now he could
+not reach her. It would be useless to search the maze of the Bohemian
+quarter, where her country-people lived in full control, with customs
+and privileges that had never been infringed. The entire Bohemian
+population of the capital would have risen against him. It was Prince
+Galitch who had made him fail. One of his men came to him:
+
+"No luck," said he. "We have not found Katharina, but she has been here
+nevertheless. She met Prince Galitch for just a minute, and gave him
+something, then went over the other side into a canoe."
+
+"Very well," and the Prefect shrugged his shoulders. "I was sure of it."
+
+He felt more and more, exasperated. He went down along the river edge
+and the first person he saw was Rouletabille, who waited for him without
+any impatience, seated philosophically on a bench.
+
+"I was looking for you," cried the Prefect. "We have failed. By your
+fault! If you had not thrown yourself into my arms--"
+
+"I did it on purpose," declared the reporter.
+
+"What! What is that you say? You did it on purpose?"
+
+Koupriane choked with rage.
+
+"Your Excellency," said Rouletabille, taking him by the arm, "calm
+yourself. They are watching us. Come along and have a cup of tea at
+Cubat's place. Easy now, as though we were out for a walk."
+
+"Will you explain to me?"
+
+"No, no, Your Excellency. Remember that I have promised you General
+Trebassof's life in exchange for your prisoner's. Very well; by throwing
+myself in your arms and keeping you from reaching Katharina, I saved the
+general's life. It is very simple."
+
+"Are you laughing at me? Do you think you can mock me?"
+
+But the prefect saw quickly that Rouletabille was not fooling and had no
+mockery in his manner.
+
+"Monsieur," he insisted, "since you speak seriously, I certainly wish to
+understand--"
+
+"It is useless," said Rouletabille. "It is very necessary that you
+should not understand."
+
+"But at least..."
+
+"No, no, I can't tell you anything."
+
+"When, then, will you tell me something to explain your unbelievable
+conduct?"
+
+Rouletabille stopped in his tracks and declared solemnly:
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, recall what Natacha Feodorovna as she raised her
+lovely eyes to heaven, replied to her father, when he, also, wished to
+understand: 'Never.'"
+
+
+
+
+
+XI. THE POISON CONTINUES
+
+At ten o'clock that morning Rouletabille went to the Trebassof villa,
+which had its guard of secret agents again, a double guard, because
+Koupriane was sure the Nihilists would not delay in avenging Michael's
+death. Rouletabille was met by Ermolai, who would not allow him to
+enter. The faithful servant uttered some explanation in Russian, which
+the young man did not understand, or, rather, Rouletabille understood
+perfectly from his manner that henceforth the door of the villa was
+closed to him. In vain he insisted on seeing the general, Matrena
+Petrovna and Mademoiselle Natacha. Ermolai made no reply but "Niet,
+niet, niet." The reporter turned away without having seen anyone, and
+walked away deeply depressed. He went afoot clear into the city, a long
+promenade, during which his brain surged with the darkest forebodings.
+As he passed by the Department of Police he resolved to see Koupriane
+again. He went in, gave his name, and was ushered at once to the Chief
+of Police, whom he found bent over a long report that he was reading
+through with noticeable agitation.
+
+"Gounsovski has sent me this," he said in a rough voice, pointing to the
+report. "Gounsovski, 'to do me a service,' desires me to know that he is
+fully aware of all that happened at the Trebassof datcha last night. He
+warns me that the revolutionaries have decided to get through with the
+general at once, and that two of them have been given the mission to
+enter the datcha in any way possible. They will have bombs upon their
+bodies and will blow the bombs and themselves up together as soon as
+they are beside the general. Who are the two victims designated for this
+horrible vengeance, and who have light-heartedly accepted such a death
+for themselves as well as for the general? That is what we don't know.
+That is what we would have known, perhaps, if you had not prevented
+me from seizing the papers that Prince Galitch has now," Koupriane
+finished, turning hostilely toward Rouletabille.
+
+Rouletabille had turned pale.
+
+"Don't regret what happened to the papers," he said. "It is I who tell
+you not to. But what you say doesn't surprise me. They must believe that
+Natacha has betrayed them."
+
+"Ah, then you admit at last that she really is their accomplice?"
+
+"I haven't said that and I don't admit it. But I know what I mean, and
+you, you can't. Only, know this one thing, that at the present moment
+I am the only person able to save you in this horrible situation. To do
+that I must see Natacha at once. Make her understand this, while I wait
+at my hotel for word. I'll not leave it."
+
+Rouletabille saluted Koupriane and went out.
+
+Two days passed, during which Rouletabille did not receive any word from
+either Natacha or Koupriane, and tried in vain to see them. He made a
+trip for a few hours to Finland, going as far as Pergalovo, an isolated
+town said to be frequented by the revolutionaries, then returned, much
+disturbed, to his hotel, after having written a last letter to Natacha
+imploring an interview. The minutes passed very slowly for him in the
+hotel's vestibule, where he had seemed to have taken up a definite
+residence.
+
+Installed on a bench, he seemed to have become part of the hotel staff,
+and more than one traveler took him for an interpreter. Others thought
+he was an agent of the Secret Police appointed to study the faces of
+those arriving and departing. What was he waiting for, then? Was it
+for Annouchka to return for a luncheon or dinner in that place that
+she sometimes frequented? And did he at the same time keep watch upon
+Annouchka's apartments just across the way? If that was so, he could
+only bewail his luck, for Annouchka did not appear either at her
+apartments or the hotel, or at the Krestowsky establishment, which
+had been obliged to suppress her performance. Rouletabille naturally
+thought, in the latter connection, that some vengeance by Gounsovski lay
+back of this, since the head of the Secret Service could hardly forget
+the way he had been treated. The reporter could see already the poor
+singer, in spite of all her safeguards and the favor of the Imperial
+family, on the road to the Siberian steppes or the dungeons of
+Schlusselbourg.
+
+"My, what a country!" he murmured.
+
+But his thoughts soon quit Annouchka and returned to the object of his
+main preoccupation. He waited for only one thing, and for that as soon
+as possible--to have a private interview with Natacha. He had written
+her ten letters in two days, but they all remained unanswered. It was an
+answer that he waited for so patiently in the vestibule of the hotel--so
+patiently, but so nervously, so feverishly.
+
+When the postman entered, poor Rouletabille's heart beat rapidly. On
+that answer he waited for depended the formidable part he meant to play
+before quitting Russia. He had accomplished nothing up to now, unless he
+could play his part in this later development.
+
+But the letter did not come. The postman left, and the schwitzar, after
+examining all the mail, made him a negative sign. Ah, the servants who
+entered, and the errand-boys, how he looked at them! But they never came
+for him. Finally, at six o'clock in the evening of the second day, a man
+in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan collar, came in and handed the
+concierge a letter for Joseph Rouletabille. The reporter jumped up.
+Before the man was out the door he had torn open the letter and read it.
+The letter was not from Natacha. It was from Gounsovski. This is what it
+said:
+
+"My dear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, if it will not inconvenience
+you, I wish you would come and dine with me to-day. I will look for
+you within two hours. Madame Gounsovski will be pleased to make your
+acquaintance. Believe me your devoted Gounsovski."
+
+Rouletabille considered, and decided:
+
+"I will go. He ought to have wind of what is being plotted, and as for
+me, I don't know where Annouchka has gone. I have more to learn from
+him than he has from me. Besides, as Athanase Georgevitch said, one may
+regret not accepting the Head of the Okrana's pleasant invitation."
+
+From six o'clock to seven he still waited vainly for Natacha's response.
+At seven o'clock, he decided to dress for the dinner. Just as he rose,
+a messenger arrived. There was still another letter for Joseph
+Rouletabille. This time it was from Natacha, who wrote him:
+
+"General Trebassof and my step-mother will be very happy to have you
+come to dinner to-day. As for myself, monsieur, you will pardon me the
+order which has closed to you for a number of days a dwelling where you
+have rendered services which I shall not forget all my life."
+
+The letter ended with a vague polite formula. With the letter in his
+hand the reporter sat in thought. He seemed to be asking himself, "Is it
+fish or flesh?" Was it a letter of thanks or of menace? That was what he
+could not decide. Well, he would soon know, for he had decided to
+accept that invitation. Anything that brought him and Natacha into
+communication at the moment was a thing of capital importance to him.
+Half-an-hour later he gave the address of the villa to an isvotchick,
+and soon he stepped out before the gate where Ermolai seemed to be
+waiting for him.
+
+Rouletabille was so occupied by thought of the conversation he was going
+to have with Natacha that he had completely forgotten the excellent
+Monsieur Gounsovski and his invitation.
+
+The reporter found Koupriane's agents making a close-linked chain around
+the grounds and each watching the other. Matrena had not wished any
+agent to be in house. He showed Koupriane's pass and entered.
+
+Ermolai ushered Rouletabille in with shining face. He seemed glad
+to have him there again. He bowed low before him and uttered many
+compliments, of which the reporter did not understand a word.
+Rouletabille passed on, entered the garden and saw Matrena Petrovna there
+walking with her step-daughter. They seemed on the best of terms with
+each other. The grounds wore an air of tranquillity and the residents
+seemed to have totally forgotten the somber tragedy of the other night.
+Matrena and Natacha came smilingly up to the young man, who inquired
+after the general. They both turned and pointed out Feodor Feodorovitch,
+who waved to him from the height of the kiosk, where it seemed the table
+had been spread. They were going to dine out of doors this fine night.
+
+"Everything goes very well, very well indeed, dear little domovoi," said
+Matrena. "How glad it is to see you and thank you. If you only knew how
+I suffered in your absence, I who know how unjust my daughter was to
+you. But dear Natacha knows now what she owes you. She doesn't doubt
+your word now, nor your clear intelligence, little angel. Michael
+Nikolaievitch was a monster and he was punished as he deserved. You know
+the police have proof now that he was one of the Central Revolutionary
+Committee's most dangerous agents. And he an officer! Whom can we trust
+now!"
+
+"And Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, have you seen him since?" inquired
+Rouletabille.
+
+"Boris called to see us to-day, to say good-by, but we did not receive
+him, under the orders of the police. Natacha has written to tell him of
+Koupriane's orders. We have received letters from him; he is quitting
+St. Petersburg.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Well, after the frightful bloody scene in his little house, when he
+learned how Michael Nikolaievitch had found his death, and after he
+himself had undergone a severe grilling from the police, and when he
+learned the police had sacked his library and gone through his papers,
+he resigned, and has resolved to live from now on out in the country,
+without seeing anyone, like the philosopher and poet he is. So far as I
+am concerned, I think he is doing absolutely right. When a young man is
+a poet, it is useless to live like a soldier. Someone has said that,
+I don't know the name now, and when one has ideas that may upset other
+people, surely they ought to live in solitude."
+
+Rouletabille looked at Natacha, who was as pale as her white gown, and
+who added no word to her mother's outburst. They had drawn near the
+kiosk. Rouletabille saluted the general, who called to him to come up
+and, when the young man extended his hand, he drew him abruptly nearer
+and embraced him. To show Rouletabille how active he was getting again,
+Feodor Feodorovitch marched up and down the kiosk with only the aid of a
+stick. He went and came with a sort of wild, furious gayety.
+
+"They haven't got me yet, the dogs. They haven't got me! And one (he was
+thinking of Michael) who saw me every day was here just for that. Very
+well. I ask you where he is now. And yet here I am! An attack! I'm
+always here! But with a good eye; and I begin to have a good leg. We
+shall see. Why, I recollect how, when I was at Tiflis, there was an
+insurrection in the Caucasus. We fought. Several times I could feel the
+swish of bullets past my hair. My comrades fell around me like flies.
+But nothing happened to me, not a thing. And here now! They will not get
+me, they will not get me. You know how they plan now to come to me, as
+living bombs. Yes, they have decided on that. I can't press a friend's
+hand any more without the fear of seeing him explode. What do you think
+of that? But they won't get me. Come, drink my health. A small glass
+of vodka for an appetizer. You see, young man, we are going to have
+zakouskis here. What a marvelous panorama! You can see everything from
+here. If the enemy comes," he added with a singular loud laugh, "we
+can't fail to detect him."
+
+Certainly the kiosk did rise high above the garden and was completely
+detached, no wall being near. They had a clear view. No branches of
+trees hung over the roof and no tree hid the view. The rustic table of
+rough wood was covered with a short cloth and was spread with zakouskis.
+It was a meal under the open sky, a seat and a glass in the clear azure.
+The evening could not have been softer and clearer. And, as the general
+felt so gay, the repast would have promised to be most agreeable, if
+Rouletabille had not noticed that Matrena Petrovna and Natacha were
+uneasy and downcast. The reporter soon saw, too, that all the general's
+joviality was a little excessive. Anyone would have said that Feodor
+Feodorovitch spoke to distract himself, to keep himself from thinking.
+There was sufficient excuse for him after the outrageous drama of the
+other night. Rouletabille noticed further that the general never looked
+at his daughter, even when he spoke to her. There was too formidable
+a mystery lying between them for restraint not to increase day by day.
+Rouletabille involuntarily shook his head, saddened by all he saw. His
+movement was surprised by Matrena Petrovna, who pressed his hand in
+silence.
+
+"Well, now," said the general, "well, now my children, where is the
+vodka?"
+
+Among all the bottles which graced the table the general looked in vain
+for his flask of vodka. How in the world could he dine if he did not
+prepare for that important act by the rapid absorption of two or
+three little glasses of white wine, between two or three sandwiches of
+caviare!
+
+"Ermolai must have left it in the wine-chest," said Matrena.
+
+The wine-closet was in the dining-room. She rose to go there, but
+Natacha hurried before her down the little flight of steps, crying,
+"Stay there, mamma. I will go."
+
+"Don't you bother, either. I know where it is," cried Rouletabille, and
+hurried after Natacha.
+
+She did not stop. The two young people arrived in the dining-room at
+the same time. They were there alone, as Rouletabille had foreseen. He
+stopped Natacha and planted himself in front of her.
+
+"Why, mademoiselle, did you not answer me earlier?"
+
+"Because I don't wish to have any conversation with you."
+
+"If that was so, you would not have come here, where you were sure I
+would follow."
+
+She hesitated, with an emotion that would have been incomprehensible to
+all others perhaps, but was not to Rouletabille.
+
+"Well, yes, I wished to say this to you: Don't write to me any more.
+Don't speak to me. Don't see me. Go away from here, monsieur; go away.
+They will have your life. And if you have found out anything, forget it.
+Ah, on the head of your mother, forget it, or you are lost. That is what
+I wished to tell you. And now, you go."
+
+She grasped his hand in a quick sympathetic movement that she seemed
+instantly to regret.
+
+"You go away," she repeated.
+
+Rouletabille still held his place before her. She turned from him; she
+did not wish to hear anything further.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are watched closer than ever. Who will
+take Michael Nikolaievitch's place?"
+
+"Madman, be silent! Hush!"
+
+"I am here."
+
+He said this with such simple bravery that tears sprang to her eyes.
+
+"Dear man! Poor man! Dear brave man!" She did not know what to say. Her
+emotion checked all utterance. But it was necessary for her to enable
+him to understand that there was nothing he could do to help her in her
+sad straits.
+
+"No. If they knew what you have just said, what you have proposed now,
+you would be dead to-morrow. Don't let them suspect. And above all,
+don't try to see me anywhere. Go back to papa at once. We have been here
+too long. What if they learn of it?--and they learn everything! They are
+everywhere, and have ears everywhere."
+
+"Mademoiselle, just one word more, a single word. Do you doubt now that
+Michael tried to poison your father?"
+
+"Ah, I wish to believe it. I wish to. I wish to believe it for your
+sake, my poor boy."
+
+Rouletabille desired something besides "I wish to believe it for your
+sake, my poor boy." He was far from being satisfied. She saw him turn
+pale. She tried to reassure him while her trembling hands raised the lid
+of the wine-chest.
+
+"What makes me think you are right is that I have decided myself that
+only one and the same person, as you said, climbed to the window of the
+little balcony. Yes, no one can doubt that, and you have reasoned well."
+
+But he persisted still.
+
+"And yet, in spite of that, you are not entirely sure, since you say, 'I
+wish to believe it, my poor boy.'"
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, someone might have tried to poison my father,
+and not have come by way of the window."
+
+"No, that is impossible."
+
+"Nothing is impossible to them."
+
+And she turned her head away again.
+
+"Why, why," she said, with her voice entirely changed and quite
+indifferent, as if she wished to be merely 'the daughter of the house'
+in conversation with the young man, "the vodka is not in the wine chest,
+after all. What has Ermolai done with it, then?"
+
+She ran over to the buffet and found the flask.
+
+"Oh, here it is. Papa shan't be without it, after all."
+
+Rouletabille was already into the garden again.
+
+"If that is the only doubt she has," he said to himself, "I can reassure
+her. No one could come, excepting by the window. And only one came that
+way."
+
+The young girl had rejoined him, bringing the flask. They crossed the
+garden together to the general, who was whiling away the time as he
+waited for his vodka explaining to Matrena Petrovna the nature of "the
+constitution." He had spilt a box of matches on the table and arranged
+them carefully.
+
+"Here," he cried to Natacha and Rouletabille. "Come here and I will
+explain to you as well what this Constitution amounts to."
+
+The young people leaned over his demonstration curiously and all eyes in
+the kiosk were intent on the matches.
+
+"You see that match," said Feodor Feodorovitch. "It is the Emperor. And
+this other match is the Empress; this one is the Tsarevitch; and that
+one is the Grand-duke Alexander; and these are the other granddukes.
+Now, here are the ministers and there the principal governors, and then
+the generals; these here are the bishops."
+
+The whole box of matches was used up, and each match was in its place,
+as is the way in an empire where proper etiquette prevails in government
+and the social order.
+
+"Well," continued the general, "do you want to know, Matrena Petrovna,
+what a constitution is? There! That is the Constitution."
+
+The general, with a swoop of his hand, mixed all the matches.
+Rouletabille laughed, but the good Matrena said:
+
+"I don't understand, Feodor."
+
+"Find the Emperor now."
+
+Then Matrena understood. She laughed heartily, she laughed violently,
+and Natacha laughed also. Delighted with his success, Feodor
+Feodorovitch took up one of the little glasses that Natacha had filled
+with the vodka she brought.
+
+"Listen, my children," said he. "We are going to commence the zakouskis.
+Koupriane ought to have been here before this."
+
+Saying this, holding still the little glass in his hand, he felt in his
+pocket with the other for his watch, and drew out a magnificent large
+watch whose ticking was easily heard.
+
+"Ah, the watch has come back from the repairer," Rouletabille remarked
+smilingly to Matrena Petrovna. "It looks like a splendid one."
+
+"It has very fine works," said the general. "It was bequeathed to me by
+my grandfather. It marks the seconds, and the phases of the moon, and
+sounds the hours and half-hours."
+
+Rouletabille bent over the watch, admiring it.
+
+"You expect M. Koupriane for dinner?" inquired the young man, still
+examining the watch.
+
+"Yes, but since he is so late, we'll not delay any longer. Your healths,
+my children," said the general as Rouletabille handed him back the watch
+and he put it in his pocket.
+
+"Your health, Feodor Feodorovitch," replied Matrena Petrovna, with her
+usual tenderness.
+
+Rouletabille and Natacha only touched their lips to the vodka, but
+Feodor Feodorovitch and Matrena drank theirs in the Russian fashion,
+head back and all at a draught, draining it to the bottom and flinging
+the contents to the back of the throat. They had no more than performed
+this gesture when the general uttered an oath and tried to expel what he
+had drained so heartily. Matrena Petrovna spat violently also, looking
+with horror at her husband.
+
+"What is it? What has someone put in the vodka?" cried Feodor.
+
+"What has someone put in the vodka?" repeated Matrena Petrovna in a
+thick voice, her eyes almost starting from her head.
+
+The two young people threw themselves upon the unfortunates. Feodor's
+face had an expression of atrocious suffering.
+
+"We are poisoned," cried the general, in the midst of his chokings. "I
+am burning inside."
+
+Almost mad, Natacha took her father's head in her hands. She cried to
+him:
+
+"Vomit, papa; vomit!"
+
+"We must find an emetic," cried Rouletabille, holding on to the general,
+who had almost slipped from his arms.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, whose gagging noises were violent, hurried down the
+steps of the kiosk, crossed the garden as though wild-fire were
+behind her, and bounded into the veranda. During this time the general
+succeeded in easing himself, thanks to Rouletabille, who had thrust a
+spoon to the root of his tongue. Natacha could do nothing but cry, "My
+God, my God, my God!" Feodor held onto his stomach, still crying, "I'm
+burning, I'm burning!" The scene was frightfully tragic and funny at the
+same time. To add to the burlesque, the general's watch in his pocket
+struck eight o'clock. Feodor Feodorovitch stood up in a final supreme
+effort. "Oh, it is horrible!" Matrena Petrovna showed a red, almost
+violet face as she came back; she distorted it, she choked, her mouth
+twitched, but she brought something, a little packet that she waved, and
+from which, trembling frightenedly, she shook a powder into the first
+two empty glasses, which were on her side of the table and were those
+she and the general had drained. She still had strength to fill them
+with water, while Rouletabille was almost overcome by the general, whom
+he still had in his arms, and Natacha concerned herself with nothing
+but her father, leaning over him as though to follow the progress of
+the terrible poison, to read in his eyes if it was to be life or death.
+"Ipecac," cried Matrena Petrovna, and she made the general drink it.
+She did not drink until after him. The heroic woman must have exerted
+superhuman force to go herself to find the saving antidote in her
+medicine-chest, even while the agony pervaded her vitals.
+
+Some minutes later both could be considered saved. The servants, Ermolai
+at their head, were clustered about. Most of them had been at the lodge
+and they had not, it appeared, heard the beginning of the affair, the
+cries of Natacha and Rouletabille. Koupriane arrived just then. It was
+he who worked with Natacha in getting the two to bed. Then he directed
+one of his agents to go for the nearest doctors they could find.
+
+This done, the Prefect of Police went toward the kiosk where he had left
+Rouletabille. But Rouletabille was not to be found, and the flask of
+vodka and the glasses from which they had drunk were gone also. Ermolai
+was near-by, and he inquired of the servant for the young Frenchman.
+Ermolai replied that he had just gone away, carrying the flask and the
+glasses. Koupriane swore. He shook Ermolai and even started to give him
+a blow with the fist for permitting such a thing to happen before his
+eyes without making a protest.
+
+Ermolai, who had his own haughtiness, dodged Koupriane's fist and
+replied that he had wished to prevent the young Frenchman, but the
+reporter had shown him a police-paper on which Koupriane himself had
+declared in advance that the young Frenchman was to do anything he
+pleased.
+
+
+
+
+
+XII. PERE ALEXIS
+
+Koupriane jumped into his carriage and hurried toward St. Petersburg.
+On the way he spoke to three agents who only he knew were posted in
+the neighborhood of Eliaguine. They told him the route Rouletabille had
+taken. The reporter had certainly returned into the city. He hurried
+toward Troitski Bridge. There, at the corner of the Naberjnaia,
+Koupriane saw the reporter in a hired conveyance. Rouletabille was
+pounding his coachman in the back, Russian fashion, to make him go
+faster, and was calling with all his strength one of the few words he
+had had time to learn, "Naleva, naleva" (to the left). The driver was
+forced to understand at last, for there was no other way to turn than to
+the left. If he had turned to the right (naprava) he would have driven
+into the river. The conveyance clattered over the pointed flints of a
+neighborhood that led to a little street, Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, at
+the corner of the Katharine canal. This "alley of the pharmacists" as a
+matter of fact contained no pharmacists, but there was a curious sign
+of a herbarium, where Rouletabille made the driver stop. As the carriage
+rolled under the arch Rouletabille recognized Koupriane. He did not
+wait, but cried to him, "Ah, here you are. All right; follow me." He
+still had the flask and the glasses in his hands. Koupriane couldn't
+help noticing how strange he looked. He passed through a court with him,
+and into a squalid shop.
+
+"What," said Koupriane, "do you know Pere Alexis?"
+
+They were in the midst of a curious litter. Clusters of dried herbs hung
+from the ceiling, and all among them were clumps of old boots, shriveled
+skins, battered pans, scrap-iron, sheep-skins, useless touloupes, and on
+the floor musty old clothes, moth-eaten furs, and sheep-skin coats that
+even a moujik of the swamps would not have deigned to wear. Here and
+there were old teeth, ragged finery, dilapidated hats, and jars of
+strange herbs ranged upon some rickety shelving. Between the set of
+scales on the counter and a heap of little blocks of wood used for
+figuring the accounts of this singular business were ungilded ikons,
+oxidized silver crosses, and Byzantine pictures representing scenes from
+the Old and New Testaments. Jars of alcohol with what seemed to be the
+skeletons of frogs swimming in them filled what space was left. In a
+corner of this large, murky room, under the vault of mossed stone, a
+small altar stood and the light burned in a hanging glass of oil before
+the holy images. A man was praying before the altar. He wore the costume
+of old Russia, the caftan of green cloth, buttoned at the shoulder and
+tucked in at the waist by a narrow belt. He had a bushy beard and his
+hair fell to his shoulders. When he had finished his prayer he rose,
+perceived Rouletabille and came over to take his hand. He spoke French
+to the reporter:
+
+"Well, here you are again, lad. Do you bring poison again to-day? This
+will end by being found out, and the police..."
+
+Just then he discerned Koupriane's form in the shadow, drew close
+to make out who it was, and fell to his knees as he saw who it was.
+Rouletabille tried to raise him, but he insisted on prostrating himself.
+He was sure the Prefect of Police had come to his house to hang him.
+Finally he was reassured by Rouletabille's positive assertions and the
+great chief's robust laugh. The Prefect wished to know how the young man
+came to be acquainted with the "alchemist" of the police. Rouletabille
+told him in a few words.
+
+Maitre Alexis, in his youth, went to France afoot, to study pharmacy,
+because of his enthusiasm for chemistry. But he always remained
+countrified, very much a Russian peasant, a semi-Oriental bear, and did
+not achieve his degree. He took some certificates, but the examinations
+were too much for him. For fifty years he lived miserably as a
+pharmacist's assistant in the back of a disreputable shop in the Notre
+Dame quarter. The proprietor of the place was implicated in the famous
+affair of the gold ingots, which started Rouletabille's reputation, and
+was arrested along with his assistant, Alexis. It was Rouletabille who
+proved, clear as day, that poor Alexis was innocent, and that he had
+never been cognizant of his master's evil ways, being absorbed in the
+depths of his laboratory in trying to work out a naive alchemy which
+fascinated him, though the world of chemistry had passed it by centuries
+ago. At the trial Alexis was acquitted, but found himself in the street.
+He shed what tears remained in his body upon the neck of the reporter,
+assuring him of paradise if he got him back to his own country, because
+he desired only the one thing more of life, that he might see his
+birth-land before he died. Rouletabille advanced the necessary means
+and sent him to St. Petersburg. There he was picked up at the end of two
+days by the police, in a petty gambling-game, and thrown into prison,
+where he promptly had a chance to show his talents. He cured some of his
+companions in misery, and even some of the guards. A guard who had an
+injured leg, whose healing he had despaired of, was cured by Alexis.
+Then there was found to be no actual charge against him. They set him
+free and, moreover, they interested themselves in him. They found meager
+employment for him in the Stchoukine-dvor, an immense popular bazaar.
+He accumulated a few roubles and installed himself on his own account
+at the back of a court in the Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he gradually
+piled up a heap of old odds and ends that no one wanted even in the
+Stchoukine-dvor. But he was happy, because behind his shop he had
+installed a little laboratory where he continued for his pleasure his
+experiments in alchemy and his study of plants. He still proposed to
+write a book that he had already spoken of in France to Rouletabille, to
+prove the truth of "Empiric Treatment of Medicinal Herbs, the Science
+of Alchemy, and the Ancient Experiments in Sorcery." Between times
+he continued to cure anyone who applied to him, and the police in
+particular. The police guards protected him and used him. He had
+splendid plasters for them after "the scandal," as they called the
+October riots. So when the doctors of the quarter tried to prosecute him
+for illegal practice, a deputation of police-guards went to Koupriane,
+who took the responsibility and discontinued proceedings against him.
+They regarded him as under protection of the saints, and Alexis soon
+came to be regarded himself as something of a holy man. He never failed
+every Christmas and Easter to send his finest images to Rouletabille,
+wishing him all prosperity and saying that if ever he came to St.
+Petersburg he should be happy to receive him at Aptiekarski-Pereoulok,
+where he was established in honest labor. Pere Alexis, like all the true
+saints, was a modest man.
+
+When Alexis had recovered a little from his emotion Rouletabille said to
+him:
+
+"Pere Alexis, I do bring you poison again, but you have nothing to fear,
+for His Excellency the Chief of Police is with me. Here is what we want
+you to do. You must tell us what poison these four glasses have held,
+and what poison is still in this flask and this little phial."
+
+"What is that little phial?" demanded Koupriane, as he saw Rouletabille
+pull a small, stoppered bottle out of his pocket.
+
+The reporter replied, "I have put into this bottle the vodka that was
+poured into Natacha's glass and mine and that we barely touched."
+
+"Someone has tried to poison you!" exclaimed Pere Alexis.
+
+"No, not me," replied Rouletabille, in bored fashion. "Don't think about
+that. Simply do what I tell you. Then analyze these two napkins, as
+well."
+
+And he drew from his coat two soiled napkins.
+
+"Well," said Koupriane, "you have thought of everything."
+
+"They are the napkins the general and his wife used."
+
+"Yes, yes, I understand that," said the Chief of Police.
+
+"And you, Alexis, do you understand?" asked the reporter. "When can we
+have the result of your analysis?
+
+"In an hour, at the latest."
+
+"Very well," said Koupriane. "Now I need not tell you to hold your
+tongue. I am going to leave one of my men here. You will write us a
+note that you will seal, and he will bring it to head-quarters. Sure you
+understand? In an hour?"
+
+"In an hour, Excellency."
+
+They went out, and Alexis followed them, bowing to the floor. Koupriane
+had Rouletabille get into his carriage. The young man did as he was
+told. One would have said he did not know where he was or what he did.
+He made no reply to the chief's questions.
+
+"This Pere Alexander," resumed Koupriane, "is a character, really quite
+a figure. And a bit of a schemer, I should say. He has seen how Father
+John of Cronstadt succeeded, and he says to himself, 'Since the sailors
+had their Father John of Cronstadt, why shouldn't the police-guard have
+their Father Alexis of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok?'"
+
+But Rouletabille did not reply at all, and Koupriane wound up by
+demanding what was the matter with him.
+
+"The matter is," replied Rouletabille, unable longer to conceal his
+anguish, "that the poison continues."
+
+"Does that astonish you?" returned Koupriane. "It doesn't me."
+
+Rouletabille looked at him and shook his head. His lips trembled as he
+said, "I know what you think. It is abominable. But the thing I have
+done certainly is more abominable still."
+
+"What have you done, then, Monsieur Rouletabille?"
+
+"Perhaps I have caused the death of an innocent man."
+
+"So long as you aren't sure of it, you would better not fret about it,
+my dear friend."
+
+"It is enough that the doubt has arisen," said the reporter, "almost
+to kill me;" and he heaved so gloomy a sigh that the excellent Monsieur
+Koupriane felt pity for the lad. He tapped him on the knee.
+
+"Come, come, young man, you ought to know one thing by this time--'you
+can't make omelettes without breaking eggs,' as they say, I think, in
+Paris."
+
+Rouletabille turned away from him with horror in his heart. If there
+should be another, someone besides Michael! If it was another hand than
+his that appeared to Matrena and him in the mysterious night! If Michael
+Nikolaievitch had been innocent! Well, he would kill himself, that was
+all. And those horrible words that he had exchanged with Natacha rose in
+his memory, singing in his ears as though they would deafen him.
+
+"Do you doubt still?" he had asked her, "that Michael tried to poison
+your father?"
+
+And Natacha had replied, "I wish to believe it! I wish to believe it,
+for your sake, my poor boy." And then he recalled her other words, still
+more frightful now! "Couldn't someone have tried to poison my father
+and not have come by the window?" He had faced such a hypothesis with
+assurance then--but now, now that the poison continued, continued within
+the house, where he believed himself so fully aware of all people and
+things--continued now that Michael Nikolaievitch was dead--ah, where did
+it come from, this poison?--and what was it? Pere Alexis would hurry his
+analysis if he had any regard for poor Rouletabille.
+
+For Rouletabille to doubt, and in an affair where already there was one
+man dead through his agency, was torment worse than death.
+
+When they arrived at police-headquarters, Rouletabille jumped from
+Koupriane's carriage and without saying a word hailed an empty
+isvotchick that was passing. He had himself driven back to Pere Alexis.
+His doubt mastered his will; he could not bear to wait away. Under the
+arch of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok he saw once more the man Koupriane had
+placed there with the order to bring him Alexis's message. The man
+looked at him in astonishment. Rouletabille crossed the court and
+entered the dingy old room once more. Pere Alexis was not there,
+naturally, engaged as he was in his laboratory. But a person whom he did
+not recognize at first sight attracted the reporter's attention. In the
+half-light of the shop a melancholy shadow leaned over the ikons on the
+counter. It was only when he straightened up, with a deep sigh, and a
+little light, deflected and yellow from passing through window-panes
+that had known no touch of cleaning since they were placed there, fell
+faintly on the face, that Rouletabille ascertained he was face to face
+with Boris Mourazoff. It was indeed he, the erstwhile brilliant officer
+whose elegance and charm the reporter had admired as he saw him at
+beautiful Natacha's feet in the datcha at Eliaguine. Now, no more in
+uniform, he had thrown over his bowed shoulders a wretched coat, whose
+sleeves swayed listlessly at his sides, in accord with his mood of
+languid desperation, a felt hat with the rim turned down hid a little
+the misery in his face in these few days, these not-many hours, how he
+was changed! But, even as he was, he still concerned Rouletabille. What
+was he doing there? Was he not going to go away, perhaps? He had picked
+up an ikon from the counter and carried it over to the window to examine
+its oxidized silver, giving such close attention to it that the reporter
+hoped he might reach the door of the laboratory without being noticed.
+He already had his hand on the knob of that door, which was behind the
+counter, when he heard his name called.
+
+"It is you, Monsieur Rouletabille," said the low, sad voice of Boris.
+"What has brought you here, then?"
+
+"Well, well, Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, unless I'm mistaken? I certainly
+didn't expect to find you here in Pere Alexis's place."
+
+"Why not, Monsieur Rouletabille? One can find anything here in Pere
+Alexis's stock. See; here are two old ikons in wood, carved with
+sculptures, which came direct from Athos, and can't be equaled, I assure
+you, either at Gastini-Dvor nor even at Stchoukine-Dvor."
+
+"Yes, yes, that is possible," said Rouletabille, impatiently. "Are you
+an amateur of such things?" he added, in order to say something.
+
+"Oh, like anybody else. But I was going to tell you, Monsieur
+Rouletabille, I have resigned my commission. I have resolved to retire
+from the world; I am going on a long voyage." (Rouletabille thought:
+'Why not have gone at once?') "And before going, I have come here to
+supply myself with some little gifts to send those of my friends I
+particularly care for, although now, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille, I
+don't care much for anything."
+
+"You look desolate enough, monsieur."
+
+Boris sighed like a child.
+
+"How could it be otherwise?" he said. "I loved and believed myself
+beloved. But it proved to be--nothing, alas!"
+
+"Sometimes one only imagines things," said Rouletabille, keeping his
+hand on the door.
+
+"Oh, yes," said the other, growing more and more melancholy. "So a man
+suffers. He is his own tormentor; he himself makes the wheel on which,
+like his own executioner, he binds himself."
+
+"It is not necessary, monsieur; it is not necessary," counseled the
+reporter.
+
+"Listen," implored Boris in a voice that showed tears were not far away.
+"You are still a child, but still you can see things. Do you believe
+Natacha loves me?"
+
+"I am sure of it, Monsieur Boris; I am sure of it."
+
+"I am sure of it, too. But I don't know what to think now. She has let
+me go, without trying to detain me, without a word of hope."
+
+"And where are you going like that?"
+
+"I am returning to the Orel country, where I first saw her."
+
+"That is good, very good, Monsieur Boris. At least there you are sure
+to see her again. She goes there every year with her parents for a few
+weeks. It is a detail you haven't overlooked, doubtless."
+
+"Certainly I haven't. I will tell you that that prospect decided my
+place of retreat."
+
+"See!"
+
+"God gives me nothing, but He opens His treasures, and each takes what
+he can."
+
+"Yes, yes; and Mademoiselle Natacha, does she know it is to Orel you
+have decided to retire?"
+
+"I have no reason for concealing it from her, Monsieur Rouletabille."
+
+"So far so good. You needn't feel so desolate, my dear Monsieur Boris.
+All is not lost. I will say even that I see a future for you full of
+hope."
+
+"Ah, if you are able to say that truthfully, I am happy indeed to have
+met you. I will never forget this rope you have flung me when all the
+waters seemed closing over my head. 'What do you advise, then?"
+
+"I advise you to go to Orel, monsieur, and as quickly as possible."
+
+"Very well. You must have reasons for saying that. I obey you, monsieur,
+and go."
+
+As Boris started towards the entrance-arch, Rouletabille slipped into
+the laboratory. Old Alexis was bent over his retorts. A wretched lamp
+barely lighted his obscure work. He turned at the noise the reporter
+made.
+
+"Ah!-you, lad!"
+
+"'Well?"
+
+"Oh, nothing so quick. Still, I have already analyzed the two napkins,
+you know."
+
+"Yes? The stains? Tell me, for the love of God!"
+
+"Well, my boy, it is arsenate of soda again."
+
+Rouletabille, stricken to the heart, uttered a low cry and everything
+seemed to dance around him. Pere Alexis in the midst of all the strange
+laboratory instruments seemed Satan himself, and he repulsed the kindly
+arms stretched forth to sustain him; in the gloom, where danced here and
+there the little blue flames from the crucibles, lively as flickering
+tongues, he believed he saw Michael Nikolaievitch's ghost come to cry,
+"The arsenate of soda continues, and I am dead." He fell against the
+door, which swung open, and he rolled as far as the counter, and struck
+his face against it. The shock, that might well have been fatal, brought
+him out of his intense nightmare and made him instantly himself again.
+He rose, jumped over the heap of boots and fol-de-rols, and leaped to
+the court. There Boris grabbed him by his coat. Rouletabille turned,
+furious:
+
+"What do you want? You haven't started for the Orel yet?"
+
+"Monsieur, I am going, but I will be very grateful if you will take
+these things yourself to--to Natacha." He showed him, still with
+despairing mien, the two ikons from Mount Athos, and Rouletabille took
+them from him, thrust them in his pocket, and hurried on, crying, "I
+understand."
+
+Outside, Rouletabille tried to get hold of himself, to recover his
+coolness a little. Was it possible that he had made a mortal error?
+Alas, alas, how could he doubt it now! The arsenate of soda continued.
+He made a superhuman effort to ward off the horror of that, even
+momentarily--the death of innocent Michael Nikolaievitch--and to think
+of nothing except the immediate consequences, which must be carefully
+considered if he wished to avoid some new catastrophe. Ah, the assassin
+was not discouraged. And that time, what a piece of work he had tried!
+What a hecatomb if he had succeeded! The general, Matrena Petrovna,
+Natacha and Rouletabille himself (who almost regretted, so far as he
+was concerned, that it had not succeeded)--and Koupriane! Koupriane, who
+should have been there for luncheon. What a bag for the Nihilists!
+That was it, that was it. Rouletabille understood now why they had not
+hesitated to poison everybody at once: Koupriane was among them.
+
+Michael Nikolaievitch would have been avenged!
+
+The attempt had failed this time, but what might they not expect now!
+From the moment he believed Michael Nikolaievitch no longer guilty, as
+he had imagined, Rouletabille fell into a bottomless abyss.
+
+Where should he go? After a few moments he made the circuit of the
+Rotunda, which serves as the market for this quarter and is the finest
+ornament of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok. He made the circuit without knowing
+it, without stopping for anything, without seeing or understanding
+anything. As a broken-winded horse makes its way in the treadmill, so he
+walked around with the thought that he also was lost in a treadmill that
+led him nowhere. Rouletabille was no longer Rouletabille.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII. THE LIVING BOMBS
+
+At random--because now he could only act at random--he returned to the
+datcha. Great disorder reigned there. The guard had been doubled. The
+general's friends, summoned by Trebassof, surrounded the two poisoned
+sufferers and filled the house with their bustling devotion and their
+protestations of affection. However, an insignificant doctor from the
+common quarter of the Vasili-Ostrow, brought by the police, reassured
+everybody. The police had not found the general's household physician at
+home, but promised the immediate arrival of two specialists, whom they
+had found instead. In the meantime they had picked up on the way this
+little doctor, who was gay and talkative as a magpie. He had enough
+to do looking after Matrena Petrovna, who had been so sick that her
+husband, Feodor Feodorovitch, still trembled, "for the first time in his
+life," as the excellent Ivan Petrovitch said.
+
+The reporter was astonished at not finding Natacha either in Matrena's
+apartment or Feodor's. He asked Matrena where her step-daughter was.
+Matrena turned a frightened face toward him. When they were alone, she
+said:
+
+"We do not know where she is. Almost as soon as you left she
+disappeared, and no one has seen her since. The general has asked for
+her several times. I have had to tell him Koupriane took her with him to
+learn the details from her of what happened."
+
+"She is not with Koupriane," said Rouletabille.
+
+"Where is she? This disappearance is more than strange at the moment we
+were dying, when her father--O God! Leave me, my child; I am stifling; I
+am stifling."
+
+Rouletabille called the temporary doctor and withdrew from the chamber.
+He had come with the idea of inspecting the house room by room, corner
+by corner, to make sure whether or not any possibility of entrance
+existed that he had not noticed before, an entrance would-be poisoners
+were continuing to use. But now a new fact confronted him and
+overshadowed everything: the disappearance of Natacha. How he lamented
+his ignorance of the Russian language--and not one of Koupriane's men
+knew French. He might draw something out of Ermolai.
+
+Ermolai said he had seen Natacha just outside the gate for a moment,
+looking up and down the road. Then he had been called to the general,
+and so knew nothing further.
+
+That was all the reporter could gather from the gestures rather than the
+words of the old servant.
+
+An additional difficulty now was that twilight drew on, and it was
+impossible for the reporter to discern Natacha's foot-prints. Was it
+true that the young girl had fled at such a moment, immediately after
+the poisoning, before she knew whether her father and mother were
+entirely out of danger? If Natacha were innocent, as Rouletabille still
+wished to believe, such an attitude was simply incomprehensible. And the
+girl could not but be aware she would increase Koupriane's suspicions.
+The reporter had a vital reason for seeing her immediately, a vital
+reason for all concerned, above all in this moment when the Nihilists
+were culminating their plans, a vital reason for her and for him,
+equally menaced with death, to talk with her and to renew the
+propositions he had made a few minutes before the poisoning and which
+she had not wished to hear him talk about, in fearful pity for him or in
+defiance of him. Where was Natacha? He thought maybe she was trying
+to rejoin Annouchka, and there were reasons for that, both if she were
+innocent and if she were guilty. But where was Annouchka? Who could say!
+Gounsovski perhaps. Rouletabille jumped into an isvo, returning from the
+Point empty, and gave Gounsovski's address. He deigned then to recall
+that he had been invited that same day to dine with the Gounsovskis.
+They would no longer be expecting him. He blamed himself.
+
+They received him, but they had long since finished dinner.
+
+Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski were playing a game of draughts under
+the lamp. Rouletabille as he entered the drawing-room recognized the
+shining, fattish bald head of the terrible man. Gounsovski came to him,
+bowing, obsequious, his fat hands held out. He was presented to Madame
+Gounsovski, who was besprinkled with jewels over her black silk gown.
+She had a muddy skin and magnificent eyes. She also was tentatively
+effusive. "We waited for you, monsieur," she said, smirking timidly,
+with the careful charm of a woman a little along in years who relies
+still on infantine graces. As the recreant young man offered his
+apologies, "Oh, we know you are much occupied, Monsieur Rouletabille.
+My husband said that to me only a moment ago. But he knew you would come
+finally. In the end one always accepts my husband's invitation." She
+said this with a fat smile of importance.
+
+Rouletabille turned cold at this last phrase. He felt actual fear in
+the presence of these two figures, so atrociously commonplace, in their
+horrible, decent little drawing-room.
+
+Madame continued:
+
+"But you have had rather a bad dinner already, through that dreadful
+affair at General Trebassof's. Come into the dining-room." "Ah, so
+someone has told you?" said Rouletabille. "No, no, thanks; I don't need
+anything more. You know what has happened?"
+
+"If you had come to dinner, perhaps nothing would have happened at all,
+you know," said Gounsovski tranquilly, seating himself again on the
+cushions and considering his game of draughts through his glasses.
+"Anyway, congratulations to Koupriane for being away from there through
+his fear."
+
+For Gounsovski there was only Koupriane! The life or death of Trebassof
+did not occupy his mind. Only the acts and movements of the Prefect of
+Police had power to move him. He ordered a waiting-maid who glided into
+the apartment without making more noise than a shadow to bring a small
+stand loaded with zakouskis and bottles of champagne close to the
+game-table, and he moved one of his pawns, saying, "You will permit me?
+This move is mine. I don't wish to lose it."
+
+Rouletabille ventured to lay his hand on the oily, hairy fist which
+extended from a dubious cuff.
+
+"What is this you tell me? How could you have foreseen it?"
+
+"It was easy to foresee everything," replied Gounsovski, offering
+cigars, "to foresee everything from the moment Matiew's place was filled
+by Priemkof."
+
+"Well?" questioned Rouletabille, recalling with some inquietude the
+sight of the whipping in the guards' chapel.
+
+"Well, this Priemkof, between ourselves," (and he bent close to the
+reporter's ear) "is no better, as a police-guard for Koupriane than
+Matiew himself. Very dangerous. So when I learned that he took Matiew's
+place at the datcha des Iles, I thought there was sure to be some
+unfortunate happening. But it was no affair of mine, was it? Koupriane
+would have been able to say to me, 'Mind your own business.' I had gone
+far enough in warning him of the 'living bombs.' They had been denounced
+to us by the same agency that enabled us to seize the two living bombs
+(women, if you please!) who were going to the military tribunal at
+Cronstadt after the rebellion in the fleet. Let him recall that. That
+ought to make him reflect. I am a brave man. I know he speaks ill of me;
+but I don't wish him any harm. The interests of the Empire before all
+else between us! I wouldn't talk to you as I do if I didn't know the
+Tsar honors you with his favor. Then I invited you to dinner. As one
+dines one talks. But you did not come. And, while you were dining down
+there and while Priemkof was on guard at the datcha, that annoying
+affair Madame Gounsovski has spoken about happened."
+
+Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski's
+insistences. He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand of the
+Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering them, for this
+detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which had been dark enough
+for hours and was now deepened by what the other had just said. He
+comprehended only one thing, that a man named Priemkof, whom he had
+never heard spoken of, as determined as Matiew to destroy the general,
+had been entrusted by Koupriane with the guard of the datcha des Iles.
+It was necessary to warn Koupriane instantly.
+
+"How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur
+Gounsovski? Why wait to speak about it to me? It is unimaginable."
+
+"Pardon, pardon," said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his goggles;
+"it is not the same thing."
+
+"No, no, it is not the same thing," seconded the lady with the black
+silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin. "We speak here to a friend in
+the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the police. We
+never denounce anybody."
+
+"We must tell you. But sit down now," Gounsovski still insisted,
+lighting his cigar. "Be reasonable. They have just tried to poison him,
+so they will take time to breathe before they try something else. Then,
+too, this poison makes me think they may have given up the idea of
+living bombs. Then, after all, what is to be will be."
+
+"Yes, yes," approved the ample dame. "The police never have been able
+to prevent what was bound to happen. But, speaking of this Priemkof, it
+remains between us, eh? Between just us?"
+
+"Yes, we must tell you now," Gounsovski slipped in softly, "that it will
+be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the information
+from me. Because then, you understand, he would not believe you; or,
+rather, he would not believe me. That is why we take these precautions
+of dining and smoking a cigar. We speak of one thing and another and
+you do as you please with what we say. But, to make them useful, it is
+absolutely necessary, I repeat, to be silent about their source." (As
+he said that, Gounsovski gave Rouletabille a piercing glance through his
+goggles, the first time Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes.
+He never would have suspected him capable of such fire.) "Priemkof,"
+continued Gounsovski in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously,
+"was employed here in my home and we separated on bad terms, through his
+fault, it is necessary to say. Then he got into Koupriane's confidence
+by saying the worst he could of us, my dear little monsieur."
+
+"But what could he say?--servants' stories! my dear little monsieur,"
+repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent black eyes
+furiously. "Stories that have been treated as they deserved at Court,
+certainly. Madame Daquin, the wife of His Majesty's head-cook, whom
+you certainly know, and the nephew of the second Maid of Honor to the
+Empress, who stands very well with his aunt, have told us so; servants'
+stories that might have ruined us but have not produced any effect on
+His Majesty, for whom we would give our lives, Christ knows. Well,
+you understand now that if you were to say to Koupriane, 'Gaspadine
+Gounsovski has spoken ill to me of Priemkof,' he would not care to hear
+a word further. Still, Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs,
+that is all I can tell you; at least, he was before the affair of the
+poisoning. That poisoning is certainly very astonishing, between us. It
+does not appear to have come from without, whereas the living bombs will
+have to come from without. And Priemkof is mixed up in it."
+
+"Yes, yes," approved Madame Gounsovski again, "he is committed to it.
+There have been stories about him, too. Other people as well as he can
+tell tales; it isn't hard to do. He has got to make some showing now if
+he is to keep in with Annouchka's clique."
+
+"Koupriane, our dear Koupriane," interrupted Gounsovski, slightly
+troubled at hearing his wife pronounce Annouchka's name, "Koupriane
+ought to be able to understand that this time Priemkof must bring things
+off, or he is definitely ruined."
+
+"Priemkof knows it well enough," replied Madame as she re-filled the
+glasses, "but Koupriane doesn't know it; that is all we can tell you. Is
+it enough? All the rest is mere gossip."
+
+It certainly was enough for Rouletabille; he had had enough of it! This
+idle gossip and these living bombs! These pinchbecks, these
+whispering tale-tellers in their bourgeois, countrified setting; these
+politico-police combinations whose grotesque side was always uppermost;
+while the terrible side, the Siberian aspect, prisons, black holes,
+hangings, disappearances, exiles and deaths and martyrdoms remained
+so jealously hidden that no one ever spoke of them! All that weight of
+horror, between a good cigar and "a little glass of anisette, monsieur,
+if you won't take champagne." Still, he had to drink before he
+left, touch glasses in a health, promise to come again, whenever he
+wished--the house was open to him. Rouletabille knew it was open to
+anybody--anybody who had a tale to tell, something that would send
+some other person to prison or to death and oblivion. No guard at the
+entrance to check a visitor--men entered Gounsovski's house as the house
+of a friend, and he was always ready to do you a service, certainly!
+
+He accompanied the reporter to the stairs. Rouletabille was just about
+to risk speaking of Annouchka to him, in order to approach the subject
+of Natacha, when Gounsovski said suddenly, with a singular smile:
+
+"By the way, do you still believe in Natacha Trebassof?"
+
+"I shall believe in her until my death," Rouletabille thrust back; "but
+I admit to you that at this moment I don't know where she has gone."
+
+"Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and come to tell me to-morrow if you will
+believe in her always," replied Gounsovski, confidentially, with a
+horrid sort of laugh that made the reporter hurry down the stairs.
+
+And now here was Priemkof to look after! Priemkof after Matiew!
+It seemed to the young man that he had to contend against all the
+revolutionaries not only, but all the Russian police as well--and
+Gounsovski himself, and Koupriane! Everybody, everybody! But most
+urgent was Priemkof and his living bombs. What a strange and almost
+incomprehensible and harassing adventure this was between Nihilism and
+the Russian police. Koupriane and Gounsovski both employed a man they
+knew to be a revolutionary and the friend of revolutionaries. Nihilism,
+on its side, considered this man of the police force as one of its
+own agents. In his turn, this man, in order to maintain his perilous
+equilibrium, had to do work for both the police and the revolutionaries,
+and accept whatever either gave him to do as it came, because it
+was necessary he should give them assurances of his fidelity. Only
+imbeciles, like Gapone, let themselves be hanged or ended by being
+executed, like Azef, because of their awkward slips. But a Priemkof,
+playing both branches of the police, had a good chance of living a long
+time, and a Gounsovski would die tranquilly in his bed with all the
+solaces of religion.
+
+However, the young hearts hot with sincerity, sheathed with dynamite,
+are mysteriously moved in the atrocious darkness of Holy Russia, and
+they do not know where they will be sent, and it is all one to them,
+because all they ask is to die in a mad spiritual delirium of hate
+and love--living bombs!*
+
+     * In the trial after the revolt at Cronstadt two young women
+     were charged with wearing bombs as false bosoms.
+
+At the corner of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok Rouletabille came in the way
+of Koupriane, who was leaving for Pere Alexis's place and, seeing the
+reporter, stopped his carriage and called that he was going immediately
+to the datcha.
+
+"You have seen Pere Alexis?"
+
+"Yes," said Koupriane. "And this time I have it on you. What I told you,
+what I foresaw, has happened. But have you any news of the sufferers?
+Apropos, rather a curious thing has happened. I met Kister on the Nevsky
+just now."
+
+"The physician?"
+
+"Yes, one of Trebassof's physicians whom I had sent an inspector to his
+house to fetch to the datcha, as well as his usual associate, Doctor
+Litchkof. Well, neither Litchkof nor he had been summoned. They
+didn't know anything had happened at the datcha. They had not seen my
+inspector. I hope he has met some other doctor on the way and, in view
+of the urgency, has taken him to the datcha."
+
+"That is what has happened," replied Rouletabille, who had turned very
+pale. "Still, it is strange these gentlemen had not been notified,
+because at the datcha the Trebassofs were told that the general's usual
+doctors were not at home and so the police had summoned two others who
+would arrive at once."
+
+Koupriane jumped up in the carriage.
+
+"But Kister and Litchkof had not left their houses. Kister, who had just
+met Litchkof, said so. What does this mean?"
+
+"Can you tell me," asked Rouletabille, ready now for the thunder-clap
+that his question invited, "the name of the inspector you ordered to
+bring them?"
+
+"Priemkof, a man with my entire confidence."
+
+Koupriane's carriage rushed toward the Isles. Late evening had come.
+Alone on the deserted route the horses seemed headed for the stars; the
+carriage behind seemed no drag upon them. The coachman bent above them,
+arms out, as though he would spring into the ether. Ah, the beautiful
+night, the lovely, peaceful night beside the Neva, marred by the wild
+gallop of these maddened horses!
+
+"Priemkof! Priemkof! One of Gounsovski's men! I should have suspected
+him," railed Koupriane after Rouletabille's explanations. "But now,
+shall we arrive in time?"
+
+They stood up in the carriage, urging the coachman, exciting the horses:
+"Scan! Scan! Faster, douriak!" Could they arrive before the "living
+bombs"? Could they hear them before they arrived? Ah, there was
+Eliaguine!
+
+They rushed from the one bank to the other as though there were no
+bridges in their insensate course. And their ears were strained for the
+explosion, for the abomination now to come, preparing slyly in the night
+so hypocritically soft under the cold glance of the stars. Suddenly,
+"Stop, stop!" Rouletabille cried to the coachman.
+
+"Are you mad!" shouted Koupriane.
+
+"We are mad if we arrive like madmen. That would make the catastrophe
+sure. There is still a chance. If we wish not to lose it, then we must
+arrive easily and calmly, like friends who know the general is out of
+danger."
+
+"Our only chance is to arrive before the bogus doctors. Either they
+aren't there, or it already is all over. Priemkof must have been
+surprised at the affair of the poisoning, but he has seized the
+opportunity; fortunately he couldn't find his accomplices immediately."
+
+"Here is the datcha, anyway. In the name of heaven, tell your driver to
+stop the horses here. If the 'doctors' are already there it is we who
+shall have killed the general."
+
+"You are right."
+
+Koupriane moderated his excitement and that of his driver and horses,
+and the carriage stopped noiselessly, not far from the datcha. Ermolai
+came toward them.
+
+"Priemkof?" faltered Koupriane.
+
+"He has gone again, Excellency."
+
+"How--gone again?"
+
+"Yes, but he has brought the doctors."
+
+Koupriane crushed Rouletabille's wrist. The doctors were there!
+
+"Madame Trebassof is better," continued Ermolai, who understood nothing
+of their emotion. "The general is going to meet them and take them to
+his wife himself."
+
+"Where are they?"
+
+"They are waiting in the drawing-room."
+
+"Oh, Excellency, keep cool, keep cool, and all is not lost," implored
+the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille and Koupriane slipped carefully into the garden. Ermolai
+followed them.
+
+"There?" inquired Koupriane.
+
+"There," Ermolai replied.
+
+From the corner where they were, and looking through the veranda, they
+could see the "doctors" as they waited.
+
+They were seated in chairs side by side, in a corner of the drawing-room
+from where they could see every-thing in the room and a part of the
+garden, which they faced, and could hear everything. A window of the
+first-floor was open above their heads, so that they could hear any
+noise from there. They could not be surprised from any side, and they
+held every door in view. They were talking softly and tranquilly,
+looking straight before them. They appeared young. One had a pleasant
+face, pale but smiling, with rather long, curly hair; the other was more
+angular, with haughty bearing and grave face, an eagle nose and glasses.
+Both wore long black coats buttoned over their calm chests.
+
+Koupriane and the reporter, followed by Ermolai, advanced with the
+greatest precaution across the lawn. Screened by the wooden steps
+leading to the veranda and by the vine-clad balustrade, they got near
+enough to hear them. Koupriane gave eager ear to the words of these two
+young men, who might have been so rich in the many years of life that
+naturally belonged to them, and who were about to die so horrible a
+death in destroying all about them. They spoke of what time it was, of
+the softness of the night and the beauty of the sky; they spoke of the
+shadows under the birch-trees, of the gulf shining in the late evening's
+fading golden light, of the river's freshness and the sweetness of
+springtime in the North. That is what they talked about. Koupriane
+murmured, "The assassins!"
+
+Now it was necessary to decide on action, and that necessity was
+horrible. A false movement, an awkwardness, and the "doctors" would be
+warned, and everything lost. They must have the bombs under their coats;
+there were certainly at least two "living bombs." Their chests, as
+they breathed, must heave to and fro and their hearts beat against an
+impending explosion.
+
+Above on the bedroom floor, they heard the rapid arranging of the room,
+steps on the floor and a confusion of voices; shadows passed across the
+window-space. Koupriane rapidly interrogated Ermolai and learned that
+all the general's friends were there. The two doctors had arrived only
+a couple of minutes before the Prefect of Police and the reporter.
+The little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow had already gone, saying there was
+nothing more for him to do when two such celebrated specialists had
+arrived. However, in spite of their celebrity, no one had ever heard the
+names they gave. Koupriane believed the little doctor was an accomplice.
+The most necessary thing was to warn those in the room above. There was
+immediate danger that someone would come downstairs to find the doctors
+and take them to the general, or that the general would come down
+himself to meet them. Evidently that was what they were waiting for.
+They wished to die in his arms, to make sure that this time he did not
+escape them! Koupriane directed Ermolai to go into the veranda and speak
+in a commonplace way to them at the threshold of the drawing-room door,
+saying that he would go upstairs and see if he might now escort them
+to Madame Trebassof's room. Once in the room above, he could warn the
+others not to do anything but wait for Koupriane; then Ermolai was to
+come down and say to the men, "In just a moment, if you please."
+
+Ermolai crept back as far as the lodge, and then came quite normally up
+the path, letting the gravel crunch under his countrified footsteps.
+He was an intelligent man, and grasped with extraordinary coolness the
+importance of the plan of campaign. Easily and naturally he mounted the
+veranda steps, paused at the threshold of the drawing-room, made the
+remark he had been told to make, and went upstairs. Koupriane and
+Rouletabille now watched the bedroom windows. The flitting shadows there
+suddenly became motionless. All moving about ceased; no more steps were
+heard, nothing. And that sudden silence made the two "doctors" raise
+their faces toward the ceiling. Then they exchanged an aroused glance.
+This change in the manner of things above was dangerous. Koupriane
+muttered, "The idiots!" It was such a blow for those upstairs to learn
+they walked over a mine ready to explode that it evidently had paralyzed
+their limbs. Happily Ermolai came down almost immediately and said to
+the "doctors" in his very best domestic manner:
+
+"Just a second, messieurs, if you please."
+
+He did it still with utter naturalness. And he returned to the ledge
+before he rejoined Koupriane and Rouletabille by way of the lawn.
+Rouletabille, entirely cool, quite master of himself, as calm now as
+Koupriane was nervous, said to the Prefect of Police:
+
+"We must act now, and quickly. They are commencing to be suspicious.
+Have you a plan?"
+
+"Here is all I can see," said Koupriane. "Have the general come down by
+the narrow servants' stairway, and slip out of the house from the window
+of Natacha's sitting-room, with the aid of a twisted sheet. Matrena
+Petrovna will come to speak to them during this time; that will keep
+them patient until the general is out of danger. As soon as Matrena has
+withdrawn into the garden, I will call my men, who will shoot them from
+a distance."
+
+"And the house itself? And the general's friends?"
+
+"Let them try to get away, too, by the servants' stairway and jump from
+the window after the general. We must try something. Say that I have
+them at the muzzle of my revolver."
+
+"Your plan won't work," said Rouletabille, "unless the door of Natacha's
+sitting-room that opens on the drawing-room is closed."
+
+"It is. I can see from here."
+
+"And unless the door of the little passage-way before that staircase
+that opens into the drawing-room is closed also, and you cannot see it
+from here."
+
+"That door is open," said Ermolai.
+
+Koupriane swore. But he recovered himself promptly.
+
+"Madame Trebassof will close the door when she speaks to them."
+
+"It's impracticable," said the reporter. "That will arouse their
+suspicions more than ever. Leave it to me; I have a plan."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I have time to execute it, but not to tell you about it. They have
+already waited too long. I shall have to go upstairs, though. Ermolai
+will need to go with me, as with a friend of the family."
+
+"I'll go too."
+
+"That would give the whole show away, if they saw you, the Prefect of
+Police."
+
+"Why, no. If they see me--and they know I ought to be there--as soon
+as I show myself to them they will conclude I don't know anything about
+it."
+
+"You are wrong."
+
+"It is my duty. I should be near the general to defend him until the
+last."
+
+Rouletabille shrugged his shoulders before this dangerous heroism, but
+he did not stop to argue. He knew that his plan must succeed at once,
+or in five minutes at the latest there would be only ruins, the dead and
+the dying in the datcha des Iles.
+
+Still he remained astonishingly calm. In principle he had admitted that
+he was going to die. The only hope of being saved which remained to them
+rested entirely upon their keeping perfectly cool and upon the patience
+of the living bombs. Would they still have three minutes' patience?
+
+Ermolai went ahead of Koupriane and Rouletabille. At the moment they
+reached the foot of the veranda steps the servant said loudly, repeating
+his lesson:
+
+"Oh, the general is waiting for you, Excellency. He told me to have you
+come to him at once. He is entirely well and Madame Trebassof also."
+
+When they were in the veranda, he added:
+
+"She is to see also, at once, these gentlemen, who will be able to tell
+her there is no more danger."
+
+And all three passed while Koupriane and Rouletabille vaguely saluted
+the two conspirators in the drawing-room. It was a decisive moment.
+Recognizing Koupriane, the two Nihilists might well believe themselves
+discovered, as the reporter had said, and precipitate the catastrophe.
+However, Ermolai, Koupriane and Rouletabille climbed the stairs to the
+bedroom like automatons, not daring to look behind them, and expecting
+the end each instant. But neither stirred. Ermolai went down again, by
+Rouletabille's order, normally, naturally, tranquilly. They went into
+Matrena Petrovna's chamber. Everybody was there. It was a gathering of
+ghosts.
+
+Here was what had happened above. That the "doctors" still remained
+below, that they had not been received instantly, in brief, that the
+catastrophe had been delayed up to now was due to Matrena Petrovna,
+whose watchful love, like a watch-dog, was always ready to scent danger.
+These two "doctors" whose names she did not know, who arrived so late,
+and the precipitate departure of the little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow
+aroused her watchfulness. Before allowing them to come upstairs to the
+general she resolved to have a look at them herself downstairs. She
+arose from her bed for that; and now her presentiment was justified.
+When she saw Ermolai, sober and mysterious, enter with Koupriane's
+message, she knew instinctively, before he spoke, that there were bombs
+in the house. When Ermolai did speak it was a blow for everybody. At
+first she, Matrena Perovna, had been a frightened, foolish figure in
+the big flowered dressing-gown belonging to Feodor that she had wrapped
+about her in her haste. When Ermolai left, the general, who knew she
+only trembled for him, tried to reassure her, and, in the midst of
+the frightened silence of all of them, said a few words recalling
+the failure of all the previous attempts. But she shook her head and
+trembled, shaking with fear for him, in agony at the thought that she
+could do nothing there above those living bombs but wait for them to
+burst. As to the friends, already their limbs were ruined, absolutely
+ruined, in very truth. For a moment they were quite incapable of moving.
+The jolly Councilor of Empire, Ivan Petrovitch, had no longer a lively
+tale to tell, and the abominable prospect of "this horrible mix-up"
+right at hand rendered him much less gay than in his best hours at
+Cubat's place. And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff was whiter than the
+snow that covers old Lithuania's fields when the winter's chase is on.
+Athanase Georgevitch himself was not brilliant, and his sanguine face
+had quite changed, as though he had difficulty in digesting his last
+masterpiece with knife and fork. But, in justice to them, that was
+the first instantaneous effect. No one could learn like that, all of
+a sudden, that they were about to die in an indiscriminate slaughter
+without the heart being stopped for a little. Ermolai's words had turned
+these amiable loafers into waxen statues, but, little by little, their
+hearts commenced to beat again and each suggested some way of preventing
+the disaster--all of them sufficiently incoherent--while Matrena
+Petrovna invoked the Virgin and at the same time helped Feodor
+Feodorovitch adjust his sword and buckle his belt; for the general
+wished to die in uniform.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch, his eyes sticking out of his head and his body
+bent as though he feared the Nihlists just below him might perceive his
+tall form--through the floor, no doubt--proposed that they should throw
+themselves out of the window, even at the cost of broken legs. The
+saddened Councilor of Empire declared that project simply idiotic, for
+as they fell they would be absolutely at the disposal of the Nihilists,
+who would be attracted by the noise and would make a handful of dust of
+them with a single gesture through the window. Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff,
+who couldn't think of anything at all, blamed Koupriane and the rest of
+the police for not having devised something. Why hadn't they already got
+rid of these Nihilists? After the frightened silence they had kept at
+first, now they all spoke at once, in low voices, hoarse and rapid, with
+shortened breath, making wild movements of the arms and head, and walked
+here and there in the chamber quite without motive, but very softly on
+tiptoe, going to the windows, returning, listening at the doors, peering
+through the key-holes, exchanging absurd suggestions, full of the
+wildest imaginings. "If we should... if... if,"--everybody speaking and
+everybody making signs for the others to be quiet. "Lower! If they hear
+us, we are lost." And Koupriane, who did not come, and his police, who
+themselves had brought two assassins into the house, and were not
+able now to make them leave without having everybody jump! They were
+certainly lost. There was nothing left but to say their prayers. They
+turned to the general and Matrena Petrovna, who were wrapped in a close
+embrace. Feodor had taken the poor disheveled head of the good Matrena
+between his hands and pressed it upon his shoulders as he embraced her.
+He said, "Rest quietly against my heart, Matrena Petrovna. Nothing can
+happen to us except what God wills."
+
+At that sight and that remark the others grew ashamed of their
+confusion. The harmony of that couple embracing in the presence of death
+restored them to themselves, to their courage, and their "Nitchevo."
+Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch and Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff
+repeated after Matrena Petrovna, "As God wills." And then they said
+"Nitchevo! Nitchevo!* We will all die with you, Feodor Feodorovitch."
+And they all kissed one another and clasped one another in their arms,
+their eyes dim with love one for another, as at the end of a great
+banquet when they had eaten and drunk heavily in honor of one another.
+
+    * "What does it matter!"
+
+"Listen. Someone is coming up the stairs," whispered Matrena, with her
+keen ear, and she slipped from the restraint of her husband.
+
+Breathless, they all hurried to the door opening on the landing, but
+with steps as light "as though they walked on eggs." All four of them
+were leaning over there close by the door, hardly daring to breathe.
+They heard two men on the stairs. Were they Koupriane and Rouletabille,
+or were they the others? They had revolvers in their hands and drew back
+a little when the footsteps sounded near the door. Behind them Trebassof
+was quietly seated in his chair. The door was opened and Koupriane and
+Rouletabille perceived these death-like figures, motionless and mute.
+No one dared to speak or make a movement until the door had been closed.
+But then:
+
+"Well? Well? Save us! Where are they? Ah, my dear little domovoi-doukh,
+save the general, for the love of the Virgin!"
+
+"Tsst! tsst! Silence."
+
+Rouletabille, very pale, but calm, spoke:
+
+"The plan is simple. They are between the two staircases, watching the
+one and the other. I will go and find them and make them mount the one
+while you descend by the other."
+
+"Caracho! That is simple enough. Why didn't we think of it sooner?
+Because everybody lost his head except the dear little domovoi-doukh!"
+
+But here something happened Rouletabille had not counted on. The general
+rose and said, "You have forgotten one thing, my young friend; that is
+that General Trebassof will not descend by the servants' stairway."
+
+His friends looked at him in stupefaction, and asked if he had gone mad.
+
+"What is this you say, Feodor?" implored Matrena.
+
+"I say," insisted the general, "that I have had enough of this comedy,
+and that since Monsieur Koupriane has not been able to arrest these men,
+and since, on their side, they don't seem to decide to do their duty, I
+shall go myself and put them out of my house."
+
+He started a few steps, but had not his cane and suddenly he tottered.
+Matrena Petrovna jumped to him and lifted him in her arms as though he
+were a feather.
+
+"Not by the servants' stairway, not by the servants' stairway," growled
+the obstinate general.
+
+"You will go," Matrena replied to him, "by the way I take you."
+
+And she carried him back into the apartment while she said quickly to
+Rouletabille:
+
+"Go, little domovoi! And God protect us!"
+
+Rouletabille disappeared at once through the door to the main staircase,
+and the group attended by Koupriane, passed through the dressing-room
+and the general's chamber, Matrena Petrovna in the lead with her
+precious burden. Ivan Petrovitch had his hand already on the famous bolt
+which locked the door to the servants' staircase when they all turned at
+the sound of a quick step behind them. Rouletabille had returned.
+
+"They are no longer in the drawing-room."
+
+"Not in the drawing-room! Where are they, then?"
+
+Rouletabille pointed to the door they were about to open.
+
+"Perhaps behind that door. Take care!"
+
+All drew back.
+
+"But Ermolai ought to know where they are," exclaimed Koupriane.
+"Perhaps they have gone, finding out they were discovered."
+
+"They have assassinated Ermolai."
+
+"Assassinated Ermolai!"
+
+"I have seen his body lying in the middle of the drawing-room as I
+leaned over the top of the banister. But they were not in the room, and
+I was afraid you would run into them, for they may well be hidden in the
+servants' stairway."
+
+"Then open the window, Koupriane, and call your men to deliver us."
+
+"I am quite willing," replied Koupriane coldly, "but it is the signal
+for our deaths."
+
+"Well, why do they wait so to make us die?" muttered Feodor
+Feodorovitch. "I find them very tedious about it, for myself. What are
+you doing, Ivan Petrovitch?"
+
+The spectral figure of Ivan Petrovitch, bent beside the door of the
+stairway, seemed to be hearing things the others could not catch, but
+which frightened them so that they fled from the general's chamber in
+disorder. Ivan Petrovitch was close on them, his eyes almost sticking
+from his head, his mouth babbling:
+
+"They are there! They are there!"
+
+Athanase Georgevitch open a window wildly and said:
+
+"I am going to jump."
+
+But Thaddeus Tchitchnikofl' stopped him with a word. "For me, I shall
+not leave Feodor Feodorovitch."
+
+Athanase and Ivan both felt ashamed, and trembling, but brave, they
+gathered round the general and said, "We will die together, we will die
+together. We have lived with Feodor Feodorovitch, and we will die with
+him."
+
+"What are they waiting for? What are they waiting for?" grumbled the
+general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna's teeth chattered. "They are waiting for us to go
+down," said Koupraine.
+
+"Very well, let us do it. This thing must end," said Feodor.
+
+"Yes, yes," they all said, for the situation was becoming intolerable;
+"enough of this. Go on down. Go on down. God, the Virgin and Saints
+Peter and Paul protect us. Let us go."
+
+The whole group, therefore, went to the main staircase, with the
+movements of drunken men, fantastic waving of the arms, mouths
+speaking all together, saying things no one but themselves understood.
+Rouletabille had already hurriedly preceded them, was down the
+staircase, had time to throw a glance into the drawing-room, stepped
+over Ermolai's huge corpse, entered Natacha's sitting-room and her
+chamber, found all these places deserted and bounded back into the
+veranda at the moment the others commenced to descend the steps around
+Feodor Feodorovitch. The reporter's eyes searched all the dark corners
+and had perceived nothing suspicious when, in the veranda, he moved a
+chair. A shadow detached itself from it and glided under the staircase.
+Rouletabille cried to the group on the stairs.
+
+"They are under the staircase!"
+
+Then Rouletabille confronted a sight that he could never forget all his
+life.
+
+At this cry, they all stopped, after an instinctive move to go back.
+Feodor Feodorovitch, who was still in Matrena Petrovna's arms, cried:
+
+"Vive le Tsar!"
+
+And then, those whom the reporter half expected to see flee, distracted,
+one way and another, or to throw themselves madly from the height of the
+steps, abandoning Feodor and Matrena, gathered themselves instead by
+a spontaneous movement around the general, like a guard of honor, in
+battle, around the flag. Koupriane marched ahead. And they insisted
+also upon descending the terrible steps slowly, and sang the Bodje tsara
+Krani, the national anthem!
+
+With an overwhelming roar, which shocked earth and sky and the ears of
+Rouletabille, the entire house seemed lifted in the air; the staircase
+rose amid flame and smoke, and the group which sang the Bodje tsara
+Krani disappeared in a horrible apotheosis.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV. THE MARSHES
+
+They ascertained the next day that there had been two explosions, almost
+simultaneous, one under each staircase. The two Nihilists, when
+they felt themselves discovered, and watched by Ermolai, had thrown
+themselves silently on him as he turned his back in passing them, and
+strangled him with a piece of twine. Then they separated each to watch
+one of the staircases, reasoning that Koupriane and General Trebassof
+would have to decide to descend.
+
+The datcha des Iles was nothing now but a smoking ruin. But from the
+fact that the living bombs had exploded separately the destructive
+effect was diffused, and although there were numerous wounded, as in the
+case of the attack on the Stolypine datcha, at least no one was killed
+outright; that is, excepting the two Nihilists, of whom no trace could
+be found save a few rags.
+
+Rouletabille had been hurled into the garden and he was glad enough to
+escape so, a little shaken, but without a scratch. The group composed of
+Feodor and his friends were strangely protected by the lightness of the
+datcha's construction. The iron staircase, which, so to speak, almost
+hung to the two floors, being barely attached at top and bottom, raised
+under them and then threw them off as it broke into a thousand pieces,
+but only after, by its very yielding, it had protected them from the
+first force of the bomb. They had risen from the ruins without mortal
+wounds. Koupriane had a hand badly burned, Athanase Georgevitch had his
+nose and cheeks seriously hurt, Ivan Petrovitch lost an ear; the most
+seriously injured was Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, both of whose legs were
+broken. Extraordinarily enough, the first person who appeared, rising
+from the midst of the wreckage, was Matrena Petrovna, still holding
+Feodor in her arms. She had escaped with a few burns and the general,
+saved again by the luck of the soldier whom Death does not want, was
+absolutely uninjured. Feodor gave shouts of joy. They strove to quiet
+him, because, after all, around him some poor wretches had been badly
+hurt, as well as poor Ermolai, who lay there dead. The domestics in the
+basement had been more seriously wounded and burned because the main
+force of the explosion had gone downwards; which had probably saved the
+personages above.
+
+Rouletabille had been taken with the other victims to a neighboring
+datcha; but as soon as he had shaken himself free of that terrible
+nightmare he escaped from the place. He really regretted that he was not
+dead. These successive waves of events had swamped him; and he accused
+himself alone of all this disaster. With acutest anxiety he had inquired
+about the condition of each of "his victims." Feodor had not been
+wounded, but now he was almost delirious, asking every other minute as
+the hours crept on for Natacha, who had not reappeared. That unhappy
+girl Rouletabille had steadily believed innocent. Was she a culprit?
+"Ah, if she had only chosen to! If she had had confidence," he cried,
+raising anguished hands towards heaven, "none of all this need have
+happened. No one would have attacked and no one would ever again attack
+the life of Trebassof. For I was not wrong in claiming before Koupriane
+that the general's life was in my hand, and I had the right to say
+to him, 'Life for life! Give me Matiew's and I will give you the
+general's.' And now there has been one more fruitless attempt to kill
+Feodor Feodorovitch and it is Natacha's fault--that I swear, because
+she would not listen to me. And is Natacha implicated in it? O my God"
+Rouletabille asked this vain question of the Divinity, for he expected
+no more help in answering it on earth.
+
+Natacha! Innocent or guilty, where was she? What was she doing? to know
+that! To know if one were right or wrong--and if one were wrong, to
+disappear, to die!
+
+Thus the unhappy Rouletabille muttered as he walked along the bank of
+the Neva, not far from the ruins of the poor datcha, where the joyous
+friends of Feodor Feodorovitch would have no more good dinners, never;
+so he soliloquized, his head on fire.
+
+And, all at once, he recovered trace of the young girl, that trace lost
+earlier, a trace left at her moment of flight, after the poisoning and
+before the explosion. And had he not in that a terrible coincidence?
+Because the poison might well have been only in preparation for the
+final attack, the pretext for the tragic arrival of the two false
+doctors. Natacha, Natacha, the living mystery surrounded already by so
+many dead!
+
+Not far from the ruins of the datcha Rouletabille soon made sure that a
+group of people had been there the night before, coming from the woods
+near-by, and returning to them. He was able to be sure of this because
+the boundaries of the datcha had been guarded by troops and police as
+soon as the explosion took place, under orders to keep back the crowd
+that hurried to Eliaguine. He looked attentively at the grass, the
+ferns, the broken and trampled twigs. Certainly a struggle had occurred
+there. He could distinguish clearly in the soft earth of a narrow glade
+the prints of Natacha's two little boots among all the large footprints.
+
+He continued his search with his heart heavier and heavier, he had a
+presentiment that he was on the point of discovering a new misfortune.
+The footprints passed steadily under the branches along the side of the
+Neva. From a bush he picked a shred of white cloth, and it seemed to
+him a veritable battle had taken place there. Torn branches strewed the
+grass. He went on. Very close to the bank he saw by examination of the
+soil, where there was no more trace of tiny heels and little soles,
+that the woman who had been found there was carried, and carried, into a
+boat, of which the place of fastening to the bank was still visible.
+
+"They have carried off Natacha," he cried in a surge of anguish.
+"bungler that I am, that is my fault too--all my fault--all my fault!
+They wished to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch's death, for which they hold
+Natacha responsible, and they have kidnapped her."
+
+His eyes searched the great arm of the river for a boat. The river was
+deserted. Not a sail, nothing visible on the dead waters! "What shall I
+do? What shall I do? I must save her."
+
+He resumed his course along the river. Who could give him any useful
+information? He drew near a little shelter occupied by a guard. The
+guard was speaking to an officer. Perhaps he had noticed something
+during his watch that evening along the river. That branch of the river
+was almost always deserted after the day was over. A boat plying
+between these shores in the twilight would certainly attract attention.
+Rouletabille showed the guard the paper Koupriane had given him in the
+beginning, and with the officer (who turned out to be a police officer)
+as interpreter, he asked his questions. As a matter of fact the guard
+had been sufficiently puzzled by the doings and comings of a light boat
+which, after disappearing for an instant, around the bend of the river,
+had suddenly rowed swiftly out again and accosted a sailing-yacht which
+appeared at the opening of the gulf. It was one of those small but rapid
+and elegant sailing craft such as are seen in the Lachtka regattas.
+
+Lachtka! "The Bay of Lachtka!"
+
+The word was a ray of light for the reporter, who recalled now the
+counsel Gounsovski had given him. "Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and tell
+me then if you still believe Natacha is innocent!" Gounsovski must have
+known when he said this that Natacha had embarked in company with the
+Nihilists, but evidently he was ignorant that she had gone with them
+under compulsion, as their prisoner.
+
+Was it too late to save Natacha? In any case, before he died, he would
+try in every way possible, so as at least to have kept her as much as he
+could from the disaster for which he held himself responsible. He ran to
+the Barque, near the Point.
+
+His voice was firm as he hailed the canoe of the floating restaurant
+where, thanks to him, Koupriane had been thwarted in impotent anger. He
+had himself taken to just below Staria-Derevnia and jumped out at the
+spot where he saw little Katharina disappear a few days before. He
+landed in the mud and climbed on hands and knees up the slope of a
+roadway which followed the bank. This bank led to the Bay of Lachtka,
+not far from the frontier of Finland.
+
+On Rouletabille's left lay the sea, the immense gulf with slight waves;
+to his right was the decaying stretch of the marsh. Stagnant water
+stretching to the horizon, coarse grass and reeds, an extraordinary
+tangle of water-plants, small ponds whose greenish scum did not stir
+under the stiff breeze, water that was heavy and dirty. Along this
+narrow strip of land thrust thus between the marsh, the sky and the sea,
+he hurried, with many stumblings, his eyes fixed on the deserted gulf.
+Suddenly he turned his head at a singular noise. At first he didn't see
+anything, but heard in the distance a vague clamoring while a sort of
+vapor commenced to rise from the marsh. And then he noticed, nearer
+him, the high marsh grasses undulating. Finally he saw a countless flock
+rising from the bed of the marshes. Beasts, groups of beasts, whose
+horns one saw like bayonets, jostled each other trying to keep to the
+firm land. Many of them swam and on the backs of some were naked men,
+stark naked, with hair falling to their shoulders and streaming
+behind them like manes. They shouted war-cries and waved their clubs.
+Rouletabille stopped short before this prehistoric invasion. He would
+never have imagined that a few miles from the Nevsky Prospect he could
+have found himself in the midst of such a spectacle. These savages had
+not even a loin-cloth. Where did they come from with their herd? From
+what remote place in the world or in old and gone history had they
+emerged? What was this new invasion? What prodigious slaughter-house
+awaited these unruly herds? They made a noise like thunder in the marsh.
+Here were a thousand unkempt haunches undulating in the marsh like the
+ocean as a storm approaches. The stark-naked men jumped along the route,
+waving their clubs, crying gutturally in a way the beasts seemed to
+understand. They worked their way out from the marsh and turned toward
+the city, leaving behind, to swathe the view of them a while and then
+fade away, a pestilential haze that hung like an aura about the naked,
+long-haired men. It was terrible and magnificent. In order not to be
+shoved into the water, Rouletabille had climbed a small rock that stood
+beside the route, and had waited there as though petrified himself.
+When the barbarians had finally passed by he climbed down again, but the
+route had become a bog of trampled filth.
+
+Happily, he heard the noise of a primitive conveyance behind him. It
+was a telega. Curiously primitive, the telega is four-wheeled, with two
+planks thrown crudely across the axle-trees. Rouletabille gave the man
+who was seated in it three roubles, and jumped into the planks beside
+him, and the two little Finnish horses, whose manes hung clear to the
+mud, went like the wind. Such crude conveyances are necessary on such
+crude roads, but it requires a strong constitution to make a journey on
+them. Still, the reporter felt none of the jolting, he was so intent
+on the sea and the coast of Lachtka Bay. The vehicle finally reached
+a wooden bridge, across a murky creek. As the day commenced to fade
+colorlessly, Rouletabille jumped off onto the shore and his rustic
+equipage crossed to the Sestroriesk side. It was a corner of land black
+and somber as his thoughts that he surveyed now. "Watch the Bay of
+Lachtka!" The reporter knew that this desolate plain, this impenetrable
+marsh, this sea which offered the fugitive refuge in innumerable fords,
+had always been a useful retreat for Nihilistic adventurers. A hundred
+legends circulated in St. Petersburg about the mysteries of Lachtka
+marshes. And that gave him his last hope. Maybe he would be able to run
+across some revolutionaries to whom he could explain about Natacha, as
+prudently as possible; he might even see Natacha herself. Gounsovski
+could not have spoken vain words to him.
+
+Between the Lachtkrinsky marsh and the strand he perceived on the edge
+of the forests which run as far as Sestroriesk a little wooden house
+whose walls were painted a reddish-brown, and its roof green. It was
+not the Russian isba, but the Finnish touba. However, a Russian sign
+announced it to be a restaurant. The young man had to take only a few
+steps to enter it. He was the only customer there. An old man,
+with glasses and a long gray beard, evidently the proprietor of the
+establishment, stood behind the counter, presiding over the zakouskis.
+Rouletabille chose some little sandwiches which he placed on a plate. He
+took a bottle of pivo and made the man understand that later, if it were
+possible, he would like a good hot supper. The other made a sign that
+he understood and showed him into an adjoining room which was used for
+diners. Rouletabille was quite ready enough to die in the face of his
+failures, but he did not wish to perish from hunger.
+
+A table was placed beside a window looking out over the sea and over the
+entrance to the bay. It could not have been better and, with his eye
+now on the horizon, now on the estuary near-by, he commenced to eat with
+gloomy avidity. He was inclined to feel sorry for himself, to indulge
+in self-pity. "Just the same, two and two always make four," he said to
+himself; "but in my calculations perhaps I have forgotten the surd. Ah,
+there was a time when I would not have overlooked anything. And even now
+I haven't overlooked anything, if Natacha is innocent!" Having literally
+scoured the plate, he struck the table a great blow with his fist and
+said: "She is!"
+
+Just then the door opened. Rouletabille supposed the proprietor of the
+place was entering.
+
+It was Koupriane.
+
+He rose, startled. He could not imagine by what mystery the Prefect of
+Police had made his way there, but he rejoiced from the bottom of his
+heart, for if he was trying to rescue Natacha from the hands of the
+revolutionaries Koupriane would be a valuable ally. He clapped the
+Prefect on the shoulder.
+
+"Well, well!" he said, almost joyfully. "I certainly did not expect you
+here. How is your wound?"
+
+"Nitchevo! Not worth speaking about; it's nothing."
+
+"And the general and--! Ah, that frightful night! And those two
+unfortunates who--?"
+
+"Nitchevo! Nitchevo!"
+
+"And poor Ermolai!"
+
+"Nitchevo! Nitchevo! It is nothing."
+
+Rouletabille looked him over. The Prefect of Police had an arm in a
+sling, but he was bright and shining as a new ten-rouble piece, while
+he, poor Rouletabille, was so abominably soiled and depressed. Where did
+he come from? Koupriane understood his look and smiled.
+
+"Well, I have just come from the Finland train; it is the best way."
+
+"But what can you have come here to do, Excellency?"
+
+"The same thing as you."
+
+"Bah!" exclaimed Rouletabille, "do you mean to say that you have come
+here to save Natacha?"
+
+"How--to save her! I come to capture her."
+
+"To capture her?"
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, I have a very fine little dungeon in Saints
+Peter and Paul fortress that is all ready for her."
+
+"You are going to throw Natacha into a dungeon!"
+
+"The Emperor's order, Monsieur Rouletabille. And if you see me here in
+person it is simply because His Majesty requires that the thing be done
+as respectfully and discreetly as possible."
+
+"Natacha in prison!" cried the reporter, who saw in horror all obstacles
+rising before him at one and the same time. "For what reasons, pray?"
+
+"The reason is simple enough. Natacha Feodorovna is the last word in
+wickedness and doesn't deserve anybody's pity. She is the accomplice
+of the revolutionaries and the instigator of all the crimes against her
+father."
+
+"I am sure that you are mistaken, Excellency. But how have you been
+guided to her?"
+
+"Simply by you."
+
+"By me?"
+
+"Yes, we lost all trace of Natacha. But, as you had disappeared also,
+I made up my mind that you could only be occupied in searching for her,
+and that by finding you I might have the chance to lay my hands on her."
+
+"But I haven't seen any of your men?"
+
+"Why, one of them brought you here."
+
+"Me?"
+
+"Yes, you. Didn't you climb onto a telega?"
+
+"Ah, the driver."
+
+"Exactly. I had arranged to have him meet me at the Sestroriesk station.
+He pointed out the place where you dropped off, and here I am."
+
+The reporter bent his head, red with chagrin. Decidedly the sinister
+idea that he was responsible for the death of an innocent man and
+all the ills which had followed out of it had paralyzed his detective
+talents. He recognized it now. What was the use of struggling! If
+anyone had told him that he would be played with that way sometime,
+he, Rouletabille! he would have laughed heartily enough--then. But now,
+well, he wasn't capable of anything further. He was his own most cruel
+enemy. Not only was Natacha in the hands of the revolutionaries through
+his fault, by his abominable error, but worse yet, in the very moment
+when he wished to save her, he foolishly, naively, had conducted the
+police to the very spot where they should have been kept away. It was
+the depth of his humiliation; Koupriane really pitied the reporter.
+
+"Come, don't blame yourself too much," said he. "We would have found
+Natacha without you; Gounsovski notified us that she was going to embark
+in the Bay of Lachtka this evening with Priemkof."
+
+"Natacha with Priemkof!" exclaimed Rouletabille. "Natacha with the man
+who introduced the two living bombs into her father's house! If she is
+with him, Excellency, it is because she is his prisoner, and that alone
+will be sufficient to prove her innocence. I thank the Heaven that has
+sent you here."
+
+Koupriane swallowed a glass of vodka, poured another after it, and
+finally deigned to translate his thought:
+
+"Natacha is the friend of these precious men and we will see them
+disembark hand in hand."
+
+"Your men, then, haven't studied the traces of the struggle that 'these
+precious men' have had on the banks of the Neva before they carried away
+Natacha?"
+
+"Oh, they haven't been hoodwinked. As a matter of fact, the struggle was
+quite too visible not to have been done for appearances' sake. What a
+child you are! Can't you see that Natacha's presence in the datcha
+had become quite too dangerous for that charming young girl after the
+poisoning of her father and step-mother failed and at the moment when
+her comrades were preparing to send General Trebassof a pleasant little
+gift of dynamite? She arranged to get away and yet to appear kidnapped.
+It is too simple."
+
+Rouletabille raised his head.
+
+"There is something simpler still to imagine than the culpability of
+Natacha. It is that Priemkof schemed to pour the poison into the flask
+of vodka, saying to himself that if the poison didn't succeed at least
+it would make the occasion for introducing his dynamite into the house
+in the pockets of the 'doctors' that they would go to find."
+
+Koupriane seized Rouletabille's wrist and threw some terrible words at
+him, looking into the depths of his eyes:
+
+"It was not Priemkof who poured the poison, because there was no poison
+in the flask."
+
+Rouletabille, as he heard this extraordinary declaration, rose, more
+startled than he had ever been in the course of this startling campaign.
+
+If there was no poison in the flask, the poison must have been poured
+directly into the glasses by a person who was in the kiosk! Now, there
+were only four persons in the kiosk: the two who were poisoned and
+Natacha and himself, Rouletabille. And that kiosk was so perfectly
+isolated that it was impossible for any other persons than the four who
+were there to pour poison upon the table.
+
+"But it is not possible!" he cried.
+
+"It is so possible that it is so. Pere Alexis declared that there is no
+poison in the flask, and I ought to tell you that an analysis I had
+made after his bears him out. There was no poison, either, in the small
+bottle you took to Pere Alexis and into which you yourself had poured
+the contents of Natacha's glass and yours; no trace of poison excepting
+in two of the four glasses, arsenate of soda was found only on the
+soiled napkins of Trebassof and his wife and in the two glasses they
+drank from."
+
+"Oh, that is horrible," muttered the stupefied reporter; "that is
+horrible, for then the poisoner must be either Natacha or me."
+
+"I have every confidence in you," declared Koupriane with a great laugh
+of satisfaction, striking him on the shoulder. "And I arrest Natacha,
+and you who love logic ought to be satisfied now."
+
+Rouletabille hadn't a word more to say. He sat down again and let his
+head fall into his hands, like one sleep has seized.
+
+"Ah, our young girls; you don't know them. They are terrible, terrible!"
+said Koupriane, lighting a big cigar. "Much more terrible than the boys.
+In good families the boys still enjoy themselves; but the girls--they
+read! It goes to their heads. They are ready for anything; they know
+neither father nor mother. Ah, you are a child, you cannot comprehend.
+Two lovely eyes, a melancholy air, a soft, low voice, and you are
+captured--you believe you have before you simply an inoffensive, good
+little girl. Well, Rouletabille, here is what I will tell you for
+your instruction. There was the time of the Tchipoff attack; the
+revolutionaries who were assigned to kill Tchipoff were disguised as
+coachmen and footmen. Everything had been carefully prepared and it would
+seem that no one could have discovered the bombs in the place they had
+been stored. Well, do you know the place where those bombs were found?
+In the rooms of the governor, of Wladmir's daughter! Exactly, my little
+friend, just there! The rooms of the governor's daughter, Mademoiselle
+Alexeieiv. Ah, these young girls! Besides, it was this same Mademoiselle
+Alexeieiv who, so prettily, pierced the brain of an honest Swiss
+merchant who had the misfortune to resemble one of our ministers. If
+we had hanged that charming young girl earlier, my dear Monsieur
+Rouletabille, that last catastrophe might have been avoided. A good rope
+around the neck of all these little females--it is the only way, the
+only way!"
+
+A man entered. Rouletabille recognized the driver of the telega. There
+were some rapid words between the Chief and the agent. The man closed
+the shutters of the room, but through the interstices they would be
+able to see what went on outside. Then the agent left; Koupriane, as he
+pushed aside the table that was near the window, said to the reporter:
+
+"You had better come to the window; my man has just told me the boat
+is drawing near. You can watch an interesting sight. We are sure that
+Natacha is still aboard. The yacht, after the explosion at the datcha,
+took up two men who put off to it in a canoe, and since then it has
+simply sailed back and forth in the gulf. We have taken our precautions
+in Finland the same as here and it is here they are going to try to
+disembark. Keep an eye on them."
+
+Koupriane was at his post of observation. Evening slowly fell. The sky
+was growing grayish-black, a tint that blended with the slate-colored
+sea. To those on the bank, the sound of the men about to die came softly
+across the water. There was a sail far out. Between the strand and the
+touba where Koupriane watched, was a ridge, a window, which, however,
+did not hide the shore or the bay from the prefect of police, because at
+the height where he was his glance passed at an angle above it. But from
+the sea this ridge entirely hid anyone who lay in ambush behind it. The
+reporter watched fifty moujiks flat on their stomachs crawling up the
+ridge, behind two of their number whose heads alone topped the ridge.
+In the line of gaze taken by those two heads was the white sail, looming
+much larger now. The yacht was heeled in the water and glided with real
+elegance, heading straight on. Suddenly, just when they supposed she was
+coming straight to shore, the sails fell and a canoe was dropped over
+the side. Four men got into it; then a woman jumped lightly down
+a little gangway into the canoe. It was Natacha. Koupriane had no
+difficulty in recognizing her through the gathering darkness.
+
+"Ah, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille," said he, "see your prisoner of the
+Nihilists. Notice how she is bound. Her thongs certainly are causing her
+great pain. These revolutionaries surely are brutes!"
+
+The truth was that Natacha had gone quite readily to the rudder and
+while the others rowed she steered the light boat to the place on the
+beach that had been pointed out to her. Soon the prow of the canoe
+touched the sands. There did not seem to be a soul about, and that was
+the conclusion the men in the canoe who stood up looking around, seemed
+to reach. They jumped out, and then it was Natacha's turn. She accepted
+the hand held out to her, talking pleasantly with the men all the time.
+She even turned to press the hand of one of them. The group came up
+across the beach. All this time the watchers in the little eating-house
+could see the false moujiks, who had wriggled on their stomachs to the
+very edge of the ridge, holding themselves ready to spring.
+
+Behind his shutter, Koupriane could not restrain an exclamation of
+triumph; he gradually identified some of the figures in the group, and
+muttered:
+
+"Eh! eh! There is Priemkof himself and the others. Gounsovski is right
+and he certainly is well-informed; his system is decidedly a good one.
+What a net-full!"
+
+He hardly breathed as he watched the outcome. He could discern
+elsewhere, beside the bay, flat on the ground, concealed by the
+slightest elevation of the soil, other false moujiks. The wood of
+Sestroriesk was watched in the same way. The group of revolutionaries
+who strolled behind Natacha stopped to confer. In three--maybe
+two--minutes, they would be surrounded--cut off, taken in the trap.
+Suddenly a gunshot sounded in the night, and the group, with startled
+speed, turned in their tracks and made silently for the sea, while from
+all directions poured the concealed agents and threw themselves into
+the pursuit, jostling each other and crying after the fugitives. But the
+cries became cries of rage, for the group of revolutionaries gained the
+beach. They saw Natacha, who was held up by Priemkof himself, reject the
+aid of the Nihilist, who did not wish to abandon her, in order that he
+might save himself. She made him go and seeing that she was going to
+be taken, stopped short and waited for the enemy stoically, with folded
+arms. Meanwhile, her three companions succeeded in throwing themselves
+into the canoe and plied the oars hard while Koupriane's men, in the
+water up to their chests, discharged their revolvers at the fugitives.
+The men in the canoe, fearing to wound Natacha, made no reply to the
+firing. The yacht had sails up by the time they drew alongside, and
+made off like a bird toward the mysterious fords of Finland, audaciously
+hoisting the black flag of the Revolution.
+
+Meantime, Koupriane's agents, trembling before his anger, gathered at
+the eating-house. The Prefect of Police let his fury loose on them and
+treated them like the most infamous of animals. The capture of Natacha
+was little comfort. He had planned for the whole bag, and his men's
+stupidity took away all his self-control. If he had had a whip at hand
+he would have found prompt solace for his mined hopes. Natacha, standing
+in a corner, with her face singularly calm, watched this extraordinary
+scene that was like a menagerie in which the tamer himself had become
+a wild beast. From another corner, Rouletabille kept his eyes fixed on
+Natacha who ignored him. Ah, that girl, sphinx to them all! Even to him
+who thought a while ago that he could read things invisible to other
+vulgar men in her features, in her eyes! The impassive face of that girl
+whose father they had tried to assassinate only a few hours before and
+who had just pressed the hand of Priemkof, the assassin! Once she turned
+her head slightly toward Rouletabille. The reporter then looked towards
+her with increased eagerness, his eyes burning, as though he would say:
+"Surely, Natacha, you are not the accomplice of your father's assassins;
+surely it was not you who poured the poison!"
+
+But Natacha's glance passed the reporter coldly over. Ah, that
+mysterious, cold mask, the mouth with its bitter, impudent smile, an
+atrocious smile which seemed to say to the reporter: "If it is not I who
+poured the poison, then it is you!"
+
+It was the visage common enough to the daughters whom Koupriane had
+spoken of a little while before, "the young girls who read" and, their
+reading done, set themselves to accomplish some terrible thing, some
+thing because of which, from time to time, they place stiff ropes around
+the necks of these young females.
+
+Finally, Koupriane's frenzy wore itself out and he made a sign. The men
+filed out in dismal silence. Two of them remained to guard Natacha. From
+outside came the sounds of a carriage from Sestroriesk ready to convey
+the girl to the Dungeons of Sts. Peter and Paul. A final gesture from
+the Prefect of Police and the rough bands of the two guards seized the
+prisoner's frail wrists. They hustled her along, thrust her outside,
+jamming her against the doorway, venting thus their anger at the
+reproaches of their chief. A few seconds later the carriage departed,
+not to stop until the fortress was reached with the trickling
+tombs under the bed of the river where young girls about to die are
+confined--who have read too much, without entirely understanding, as
+Monsieur Kropotkine says.
+
+Koupriane prepared to leave in turn. Rouletabille stopped him.
+
+"Excellency, I wish you to tell me why you have shown such anger to your
+men just now."
+
+"They are brute beasts," cried the Chief of Police, quite beside himself
+again. "They have made me miss the biggest catch of my life. They threw
+themselves on the group two minutes too early. Some of them fired a gun
+that they took for the signal and that served to warn the Nihilists.
+But I will let them all rot in prison until I learn which one fired that
+shot."
+
+"You needn't look far for that," said Rouletabille. "I did it."
+
+"You! Then you must have gone outside the touba?"
+
+"Yes, in order to warn them. But still I was a little late, since you
+did take Natacha."
+
+Koupriane's eyes blazed.
+
+"You are their accomplice in all this," he hurled at the reporter, "and
+I am going to the Tsar for permission to arrest you."
+
+"Hurry, then, Excellency," replied the reporter coldly, "because the
+Nihilists, who also think they have a little account to settle with me,
+may reach me before you."
+
+And he saluted.
+
+
+
+
+
+XV. "I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU"
+
+At the hotel a note from Gounsovski: "Don't forget this time to
+come to-morrow to have luncheon with me. Warmest regards from Madame
+Gounsovski." Then a horrible, sleepless night, shaken with echoes of
+explosions and the clamor of the wounded; and the solemn shade of Pere
+Alexis, stretching out toward Rouletabille a phial of poison and saying,
+"Either Natacha or you!" Then, rising among the shades the bloody form
+of Michael Nikolaievitch the Innocent!
+
+In the morning a note from the Marshal of the Court.
+
+Monsieur le Marechal had no particular good news, evidently, for in
+terms quite without enthusiasm he invited the young man to luncheon for
+that same day, rather early, at midday, as he wished to see him once
+more before he left for France. "I see," said Rouletabille to himself;
+"Monsieur le Marechal pronounces my expulsion from the country"--and he
+forgot once more the Gounsovski luncheon. The meeting-place named was
+the great restaurant called the Bear. Rouletabille entered it promptly
+at noon. He asked the schwitzar if the Grand Marshal of the Court had
+arrived, and was told no one had seen him yet. They conducted him to
+the huge main hall, where, however, there was only one person. This man,
+standing before the table spread with zakouskis, was stuffing himself.
+At the sound of Rouletabille's step on the floor this sole famished
+patron turned and lifted his hands to heaven as he recognized the
+reporter. The latter would have given all the roubles in his pocket to
+have avoided the recognition. But he was already face to face with
+the advocate so celebrated for his table-feats, the amiable Athanase
+Georgevitch, his head swathed in bandages and dressings from the midst
+of which one could perceive distinctly only the eyes and, above all, the
+mouth.
+
+"How goes it, little friend?"
+
+"How are you?"
+
+"Oh, I! There is nothing the matter. In a week we shall have forgotten
+it."
+
+"What a terrible affair," said the reporter, "I certainly believed we
+were all dead men."
+
+"No, no. It was nothing. Nitchevo!"
+
+"And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff with his two poor legs broken!"
+
+"Eh! Nitchevo! He has plenty of good solid splints that will make him
+two good legs again. Nitchevo! Don't you think anything more about that!
+It is nothing. You have come here to dine? A very celebrated house this.
+Caracho!" He busied himself to do the honors. One would have said the
+restaurant belonged to him. He boasted of its architecture and the
+cuisine "a la Francaise."
+
+"Do you know," he inquired confidently, "a finer restaurant room
+anywhere in the world?"
+
+In fact, it seemed to Rouletabille as he looked up into the high glass
+arch that he was in a railway station decorated for some illustrious
+traveler, for there were flowers and plants everywhere. But the visitor
+whom the ball awaited was the Russian eater, the ogre who never failed
+to come to eat at The Bear. Pointing out the lines of tables shining
+with their white cloths and bright silver, Athanase Georgevitch, with
+his mouth full, said:
+
+"Ah, my dear little French monsieur, you should see it at supper-time,
+with the women, and the jewels, and the music. There is nothing in
+France that can give you any idea of it, nothing! The gayety--the
+champagne--and the jewels, monsieur, worth millions and millions of
+roubles! Our women wear them all--everything they have. They are decked
+like sacred shrines! All the family jewels--from the very bottom of the
+caskets! it is magnificent, thoroughly Russian--Muscovite! What am
+I saying? It is Asiatic. Monsieur, in the evening, at a fete, we are
+Asiatic. Let me tell you something on the quiet. You notice that this
+enormous dining hall is surrounded by those windowed balconies. Each of
+those windows belongs to a separate private room. Well, you see that
+window there?--yes, there--that is the room of a grand duke--yes, he's
+the one I mean--a very gay grand duke. Do you know, one evening when
+there was a great crowd here--families, monsieur, family parties,
+high-born families--the window of that particular balcony was thrown
+open, and a woman stark naked, as naked as my hand, monsieur, was
+dropped into the dining-hall and ran across it full-speed. It was a
+wager, monsieur, a wager of the jolly grand duke's, and the demoiselle
+won it. But what a scandal! Ah, don't speak of it; that would be very
+bad form. But--sufficiently Asiatic, eh? Truly Asiatic. And--something
+much more unfortunate--you see that table? It happened the Russian New
+Year Eve, at supper. All the beauty, the whole capital, was here. Just
+at midnight the orchestra struck up the Bodje tsara krani* to inaugurate
+the joyful Russian New Year, and everybody stood up, according to
+custom, and listened in silence, as loyal subjects should. Well, at
+that table, accompanying his family, there was a young student, a fine
+fellow, very correct, and in uniform. This unhappy young student, who
+had risen like everybody else, to listen to the Bodje tsara krani,
+inadvertently placed his knee on a chair. Truly that is not a correct
+attitude, monsieur, but really it was no reason for killing him, was
+it now? Certainly not. Well, a brute in uniform, an officer quite
+immaculately gotten-up, drew a revolver from his pocket and discharged
+it at the student point-blank. You can imagine the scandal, for the
+student was dead! There were Paris journalists there, besides, who had
+never been there before, you see! Monsieur Gaston Leroux was at that
+very table. What a scandal! They had a regular battle. They broke
+carafes over the head of the assassin--for he was neither more nor less
+than an assassin, a drinker of blood--an Asiatic. They picked up the
+assassin, who was bleeding all over, and carried him off to look after
+him. As to the dead man, he lay stretched out there under a table-cloth,
+waiting for the police--and those at the tables went on with their
+drinking. Isn't that Asiatic enough for you? Here, a naked woman; there,
+a corpse! And the jewels--and the champagne! What do you say to that?"
+
+     * The Russian national anthem.
+
+"His Excellency the Grand Marshal of the Court is waiting for you,
+Monsieur."
+
+Rouletabille shook hands with Athanase Georgevitch, who returned to
+his zakouskis, and followed the interpreter to the door of one of
+the private rooms. The high dignitary was there. With a charm in his
+politeness of which the high-born Russian possesses the secret
+over almost everybody else in the world, the Marshal intimated to
+Rouletabille that he had incurred imperial displeasure.
+
+"You have been denounced by Koupriane, who holds you responsible for the
+checks he has suffered in this affair."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane is right," replied Rouletabille, "and His Majesty
+should believe him, since it is the truth. But don't fear anything from
+me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, for I shall not inconvenience Monsieur
+Koupriane any further, nor anybody else. I shall disappear."
+
+"I believe Koupriane is already directed to vise your passport."
+
+"He is very good, and he does himself much harm."
+
+"All that is a little your fault, Monsieur Rouletabille. We believed we
+could consider you as a friend, and you have never failed, it appears,
+on each occasion to give your help to our enemies.
+
+"Who says that?"
+
+"Koupriane. Oh, it is necessary to be one with us. And you are not one
+with us. And if you are not for us you are against us. You understand
+that, I think. That is the way it has to be. The Terrorists have
+returned to the methods of the Nihilists, who succeeded altogether
+too well against Alexander II. When I tell you that they succeeded in
+placing their messages even in the imperial palace..."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, vaguely, as though he were already
+far removed from the contingencies of this world. "I know that Czar
+Alexander II sometimes found under his napkin a letter announcing his
+condemnation to death."
+
+"Monsieur, at the Chateau yesterday morning something happened that is
+perhaps more alarming than the letter found by Alexander II under his
+napkin."
+
+"What can it be? Have bombs been discovered?"
+
+"No. It is a bizarre occurrence and almost unbelievable. The eider
+downs, all the eider down coverings belonging to the imperial
+family disappeared yesterday morning."*
+
+     * Historically authentic.
+
+"Surely not!"
+
+"It is just as I say. And it was impossible to learn what had become
+of them--until yesterday evening, when they were found again in their
+proper places in the chambers. That is the new mystery!"
+
+"Certainly. But how were they taken out?"
+
+"Shall we ever know? All we found was two feathers, this morning, in
+the boudoir of the Empress, which leads us to think that the eider downs
+were taken out that way. I am taking the two feathers to Koupriane."
+
+"Let me see them," asked the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille looked them over and handed them back.
+
+"And what do you think the whole affair means?"
+
+"We are inclined to regard it as a threat by the revolutionaries. If
+they can carry away the eider downs, it would be quite as easy for them
+to carry away..."
+
+"The Imperial family? No, I don't think it is that."
+
+"What do you mean, then?"
+
+"I? Nothing any more. Not only do I not think any more, but I don't wish
+to. Tell me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, it is useless, I suppose, to
+try to see His Majesty before I go?"
+
+"What good would it do, monsieur? We know everything now. This Natacha
+that you defended against Koupriane is proved the culprit. The last
+affair does not leave that in any reasonable doubt. And she is taken
+care of from this time on. His Majesty wishes never to hear Natacha
+spoken of again under any pretext."
+
+"And what are you going to do with that young girl?"
+
+"The Tsar has decided that there shall not be any trial and that the
+daughter of General Trebassof shall be sent, by administrative order,
+to Siberia. The Tsar, monsieur, is very good, for he might have had her
+hanged. She deserved it."
+
+"Yes, yes, the Tsar is very good."
+
+"You are very absorbed, Monsieur Rouletabille, and you are not eating."
+
+"I have no appetite, Monsieur le Marechal. Tell me,--the Emperor must be
+rather bored at Tsarskoie-Coelo?"
+
+"Oh, he has plenty of work. He rises at seven o'clock and has a light
+English luncheon--tea and toast. At eight o'clock he starts and works
+till ten. From ten to eleven he promenades."
+
+"In the jail-yard?" asked Rouletabille innocently.
+
+"What's that you say? Ah, you are an enfant terrible! Certainly we do
+well to send you away. Until eleven he promenades in a pathway of the
+park. From eleven to one he holds audience; luncheon at one; then he
+spends the time until half-past two with his family."
+
+"What does he eat?"
+
+"Soup. His Majesty is wonderfully fond of soup. He takes it at every
+meal. After luncheon he smokes, but never a cigar--always cigarettes,
+gifts of the Sultan; and he only drinks one liqueur, Maraschino. At
+half-past two he goes out again for a little air--always in his park;
+then he sets himself to work until eight o'clock. It is simply frightful
+work, with heaps of useless papers and numberless signatures. No
+secretary can spare him that ungrateful bureaucratic duty. He must sign,
+sign, sign, and read, read, read the reports. And it is work without any
+beginning or end; as soon as some reports go, others arrive. At eight
+o'clock, dinner, and then more signatures, working right up to eleven
+o'clock. At eleven o'clock he goes to bed."
+
+"And he sleeps to the rhythmical tramp of the guards on patrol," added
+Rouletabille, bluntly.
+
+"O young man, young man!"
+
+"Pardon me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal," said the reporter, rising; "I
+am, indeed, a disturbing spirit and I know that I have nothing more
+to do in this country. You will not see me any more, Monsieur le Grand
+Marechal; but before leaving I ought to tell you how much I have been
+touched by the hospitality of your great nation. That hospitality is
+sometimes a little dangerous, but it is always magnificent. No other
+nation in the world knows like the Russians how to receive a man, Your
+Excellency. I speak as I feel; and that isn't affected by my manner of
+quitting you, for you know also how to put a man to the door. Adieu,
+then; without any rancor. My most respectful homage to His Majesty. Ah,
+just one word more! You will recall that Natacha Feodorovna was engaged
+to poor Boris Mourazoff, still another young man who has disappeared and
+who, before disappearing, charged me to deliver to General Trebassof's
+daughter this last token--these two little ikons. I entrust you with
+this mission, Monsieur le Grand Marechal. Your servant, Excellency."
+
+Rouletabille re-descended the great Kaniouche. "Now," said he to
+himself, "it is my turn to buy farewell presents." And he made his
+way slowly across la Place des Grandes-Ecuries and the bridge of the
+Katharine canal. He entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok and pushed open Pere
+Alexis's door, under the arch, at the back of the obscure court.
+
+"Health and prosperity, Alexis Hutch!"
+
+"Ah, you again, little man! Well? Koupriane has let you know the result
+of my analyses?"
+
+"Yes, yes. Tell me, Alexis Hutch, you are sure you are not mistaken? You
+don't think you might be mistaken? Think carefully before you answer. It
+is a question of life or death."
+
+"For whom?"
+
+"For me."
+
+"For you, good little friend! You want to make your old Pere Alexis
+laugh--or weep!"
+
+"Answer me."
+
+"No, I couldn't be mistaken. The thing is as certain as that we two are
+here--arsenate of soda in the stains on the two napkins and traces of
+arsenate of soda in two of the four glasses; none in the carafe, none
+in the little bottle, none in the two glasses. I say it before you and
+before God."
+
+"So it is really true. Thank you, Alexis Hutch. Koupriane has not tried
+to deceive me. There has been nothing of that sort. Well, do you know,
+Alexis Hutch, who has poured the poison? It is she or I. And as it is
+not I, it is she. And since it is she, well, I am going to die!"
+
+"You love her, then?" inquired Pere Alexis.
+
+"No," replied Rouletabille, with a self-mocking smile. "No, I don't love
+her. But if it is she who poured the poison, then it was not Michael
+Nikolaievitch, and it is I who had Michael Nikolaievitch killed. You can
+see now that therefore I must die. Show me your finest images.
+
+"Ah, my little one, if you will permit your old Alexis to make you a
+gift, I would offer you these two poor ikons that are certainly from the
+convent of Troitza at its best period. See how beautiful they are, and
+old. Have you ever seen so beautiful a Mother of God? And this St.
+Luke, would you believe that the hand had been mended, eh? Two little
+masterpieces, little friend! If the old masters of Salonika returned to
+the world they would be satisfied with their pupils at Troitza. But you
+mustn't kill yourself at your age!"
+
+"Come, bat ouclzka (little father), I accept your gift, and, if I meet
+the old Salonican masters on the road I am going to travel, I shan't
+fail to tell them there is no person here below who appreciates them
+like a certain pere of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, Alexis Hutch."
+
+So saying Rouletabille wrapped up the two little ikons and put them
+in his pocket. The Saint Luke would be sure to appeal to his friend
+Sainclair. As to the Mother of God, that would be his dying gift to the
+Dame en noir.
+
+"Ah, you are sad, little son; and your voice, as it sounds now, hurts
+me."
+
+Rouletabille turned his head at the sound of two moujiks who entered,
+carrying a long basket.
+
+"What do you want?" demanded Pere Alexis in Russian, "and what is that
+you are bringing in? Do you intend to fill that huge basket with my
+goods? In that case you are very welcome and I am your humble servant."
+
+But the two chuckled.
+
+"Yes, yes, we have come to rid your shop of a wretched piece of goods
+that litters it."
+
+"What is this you say?" inquired the old man, anxiously, and drawing
+near Rouletabille. "Little friend, watch these men; I don't recognize
+their faces and I can't understand why they have come here."
+
+Rouletabille looked at the new-comers, who drew near the counter, after
+depositing their long basket close to the door. There was a sarcastic
+and malicious mocking way about them that struck him from the first. But
+while they kept up their jabbering with Pere Alexis he filled his pipe
+and proceeded to light it. Just then the door was pushed open again and
+three men entered, simply dressed, like respectable small merchants.
+They also acted curiously and looked all around the shop. Pere Alexis
+grew more and more alarmed and the others pulled rudely at his beard.
+
+"I believe these men here have come to rob me," he cried in French.
+"What do you say, my son?--Shall I call the police?"
+
+"Hold on," replied Rouletabille impassively. "They are all armed; they
+have revolvers in their pockets."
+
+Pere Alexis's teeth commenced to chatter. As he tried to get near
+the door he was roughly pushed back and a final personage entered,
+apparently a gentleman, and dressed as such, save that he wore a visored
+leather cap.
+
+"Ah," said he at once in French, "why, it is the young French journalist
+of the Grand-Morskaia Hotel. Salutations and your good health! I see
+with pleasure that you also appreciate the counsels of our dear Pere
+Alexis."
+
+"Don't listen to him, little friend; I don't know him," cried Alexis
+Hutch.
+
+But the gentleman of the Neva went on:
+
+"He is a man close to the first principles of science, and therefore not
+far from divine; he is a holy man, whom it is good to consult at moments
+when the future appears difficult. He knows how to read as no one else
+can--Father John of Cronstadt excepted, to be strictly accurate--on the
+sheets of bull-hide where the dark angels have traced mysterious signs
+of destiny."
+
+Here the gentleman picked up an old pair of boots, which he threw on the
+counter in the midst of the ikons.
+
+"Pere Alexis, perhaps these are not bull-hide, but good enough cow-hide.
+Don't you want to read on this cow-hide the future of this young man?"
+
+But here Rouletabille advanced to the gentleman, and blew an enormous
+cloud of smoke full in his face.
+
+"It is useless, monsieur," said Rouletabille, "to waste your time and
+your breath. I have been waiting for you."
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI. BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+
+Only, Rouletabille refused to be put into the basket. He would not let
+them disarm him until they promised to call a carriage. The Vehicle
+rolled into the court, and while Pere Alexis was kept back in his shop
+at the point of a revolver, Rouletabille quietly got in, smoking his
+pipe. The man who appeared to be the chief of the band (the gentleman of
+the Neva) got in too and sat down beside him. The carriage windows were
+shuttered, preventing all communication with the outside, and only a
+tiny lantern lighted the interior. They started. The carriage was driven
+by two men in brown coats trimmed with false astrakhan. The dvornicks
+saluted, believing it a police affair. The concierge made the sign of
+the cross.
+
+The journey lasted several hours without other incidents than those
+brought about by the tremendous jolts, which threw the two passengers
+inside one on top of the other. This might have made an opening for
+conversation; and the "gentleman of the Neva" tried it; but in vain.
+Rouletabille would not respond. At one moment, indeed, the gentleman,
+who was growing bored, became so pressing that the reporter finally said
+in the curt tone he always used when he was irritated:
+
+"I pray you, monsieur, let me smoke my pipe in peace."
+
+Upon which the gentleman prudently occupied himself in lowering one of
+the windows, for it grew stifling.
+
+Finally, after much jolting, there was a stop while the horses
+were changed and the gentleman asked Rouletabille to let himself be
+blindfolded. "The moment has come; they are going to hang me without
+any form of trial," thought the reporter, and when, blinded with the
+bandage, he felt himself lifted under the arms, there was revolt of his
+whole being, that being which, now that it was on the point of dying,
+did not wish to cease. Rouletabille would have believed himself
+stronger, more courageous, more stoical at least. But blind instinct
+swept all of this away, that instinct of conservation which had no
+concern with the minor bravadoes of the reporter, no concern with the
+fine heroic manner, of the determined pose to die finely, because
+the instinct of conservation, which is, as its rigid name indicates,
+essentially materialistic, demands only, thinks of nothing but, to live.
+And it was that instinct which made Rouletabille's last pipe die out
+unpuffed.
+
+The young man was furious with himself, and he grew pale with the fear
+that he might not succeed in mastering this emotion, he took fierce
+hold of himself and his members, which had stiffened at the contact
+of seizure by rough hands, relaxed, and he allowed himself to be led.
+Truly, he was disgusted with his faintness and weakness. He had seen men
+die who knew they were going to die. His task as reporter had led him
+more than once to the foot of the guillotine. And the wretches he had
+seen there had died bravely. Extraordinarily enough, the most criminal
+had ordinarily met death most bravely. Of course, they had had leisure
+to prepare themselves, thinking a long time in advance of that supreme
+moment. But they affronted death, came to it almost negligently, found
+strength even to say banal or taunting things to those around them. He
+recalled above all a boy of eighteen years old who had cowardly murdered
+an old woman and two children in a back-country farm, and had walked to
+his death without a tremor, talking reassuringly to the priest and the
+police official, who walked almost sick with horror on either side of
+him. Could he, then, not be as brave as that child?
+
+They made him mount some steps and he felt that he had entered the
+stuffy atmosphere of a closed room. Then someone removed the bandage.
+He was in a room of sinister aspect and in the midst of a rather large
+company.
+
+Within these naked, neglected walls there were about thirty young men,
+some of them apparently quite as young as Rouletabille, with candid blue
+eyes and pale complexions. The others, older men, were of the physical
+type of Christs, not the animated Christs of Occidental painters, but
+those that are seen on the panels of the Byzantine school or fastened on
+the ikons, sculptures of silver or gold. Their long hair, deeply parted
+in the middle, fell upon their shoulders in curl-tipped golden masses.
+Some leant against the wall, erect, and motionless. Others were seated
+on the floor, their legs crossed. Most of them were in winter coats,
+bought in the bazaars. But there were also men from the country, with
+their skins of beasts, their sayons, their touloupes. One of them had
+his legs laced about with cords and was shod with twined willow twigs.
+The contrast afforded by various ones of these grave and attentive
+figures showed that representatives from the entire revolutionary party
+were present. At the back of the room, behind a table, three young men
+were seated, and the oldest of them was not more than twenty-five and
+had the benign beauty of Jesus on feast-days, canopied by consecrated
+palms.
+
+In the center of the room a small table stood, quite bare and without
+any apparent purpose.
+
+On the right was another table with paper, pens and ink-stands. It was
+there that Rouletabille was conducted and asked to be seated. Then he
+saw that another man was at his side, who was required to keep standing.
+His face was pale and desperate, very drawn. His eyes burned somberly,
+in spite of the panic that deformed his features Rouletabille recognized
+one of the unintroduced friends whom Gounsovski had brought with him to
+the supper at Krestowsky. Evidently since then the always-threatening
+misfortune had fallen upon him. They were proceeding with his trial. The
+one who seemed to preside over these strange sessions pronounced a name:
+
+"Annouchka!"
+
+A door opened, and Annouchka appeared.
+
+Rouletabille hardly recognized her, she was so strangely dressed,
+like the Russian poor, with her under-jacket of red-flannel and the
+handkerchief which, knotted under her chin, covered all her beautiful
+hair.
+
+She immediately testified in Russian against the man, who protested
+until they compelled him to be silent. She drew from her pocket papers
+which were read aloud, and which appeared to crush the accused. He
+fell back onto his seat. He shivered. He hid his head in his hands, and
+Rouletabille saw the hands tremble. The man kept that position while
+the other witnesses were heard, their testimony arousing murmurs of
+indignation that were quickly checked. Annouchka had gone to take her
+place with the others against the wall, in the shadows which more and
+more invaded the room, at this ending of a lugubrious day. Two windows
+reaching to the floor let a wan light creep with difficulty through
+their dirty panes, making a vague twilight in the room. Soon nothing
+could be seen of the motionless figures against the wall, much as the
+faces fade in the frescoes from which the centuries have effaced the
+colors in the depths of orthodox convents.
+
+Now someone from the depths of the shadow and the appalling silence read
+something; the verdict, doubtless.
+
+The voice ceased.
+
+Then some of the figures detached themselves from the wall and advanced.
+
+The man who crouched near Rouletabille rose in a savage bound and cried
+out rapidly, wild words, supplicating words, menacing words.
+
+And then--nothing more but strangling gasps. The figures that had moved
+out from the wall had clutched his throat.
+
+The reporter said, "It is cowardly."
+
+Annouchka's voice, low, from the depths of shadow, replied, "It is
+just."
+
+But Rouletabille was satisfied with having said that, for he had proved
+to himself that he could still speak. His emotion had been such, since
+they had pushed him into the center of this sinister and expeditious
+revolutionary assembly of justice, that he thought of nothing but the
+terror of not being able to speak to them, to say something to them, no
+matter what, which would prove to them that he had no fear. Well, that
+was over. He had not failed to say, "That is cowardly."
+
+And he crossed his arms. But he soon had to turn away his head in order
+not to see the use the table was put to that stood in the center of the
+room, where it had seemed to serve no purpose.
+
+They had lifted the man, still struggling, up onto the little table.
+They placed a rope about his neck. Then one of the "judges," one of the
+blond young men, who seemed no older than Rouletabille, climbed on the
+table and slipped the other end of the rope through a great ring-bolt
+that projected from a beam of the ceiling. During this time the man
+struggled futilely, and his death-rattle rose at last though the
+continued noise of his resistance and its overcoming. But his last
+breath came with so violent a shake of the body that the whole
+death-apparatus, rope and ring-bolt, separated from the ceiling, and
+rolled to the ground with the dead man.
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry of horror. "You are assassins!" he cried.
+But was the man surely dead? It was this that the pale figures with the
+yellow hair set themselves to make sure of. He was. Then they brought
+two sacks and the dead man was slipped into one of them.
+
+Rouletabille said to them:
+
+"You are braver when you kill by an explosion, you know."
+
+He regretted bitterly that he had not died the night before in the
+explosion. He did not feel very brave. He talked to them bravely enough,
+but he trembled as his time approached. That death horrified him. He
+tried to keep from looking at the other sack. He took the two ikons,
+of Saint Luke and of the Virgin, from his pocket and prayed to them. He
+thought of the Lady in Black and wept.
+
+A voice in the shadows said:
+
+"He is crying, the poor little fellow."
+
+It was Annouchka's voice.
+
+Rouletabille dried his tears and said:
+
+"Messieurs, one of you must have a mother."
+
+But all the voices cried:
+
+"No, no, we have mothers no more!"
+
+"They have killed them," cried some. "They have sent them to Siberia,"
+cried others.
+
+"Well, I have a mother still," said the poor lad. "I will not have the
+opportunity to embrace her. It is a mother that I lost the day of my
+birth and that I have found again, but--I suppose it is to be said--on
+the day of my death. I shall not see her again. I have a friend; I shall
+not see him again either. I have two little ikons here for them, and I
+am going to write a letter to each of them, if you will permit it. Swear
+to me that you will see these reach them."
+
+"I swear it," said, in French, the voice of Annouchka.
+
+"Thanks, madame, you are kind. And now, messieurs, that is all I ask of
+you. I know I am here to reply to very grave accusations. Permit me
+to say to you at once that I admit them all to be well founded.
+Consequently, there need be no discussion between us. I have deserved
+death and I accept it. So permit me not to concern myself with what will
+be going on here. I ask of you simply, as a last favor, not to hasten
+your preparations too much, so that I may be able to finish my letters."
+
+Upon which, satisfied with himself this time, he sat down again and
+commenced to write rapidly. They left him in peace, as he desired. He
+did not raise his head once, even at the moment when a murmur louder
+than usual showed that the hearers regarded Rouletabille's crimes with
+especial detestation. He had the happiness of having entirely completed
+his correspondence when they asked him to rise to hear judgment
+pronounced upon him. The supreme communion that he had just had with his
+friend Sainclair and with the dear Lady in Black restored all his spirit
+to him. He listened respectfully to the sentence which condemned him to
+death, though he was busy sliding his tongue along the gummed edge of
+his envelope.
+
+These were the counts on which he was to be hanged:
+
+   1. Because he had come to Russia and mixed in affairs that did not
+       concern his nationality, and had done this in spite of warning
+       to remain in France.
+
+   2. Because he had not kept the promises of neutrality he freely
+       made to a representative of the Central Revolutionary Committee.
+
+   3. For trying to penetrate the mystery of the Trebassof datcha.
+
+   4. For having Comrade Matiew whipped and imprisoned by Koupriane.
+
+   5. For having denounced to Koupriane the identity of the two
+       "doctors" who had been assigned to kill General Trebassof.
+
+   6. For having caused the arrest of Natacha Feodorovna.
+
+It was a list longer than was needed for his doom. Rouletabille kissed
+his ikons and handed them to Annouchka along with the letters. Then
+he declared, with his lips trembling slightly, and a cold sweat on his
+forehead, that he was ready to submit to his fate.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII. THE LAST CRAVAT
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him: "If you have nothing further to
+say, we will go into the courtyard."
+
+Rouletabille understood at last that hanging him in the room where
+judgment had been pronounced was rendered impossible by the violence of
+the prisoner just executed. Not only the rope and the ring-bolt had been
+torn away, but part of the beam had splintered.
+
+"There is nothing more," replied Rouletabille.
+
+He was mistaken. Something occurred to him, an idea flashed so suddenly
+that he became white as his shirt, and had to lean on the arm of the
+gentleman of the Neva in order to accompany him.
+
+The door was open. All the men who had voted his death filed out in
+gloomy silence. The gentleman of the Neva, who seemed charged with the
+last offices for the prisoner, pushed him gently out into the court.
+
+It was vast, and surrounded by a high board wall; some small buildings,
+with closed doors, stood to right and left. A high chimney, partially
+demolished, rose from one corner. Rouletabille decided the whole place
+was part of some old abandoned mill. Above his head the sky was pale as
+a winding sheet. A thunderous, intermittent, rhythmical noise appraised
+him that he could not be far from the sea.
+
+He had plenty of time to note all these things, for they had stopped
+the march to execution a moment and had made him sit down in the open
+courtyard on an old box. A few steps away from him under the shed where
+he certainly was going to be hanged, a man got upon a stool (the stool
+that would serve Rouletabille a few moments later) with his arm raised,
+and drove with a few blows of a mallet a great ring-bolt into a beam
+above his head.
+
+The reporter's eyes, which had not lost their habit of taking everything
+in, rested again on a coarse canvas sack that lay on the ground. The
+young man felt a slight tremor, for he saw quickly that the sack swathed
+a human form. He turned his head away, but only to confront another
+empty sack that was intended for him. Then he closed his eyes. The sound
+of music came from somewhere outside, notes of the balalaika. He said to
+himself, "Well, we certainly are in Finland"; for he knew that, if the
+guzla is Russian the balalaika certainly is Finnish. It is a kind of
+accordeon that the peasants pick plaintively in the doorways of their
+toubas. He had seen and heard them the afternoon that he went to
+Pergalovo, and also a little further away, on the Viborg line. He
+pictured to himself the ruined structure where he now found himself shut
+in with the revolutionary tribunal, as it must appear from the outside
+to passers-by; unsinister, like many others near it, sheltering under
+its decaying roof a few homes of humble workers, resting now as they
+played the balalaika at their thresholds, with the day's labor over.
+
+And suddenly from the ineffable peace of his last evening, while the
+balalaika mourned and the man overhead tested the solidity of his
+ring-bolt, a voice outside, the grave, deep voice of Annouchka, sang for
+the little Frenchman:
+
+    "For whom weave we now the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+     When my hand falls lingering down
+     Who then will bring your crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+
+     O that someone among you would hear,
+     And come, and my lonely hand
+     Would press, and shed the friendly tear--
+     For alone at the end I stand.
+
+     Who now will bring the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?"
+
+Rouletabille listened to the voice dying away with the last sob of the
+balalaika. "It is too sad," he said, rising. "Let us go," and he wavered
+a little.
+
+They came to search him. All was ready above. They pushed him gently
+towards the shed. When he was under the ring-bolt, near the stool, they
+made him turn round and they read him something in Russian, doubtless
+less for him than for those there who did not understand French.
+Rouletabille had hard work to hold himself erect.
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him further:
+
+"Monsieur, we now read you the final formula. It asks you to say
+whether, before you die, you have anything you wish to add to what we
+know concerning the sentence which has been passed upon you."
+
+Rouletabille thought that his saliva, which at that moment he had the
+greatest difficulty in swallowing, would not permit him to utter a word.
+But disdain of such a weakness, when he recalled the coolness of so many
+illustrious condemned people in their last moments, brought him the last
+strength needed to maintain his reputation.
+
+"Why," said he, "this sentence is not wrongly drawn up. I blame it
+only for being too short. Why has there been no mention of the crime I
+committed in contriving the tragic death of poor Michael Korsakoff?"
+
+"Michael Korsakoff was a wretch," pronounced the vindictive voice of the
+young man who had presided at the trial and who, at this supreme moment,
+happened to be face to face with Rouletabille. "Koupriane's police, by
+killing that man, ridded us of a traitor."
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry, a cry of joy, and while he had some reason
+for believing that at the point he had reached now of his too-short
+career only misfortune could befall him, yet here Providence, in his
+infinite grace, sent him before he died this ineffable consolation: the
+certainty that he had not been mistaken.
+
+"Pardon, pardon," he murmured, in an excess of joy which stifled him
+almost as much as the wretched rope would shortly do that they were
+getting ready behind him. "Pardon. One second yet, one little second.
+Then, messieurs, then, we are agreed in that, are we? This Michael,
+Michael Nikolaievitch was the the last of traitors."
+
+"The first," said the heavy voice.
+
+"It is the same thing, my dear monsieur. A traitor, a wretched traitor,"
+continued Rouletabille.
+
+"A poisoner," replied the voice.
+
+"A vulgar poisoner! Is that not so? But, tell me how--a vulgar poisoner
+who, under cover of Nihilism, worked for his own petty ends, worked for
+himself and betrayed you all!"
+
+Now Rouletabille's voice rose like a fanfare. Someone said:
+
+"He did not deceive us long; our enemies themselves undertook his
+punishment."
+
+"It was I," cried Rouletabille, radiant again. "It was I who wound up
+that career. I tell you that was managed right. It was I who rid you of
+him. Ah, I knew well enough, messieurs, in the bottom of my heart I knew
+that I could not be mistaken. Two and two make four always, don't they?
+And Rouletabille is always Rouletabille. Messieurs, it is all right,
+after all."
+
+But it was probable that it was also all wrong, for the gentleman of the
+Neva came up to him hat in hand and said:
+
+"Monsieur, you know now why the witnesses at your trial did not raise a
+fact against you that, on the contrary, was entirely in your favor.
+Now it only remains for us to execute the sentence which is entirely
+justified on other grounds."
+
+"Ah, but--wait a little. What the devil! Now that I am sure I have not
+been mistaken and that I have been myself, Rouletabille, all the time I
+cling to life a little--oh, very much!"
+
+A hostile murmur showed the condemned man that the patience of his
+judges was getting near its limit.
+
+"Monsieur," interposed the president, "we know that you do not belong to
+the orthodox religion; nevertheless, we will bring a priest if you wish
+it."
+
+"Yes, yes, that is it, go for the priest," cried Rouletabille.
+
+And he said to himself, "It is so much time gained."
+
+One of the revolutionaries started over to a little cabin that had been
+transformed into a chapel, while the rest of them looked at the reporter
+with a good deal less sympathy than they had been showing. If his
+bravado had impressed them agreeably in the trial room, they were
+beginning to be rather disgusted by his cries, his protestations and all
+the maneuvers by which he so apparently was trying to hold off the hour
+of his death.
+
+But all at once Rouletabille jumped up onto the fatal stool. They
+believed he had decided finally to make an end of the comedy and die
+with dignity; but he had mounted there only to give them a discourse.
+
+"Messieurs, understand me now. If it is true that you are not
+suppressing me in order to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch, then why do you
+hang me? Why do you inflict this odious punishment on me? Because you
+accuse me of causing Natacha Feodorovna's arrest? Truly I have been
+awkward. Of that, and that alone, I accuse myself."
+
+"It was you, with your revolver, who gave the signal to Koupriane's
+agents! You have done the dirty work for the police."
+
+Rouletabille tried vainly to protest, to explain, to say that his
+revolver shot, on the contrary, had saved the revolutionaries. But no
+one cared to listen and no one believed him.
+
+"Here is the priest, monsieur," said the gentleman of the Neva.
+
+"One second! These are my last words, and I swear to you that after this
+I will pass the rope about my neck myself! But listen to me! Listen to
+me closely! Natacha Feodorovna was the most precious recruit you had,
+was she not?"
+
+"A veritable treasure," declared the president, his voice more and more
+impatient.
+
+"It was a terrible blow, then," continued the reporter, "a terrible blow
+for you, this arrest?"
+
+"Terrible," some of them ejaculated.
+
+"Do not interrupt me! Very well, then, I am going to say this to you:
+'If I ward off this blow--if, after having been the unintentional cause
+of Natacha's arrest, I have the daughter of General Trebassof set at
+liberty, and that within twenty-four hours,--what do you say? Would you
+still hang me?'"
+
+The president, he who had the Christ-like countenance, said:
+
+"Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna has fallen the victim of terrible
+machinations whose mystery we so far have not been able to penetrate.
+She is accused of trying to poison her father and her step-mother,
+and under such conditions that it seems impossible for human reason to
+demonstrate the contrary. Natacha Feodorovna herself, crushed by the
+tragic occurrence, was not able to answer her accusers at all, and her
+silence has been taken for a confession of guilt. Messieurs, Natacha
+Feodorovna will be started for Siberia to-morrow. We can do nothing for
+her. Natacha Feodorovna is lost to us."
+
+Then, with a gesture to those who surrounded Rouletabille:
+
+"Do your duty, messieurs."
+
+"Pardon, pardon. But if I do prove the innocence of Natacha? Just
+wait, messieurs. There is only I who can prove that innocence! You lose
+Natacha by killing me!"
+
+"If you had been able to prove that innocence, monsieur, the thing would
+already be done. You would not have waited."
+
+"Pardon, pardon. It is only at this moment that I have become able to do
+it."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"It is because I was sick, you see--very seriously sick. That affair of
+Michael Nikolaievitch and the poison that still continued after he was
+dead simply robbed me of all my powers. Now that I am sure I have not
+been the means of killing an innocent man--I am Rouletabille again!
+It is not possible that I shall not find the way, that I shall not see
+through this mystery."
+
+The terrible voice of the Christ-like figure said monotonously:
+
+"Do your duty, messieurs."
+
+"Pardon, pardon. This is of great importance to you--and the proof is
+that you have not yet hanged me. You were not so procrastinating with my
+predecessor, were you? You have listened to me because you have hoped!
+Very well, let me think, let me consider. Oh, the devil! I was there
+myself at the fatal luncheon, and I know better than anyone else all
+that happened there. Five minutes! I demand five minutes of you; it is
+not much. Five little minutes!"
+
+These last words of the condemned man seemed to singularly influence the
+revolutionaries. They looked at one another in silence.
+
+Then the president took out his watch and said:
+
+"Five minutes. We grant them to you."
+
+"Put your watch here. Here on this nail. It is five minutes to seven,
+eh? You will give me until the hour?"
+
+"Yes, until the hour. The watch itself will strike when the hour has
+come."
+
+"Ah, it strikes! Like the general's watch, then. Very well, here we
+are."
+
+Then there was the curious spectacle of Rouletabille standing on
+the hangman's stool, the fatal rope hanging above his head, his legs
+crossed, his elbow on his knees in that eternal attitude which Art
+has always given to human thought, his fists under his jaws, his eyes
+fixed--all around him, all those young men intent on his silence, not
+moving a muscle, turned into statues themselves that they might not
+disturb the statue which thought and thought.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII. A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+
+The five minutes ticked away and the watch commenced to strike the
+hour's seven strokes. Did it sound the death of Rouletabille? Perhaps
+not! For at the first silver tinkle they saw Rouletabille shake himself,
+and raise his head, with his face alight and his eyes shining. They saw
+him stand up, spread out his arms and cry:
+
+"I have found it!"
+
+Such joy shone in his countenance that there seemed to be an aureole
+around him, and none of those there doubted that he had the solution of
+the impossible problem.
+
+"I have found it! I have found it!"
+
+They gathered around him. He waved them away as in a waking dream.
+
+"Give me room. I have found it, if my experiment works out. One, two,
+three, four, five..."
+
+What was he doing? He counted his steps now, in long paces, as in
+dueling preliminaries. And the others, all of them, followed him in
+silence, puzzled, but without protest, as if they, too, were caught in
+the same strange day-dream. Steadily counting his steps he crossed
+thus the court, which was vast. "Forty, forty-one, forty-two," he cried
+excitedly. "This is certainly strange, and very promising."
+
+The others, although they did not understand, refrained from questioning
+him, for they saw there was nothing to do but let him go ahead without
+interruption, just as care is taken not to wake a somnambulist abruptly.
+They had no mistrust of his motives, for the idea was simply untenable
+that Rouletabille was fool enough to hope to save himself from them by
+an imbecile subterfuge. No, they yielded to the impression his
+inspired countenance gave them, and several were so affected that they
+unconsciously repeated his gestures. Thus Rouletabille reached the edge
+of the court where judgment had been pronounced against him. There he
+had to mount a rickety flight of stairs, whose steps he counted. He
+reached a corridor, but moving away from the side where the door was
+opening to the exterior he turned toward a staircase leading to the
+upper floor, and still counted the steps as he climbed them. Some of the
+company followed him, others hurried ahead of him. But he did not seem
+aware of either the one or the other, as he walked along living only
+in his thoughts. He reached the landing-place, hesitated, pushed open a
+door, and found himself in a room furnished with a table, two chairs,
+a mattress and a huge cupboard. He went to the cupboard, turned the key
+and opened it. The cupboard was empty. He closed it again and put the
+key in his pocket. Then he went out onto the landing-place again. There
+he asked for the key of the chamber-door he had just left. They gave it
+to him and he locked that door and put that key also in his pocket. Now
+he returned into the court. He asked for a chair. It was brought him.
+Immediately he placed his head in his hands, thinking hard, took the
+chair and carried it over a little behind the shed. The Nihilists
+watched everything he did and they did not smile, because men do not
+smile when death waits at the end of things, however foolish.
+
+Finally, Rouletabille spoke:
+
+"Messieurs," said he, his voice low and shaken, because he knew that
+now he touched the decisive minute, after which there could only be an
+irrevocable fate. "Messieurs, in order to continue my experiment I am
+obliged to go through movements that might suggest to you the idea of an
+attempt at escape, or evasion. I hope you don't regard me as fool enough
+to have any such thought."
+
+"Oh, monsieur," said the chief, "you are free to go through all the
+maneuvers you wish. No one escapes us. Outside we should have you
+within arm's reach quite as well as here. And, besides, it is entirely
+impossible to escape from here."
+
+"Very well. Then that is understood. In such a case, I ask you now to
+remain just where you are and not to budge, whatever I do, if you don't
+wish to inconvenience me. Only please send someone now up to the next
+floor, where I am going to go again, and let him watch what happens from
+there, but without interfering. And don't speak a word to me during the
+experiment."
+
+Two of the revolutionaries went to the upper floor, and opened a window
+in order to keep track of what went on in the court. All now showed
+their intense interest in the acts and gestures of Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter placed himself in the shed, between his death-stool and his
+hanging-rope.
+
+"Ready," said he; "I am going to begin"
+
+And suddenly he jumped like a wild man, crossed the court in a straight
+line like a flash, disappeared in the touba, bounded up the staircase,
+felt in his pocket and drew out the keys, opened the door of the chamber
+he had locked, closed it and locked it again, turned right-about-face,
+came down again in the same haste, reached the court, and this time
+swerved to the chair, went round it, still running, and returned at the
+same speed to the shed. He no sooner reached there than he uttered a cry
+of triumph as he glanced at the watch banging from a post. "I have won,"
+he said, and threw himself with a happy thrill upon the fatal scaffold.
+They surrounded him, and he read the liveliest curiosity in all their
+faces. Panting still from his mad rush, he asked for two words apart
+with the chief of the Secret committee.
+
+The man who had pronounced judgment and who had the bearing of Jesus
+advanced, and there was a brief exchange of words between the two
+young men. The others drew back and waited at a distance, in impressive
+silence, the outcome of this mysterious colloquy, which certainly would
+settle Rouletabille's fate.
+
+"Messieurs," said the chief, "the young Frenchman is going to be allowed
+to leave. We give him twenty-four hours to set Natacha Feodorovna free.
+In twenty-four hours, if he has not succeeded, he will return here to
+give himself up."
+
+A happy murmur greeted these words. The moment their chief spoke thus,
+they felt sure of Natacha's fate.
+
+The chief added:
+
+"As the liberation of Natacha Feodorovna will be followed, the young
+Frenchman says, by that of our companion Matiew, we decide that, if
+these two conditions are fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille is allowed to
+return in entire security to France, which he ought never to have left."
+
+Two or three only of the group said, "That lad is playing with us; it is
+not possible."
+
+But the chief declared:
+
+"Let the lad try. He accomplishes miracles."
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX. THE TSAR
+
+"I have escaped by remarkable luck," cried Rouletabille, as he found
+himself, in the middle of the night, at the corner of the Katharine and
+the Aptiekarski Pereoulok Canals, while the mysterious carriage which
+had brought him there returned rapidly toward the Grande Ecurie. "What a
+country! What a country!"
+
+He ran a little way to the Grand Morskaia, which was near, entered the
+hotel like a bomb, dragged the interpreter from his bed, demanded that
+his bill be made out and that he be told the time of the next train for
+Tsarskoie-Coelo. The interpreter told him that he could not have his
+bill at such an hour, that he could not leave town without his passport
+and that there was no train for Tsarskoie-Coelo, and Rouletabille made
+an outcry that woke the whole hotel. The guests, fearing always "une
+scandale," kept close to their rooms. But Monsieur le directeur came
+down, trembling. When he found all that it was about he was inclined to
+be peremptory, but Rouletabille, who had seen "Michael Strogoff" played,
+cried, "Service of the Tsar!" which turned him submissive as a sheep. He
+made out the young man's bill and gave him his passport, which had been
+brought back by the police during the afternoon. Rouletabille rapidly
+wrote a message to Koupriane's address, which the messenger was directed
+to have delivered without a moment's delay, under the pain of death! The
+manager humbly promised and the reporter did not explain that by "pain
+of death" he referred to his own. Then, having ascertained that as a
+matter of fact the last train had left for Tsarskoie-Coelo, he ordered a
+carriage and hurried to his room to pack.
+
+And he, ordinarily so detailed, so particular in his affairs, threw
+things every which way, linen, garments, with kicks and shoves. It was
+a relief after the emotions he had gone through. "What a country!" he
+never ceased to ejaculate. "What a country!"
+
+Then the carriage was ready, with two little Finnish horses, whose gait
+he knew well, an evil-looking driver, who none the less would get him
+there; the trunk; roubles to the domestics. "Spacibo, barine. Spacibo."
+(Thank you, monsieur. Thank you.)
+
+The interpreter asked what address he should give the driver.
+
+"The home of the Tsar."
+
+The interpreter hesitated, believing it to be an unbecoming pleasantry,
+then waved vaguely to the driver, and the horses started.
+
+"What a curious trot! We have no idea of that in France," thought
+Rouletabille. "France! France! Paris! Is it possible that soon I shall
+be back! And that dear Lady in Black! Ah, at the first opportunity I
+must send her a dispatch of my return--before she receives those ikons,
+and the letters announcing my death. Scan! Scan! Scan! (Hurry!)"
+
+The isvotchick pounded his horses, crowding past the dvornicks who
+watched at the corners of the houses during the St. Petersburg night.
+"Dirigi! dirigi! dirigi! (Look out!)"
+
+The country, somber in the somber night. The vast open country. What
+monotonous desolation! Rapidly, through the vast silent spaces, the
+little car glided over the lonely route into the black arms of the
+pines.
+
+Rouletabille, holding on to his seat, looked about him.
+
+"God! this is as sad as a funeral display."
+
+Little frozen huts, no larger than tombs, occasionally indicated the
+road, but there was no mark of life in that country except the noise of
+the journey and the two beasts with steaming coats.
+
+Crack! One of the shafts broken. "What a country!" To hear Rouletabille
+one would suppose that only in Russia could the shaft of a carriage
+break.
+
+The repair was difficult and crude, with bits of rope. And from then
+on the journey was slow and cautious after the frenzied speed. In vain
+Rouletabille reasoned with himself. "You will arrive anyway before
+morning. You cannot wake the Emperor in the dead of night." His
+impatience knew no reason. "What a country! What a country!"
+
+After some other petty adventures (they ran into a ravine and
+had tremendous difficulty rescuing the trunk) they arrived at
+Tsarskoie-Coelo at a quarter of seven.
+
+Even here the country was not pleasant. Rouletabille recalled the bright
+awakening of French country. Here it seemed there was something more
+dead than death: it was this little city with its streets where no one
+passed, not a soul, not a phantom, with its houses so impenetrable,
+the windows even of glazed glass and further blinded by the morning
+hoar-frost shutting out light more thoroughly than closed eyelids.
+Behind them he pictured to himself a world unknown, a world which
+neither spoke nor wept, nor laughed, a world in which no living chord
+resounded. "What a country! 'Where is the chateau? I do not know; I have
+been here only once, in the marshal's carriage. I do not know the way.
+Not the great palace! The idiot of a driver has brought me to this great
+palace in order to see it, I haven't a doubt. Does Rouletabille look
+like a tourist? Dourak! The home of the Tsar, I tell you. The Tsar's
+residence. The place where the Little Father lives. Chez Batouchka!"
+
+The driver lashed his ponies. He drove past all the streets. "Stoi!
+(Stop!)" cried Rouletabille. A gate, a soldier, musket at shoulder,
+bayonet in play; another gate, another soldier, another bayonet; a park
+with walls around it, and around the walls more soldiers.
+
+"No mistake; here is the place," thought Rouletabille. There was only
+one prisoner for whom such pains would be taken. He advanced towards the
+gate. Ah! They crossed bayonets under his nose. Halt! No fooling, Joseph
+Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque." A subaltern came from a guard-house and
+advanced toward him. Explanation evidently was going to be difficult.
+The young man saw that if he demanded to see the Tsar, they would think
+him crazed and that would further complicate matters. He asked for the
+Grand-Marshal of the Court. They replied that he could get the Marshal's
+address in Tsarskoie. But the subaltern turned his head. He saw someone
+advancing. It was the Grand-Marshal himself. Some exceptional service
+called him, without doubt, very early to the Court.
+
+"Why, what are you doing here? You are not yet gone then, Monsieur
+Rouletabille?"
+
+"Politeness before everything, Monsieur le Grand-Marechal! I would not
+go before saying 'Au revoir' to the Emperor. Be so good, since you are
+going to him and he has risen (you yourself have told me he rises at
+seven), be so good as to say to him that I wish to pay my respects
+before leaving."
+
+"Your scheme, doubtless, is to speak to him once more regarding Natacha
+Feodorovna?"
+
+"Not at all. Tell him, Excellency, that I am come to explain the mystery
+of the eider downs."
+
+"Ah, ah, the eider downs! You know something?"
+
+"I know all."
+
+The Grand Marshal saw that the young man did not pretend. He asked him
+to wait a few minutes, and vanished into the park.
+
+A quarter of an hour later, Joseph Rouletabille, of the journal
+"L'Epoque," was admitted into the cabinet that he knew well from the
+first interview he had had there with His Majesty. The simple work-room
+of a country-house: a few pictures on the walls, portraits of the
+Tsarina and the imperial children on the table; Oriental cigarettes in
+the tiny gold cups. Rouletabille was far from feeling any assurance, for
+the Grand-Marshal had said to him:
+
+"Be cautious. The Emperor is in a terrible humor about you."
+
+A door opened and closed. The Tsar made a sign to the Marshal, who
+disappeared. Rouletabille bowed low, then watched the Emperor closely.
+
+Quite apparently His Majesty was displeased. The face of the Tsar,
+ordinarily so calm, so pleasant, and smiling, was severe, and his eyes
+had an angry light. He seated himself and lighted a cigarette.
+
+"Monsieur," he commenced, "I am not otherwise sorry to see you before
+your departure in order to say to you myself that I am not at all
+pleased with you. If you were one of my subjects I would have already
+started you on the road to the Ural Mountains."
+
+"I remove myself farther, Sire."
+
+"Monsieur, I pray you not to interrupt me and not to speak unless I ask
+you a question."
+
+"Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon."
+
+"I am not duped by the pretext you have offered Monsieur le
+Grand-Marechal in order to penetrate here."
+
+"It is not a pretext, Sire."
+
+"Again!"
+
+"Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon."
+
+"I say to you that, called here to aid me against my enemies, they
+themselves have not found a stronger or more criminal support than in
+you."
+
+"Of what am I accused, Sire?"
+
+"Koupriane--"
+
+"Ah! Ah! ... Pardon!"
+
+"My Chief of Police justly complains that you have traversed all his
+designs and that you have taken it upon yourself to ruin them. First,
+you removed his agents, who inconvenienced you, it seems; then, the
+moment that he had the proof in hand of the abominable alliance of
+Natacha Feodorovna with the Nihilists who attempt the assassination of
+her father your intervention has permitted that proof to escape him. And
+you have boasted of the feat, monsieur, so that we can only consider you
+responsible for the attempts that followed.
+
+"Without you, Natacha would not have attempted to poison her father.
+Without you, they would not have sent to find physicians who could blow
+up the datcha des Iles. Finally, no later than yesterday, when this
+faithful servant of mine had set a trap they could not have escaped
+from, you have had the audacity, you, to warn them of it. They owe their
+escape to you. Monsieur, those are attempts against the security of the
+State which deserves the heaviest punishment. Why, you went out one day
+from here promising me to save General Trebassof from all the plotting
+assassins who lurked about him. And then you play the game of the
+assassins! Your conduct is as miserable as that of Natacha Feodorovna is
+monstrous!"
+
+The Emperor ceased, and looked at Rouletabille, who had not lowered his
+eyes.
+
+"What can you say for yourself? Speak--now."
+
+"I can only say to Your Majesty that I come to take leave of you because
+my task here is finished. I have promised you the life of General
+Trebassof, and I bring it to you. He runs no danger any more! I say
+further to Your Majesty that there exists nowhere in the world a
+daughter more devoted to her father, even to the death, a daughter more
+sublime than Natacha Feodorovna, nor more innocent."
+
+"Be careful, monsieur. I inform you that I have studied this affair
+personally and very closely. You have the proofs of these statements you
+advance?"
+
+"Yes, Sire."
+
+"And I, I have the proofs that Natacha Feodorovna is a renegade."
+
+At this contradiction, uttered in a firm voice, the Emperor stirred,
+a flush of anger and of outraged majesty in his face. But, after this
+first movement, he succeeded in controlling himself, opened a drawer
+brusquely, took out some papers and threw them on the table.
+
+"Here they are."
+
+Rouletabille reached for the papers.
+
+"You do not read Russian, monsieur. I will translate their purport for
+you. Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of letters
+between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary Committee,
+and that these letters show the daughter of General Trebassof to be in
+perfect accord with the assassins of her father for the execution of
+their abominable project."
+
+"The death of the general?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible."
+
+"Obstinate man! I will read--"
+
+"Useless, Sire. It is impossible. There may be in them the question of
+a project, but I am greatly surprised if these conspirators have been
+sufficiently imprudent to write in those letters that they count on
+Natacha to poison her father."
+
+"That, as a matter of fact, is not written, and you yourself are
+responsible for it not being there. It does not follow any the less that
+Natacha Feodorovna had an understanding with the Nihilists."
+
+"That is correct, Sire."
+
+"Ah, you confess that?"
+
+"I do not confess; I simply affirm that Natacha had an understanding
+with the Nihilists."
+
+"Who plotted their abominable attacks against the ex-Governor of
+Moscow."
+
+"Sire, since Natacha had an understanding with the Nihilists, it was not
+to kill her father, but to save him. And the project of which you hold
+here the proofs, but of whose character you are unaware, is to end the
+attacks of which you speak, instantly."
+
+"You say that."
+
+"I speak the truth, Sire."
+
+"Where are the proofs? Show me your papers."
+
+"I have none. I have only my word."
+
+"That is not sufficient."
+
+"It will be sufficient, once you have heard me."
+
+"I listen."
+
+"Sire, before revealing to you a secret on which depends the life of
+General Trebassof, you must permit me some questions. Your Majesty holds
+the life of the general very dear?"
+
+"What has that to do with it?"
+
+"Pardon. I desire that Your Majesty assure me on that point."
+
+"The general has protected my throne. He has saved the Empire from one
+of the greatest dangers that it has ever run. If the servant who has
+done such a service should be rewarded by death, by the punishment that
+the enemies of my people prepare for him in the darkness, I should never
+forgive myself. There have been too many martyrs already!"
+
+"You have replied to me, Sire, in such a way that you make me understand
+there is no sacrifice--even to the sacrifice of your amour-propre the
+greatest a ruler can suffer--no sacrifice too dear to ransom from death
+one of these martyrs."
+
+"Ah, ah! These gentlemen lay down conditions to me! Money. Money. They
+need money. And at how much do they rate the head of the general?"
+
+"Sire, that does not touch Your Majesty, and I never will come to offer
+you such a bargain. That matter concerns only Natacha Feodorovna, who
+has offered her fortune!"
+
+"Her fortune! But she has nothing."
+
+"She will have one at the death of the general. Now she engages to give
+it all to the Revolutionary Committee the day the general dies--if he
+dies a natural death!"
+
+The Emperor rose, greatly agitated.
+
+"To the Revolutionary Party! What do you tell me! The fortune of the
+general! Eh, but these are great riches."
+
+"Sire, I have told you the secret. You alone should know it and guard it
+forever, and I have your sacred word that, when the hour comes, you will
+let the prize go where it is promised. If the general ever learns of
+such a thing, such a treaty, he would easily arrange that nothing should
+remain, and he would denounce his daughter who has saved him, and then
+he would promptly be the prey of his enemies and yours, from whom you
+wish to save him. I have told the secret not to the Emperor, but to the
+representative of God on the Russian earth. I have confessed it to the
+priest, who is bound to forget the words uttered only before God. Allow
+Natacha Feodorovna her own way, Sire! And her father, your servant,
+whose life is so dear to you, is saved. At the natural death of the
+general his fortune will go to his daughter, who has disposed of it."
+
+Rouletabille stopped a moment to judge of the effect produced. It was
+not good. The face of his august listener was more and more in a frown.
+
+The silence continued, and now the reporter did not dare to break it. He
+waited.
+
+Finally, the Emperor rose and walked forward and backward across the
+room, deep in thought. For a moment he stopped at the window and waved
+paternally to the little Tsarevitch, who played in the park with the
+grand-duchesses.
+
+Then he returned to Rouletabille and pinched his ear.
+
+"But, tell me, how have you learned all this? And who then has poisoned
+the general and his wife, in the kiosk, if not Natacha?"
+
+"Natacha is a saint. It is nothing, Sire, that she has been raised in
+luxury, and vows herself to misery; but it is sublime that she guards
+in her heart the secret of her sacrifice from everyone, and, in spite of
+all, because secrecy is necessary and has been required of her. See her
+guarding it before her father, who has been brought to believe in the
+dishonor of his daughter, and still to be silent when a word would have
+proved her innocent; guarding it face to face with her fiance, whom she
+loves, and repulses because marriage is forbidden to the girl who is
+supposed to be rich and who will be poor; guarding it, above all--and
+guarding it still--in the depths of the dungeon, and ready to take the
+road to Siberia under the accusation of assassination, because that
+ignominy is necessary for the safety of her father. That, Sire--oh,
+Sire, do you see!"
+
+"But you, how have you been able to penetrate into this guarded secret?"
+
+"By watching her eyes. By observing, when she believed herself alone,
+the look of terror and the gleams of love. And, beyond all, by looking
+at her when she was looking at her father. Ah, Sire, there were moments
+when on her mystic face one could read the wild joy and devotion of the
+martyr. Then, by listening and by piecing together scraps of phrases
+inconsistent with the idea of treachery, but which immediately acquired
+meaning if one thought of the opposite, of sacrifice. Ah, that is it,
+Sire! Consider always the alternative motive. What I finally could see
+myself, the others, who had a fixed opinion about Natacha, could not
+see. And why had they their fixed opinion? Simply because the idea of
+compromise with the Nihilists aroused at once the idea of complicity!
+For such people it is always the same thing--they never can see but
+the one side of the situation. But, nevertheless, the situation had two
+sides, as all situations have. The question was simple. The compromise
+was certain. But why had Natacha compromised herself with the Nihilists?
+Was it necessarily in order to lose her father? Might it not be, on the
+contrary, in order to save him? When one has rendezvous with an enemy it
+is not necessarily to enter into his game, sometimes it is to disarm
+him with an offer. Between these two hypotheses, which I alone took the
+trouble to examine, I did not hesitate long, because Natacha's every
+attitude proclaimed her innocence: and her eyes, Sire, in which one
+read purity and love, prevailed always with me against all the passing
+appearances of disgrace and crime.
+
+"I saw that Natacha negotiated with them. But what had she to place in
+the scales against the life of her father? Nothing--except the fortune
+that she would have one day.
+
+"Some words she spoke about the impossibility of immediate marriage,
+about poverty which could always knock at the door of any mansion,
+remarks that I was able to overhear between Natacha and Boris Mourazoff,
+which to him meant nothing, put me definitely on the right road. And I
+was not long in ascertaining that the negotiations in this formidable
+affair were taking place in the very house of Trebassof! Pursued without
+by the incessant spying of Koupriane, who sought to surprise her
+in company with the Nihilists, watched closely, too, by the jealous
+supervision of Boris, who was jealous of Michael Nikolaievitch, she
+had to seize the only opportunities possible for such negotiations, at
+night, in her own home, the sole place where, by the very audacity of
+it, she was able to play her part in any security.
+
+"Michael Nikolaievitch knew Annouchka. There was certainly the point of
+departure for the negotiations which that felon-officer, traitor to
+all sides, worked at will toward the realization of his own infamous
+project. I do not think that Michael ever confided to Natacha that
+he was, from the very first, the instrument of the revolutionaries.
+Natacha, who sought to get in touch with the revolutionary party, had
+to entrust him with a correspondence for Annouchka, following which he
+assumed direction of the affair, deceiving the Nihilists, who, in
+their absolute penury, following the revolt, had been seduced by the
+proposition of General Trebassof's daughter, and deceiving Natacha,
+whom he pretended to love and by whom he believed himself loved. At this
+point in the affair Natacha came to understand that it was necessary to
+propitiate Michael Nikolaievitch, her indispensable intermediary, and
+she managed to do it so well that Boris Mourazoff felt the blackest
+jealousy. On his side, Michael came to believe that Natacha would
+have no other husband than himself, but he did not propose to marry a
+penniless girl! And, fatally, it followed that Natacha, in that infernal
+intrigue, negotiated for the life of her father through the agency of a
+man who, underhandedly, sought to strike at the general himself, because
+the immediate death of her father before the negotiation was completed
+would enrich Natacha, who had given Michael so much to hope. That
+frightful tragedy, Sire, in which we have lived our most painful hours,
+appeared to me, confident of Natacha's innocence, as absolutely simple
+as for the others it seemed complicated. Natacha believed she had in
+Michael Nikolaievitch a man who worked for her, but he worked only for
+himself. The day that I was convinced of it, Sire, by my examination of
+the approach to the balcony, I had a mind to warn Natacha, to go to her
+and say, 'Get rid of that man. He will betray you. If you need an agent,
+I am at your service.' But that day, at Krestowsky, destiny prevented my
+rejoining Natacha; and I must attribute it to destiny, which would not
+permit the loss of that man. Michael Nikolaievitch, who was a traitor,
+was too much in the 'combination,' and if he had been rejected he would
+have ruined everything. I caused him to disappear! The great misfortune
+then was that Natacha, holding me responsible for the death of a man she
+believed innocent, never wished to see me again, and, when she did see
+me, refused to have any conversation with me because I proposed that I
+take Michael's place for her with the revolutionaries. She would have
+nothing to do with me in order to protect her secret. Meantime, the
+Nihilists believed they were betrayed by Natacha when they learned of
+the death of Michael, and they undertook to avenge him. They seized
+Natacha, and bore her off by force. The unhappy girl learned then, that
+same evening, of the attack which destroyed the datcha and, happily,
+still spared her father. This time she reached a definite understanding
+with the revolutionary party. Her bargain was made. I offer you for
+proof of it only her attitude when she was arrested, and, even in that
+moment, her sublime silence."
+
+While Rouletabille urged his view, the Emperor let him talk on and on,
+and now his eyes were dim.
+
+"Is it possible that Natacha has not been the accomplice, in all, of
+Michael Nikolaievitch?" he demanded. "It was she who opened her father's
+house to him that night. If she was not his accomplice she would have
+mistrusted him, she would have watched him."
+
+"Sire, Michael Nikolaievitch was a very clever man. He knew so well how
+to play upon Natacha, and Annouchka, in whom she placed all her hope.
+It was from Annouchka that she wished to hold the life of her father. It
+was the word, the signature of Annouchka that she demanded before giving
+her own. The evening Michael Nikolaievitch died, he was charged to bring
+her that signature. I know it, myself, because, pretending drunkenness,
+I was able to overhear enough of a conversation between Annouchka and
+a man whose name I must conceal. Yes, that last evening, Michael
+Nikolaievitch, when he entered the datcha, had the signature in his
+pocket, but also he carried the weapon or the poison with which he
+already had attempted and was resolved to reach the father of her whom
+he believed was assuredly to be his wife."
+
+"You speak now of a paper, very precious, that I regret not to possess,
+monsieur," said the Tsar coldly, "because that paper alone would have
+proved to me the innocence of your protegee."
+
+"If you have not it, Sire, you know well that it is because I have
+wished you to have it. The corpse had been searched by Katharina, the
+little Bohemian, and I, Sire, prevented Koupriane from finding that
+signature in Katharina's possession. In saving the secret I have saved
+General Trebassof's life, who would have preferred to die rather than
+accept such an arrangement."
+
+The Tsar stopped Rouletabille in his enthusiastic outburst.
+
+"All that would be very beautiful and perhaps admirable," said he, more
+and more coldly, because he had entirely recovered himself, "if Natacha
+had not, herself, with her own hand, poisoned her father and her
+step-mother!--always with arsenate of soda."
+
+"Oh, some of that had been left in the house," replied Rouletabille.
+"They had not given me all of it for the analysis after the first
+attempt. But Natacha is innocent of that, Sire. I swear it to you. As
+true as that I have certainly escaped being hanged."
+
+"How, hanged?"
+
+"Oh, it has not amounted to much now, Your Majesty."
+
+And Rouletabille recounted his sinister adventure, up to the moment
+of his death, or, rather, up to the moment when he had believed he was
+going to die.
+
+The Emperor listened to the young reporter with complete stupefaction.
+He murmured, "Poor lad!" then, suddenly:
+
+"But how have you managed to escape them?"
+
+"Sire they have given me twenty-four hours for you to set Natacha at
+liberty, that is to say, that you restore her to her rights, all her
+rights, and she be always the recognized heiress of Trebassof. Do you
+understand me, Sire?
+
+"I will understand you, perhaps, when you have explained to me how
+Natacha has not poisoned her father and step-mother."
+
+"There are some things so simple, Sire, that one is able to think of
+them only with a rope around one's neck. But let us reason it out. We
+have here four persons, two of whom have been poisoned and the other two
+with them have not been. Now, it is certain that, of the four persons,
+the general has not wished to poison himself, that his wife has not
+wished to poison the general, and that, as for me, I have not wished
+to poison anybody. That, if we are absolutely sure of it, leaves as the
+poisoner only Natacha. That is so certain, so inevitable, that there is
+only one case, one alone, where, in such conditions, Natacha would not
+be regarded as the poisoner."
+
+"I confess that, logically, I do not see," said the Tsar, "anything
+beyond that but more and more of a tangle. What is it?"
+
+"Logically, the only case would be that where no one had been poisoned,
+that is to say, where no one had taken any poison."
+
+"But the presence of the poison has been established!" cried the
+Emperor.
+
+"Still, the presence of the poison proves only its presence, not the
+crime. Both poison and ipecac were found in the stomach expulsions. From
+which a crime has been concluded. What state of affairs was necessary
+for there to have been no crime? Simply that the poison should have
+appeared in the expulsions after the ipecac. Then there would have been
+no poisoning, but everyone would believe there had been. And, for that,
+someone would have poured the poison into the expulsions."
+
+The Tsar never quitted Rouletabille's eyes.
+
+"That is extraordinary," said he. "But of course it is possible. In any
+case, it is still only an hypothesis.
+
+"And so long as it could be an hypothesis that no one thought of, it
+could be just that, Sire. But if I am here, it is because I have the
+proof that that hypothesis corresponds to the reality. That necessary
+proof of Natacha's innocence, Your Majesty, I have found with the
+rope around my neck. Ah, I tell you it was time! What has hindered
+us hitherto, I do not say to realize, but even to think, of that
+hypothesis? Simply that we thought the illness of the general had
+commenced before the absorption of the ipecac, since Matrena Petrovna
+had been obliged to go for it to her medicine-closet after his illness
+commenced, in order to counteract the poison of which she also appeared
+to be the victim.
+
+"But, if I acquire proof that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac at
+hand before the sickness, my hypothesis of pretense at poisoning has
+irresistible force. Because, if it was not to use it before, why did she
+have it with her before? And if it was not that she wished to hide the
+fact that she had used it before, why did she wish to make believe that
+she went to find it afterwards?
+
+"Then, in order to show Natacha's innocence, here is what must be
+proved: that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac on her, even when she went
+to look for it."
+
+"Young Rouletabille, I hardly breathe," said the Tsar.
+
+"Breathe, Sire. The proof is here. Matrena Petrovna necessarily had the
+ipecac on her, because after the sickness she had not the time for going
+to find it. Do you understand, Sire? Between the moment when she fled
+from the kiosk and when she returned there, she had not the actual time
+to go to her medicine-closet to find the ipecac."
+
+"How have you been able to compute the time?" asked the Emperor.
+
+"Sire, the Lord God directed, Who made me admire Feodor Feodorovitch's
+watch just when we went to read, and to read on the dial of that watch
+two minutes to the hour, and the Lord God directed yet, Who, after the
+scene of the poison, at the time Matrena returned carrying the ipecac
+publicly, made the hour strike from that watch in the general's pocket.
+
+"Two minutes. It was impossible for Matrena to have covered that
+distance in two minutes. She could only have entered the deserted datcha
+and left it again instantly. She had not taken the trouble to mount to
+the floor above, where, she told us and repeated when she returned, the
+ipecac was in the medicine-closet. She lied! And if she lied, all is
+explained.
+
+"It was the striking of a watch, Sire, with a striking apparatus and a
+sound like the general's, there in the quarters of the revolutionaries,
+that roused my memory and indicated to me in a second this argument of
+the time.
+
+"I got down from my gallows-scaffold, Your Majesty, to experiment on
+that time-limit. Oh, nothing and nobody could have prevented my making
+that experiment before I died, to prove to myself that Rouletabille had
+all along been right. I had studied the grounds around the datcha enough
+to be perfectly exact about the distances. I found in the court where I
+was to be hanged the same number of steps that there were from the
+kiosk to the steps of the veranda, and, as the staircase of the
+revolutionaries had fewer steps, I lengthened my journey a few steps by
+walking around a chair. Finally, I attended to the opening and closing
+of the doors that Matrena would have had to do. I had looked at a watch
+when I started. When I returned, Sire, and looked at the watch again, I
+had taken three minutes to cover the distance--and it is not for me to
+boast, but I am a little livelier than the excellent Matrena.
+
+"Matrena had lied. Matrena had simulated the poisoning of the general.
+Matrena had coolly poured ipecac in the general's glass while we were
+illustrating with matches a curious-enough theory of the nature of the
+constitution of the empire."
+
+"But this is abominable!" cried the Emperor, this time definitely
+convinced by the intricate argument of Rouletabille. "And what end could
+this imitation serve?'"
+
+"The end of preventing the real crime! The end that she believed herself
+to have attained, Sire, to have Natacha removed forever--Natacha whom
+she believed capable of any crime."
+
+"Oh, it is monstrous! Feodor Feodorovitch has often told me that Matrena
+loved Natacha sincerely."
+
+"She loved her sincerely up to the day that she believed her
+guilty. Matrena Petrovna was sure of Natacha's complicity in Michael
+Nikolaievitch's attempt to poison the general. I shared her stupor, her
+despair, when Feodor Feodorovitch took his daughter in his arms after
+that tragic night, and embraced her. He seemed to absolve her. It was
+then that Matrena resolved within herself to save the general in spite
+of himself, but I remain persuaded that, if she had dared such a plan
+against Natacha, it would only be because of what she believed definite
+proof of her step-daughter's infamy. These papers, Sire, that you have
+shown me, and which show, if nothing more, an understanding between
+Natacha and the revolutionaries, could only have been in the possession
+of Michael or of Natacha. Nothing was found in Michael's quarters. Tell
+me, then, that Matrena found them in Natacha's apartment. Then, she did
+not hesitate!"
+
+"If one outlined her crime to her, do you believe she would confess it?"
+asked the Emperor.
+
+"I am so sure of it that I have had her brought here. By now Koupriane
+should be here at the chateau, with Matrena Petrovna."
+
+"You think of everything, monsieur."
+
+The Tsar moved to ring a bell. Rouletabille raised his hand.
+
+"Not yet, Sire. I ask that you permit me not to be present at the
+confusion of that brave, heroic, good woman who has loved me much. But
+before I go, Sire--do you promise me?"
+
+The Emperor believed he had not heard correctly or did not grasp the
+meaning. He repeated what Rouletabille had said. The young reporter
+repeated it once more:
+
+"Do you promise? No, Sire, I am not mad. I dare to ask you that. I have
+confided my honor to Your Majesty. I have told you Natacha's secret.
+Well, now, before Matrena's confession, I dare to ask you: Promise me
+to forget that secret. It will not suffice merely to give Natacha back
+again to her father. It is necessary to leave her course open to her--if
+you really wish to save General Trebassof. What do you decide, Sire?"
+
+"It is the first time anyone has questioned me, monsieur."
+
+"Ah, well, it will be the last. But I humbly beg Your Majesty to reply."
+
+"That would be many millions given to the Revolution."
+
+"Oh, Sire, they are not given yet. The general is sixty-five, but he has
+many years ahead of him, if you wish it. By the time he dies--a natural
+death, if you wish it--your enemies will have disarmed."
+
+"My enemies!" murmured the Tsar in a low voice. "No, no; my enemies
+never will disarm. Who, then, will be able to disarm them?" added he,
+melancholily, shaking his head.
+
+"Progress, Sire! If you wish it."
+
+The Tsar turned red and looked at the audacious young man, who met the
+gaze of His Majesty frankly.
+
+"It is kind of you to say that, my young friend. But you speak as a
+child."
+
+"As a child of France to the Father of the Russian people."
+
+It was said in a voice so solemn and, at the same time, so naively
+touching, that the Tsar started. He gazed again for some time in silence
+at this boy who, this time, turned away his brimming eyes.
+
+"Progress and pity, Sire."
+
+"Well," said the Emperor, "it is promised."
+
+Rouletabille was not able to restrain a joyous movement hardly in
+keeping.
+
+"You can ring now, Sire."
+
+And the Tsar rang.
+
+The reporter passed into a little salon, where he found the Marshal,
+Koupriane and Matrena Petrovna, who was "in a state."
+
+She threw a suspicious glance at Rouletabille, who was not treated this
+morning as the dear little domovoi-doukh. She permitted herself to be
+conducted, already trembling, before the Emperor.
+
+"What happened?" asked Koupriane agitatedly.
+
+"It so happened, my dear Monsieur Koupriane, that I have the pardon of
+the Emperor for all the crimes you have charged against me, and that I
+wish to shake hands before I go, without any rancor. Monsieur Koupriane,
+the Emperor will tell you himself that General Trebassof is saved,
+and that his life will never be in danger any more. Do you know what
+follows? It follows that you must at once set Matiew free, whom I have
+taken, if you remember, under my protection. Tell him that he is going
+to make his way in France. I will find him a place on condition that he
+forgets certain lashes."
+
+"Such a promise! Such an attitude toward me!" cried Koupriane. "But I
+will wait for the Emperor to tell me all these fine things. And your
+Natacha, what do you do with her?"
+
+"We release her also, monsieur. Natacha never has been the monster that
+you think."
+
+"How can you say that? Someone at least is guilty."
+
+"There are two guilty. The first, Monsieur le Marechal."
+
+"What!" cried the Marshal.
+
+"Monsieur le Marechal, who had the imprudence to bring such dangerous
+grapes to the datcha des Iles, and--and--"
+
+"And the other?" asked Koupriane, more and more anxiously.
+
+"Listen there," said Rouletabille, pointing toward the Emperor's
+cabinet.
+
+The sound of tears and sobs reached them. The grief and the remorse
+of Matrena Petrovna passed the walls of the cabinet. Koupriane was
+completely disconcerted.
+
+Suddenly the Emperor appeared. He was in a state of exaltation such as
+had never been known in him. Koupriane, dismayed, drew back.
+
+"Monsieur," said the Tsar to him, "I require that Natacha Feodorovna
+be here within the next two hours, and that she be conducted with the
+honors due to her rank. Natacha is innocent, and we must make reparation
+to her."
+
+Then, turning toward Rouletabille:
+
+"I have learned what she knows and what she owes to you--we owe to you,
+my young friend."
+
+The Tsar said "my young friend." Rouletabille, at this last moment
+before his departure, spoke Russian?
+
+"Then she knows nothing, Sire. That is better, Sire, because Your
+Majesty and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know anything."
+
+"You are right," said the Tsar thoughtfully. "But, my friend, what am I
+to do for you?"
+
+"Sire, one favor. Do not let me miss the train at 10:55."
+
+And he threw himself on his knees.
+
+"Remain on your knees, my friend. You are ready, thus. Monsieur le
+Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately sign.
+Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet, one of my St.
+Anne's collars."
+
+And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque," was created
+officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him the
+accolade.
+
+"They combine the whole course of time in this country," thought
+Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.
+
+For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo
+station. Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the young
+reporter's hand when they learned of his impending departure were
+Ivan Petrovitch, the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and Athanase
+Georgevitch, the lively advocate so well known for his famous exploits
+with knife and fork. They had come naturally with all their bandages and
+dressings, which made them look like glorious ruins. They brought the
+greetings of Feodor Feodorovitch, who still had a little fever, and of
+Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the Lithuanian, who had both legs broken.
+
+Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his last
+drink of champagne. When nothing remained in the bottle and everyone
+had embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not start quite yet,
+Athanase Georgevitch opened a second "last" bottle. It was then that
+Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath. They invited him
+to drink, and he accepted. But he had need to speak to Rouletabille in
+private, and he drew the reporter, after excuses, out into the corridor.
+
+"It is the Emperor himself who has sent me," said the high dignitary
+with emotion. "He has sent me about the eider downs. You forgot to
+explain the eider downs to him."
+
+"Niet!" replied Rouletabille, laughing. "That is nothing. Nitchevo! His
+Majesty's eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the feathers
+that you have shown me demonstrates. Well, open them now. They are a
+cheap imitation, as the second feather proves. The return of the
+false eider downs, before evening, proves then that they hoped the
+substitution would pass undetected. That is all. Caracho! Collapse of
+the hoax. Your health! Vive le Tsar!"
+
+"Caracho! Caracho!"
+
+The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man and a
+woman. It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.
+
+Gounsovski stood on the running-board.
+
+"Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands. You are very
+congenial."
+
+"Compliments, madame."
+
+"Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house
+yesterday."
+
+"I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into
+Finland. I do not regret it, monsieur."
+
+The train trembled and moved. They cried, "Vive la France! Vive la
+Russe!" Athanase Georgevitch wept. Matrena Petrovna, at a window of the
+station, whither she had timidly retired, waved a handkerchief to the
+little domovoi-doukh, who had made her see everything in the right
+light, and whom she did not dare to embrace after the terrible affair of
+the false poison and the Tsar's anger.
+
+The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.
+
+As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.
+
+All the same, as the train took its way toward the frontier,
+Rouletabille threw himself back on the cushions, and said:
+
+"Ouf!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+
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+Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Secret of the Night, by Leroux
+by Gaston Leroux
+
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+The Secret of the Night
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+by Gaston Leroux
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+March, 1999  [Etext #1686]
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+
+
+
+This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Secret of the Night
+
+by Gaston Leroux
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Chapter
+
+I       GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+II      NATACHA
+III     THE WATCH
+IV      "THE YOUTH OF Moscow Is DEAD"
+V       BY ROULETABILLE'S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+VI      THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+VII     ARSENATE OF SODA
+VIII    THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+IX      ANNOUCHEA
+X       A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+XI      THE POISON CONTINUES
+XII     PERE ALEXIS
+XIII    THE LIVING BOMBS
+XIV     THE MARSHES
+XV      "I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU" 
+XVI     BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+XVII    THE LAST CRAVAT
+XVIII   A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+XIX     THE TSAR
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+
+
+"BARINIA, the young stranger has arrived."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Oh, he is waiting at the lodge."
+
+"I told you to show him to Natacha's sitting-room.  Didn't you
+understand me, Ermolai?"
+
+"Pardon, Barinia, but the young stranger, when I asked to search
+him, as you directed, flatly refused to let me."
+
+"Did you explain to him that everybody is searched before being
+allowed to enter, that it is the order, and that even my mother
+herself has submitted to it?"
+
+"I told him all that, Barinia; and I told him about madame your
+mother."
+
+"What did he say to that?"
+
+"That he was not madame your mother.  He acted angry."
+
+"Well, let him come in without being searched."
+
+"The Chief of Police won't like it."
+
+"Do as I say."
+
+Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden.  The "barinia" left the
+veranda, where she had come for this conversation with the old
+servant of General Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the
+dining-room in the datcha des Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan
+Petrovitch was regaling his amused associates with his latest
+exploit at Cubat's resort.  They were a noisy company, and certainly
+the quietest among them was not the general, who nursed on a sofa
+the leg which still held him captive after the recent attack, that
+to his old coachman and his two piebald horses had proved fatal.
+The story of the always-amiable Ivan Petrovitch (a lively, little,
+elderly man with his head bald as an egg) was about the evening
+before.  After having, as he said, "recure la bouche " for these
+gentlemen spoke French like their own language and used it among
+themselves to keep their servants from understanding - after having
+wet his whistle with a large glass of sparkling rosy French wine,
+he cried:
+
+"You would have laughed, Feodor Feodorovitch.  We had sung songs
+on the Barque* and then the Bohemians left with their music and we
+
+[*The "Barque" is a restaurant on a boat, among the isles,
+near the Gulf of Finland, on a bank of the Neva.]
+
+went out onto the river-bank to stretch our legs and cool our faces
+in the freshness of the dawn, when a company of Cossacks of the
+Guard came along.  I knew the officer in command and invited him to
+come along with us and drink the Emperor's health at Cubat's place.
+That officer, Feodor Feodorovitch, is a man who knows vintages and
+boasts that he has never swallowed a glass of anything so common as
+Crimean wine.  When I named champagne he cried, 'Vive l'Empereur!'
+A true patriot.  So we started, merry as school-children.  The
+entire company followed, then all the diners playing little whistles,
+and all the servants besides, single file.  At Cubat's I hated to
+leave the companion-officers of my friend at the door, so I invited
+them in, too.  They accepted, naturally.  But the subalterns were
+thirsty as well.  I understand discipline.  You know, Feodor
+Feodorovitch, that I am a stickler for discipline.  Just because
+one is gay of a spring morning, discipline should not be forgotten.
+I invited the officers to drink in a private room, and sent the
+subalterns into the main hall of the restaurant.  Then the soldiers
+were thirsty, too, and I had drinks served to them out in the
+courtyard.  Then, my word, there was a perplexing business, for now
+the horses whinnied.  The brave horses, Feodor Feodorovitch, who
+also wished to drink the health of the Emperor.  I was bothered
+about the discipline.  Hall, court, all were full.  And I could not
+put the horses in private rooms.  Well, I made them carry out
+champagne in pails and then came the perplexing business I had tried
+so hard to avoid, a grand mixture of boots and horse-shoes that was
+certainly the liveliest thing I have ever seen in my life.  But the
+horses were the most joyous, and danced as if a torch was held under
+their nostrils, and all of them, my word! were ready to throw their
+riders because the men were not of the same mind with them as to
+the route to follow!  From our window we laughed fit to kill at such
+a mixture of sprawling boots and dancing hoofs.  But the troopers
+finally got all their horses to barracks, with patience, for the
+Emperor's cavalry are the best riders in the world, Feodor
+Feodorovitch.  And we certainly had a great laugh! - Your health,
+Matrena Petrovna."
+These last graceful words were addressed to Madame Trebassof, who
+shrugged her shoulders at the undesired gallantry of the gay
+Councilor.   She did not join in the conversation, excepting to
+calm the general, who wished to send the whole regiment to the
+guard-house, men and horses.  And while the roisterers laughed over
+the adventure she said to her husband in the advisory voice of the
+helpful wife:
+
+"Feodor, you must not attach importance to what that old fool Ivan
+tells you.  He is the most imaginative man in the capital when he
+has had champagne."
+
+"Ivan, you certainly have not had horses served with champagne in
+pails," the old boaster, Athanase Georgevitch, protested jealously.
+He was an advocate, well-known for his table-feats, who claimed the
+hardest drinking reputation of any man in the capital, and he
+regretted not to have invented that tale.
+
+"On my word!   And the best brands!  I had won four thousand
+roubles.  I left the little fete with fifteen kopecks."
+
+Matrena Petrovna was listening to Ermolai, the faithful country
+servant who wore always, even here in the city, his habit of fresh
+nankeen, his black leather belt, his large blue pantaloons and his
+boots glistening like ice, his country costume in his master's city
+home.  Madame Matrena rose, after lightly stroking the hair of her
+step-daughter Natacha, whose eyes followed her to the door,
+indifferent apparently to the tender manifestations of her father's
+orderly, the soldier-poet, Boris Mourazoff, who had written
+beautiful verses on the death of the Moscow students, after having
+shot them, in the way of duty, on their barricades.
+
+Ermolai conducted his mistress to the drawing-room and pointed
+across to a door that he had left open, which led to the
+sitting-room before Natacha's chamber.
+
+"He is there," said Ermolai in a low voice.
+
+Ermolai need have said nothing, for that matter, since Madame
+Matrena was aware of a stranger's presence in the sitting-room
+by the extraordinary attitude of an individual in a maroon
+frock-coat bordered with false astrakhan, such as is on the coats
+of all the Russian police agents and makes the secret agents
+recognizable at first glance.  This policeman was on his knees
+in the drawing-room watching what passed in the next room through
+the narrow space of light in the hinge-way of the door.  In this
+manner, or some other, all persons who wished to approach General
+Trebassof were kept under observation without their knowing it,
+after having been first searched at the lodge, a measure adopted
+since the latest attack.
+
+Madame Matrena touched the policeman's shoulder with that heroic
+hand which had saved her husband's life and which still bore traces
+of the terrible explosion in the last attack, when she had seized
+the infernal machine intended for the general with her bare hand.
+The policeman rose and silently left the room, reached the veranda
+and lounged there on a sofa, pretending to be asleep, but in
+reality watching the garden paths.
+
+Matrena Petrovna took his place at the hinge-vent.  This was her
+rule; she always took the final glance at everything and everybody.
+She roved at all hours of the day and night round about the general,
+like a watch-dog, ready to bite, to throw itself before the danger,
+to receive the blows, to perish for its master.  This had commenced
+at Moscow after the terrible repression, the massacre of
+revolutionaries under the walls of Presnia, when the surviving
+Nihilists left behind them a placard condemning the victorious
+General Trebassof to death.  Matrena Petrovna lived only for the
+general.  She had vowed that she would not survive him.  So she had
+double reason to guard him.
+
+But she had lost all confidence even within the walls of her own
+home.
+
+Things had happened even there that defied her caution, her
+instinct, her love.  She had not spoken of these things save to the
+Chief of Police, Koupriane, who had reported them to the Emperor.
+And here now was the man whom the Emperor had sent, as the supreme
+resource, this young stranger - Joseph Rouletabille, reporter.
+
+"But he is a mere boy!" she exclaimed, without at all understanding
+the matter, this youthful figure, with soft, rounded cheeks, eyes
+clear and, at first view, extraordinarily naive, the eyes of an
+infant.  True, at the moment Rouletabille's expression hardly
+suggested any superhuman profundity of thought, for, left in view
+of a table, spread with hors-d'oeuvres, the young man appeared
+solely occupied in digging out with a spoon all the caviare that
+remained in the jars.  Matrena noted the rosy freshness of his
+cheeks, the absence of down on his lip and not a hint of beard, the
+thick hair, with the curl over the forehead.  Ah, that forehead
+- the forehead was curious, with great over-hanging cranial lumps
+which moved above the deep arcade of the eye-sockets while the mouth
+was busy - well, one would have said that Rouletabille had not
+eaten for a week.  He was demolishing a great slice of Volgan
+sturgeon, contemplating at the same time with immense interest a
+salad of creamed cucumbers, when Matrena Petrovna appeared.
+
+He wished to excuse himself at once and spoke with his mouth full.
+
+"I beg your pardon, madame, but the Czar forgot to invite me to
+breakfast."
+
+Madame Matrena smiled and gave him a hearty handshake as she urged
+him to be seated.
+
+"You have seen His Majesty?"
+
+"I come from him, madame.  It is to Madame Trebassof that I have
+the honor of speaking?"
+
+"Yes.  And you are Monsieur - ?"
+
+"Joseph Rouletabille, madame.  I do not add, 'At your service
+- because I do not know about that yet.  That is what I said just
+now to His Majesty."
+
+"Then?" asked Madame Matrena, rather amused by the tone the
+conversation had taken and the slightly flurried air of Rouletabille.
+
+"Why, then, I am a reporter, you see.  That is what I said at once
+to my editor in Paris, 'I am not going to take part in revolutionary
+affairs that do not concern my country,' to which my editor replied,
+'You do not have to take part.  You must go to Russia to make an
+inquiry into the present status of the different parties.  You will
+commence by interviewing the Emperor.'  I said, 'Well, then, here
+goes,' and took the train."
+
+"And you have interviewed the Emperor?"
+
+"Oh, yes, that has not been difficult.  I expected to arrive direct
+at St. Petersburg, but at Krasnoie-Coelo the train stopped and the
+grand-marshal of the court came to me and asked me to follow him.
+It was very flattering.  Twenty minutes later I was before His
+Majesty.  He awaited me!  I understood at once that this was
+obviously for something out of the ordinary."
+
+"And what did he say to you?"
+
+"He is a man of genuine majesty.  He reassured me at once when I
+explained my scruples to him.  He said there was no occasion for me
+to take part in the politics of the matter, but to save his most
+faithful servant, who was on the point of becoming the victim of
+the strangest family drama ever conceived."
+
+Madame Matrena, white as a sheet, rose to her feet.
+
+"Ah," she said simply.
+
+But Rouletabille, whom nothing escaped, saw her hand tremble on the
+back of the chair.
+
+He went on, not appearing to have noticed her emotion:
+
+"His Majesty added these exact words: 'It is I who ask it of you;
+I and Madame Trebassof.  Go, monsieur, she awaits you'"
+
+He ceased and waited for Madame Trebassof to speak.
+
+She made up her mind after brief reflection.
+
+"Have you seen Koupriane?"
+
+"The Chief of Police?  Yes.  The grand-marshal accompanied me back
+to the station at Krasnoie-Coelo, and the Chief of Police
+accompanied me to St. Petersburg station.  One could not have been
+better received."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille," said Matrena, who visibly strove to regain
+her self-control, "I am not of Koupriane's opinion and I am not "
+- here she lowered her trembling voice - " of the opinion His
+Majesty holds.  It is better for me to tell you at once, so that
+you may not regret intervening in an affair where there are - where
+there are - risks - terrible risks to run.  No, this is not a family
+drama.  The family is small, very small: the general, his daughter
+Natacha (by his former marriage), and myself.  There could not be a
+family drama among us three.  It is simply about my husband,
+monsieur, who did his duty as a soldier in defending the throne of
+his sovereign, my husband whom they mean to assassinate!  There is
+nothing else, no other situation, my dear little guest."
+
+To hide her distress she started to carve a slice of jellied veal
+and carrot.
+
+"You have not eaten, you are hungry.  It is dreadful, my dear young
+man.  See, you must dine with us, and then - you will say adieu.
+Yes, you will leave me all alone.  I will undertake to save him all
+alone.  Certainly, I will undertake it."
+
+A tear fell on the slice she was cutting.  Rouletabille, who felt
+the brave woman's emotion affecting him also, braced himself to keep
+from showing it.
+
+"I am able to help you a little all the same," he said.  "Monsieur
+Koupriane has told me that there is a deep mystery.  It is my
+vocation to get to the bottom of mysteries."
+
+"I know what Koupriane thinks," she said, shaking her head.  "But
+if I could bring myself to think that for a single day I would
+rather be dead."
+
+The good Matrena Petrovna lifted her beautiful eyes to Rouletabille,
+brimming with the tears she held back.
+
+She added quickly:
+
+"But eat now, my dear guest; eat.  My dear child, you must forget
+what Koupriane has said to you, when you are back in France."
+
+"I promise you that, madame."
+
+"It is the Emperor who has caused you this long journey.  For me,
+I did not wish it.  Has he, indeed, so much confidence in you?" she
+asked naively, gazing at him fixedly through her tears.
+
+"Madame, I was just about to tell you.  I have been active in some
+important matters that have been reported to him, and then sometimes
+your Emperor is allowed to see the papers.  He has heard talk, too
+(for everybody talked of them, madame), about the Mystery of the
+Yellow Room and the Perfume of the Lady in Black."
+
+Here Rouletabille watched Madame Trebassof and was much mortified
+at the undoubted ignorance that showed in her frank face of either
+the yellow room or the black perfume.
+
+"My young friend," said she, in a voice more and more hesitant,
+"you must excuse me, but it is a long time since I have had good
+eyes for reading."
+
+Tears, at last, ran down her cheeks.
+
+Rouletabille could not restrain himself any further.  He saw in one
+flash all this heroic woman had suffered in her combat day by day
+with the death which hovered.  He took her little fat hands, whose
+fingers were overloaded with rings, tremulously into his own:
+
+"Madame, do not weep.  They wish to kill your husband.  Well then,
+we will be two at least to defend him, I swear to you."
+
+"Even against the Nihilists!"
+
+"Aye, madame, against all the world.  I have eaten all your caviare.
+I am your guest.  I am your friend."
+
+As he said this he was so excited, so sincere and so droll that
+Madame Trebassof could not help smiling through her tears.  She made
+him sit down beside her.
+
+"The Chief of Police has talked of you a great deal.  He came here
+abruptly after the last attack and a mysterious happening that I
+will tell you about.  He cried, 'Ah, we need Rouletabille to unravel
+this!'  The next day he came here again.  He had gone to the Court.
+There, everybody, it appears, was talking of you.  The Emperor
+wished to know you.  That is why steps were taken through the
+ambassador at Paris."
+
+"Yes, yes.  And naturally all the world has learned of it.  That
+makes it so lively.  The Nihiists warned me immediately that I
+would not reach Russia alive.  That, finally, was what decided me
+on coming.  I am naturally very contrary."
+
+"And how did you get through the journey?"
+
+"Not badly.  I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned
+to kill me, and I reached an understanding with him.  He was a
+charming youth, so it was easily arranged."
+
+Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would
+have been difficult for him to name.  Matrena Petrovna laid her fat
+little hand on his arm:
+
+"You speak seriously?"
+
+"Very seriously."
+
+"A small glass of vodka?"
+
+"No alcohol."
+
+Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.
+
+"And how did you discover him?  How did you know him?"
+
+"First, he wore glasses.  All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling.
+And then I had a good clew.  A minute before the departure from
+Paris I had a friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a
+reporter who would do anything I said without even wanting to know
+why.  I said, 'You call out suddenly and very loud, "Hello, here is
+Rouletabille."'  So he called, 'Hello, here is Rouletabille,' and
+all those who were in the corridor turned and all those who were
+already in the compartments came out, excepting the man with the
+glasses.  Then I was sure about him."
+
+Madame Trebassof looked at Rouletabile, who turned as red as the
+comb of a rooster and was rather embarrassed at his fatuity.
+
+"That deserves a rebuff, I know, madame, but from the moment the
+Emperor of all the Russias had desired to see me I could not admit
+that any mere man with glasses had not the curiosity to see what
+I looked like.  It was not natural.  As soon as the train was off
+I sat down by this man and told him who I thought he was.  I was
+right.  He removed his glasses and, looking me straight in the eyes,
+said he was glad to have a little talk with me before anything
+unfortunate happened.  A half-hour later the entente-cordiale was
+signed.  I gave him to understand that I was coming here simply on
+business as a reporter and that there was always time to check me
+if I should be indiscreet.  At the German frontier he left me to
+go on, and returned tranquilly to his nitro-glycerine."
+
+"You are a marked man also, my poor boy."
+
+"Oh, they have not got us yet."
+
+Matrena Petrovna coughed.  That us overwhelmed her.  With what
+calmness this boy that she had not known an hour proposed to share
+the dangers of a situation that excited general pity but from which
+the bravest kept aloof either from prudence or dismay.
+
+"Ah, my friend, a little of this fine smoked Hamburg beef?"
+
+But the young man was already pouring out fresh yellow beer.
+
+"There," said he.  "Now, madame, I am listening.  Tell me first
+about the earliest attack."
+
+"Now," said Matrena, "we must go to dinner."
+
+Rouletabille looked at her wide-eyed.
+
+"But, madame, what have I just been doing?"
+
+Madame Matrena smiled.  All these strangers were alike.  Because
+they had eaten some hors-d'ceuvres, some zakouskis, they imagined
+their host would be satisfied.  They did not know how to eat.
+
+"We will go to the dining-room.  The general is expecting you.
+They are at table."
+
+"I understand I am supposed to know him."
+
+"Yes, you have met in Paris.  It is entirely natural that in passing
+through St. Petersburg you should make him a visit.  You know him 
+ery well indeed, so well that he opens his home to you.  Ah, yes,
+my step-daughter also " - she flushed a little - " Natacha believes
+that her father knows you."
+
+She opened the door of the drawing-room, which they had to cross in
+order to reach the dining-room. 
+
+>From his present position Rouletabille could see all the corners of
+the drawing-room, the veranda, the garden and the entrance lodge at
+the gate.  In the veranda the man in the maroon frock-coat trimmed
+with false astrakhan seemed still to be asleep on the sofa; in one
+of the corners of the drawing-room another individual, silent and
+motionless as a statue, dressed exactly the same, in a maroon
+frock-coat with false astrakhan, stood with his hands behind his
+back seemingly struck with general paralysis at the sight of a
+flaring sunset which illumined as with a torch the golden spires of
+Saints Peter and Paul.  And in the garden and before the lodge
+three others dressed in maroon roved like souls in pain over the
+lawn or back and forth at the entrance.  Rouletabille motioned to
+Madame Matrena, stepped back into the sitting-room and closed the
+door.
+
+"Police?" he asked.
+
+Matrena Petrovna nodded her head and put her finger to her mouth
+in a naive way, as one would caution a child to silence.
+Rouletabille smiled.
+
+"How many are there?"
+
+"Ten, relieved every six hours."
+
+"That makes forty unknown men around your house each day."
+
+"Not unknown," she replied.  "Police."
+
+"Yet, in spite of them, you have had the affair of the bouquet in
+the general's chamber."
+
+"No, there were only three then.  It is since the affair of the
+bouquet that there have been ten."
+
+"It hardly matters.  It is since these ten that you have had ..."
+
+"What?" she demanded anxiously.
+
+"You know well - the flooring."
+
+"Sh-h-h."
+
+She glanced at the door, watching the policeman statuesque before
+the setting sun.
+
+"No one knows that - not even my husband."
+
+"So M. Koupriane told me.  Then it is you who have arranged for
+these ten police-agents?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, we will commence now by sending all these police away."
+
+Matrena Petrovna grasped his hand, astounded.
+
+"Surely you don't think of doing such a thing as that!"
+
+"Yes.  We must know where the blow is coming from.  You have four
+different groups of people around here - the police, the domestics,
+your friends, your family.  Get rid of the police first.  They must
+not be permitted to cross your threshold.  They have not been able
+to protect you.  You have nothing to regret.  And if, after they
+are gone, something new turns up, we can leave M.  Koupriane to
+conduct the inquiries without his being preoccupied here at the
+house."
+
+"But you do not know the admirable police of Koupriane.  These brave
+men have given proof of their devotion."
+
+"Madame, if I were face to face with a Nihilist the first thing I
+would ask myself about him would be, 'Is he one of the police?'
+The first thing I ask in the presence of an agent of your police is,
+'Is he not a Nihilist?'"
+
+"But they will not wish to go."
+
+"Do any of them speak French?"
+
+"Yes, their sergeant, who is out there in the salon."
+
+"Pray call him."
+
+Madame Trebassof walked into the salon and signaled.  The man
+appeared.  Rouletabille handed him a paper, which the other read.
+
+"You will gather your men together and quit the villa," ordered
+Rouletabille.  "You will return to the police Headguarters.  Say to
+M. Koupriane that I have commanded this and that I require all police
+service around the villa to be suspended until further orders."
+
+The man bowed, appeared not to understand, looked at Madame
+Trebassof and said to the young man:
+
+"At your service."
+
+He went out.
+
+"Wait here a moment," urged Madame Trebassof, who did not know how
+to take this abrupt action and whose anxiety was really painful
+to see.
+
+She disappeared after the man of the false astrakhan. A few moments
+afterwards she returned.  She appeared even more agitated.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she murmured, "but I cannot let them go like
+this.  They are much chagrined.  They have insisted on knowing where
+they have failed in their service.  I have appeased them with money."
+
+"Yes, and tell me the whole truth, madame.  You have directed them
+not to go far away, but to remain near the villa so as to watch it
+as closely as possible."
+
+She reddened.
+
+"It is true.  But they have gone, nevertheless.  They had to obey
+you.  What can that paper be you have shown them?"
+
+Rouletabille drew out again the billet covered with seals and signs
+and cabalistics that he did not understand.  Madame Trebassof
+translated it aloud: "Order to all officials in surveillance of the
+Villa Trebassof to obey the bearer absolutely.  Signed: Koupriane."
+
+"Is it possible!" murmured Matrena Petrovna.  "But Koupriane would
+never have given you this paper if he had imagined that you would
+use it to dismiss his agents."
+
+"Evidently.  I have not asked him his advice, madame, you may be
+sure.  But I will see him to-morrow and he will understand."
+
+"Meanwhile, who is going to watch over him?" cried she.
+
+Rouletabille took her hands again.  He saw her suffering, a prey
+to anguish almost prostrating.  He pitied her.  He wished to give
+her immediate confidence.
+
+"We will," he said.
+
+She saw his young, clear eyes, so deep, so intelligent, the
+well-formed young head, the willing face, all his young ardency for
+her, and it reassured her.  Rouletabille waited for what she might
+say.  She said nothing.  She took him in her arms and embraced him.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+NATACHA
+
+In the dining-room it was Thaddeus Tchnichnikoff's turn to tell
+hunting stories.  He was the greatest timber-merchant in Lithuania.
+He owned immense forests and he loved Feodor Feodorovitch* as a
+_____________________________________________________________________
+
+*In this story according to Russian habit General Trebassof is
+called alternately by that name or the family name Feodor
+Feodorovitch, and Madame Trebassof by that name or her family
+name, Matrena Petrovna.- Translator's Note.
+_____________________________________________________________________
+
+brother, for they had played together all through their childhood,
+and once he had saved him from a bear that was just about to crush
+his skull as one might knock off a hat.  General Trebassof's father
+was governor of Courlande at that time, by the grace of God and the
+Little Father.  Thaddeus, who was just thirteen years old, killed
+the bear with a single stroke of his boar-spear, and just in time.
+Close ties were knit between the two families by this occurrence,
+and though Thaddeus was neither noble-born nor a soldier, Feodor
+considered him his brother and felt toward him as such.  Now
+Thaddeus had become the greatest timber-merchant of the western
+provinces, with his own forests and also with his massive body,
+his fat, oily face, his bull-neck and his ample paunch.  He quitted
+everything at once - all his affairs, his family - as soon as he
+learned of the first attack, to come and remain by the side of his
+dear comrade Feodor.  He had done this after each attack, without
+forgetting one.  He was a faithful friend.  But he fretted because
+they might not go bear-hunting as in their youth.  'Where, he would
+ask, are there any bears remaining in Courlande, or trees for that
+matter, what you could call trees, growing since the days of the
+grand-dukes of Lithuania, giant trees that threw their shade right
+up to the very edge of the towns? Where were such things nowadays?
+Thaddeus was very amusing, for it was he, certainly, who had cut
+them away tranquilly enough and watched them vanish in locomotive
+smoke.  It was what was called Progress.  Ah, hunting lost its
+national character assuredly with tiny new-growth trees which had
+not had time to grow.  And, besides, one nowadays had not time for
+hunting.  All the big game was so far away.  Lucky enough if one
+seized the time to bring down a brace of woodcock early in the
+morning.  At this point in Thaddeus's conversation there was a
+babble of talk among the convivial gentlemen, for they had all the
+time in the world at their disposal and could not see why he should
+be so concerned about snatching a little while at morning or
+evening, or at midday for that matter.  Champagne was flowing like
+a river when Rouletabille was brought in by Matrena Petrovna.  The
+general, whose eyes had been on the door for some time, cried at
+once, as though responding to a cue:
+
+"Ah, my dear Rouletabille!  I have been looking for you.  Our
+friends wrote me you were coming to St. Petersburg."
+
+Rouletabille hurried over to him and they shook hands like friends
+who meet after a long separation.  The reporter was presented to
+the company as a close young friend from Paris whom they had enjoyed
+so much during their latest visit to the City of Light.  Everybody
+inquired for the latest word of Paris as of a dear acquaintance.
+
+"How is everybody at Maxim's?" urged the excellent Athanase
+Georgevitch.
+
+Thaddeus, too, had been once in Paris and he returned with an
+enthusiastic liking for the French demoiselles.
+
+"Vos gogottes, monsieur," he said, appearing very amiable and
+leaning on each word, with a guttural emphasis such as is common
+in the western provinces, "ah, vos gogottes!"
+
+Matrena Perovna tried to silence him, but Thaddeus insisted on his
+right to appreciate the fair sex away from home.  He had a turgid,
+sentimental wife, always weeping and cramming her religious notions
+down his throat.
+
+Of course someone asked Rouletabille what he thought of Russia, but
+he had no more than opened his mouth to reply than Athanase
+Georgevitch closed it by interrupting:
+
+"Permettez!  Permettez!  You others, of the young generation, what
+do you know of it?  You need to have lived a long time and in all
+its districts to appreciate Russia at its true value.  Russia,
+my young sir, is as yet a closed book to you."
+
+"Naturally," Rouletabille answered, smiling.
+
+"Well, well, here's your health!  What I would point out to you
+first of all is that it is a good buyer of champagne, eh?" - and
+he gave a huge grin.  "But the hardest drinker I ever knew was born
+on the banks of the Seine.  Did you know him, Feodor Feodorovitch?
+Poor Charles Dufour, who died two years ago at  fete of the officers
+of the Guard.  He wagered at the end of the banquet that he could
+drink a glassful of champagne to the health of each man there.
+There were sixty when you came to count them.  He commenced the
+round of the table and the affair went splendidly up to the
+fifty-eighth man.  But at the fifty-ninth - think of the
+misfortune! - the champagne ran out!  That poor, that charming,
+that excellent Charles took up a glass of vin dore which was in the
+glass of this fifty-ninth, wished him long life, drained the glass
+at one draught, had just time to murmur, 'Tokay, 1807,' and fell
+back dead!  Ah, he knew the brands, my word! and he proved it to
+his last breath!  Peace to his ashes!  They asked what he died of.
+I knew he died because of the inappropriate blend of flavors.  There
+should be discipline in all things and not promiscuous mixing.  One
+more glass of champagne and he would have been drinking with us
+this evening.  Your health, Matrena Petrovna.  Champagne, Feodor
+Feodorovitch!  Vive la France, monsieur!  Natacha, my child, you
+must sing something.  Boris will accompany you on the guzla.  Your
+father will enjoy it."
+
+All eyes turned toward Natacha as she rose.
+
+Rouletabille was struck by her serene beauty.  That was the first
+enthralling impression, an impression so strong it astonished him,
+the perfect serenity, the supreme calm, the tranquil harmony of her
+noble features.  Natacha was twenty.  Heavy brown hair circled about
+er forehead and was looped about her ears, which were half-concealed.
+Her profile was clear-cut; her mouth was strong and revealed between
+red, firm lips the even pearliness of her teeth.  She was of medium
+height.  In walking she had the free, light step of the highborn
+maidens who, in primal times, pressed the flowers as they passed
+without crushing them.  But all her true grace seemed to be
+concentrated in her eyes, which were deep and of a dark blue.
+The impression she made upon a beholder was very complex.  And it
+would have been difficult to say whether the calm which pervaded
+every manifestation of her beauty was the result of conscious
+control or the most perfect ease.
+
+She took down the guzla and handed it to Boris, who struck some
+plaintive preliminary chords.
+
+"What shall I sing?" she inquired, raising her father's hand from
+the back of the sofa where he rested and kissing it with filial
+tenderness.
+
+"Improvise," said the general.  "Improvise in French, for the sake
+of our guest."
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Boris; "improvise as you did the other evening."
+
+He immediately struck a minor chord.
+
+Natacha looked fondly at her father as she sang: 
+
+  "When the moment comes that parts us at the close of day,
+  when the Angel of Sleep covers you with azure wings;
+  "Oh, may your eyes rest from so many tears, and your oppressed
+        heart have calm;
+  "In each moment that we have together, Father dear, let our
+        souls feel harmony sweet and mystical;
+  "And when your thoughts may have flown to other worlds, oh, may
+        my image, at least, nestle within your sleeping eyes."
+
+Natacha's voice was sweet, and the charm of it subtly pervasive.
+The words as she uttered them seemed to have all the quality of a
+prayer and there were tears in all eyes, excepting those of Michael
+Korsakoff, the second orderly, whom Rouletabille appraised as a man
+with a rough heart not much open to sentiment.
+
+"Feodor Feodorovitch," said this officer, when the young girl's
+voice had faded away into the blending with the last note of the
+guzla, "Feodor Feodorovitch is a man and a glorious soldier who is
+able to sleep in peace, because he has labored for his country and
+for his Czar."
+
+"Yes, yes.  Labored well!  A glorious soldier!" repeated Athanase
+Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch.  "Well may he sleep peacefully."
+
+"Natacha sang like an angel," said Boris, the first orderly, in a
+tremulous voice.
+
+"Like an angel, Boris Nikolaievitch.  But why did she speak of his
+heart oppressed?  I don't see that General Trebassof has a heart
+oppressed, for my part."  Michael Korsakoff spoke roughly as he
+drained his glass.
+
+"No, that's so, isn't it?" agreed the others.
+
+"A young girl may wish her father a pleasant sleep, surely!" said
+Matrena Petrovna, with a certain good sense.  "Natacha has affected
+us all, has she not, Feodor?"
+
+"Yes, she made me weep," declared the general.  "But let us have
+champagne to cheer us up.  Our young friend here will think we
+are chicken-hearted."
+
+"Never think that," said Rouletabille.  "Mademoiselle has touched
+me deeply as well.  She is an artist, really a great artist.  And
+a poet."
+
+"He is from Paris; he knows," said the others.
+
+And all drank.
+
+Then they talked about music, with great display of knowledge
+concerning things operatic.  First one, then another went to the
+piano and ran through some motif that the rest hummed a little
+first, then shouted in a rousing chorus.  Then they drank more,
+amid a perfect fracas of talk and laughter.  Ivan Petrovitch and
+Athanase Georgevitch walked across and kissed the general.
+Rouletabille saw all around him great children who amused
+themselves with unbelievable naivete and who drank in a fashion
+more unbelievable still.  Matrena Petrovna smoked cigarettes of
+yellow tobacco incessantly, rising almost continually to make a
+hurried round of the rooms, and after having prompted the servants
+to greater watchfulness, sat and looked long at Rouletabille, who
+did not stir, but caught every word, every gesture of each one
+there.  Finally, sighing, she sat down by Feodor and asked how his
+leg felt.  Michael and Natacha, in a corner, were deep in
+conversation, and Boris watched them with obvious impatience, still
+strumming the guzla.  But the thing that struck Rouletabille's
+youthful imagination beyond all else was the mild face of the
+general.  He had not imagined the terrible Trebassof with so
+paternal and sympathetic an expression.  The Paris papers had
+printed redoubtable pictures of him, more or less authentic, but
+the arts of photography and engraving had cut vigorous, rough
+features of an official - who knew no pity.  Such pictures were in
+perfect accord with the idea one naturally had of the dominating
+figure of the government at Moscow, the man who, during eight
+days - the Red Week - had made so many corpses of students and
+workmen that the halls of the University and the factories had
+opened their doors since in vain.  The dead would have had to arise
+for those places to be peopled!  Days of terrible battle where in
+one quarter or another of the city there was naught but massacre or
+burnings, until Matrena Petrovna and her step-daughter, Natacha
+(all the papers told of it), had fallen on their knees before the
+general and begged terms for the last of the revolutionaries, at
+bay in the Presnia quarter, and had been refused by him.  "War is
+war," had been his answer, with irrefutable logic.  "How can you
+ask mercy for these men who never give it?" Be it said for the
+young men of the barricades that they never surrendered, and equally
+be it said for Trebassof that he necessarily shot them.  "If I had
+only myself to consider," the general had said to a Paris
+journalist, "I could have been gentle as a lamb with these
+unfortunates, and so I should not now myself be condemned to death.
+After all, I fail to see what they reproach me with.  I have served
+my master as a brave and loyal subject, no more, and, after the
+fighting, I have let others ferret out the children that had hidden
+under their mothers' skirts.  Everybody talks of the repression of
+Moscow, hut let us speak, my friend, of the Commune.  There was a
+piece of work I would not have done, to massacre within a court an
+unresisting crowd of men, women and children.  I am a rough and
+faithful soldier of His Majesty, but I am not a monster, and I have
+the feelings of a husband and father, my dear monsieur.  Tell your
+readers that, if you care to, and do not surmise further about
+whether I appear to regret being condemned to death."
+
+Certainly what stupefied Rouletabille now was this staunch figure
+of the condemned man who appeared so tranquilly to enjoy his life.
+When the general was not furthering the gayety of his friends he
+was talking with his wife and daughter, who adored him and
+continually fondled him, and he seemed perfectly happy.  With his
+enormous grizzly mustache, his ruddy color, his keen, piercing
+eyes, he looked the typical spoiled father.
+
+The reporter studied all these widely-different types and made his
+observations while pretending to a ravenous appetite, which served,
+moreover, to fix him in the good graces of his hosts of the datcha
+des Iles.  But, in reality, he passed the food to an enormous
+bull-dog under the table, in whose good graces he was also thus
+firmly planting himself.  As Trebassof had prayed his companions to
+let his young friend satisfy his ravening hunger in peace, they did
+not concern themelves to entertain him.  Then, too, the music
+served to distract attention from him, and at a moment somewhat
+later, when Matrena Petrovna turned to speak to the young man, she
+was frightened at not seeing him.  Where had he gone?  She went out
+into the veranda and looked.  She did not dare to call.  She walked
+into the grand-salon and saw the reporter just as he came out of
+the sitting-room.
+
+"Where were you?" she inquired.
+
+"The sitting-room is certainly charming, and decorated exquisitely,"
+complimented Rouletabille.  "It seems almost a boudoir."
+
+"It does serve as a boudoir for my step-daughter, whose bedroom
+opens directly from it; you see the door there.  It is simply for
+the present that the luncheon table is set there, because for some
+time the police have pre-empted the veranda."
+
+"Is your dog a watch-dog, madame?" asked Rouletabille, caressing
+the beast, which had followed him.
+
+"Khor is faithful and had guarded us well hitherto."
+
+"He sleeps now, then?"
+
+"Yes.  Koupriane has him shut in the lodge to keep him from barking
+nights.  Koupriane fears that if he is out he will devour one of
+the police who watch in the garden at night.  I wanted him to sleep
+in the house, or by his master's door, or even at the foot of the
+bed, but Koupriane said, 'No, no; no dog.  Don't rely on the dog.
+Nothing is more dangerous than to rely on the dog. 'Since then he
+has kept Khor locked up at night.  But I do not understand
+Koupriane's idea."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane is right," said the reporter.  "Dogs are useful
+only against strangers."
+
+"Oh," gasped the poor woman, dropping her eyes.  "Koupriane
+certainly knows his business; he thinks of everything."
+
+"Come," she added rapidiy, as though to hide her disquiet, "do not
+go out like that without letting me know.  They want you in the
+dining-room."
+
+"I must have you tell me right now about this attempt."
+
+"In the dining-room, in the dining-room.  In spite of myself," she
+said in a low voice, "it is stronger than I am.  I am not able to
+leave the general by himself while he is on the ground-floor."
+
+She drew Rouletabille into the dining-room, where the gentlemen were
+now telling odd stories of street robberies amid loud laughter.
+Natacha was still talking with Michael Korsakoff; Boris, whose eyes
+never quitted them, was as pale as the wax on his guzla, which he
+rattled violently from time to time.  Matrena made Rouletabille sit
+in a corner of the sofa, near her, and, counting on her fingers
+like a careful housewife who does not wish to overlook anything in
+her domestic calculations, she said:
+
+"There have been three attempts; the first two in Moscow.  The first
+happened very simply.  The general knew he had been condemned to
+death.  They had delivered to him at the palace in the afternoon the
+revoluntionary poster which proclaimed his intended fate to the
+whole city and country.  So Feodor, who was just about to ride into
+the city, dismissed his escort.  He ordered horses put to a sleigh.
+I trembled and asked what he was going to do.  He said he was going 
+to drive quietly through all parts of the city, in order to show the
+Muscovites that a governor appointed according to law by the Little
+Father and who had in his conscience only the sense that he had
+done his full duty was not to be intimidated.  It was nearly four
+o'clock, toward the end of a winter day that had been clear and
+bright, but very cold.  I wrapped myself in my furs and took my
+seat beside him, and he said, 'This is fine, Matrena; this will
+have a great effect on these imbeciles.'  So we started.  At
+first we drove along the Naberjnaia.  The sleigh glided like
+the wind.  The general hit the driver a heavy blow in the back,
+crying, 'Slower, fool; they will think we are afraid,' and so the
+horses were almost walking when, passing behind the Church of
+Protection and intercession, we reached the Place Rouge.  Until
+then the few passers-by had looked at us, and as they recognized
+him, hurried along to keep him in view.  At the Place Rouge there
+was only a little knot of women kneeling before the Virgin.  As
+soon as these women saw us and recognized the equipage of the
+Governor, they dispersed like a flock of crows, with frightened
+cries.  Feodor laughed so hard that as we passed under the vault
+of the Virgin his laugh seemed to shake the stones.  I felt
+reassured, monsieur.  Our promenade continued without any remarkable
+incident.  The city was almost deserted.  Everything lay prostrated
+under the awful blow of that battle in the street.  Feodor said,
+'Ah, they give me a wide berth; they do not know how much I love
+them," and all through that promenade he said many more charming
+and delicate things to me.
+
+"As we were talking pleasantly under our furs we came to la Place
+Koudrinsky, la rue Koudrinsky, to be exact.  It was just four
+o'clock, and a light mist had commenced to mix with the sifting
+snow, and the houses to right and left were visible only as masses
+of shadow.  We glided over the snow like a boat along the river in
+foggy calm.  Then, suddenly, we heard piercing cries and saw shadows
+of soldiers rushing around, with movements that looked larger than
+human through the mist; their short whips looked enormous as they
+knocked some other shadows that we saw down like logs.  The general
+stopped the sleigh and got out to see what was going on.  I got out
+with him.  They were soldiers of the famous Semenowsky regiment,
+who had two prisoners, a young man and a child.  The child was being
+beaten on the nape of the neck.  It writhed on the ground and cried
+in torment.  It couldn't have been more than nine years old.  The
+other, the young man, held himself up and marched along without a
+single cry as the thongs fell brutally upon him.  I was appalled.
+I did not give my husband time to open his mouth before I called
+to the subaltern who commanded the detachment, 'You should be
+ashamed to strike a child and a Christian like that, which cannot
+defend itself.'  The general told him the same thing.  Then the
+subaltern told us that the little child had just killed a lieutenant
+in the street by firing a revolver, which he showed us, and it was
+the biggest one I ever have seen, and must have been as heavy for
+that infant to lift as a small cannon.  It was unbelievable.
+
+"'And the other,' demanded the general; 'what has he done?'
+
+"'He is a dangerous student,' replied the subaltern, 'who has
+delivered himself up as a prisoner because he promised the landlord
+of the house where he lives that he would do it to keep the house
+from being battered down with cannon.'
+
+"'But that is right of him.  Why do you beat him?'
+
+"'Because he has told us he is a dangerous student.'
+
+"'That is no reason,' Feodor told him.  'He will be shot if he
+deserves it, and the child also, but I forbid you to beat him.  You
+have not been furnished with these whips in order to beat isolated
+prisoners, but to charge the crowd when it does not obey the
+governor's orders.  In such a case you are ordered "Charge," and
+you know what to do.  You understand?'  Feodor said roughly.  'I
+am General Trebassof, your governor.'
+
+"Feodor was thoroughly human in saying this.  Ah, well, he was badly 
+ecompensed for it, very badly, I tell you.  The student was truly
+dangerous, because he had no sooner heard my husband say, 'I am
+General Trebassof, your governor,' than he cried, 'Ah, is it you,
+Trebassoff' and drew a revolver from no one knows where and fired
+straight at the general, almost against his breast.  But the general
+was not hit, happily, nor I either, who was by him and had thrown
+myself onto the student to disarm him and then was tossed about at
+the feet of the soldiers in the battle they waged around the student
+while the revolver was going off.  Three soldiers were killed.  You
+can understand that the others were furious.  They raised me with
+many excuses and, all together, set to kicking the student in the
+loins and striking at him as he lay on the ground.  The subaltern
+struck his face a blow that might have blinded him.  Feodor hit the
+officer in the head with his fist and called, 'Didn't you hear what
+I said?'  The officer fell under the blow and Feodor himself carried
+him to the sleigh and laid him with the dead men.  Then he took
+charge of the soldiers and led them to the barracks.  I followed,
+as a sort of after-guard.  We returned to the palace an hour later.
+It was quite dark by then, and almost at the entrance to the palace
+we were shot at by a group of revolutionaries who passed swiftly in
+two sleighs and disappeared in the darkness so fast that they could
+not be overtaken.  I had a ball in my toque.  The general had not
+been touched this time either, but our furs were ruined by the blood
+of the dead soldiers which they had forgotten to clean out of the
+sleigh.  That was the first attempt, which meant little enough,
+after all, because it was fighting in the open.  It was some days
+later that they commenced to try assassination."
+
+At this moment Ermolai brought in four bottles of champagne and
+Thaddeus struck lightly on the piano.
+
+"Quickly, madame, the second attempt," said Rouletabille, who was 
+aking hasty notes on his cuff, never ceasing, meanwhile, to watch
+the convivial group and listening with both ears wide open to
+Matrena.
+
+"The second happened still in Moscow.  We had had a jolly dinner
+because we thought that at last the good old days were back and
+good citizens could live in peace; and Boris had tried out the guzia
+singing songs of the Orel country to please me; he is so fine and
+sympathetic.  Natacha had gone somewhere or other.  The sleigh was
+waiting at the door and we went out and got in.  Almost instantly
+there was a fearful noise, and we were thrown out into the snow,
+both the general and me.  There remained no trace of sleigh or
+coachman; the two horses were disemboweled, two magnificent piebald
+horses, my dear young monsieur, that the general was so attached to.
+As to Feodor, he had that serious wound in his right leg; the calf
+was shattered.  I simply had my shoulder a little wrenched,
+practically nothing.  The bomb had been placed under the seat of the
+unhappy coachman, whose hat alone we found, in a pool of blood.
+>From that attack the general lay two months in bed.  In the second
+month they arrested two servants who were caught one night on the 
+landing leading to the upper floor, where they had no business, and
+after that I sent at once for our old domestics in Orel to come and
+serve us.  It was discovered that these detected servants were in
+touch with the revolutionaries, so they were hanged.  The Emperor
+appointed a provisional governor, and now that the general was
+better we decided on a convalescence for him in the midi of France.
+We took train for St. Petersburg, but the journey started high fever
+in my husband and reopened the wound in his calf.  The doctors
+ordered absolute rest and so we settled here in the datcha des Iles.
+Since then, not a day has passed without the general receiving an
+anonymous letter telling him that nothing can save him from the
+revenge of the revolutionaries.  He is brave and only smiles over
+them, but for me, I know well that so long as we are in Russia we
+have not a moment's security.  So I watch him every minute and let
+no one approach him except his intimate friends and us of the family.
+I have brought an old gniagnia who watched me grow up, Ermolai, and
+the Orel servants.  In the meantime, two months later, the third
+attempt suddenly occurred.  It is certainly of them all the most
+frightening, because it is so mysterious, a mystery that has not
+yet, alas, been solved."
+
+But Athanase Georgevitch had told a "good story" which raised so
+much hubbub that nothing else could be heard.  Feodor Feodorovitch
+was so amused that he had tears in his eyes.  Rouletabille said to
+himself as Matrena talked, "I never have seen men so gay, and yet
+they know perfectly they are apt to be blown up all together any
+moment."
+
+General Trebassof, who had steadily watched Rouletabille, who, for
+that matter, had been kept in eye by everyone there, said:
+
+"Eh, eh, monsieur le journaliste, you find us very gay?"
+
+"I find you very brave," said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+"How is that?" said Feodor Feodorovitch, smiling.
+
+"You must pardon me for thinking of the things that you seem to
+have forgotten entirely."
+
+He indicated the general's wounded leg.
+
+"The chances of war! the chances of war!" said the general.  "A leg
+here, an arm there.  But, as you see, I am still here.  They will
+end by growing tired and leaving me in peace.  Your health, my
+friend!"
+
+"Your health, general!"
+
+"You understand," continued Feodor Feodorovitch, "there is no
+occasion to excite ourselves.  It is our business to defend the
+empire at the peril of our lives.  We find that quite natural, and
+there is no occasion to think of it.  I have had terrors enough in
+other directions, not to speak of the terrors of love, that are
+more ferocious than you can yet imagine.  Look at what they did to
+my poor friend the Chief of the Surete, Boichlikoff.  He was
+commendable certainly.  There was a brave man.  Of an evening, when
+his work was over, he always left the bureau of the prefecture and
+went to join his wife and children in their apartment in the ruelle
+des Loups.  Not a soldier!  No guard!  The others had every chance.
+One evening a score of revolutionaries, after having driven away
+the terrorized servants, mounted to his apartments.  He was dining
+with his family.  They knocked and he opened the door.  He saw who
+they were, and tried to speak.  They gave him no time.  Before his
+wife and children, mad with terror and on their knees before the
+revolutionaries, they read him his death-sentence.  A fine end that
+to a dinner!"
+
+As he listened Rouletabille paled and he kept his eyes on the door
+as if he expected to see it open of itself, giving access to
+ferocious Nihiists of whom one, with a paper in his hand, would
+read the sentence of death to Feodor Feodorovitch.  Rouletabille's
+stomach was not yet seasoned to such stories.  He almost regretted,
+momentarily, having taken the terrible responsibility of dismissing
+the police.  After what Koupriane had confided to him of things that
+had happened in this house, he had not hesitated to risk everything
+on that audacious decision, but all the same, all the same - these
+stories of Nihilists who appear at the end of a meal, death-sentence
+in hand, they haunted him, they upset him.  Certainly it had been
+a piece of foolhardiness to dismiss the police!
+
+"Well," he asked, conquering his misgivings and resuming, as always,
+his confidence in himself, "then, what did they do then, after
+reading the sentence?"
+
+"The Chief of the Surete knew he had no time to spare.  He did not
+ask for it.  The revolutionaries ordered him to bid his family
+farewell.  He raised his wife, his children, clasped them, bade
+them be of good courage, then said he was ready.  They took him
+into the street.  They stood him against a wall.  His wife and
+children watched from a window.  A volley sounded.  They descended
+to secure the body, pierced with twenty-five bullets."
+
+"That was exactly the number of wounds that were made on the body
+of little Jacques Zloriksky," came in the even tones of Natacha.
+
+"Oh, you, you always find an excuse," grumbled the general.  "Poor
+Boichlikoff did his duty, as I did mine.
+
+"Yes, papa, you acted like a soldier.  That is what the
+revolutionaries ought not to forget.  But have no fears for us,
+papa; because if they kill you we will all die with you."
+
+"And gayly too," declared Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+They should come this evening.  We are in form!"
+
+Upon which Athanase filled the glasses again.
+
+"None the less, permit me to say," ventured the timber-merchant,
+Thaddeus Tchnitchnikof, timidly, "permit me to say that this
+Boichlikoff was very imprudent."
+
+"Yes, indeed, very gravely imprudent," agreed Rouletabille.  "When
+a man has had twenty-five good bullets shot into the body of a
+child, he ought certainly to keep his home well guarded if he
+wishes to dine in peace."
+
+He stammered a little toward the end of this, because it occurred
+to him that it was a little inconsistent to express such opinions,
+seeing what he had done with the guard over the general.
+
+"Ah," cried Athanase Georgevitch, in a stage-struck voice, "Ah, it
+was not imprudence!  It was contempt of death!  Yes, it was contempt
+of death that killed him!  Even as the contempt of death keeps us,
+at this moment, in perfect health.   To you, ladies and gentlemen!
+Do you know anything lovelier, grander, in the world than contempt
+of death?  Gaze on Feodor Feodorovitch and answer me.  Superb!  My
+word, superb!  To you all!  The revolutionaries who are not of the
+police are of the same mind regarding our heroes.  They may curse
+the tchinownicks who execute the terrible orders given them by
+those higher up, but those who are not of the police (there are
+some, I believe) - these surely recognize that men like the Chief
+of the Surete our dead friend, are brave."
+
+"Certainly," endorsed the general.  "Counting all things, they need
+more heroism for a promenade in a salon than a soldier on a
+battle-field."
+
+"I have met some of these men," continued Athanase in exalted vein.
+"I have found in all their homes the same - imprudence, as our young
+French friend calls it. A few days after the assassination of the
+Chief of Police in Moscow I was received by his successor in the
+same place where the assassination had occurred.  He did not take
+the slightest precaution with me, whom he did not know at all, nor
+with men of the middle class who came to present their petitions,
+in spite of the fact that it was under precisely identical
+conditions that his predecessor had been slain.  Before I left I
+looked over to where on the floor there had so recently occurred
+such agony.  They had placed a rug there and on the rug a table,
+and on that table there was a book.  Guess what book.  'Women's
+Stockings,' by Willy!  And - and then -  Your health, Matrena
+Petrovna.  What's the odds!"
+
+"You yourselves, my friends," declared the general, prove your great
+courage by coming to share the hours that remain of my life with me."
+
+"Not at all, not at all!  It is war."
+
+"Yes, it is war."
+
+"Oh, there's no occasion to pat us on the shoulder, Athanase,"
+insisted Thaddeus modestly.  "What risk do we run?  We are well
+guarded."
+
+"We are protected by the finger of God," declared Athanase, "because
+the police - well, I haven't any confidence in the police."
+
+Michael Korsakoff, who had heen for a turn in the garden, entered
+during the remark.
+
+"Be happy, then, Athanase Georgevitch," said he, "for there are now
+no police around the villa."
+
+"Where are they?" inquired the timher-merchant uneasily.
+
+"An order came from Koupriane to remove them," explained Matrena
+Petrovna, who exerted herself to appear calm.
+
+"And are they not replaced?" asked Michael.
+
+"No.  It is incomprehensible.  There must have been some confusion
+in the orders given."  And Matrena reddened, for she loathed a lie
+and it was in tribulation of spirit that she used this fable under
+Rouletabille's directions.
+
+"Oh, well, all the better," said the general.  "It will give me
+pleasure to see my home ridded for a while of such people."
+
+Athanase was naturally of the same mind as the general, and when
+Thaddeus and Ivan Petrovitch and the orderlies offered to pass the
+night at the villa and take the place of the absent police, Feodor
+Feodorovitch caught a gesture from Rouletabille which disapproved
+the idea of this new guard.
+
+"No, no," cried the general emphatically.  "You leave at the usual
+time.  I want now to get back into the ordinary run of things, my
+word!  To live as everyone else does.  We shall be all right.
+Koupriane and I have arranged the matter.  Koupriane is less sure
+of his men, after all, than I am of my servants.  You understand
+me.  I do not need to explain further.  You will go home to bed
+- and we will all sleep.  Those are the orders.  Besides, you must
+remember that the guard-post is only a step from here, at the corner
+of the road, and we have only to give a signal to bring them all
+here.  But - more secret agents or special police - no, no!
+Good-night.  All of us to bed now!"
+
+They did not insist further.  When Feodor had said, "Those are the
+orders," there was room for nothing more, not even in the way of
+polite insistence.
+
+But before going to their beds all went into the veranda, where
+liqueurs were served by the brave Ermolai, as always.  Matrena
+pushed the wheel-chair of the general there, and he kept repeating,
+"No, no.  No more such people.  No more police.  They only bring
+trouble."
+
+"Feodor! Feodor!" sighed Matrena, whose anxiety deepened in spite
+of all she could do, "they watched over your dear life."
+
+"Life is dear to me only because of you, Matrena Petrovna."
+
+"And not at all because of me, papa?" said Natacha.
+
+"Oh, Natacha!"
+
+He took both her hands in his.  It was an affecting glimpse of
+family intimacy.
+
+>From time to time, while Ermolai poured the liqueurs, Feodor struck
+his band on the coverings over his leg.
+
+"It gets better," said he.  "It gets better."
+
+Then melancholy showed in his rugged face, and he watched night
+deepen over the isles, the golden night of St. Petersburg.  It was
+not quite yet the time of year for what they call the golden nights
+there, the "white nights," nights which never deepen to darkness,
+but they were already beautiful in their soft clarity, caressed,
+here by the Gulf of Finland, almost at the same time by the last
+and the first rays of the sun, by twilight and dawn.
+
+>From the height of the veranda one of the most beautiful bits of
+the isles lay in view, and the hour was so lovely that its charm
+thrilled these people, of whom several, as Thaddeus, were still
+close to nature.  It was he, first, who called to Natacha:
+
+"Natacha!  Natacha!  Sing us your 'Soir des Iles.'"
+
+Natacha's voice floated out upon the peace of the islands under the
+dim arched sky, light and clear as a night rose, and the guzia of
+Boris accompanied it.  Natacha sang:
+
+"This is the night of the Isles - at the north of the world.
+The sky presses in its stainless arms the bosom of earth,
+Night kisses the rose that dawn gave to the twilight.
+And the night air is sweet and fresh from across the shivering gulf,
+Like the breath of young girls from the world still farther north.
+Beneath the two lighted horizons, sinking and rising at once,
+The sun rolls rebounding from the gods at the north of the world.
+In this moment, beloved, when in the clear shadows of this 
+  rose-stained evening I am here alone with you,
+Respond, respond with a heart less timid to the holy, accustomed
+  cry of 'Good-evening.'"
+
+Ah, how Boris Nikolaievitch and Michael Korsakoff watched her as
+she sang!  Truly, no one ever can guess the anger or the love that
+broods in a Slavic heart under a soldier's tunic, whether the
+soldier wisely plays at the guzla, as the correct Boris, or merely
+lounges, twirling his mustache with his manicured and perfumed
+fingers, like Michael, the indifferent.
+
+Natacha ceased singing, but all seemed to be listening to her still
+- the convivial group on the terrace appeared to be held in charmed
+attention, and the porcelain statuettes of men on the lawn,
+according to the mode of the Iles, seemed to lift on their short
+legs the better to hear pass the sighing harmony of Natacha in the
+rose nights at the north of the world.
+
+Meanwhile Matrena wandered through the house from cellar to attic,
+watching over her husband like a dog on guard, ready to bite, to
+throw itself in the way of danger, to receive the blows, to die
+for its master - and hunting for Rouletabille, who had disappeared
+again.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE WATCH
+
+She went out to caution the servants to a strict watch, armed to
+the teeth, before the gate all night long, and she crossed the
+deserted garden.  Under the veranda the schwitzar was spreading a
+mattress for Ermolai.  She asked him if he had seen the young
+Frenchman anywhere, and after the answer, could only say to herself,
+"Where is he, then?"  Where had Rouletabille gone?   The general,
+whom she had carried up to his room on her back, without any help,
+and had helped into bed without assistance, was disturbed by this
+singular disappearance.   Had someone already carried off "their"
+Rouletabille?   Their friends were gone and the orderlies had taken
+leave without being able to say where this boy of a journalist had
+gone.  But it would be foolish to worry about the disappearance of
+a Journalist, they had said.  That kind of man - these journalists
+- came, went, arrived when one least expected them, and quitted
+their company - even the highest society - without formality.  It
+was what they called in France "leaving English fashion."  However,
+it appeared it was not meant to be impolite.  Perhaps he had gone
+to telegraph.  A journalist had to keep in touch with the telegraph
+at all hours.  Poor Matrena Petrovna roamed the solitary garden in
+tumult of heart.  There was the light in the general's window on
+the first floor.  There were lights in the basement from the
+kitchens.  There was a light on the ground-floor near the
+sitting-room, from Natacha's chamber window.  Ah, the night was
+hard to bear.  And this night the shadows weighed heavier than ever
+on the valiant breast of Matrena.  As she breathed she felt as
+though she lifted all the weight of the threatening night.  She
+examined everything - everything.  All was shut tight, was perfectly
+secure, and there was no one within excepting people she was
+absolutely sure of - but whom, all the same, she did not allow to
+go anywhere in the house excepting where their work called them.
+Each in his place.  That made things surer.  She wished each one
+could remain fixed like the porcelain statues of men out on the
+lawn.  Even as she thought it, here at her feet, right at her very
+feet, a shadow of one of the porcelain men moved, stretched itself
+out, rose to its knees, grasped her skirt and spoke in the voice
+of Rouletabille.  Ah, good! it was Rouletabille.  "Himself, dear
+madame; himself."
+
+"Why is Ermolai in the veranda?  Send him back to the kitchens and
+tell the schwitzar to go to bed.  The servants are enough for an
+ordinary guard outside.  Then you go in at once, shut the door,
+and don't concern yourself about me, dear madame.  Good-night."
+
+Rouletabille had resumed, in the shadows, among the other porcelain
+figures, his pose of a porcelain man.
+
+Matrena Petrovna did as she was told, returned to the house, spoke
+to the schwitzar, who removed to the lodge with Ermolai, and their
+mistress closed the outside door.  She had closed long before the
+door of the kitchen stair which allowed the domestics to enter the
+villa from below.  Down there each night the devoted gniagnia and
+the faithful Ermolai watched in turn.
+
+Within the villa, now closed, there were on the ground-floor only
+Matrena herself and her step-daughter Natacha, who slept in the
+chamber off the sitting-room, and, above on the first floor, the
+general asleep, or who ought to be asleep if he had taken his
+potion.  Matrena remained in the darkness of the drawing-room,
+her dark-lantern in her hand.  All her nights passed thus, gliding
+from door to door, from chamber to chamber, watching over the watch
+of the police, not daring to stop her stealthy promenade even to
+throw herself on the mattress that she had placed across the
+doorway of her husband's chamber.  Did she ever sleep?  She herself
+could hardly say.  Who else could, then?  A tag of sleep here and
+there, over the arm of a chair, or leaning against the wall, waked
+always by some noise that she heard or dreamed, some warning,
+perhaps, that she alone had heard.  And to-night, to-night there is
+Rouletabille's alert guard to help her, and she feels a little less
+the aching terror of watchfulness, until there surges back into her
+mind the recollection that the police are no longer there.  Was he
+right, this young man?  Certainly she could not deny that some way
+she feels more confidence now that the police are gone.  She does
+not have to spend her time watching their shadows in the shadows,
+searching the darkness, the arm-chairs, the sofas, to rouse them,
+to appeal in low tones to all they held binding, by their own name
+and the name of their father, to promise them a bonus that would
+amount to something if they watched well, to count them in order to
+know where they all were, and, suddenly, to throw full in their
+face the ray of light from her little dark-lantern in order to be
+sure, absolutely sure, that she was face to face with them, one of
+the police, and not with some other, some other with an infernal
+machine under his arm.  Yes, she surely had less work now that she
+had no longer to watch the police.  And she had less fear!
+
+She thanked the young reporter for that.  Where was he?  Did he
+remain in the pose of a porcelain statue all this time out there
+on the lawn?  She peered through the lattice of the veranda shutters
+and looked anxiously out into the darkened garden.  Where could
+he be?  Was that he, down yonder, that crouching black heap with an
+unlighted pipe in his mouth?  No, no.  That, she knew well, was the
+dwarf she genuinely loved, her little domovoi-doukh, the familiar
+spirit of the house, who watched with her over the general's life
+and thanks to whom serious injury had not yet befallen Feodor
+Feodorovitch - one could not regard a mangled leg that seriously.
+Ordinarily in her own country (she was from the Orel district) one
+did not care to see the domovoi-doukh appear in flesh and blood.
+When she was little she was always afraid that she would come upon
+him around a turn of the path in her father's garden.  She always
+thought of him as no higher than that, seated back on his haunches
+and smoking his pipe.  Then, after she was married, she had suddenly
+run across him at a turning in the bazaar at Moscow.  He was just
+as she had imagined him, and she had immediately bought him, carried
+him home herself and placed him, with many precautions, for he was
+of very delicate porcelain, in the vestibule of the palace.  And in
+leaving Moscow she had been careful not to leave him there.  She
+had carried him herself in a case and had placed him herself on the
+lawn of the datcha des Iles, that he might continue to watch over
+her happiness and over the life of her Feodor.  And in order that
+he should not be bored, eternally smoking his pipe all alone, she
+had surrounded him with a group of little porcelain genii, after
+the fashion of the Jardins des Iles.  Lord! how that young Frenchman
+had frightened her, rising suddenly like that, without warning, on
+the lawn.  She had believed for a moment that it was the
+domovoi-doukh himself rising to stretch his legs.  Happily he had
+spoken at once and she had recognized his voice.  And besides, her
+domovoi surely would not speak French.  Ah! Matrena Petrovna
+breathed freely now.  It seemed to her, this night, that there were
+two little familiar genii watching over the house.  And that was
+worth more than all the police in the world, surely.  How wily that
+little fellow was to order all those men away.  There was something
+it was necessary to know; it was necessary therefore that nothing
+should be in the way of learning it.  As things were now, the
+mystery could operate without suspicion or interference.  Only one
+man watched it, and he had not the air of watching.  Certainly
+Rouletabille had not the air of constantly watching anything.  He
+had the manner, out in the night, of an easy little man in porcelain,
+neither more nor less, yet he could see everything - if anything
+were there to see - and he could hear everything - if there were
+anything to hear.  One passed beside him without suspecting him,
+and men might talk to each other without an idea that he heard
+them, and even talk to themselves according to the habit people
+have sometimes when they think themselves quite alone.  All the
+guests had departed thus, passing close by him, almost brushing
+him, had exchanged their "Adieus," their "Au revoirs," and all
+their final, drawn-out farewells.  That dear little living domovoi
+certainly was a rogue!  Oh, that dear little domovoi who had been
+so affected by the tears of Matrena Petrovna! The good, fat,
+sentimental, heroic woman longed to hear, just then, his
+reassuring voice.
+
+"It is I.  Here I am," said the voice of her little living familiar
+spirit at that instant, and she felt her skirt grasped.  She waited
+for what he should say.  She felt no fear.  Yet she had supposed he
+was outside the house.  Still, after all, she was not too astonished
+that he was within.  He was so adroit!  He had entered behind her,
+in the shadow of her skirts, on all-fours, and had slipped away
+without anyone noticing him, while she was speaking to her enormous,
+majestic schwitzar.
+
+"So you were here?" she said, taking his hand and pressing it
+nervously in hers.
+
+"Yes, yes.  I have watched you closing the house.  It is a task
+well-done, certainly.  You have not forgotten anything."
+
+"But where were you, dear little demon?  I have been into all the
+corners, and my hands did not touch you."
+
+"I was under the table set with hors-d'oeuvres in the sitting-room."
+
+"Ah, under the table of zakouskis!  I have forbidden them before
+now to spread a long hanging cloth there, which obliges me to kick
+my foot underneath casually in order to be sure there is no one
+beneath.  It is imprudent, very imprudent, such table-cloths.  And
+under the table of zakouskis have you been able to see or hear
+anything?"
+
+"Madame, do you think that anyone could possibly see or hear
+anything in the villa when you are watching it alone, when the
+general is asleep and your step-daughter is preparing for bed?"
+
+"No.  no.  I do not believe so.  I do not.  No, oh, Christ!"
+
+They talked thus very low in the dark, both seated in a corner of
+the sofa, Rouletabille's hand held tightly in the burning hands of
+Matrena Petrovna.
+
+She sighed anxiously.  "And in the garden - have you heard anything?"
+
+"I heard the officer Boris say to the officer Michael, in French,
+'Shall we return at once to the villa?'  The other replied in
+Russian in a way I could see was a refusal.  Then they had a
+discussion in Russian which I, naturally, could not understand.
+But from the way they talked I gathered that they disagreed and
+that no love was lost between them."
+
+"No, they do not love each other.  They both love Natacha."
+
+"And she, which one of them does she love?  It is necessary to tell
+me."
+
+"She pretends that she loves Boris, and I believe she does, and yet
+she is very friendly with Michael and often she goes into nooks and
+corners to chat with him, which makes Boris mad with jealousy.  She
+has forbidden Boris to speak to her father about their marriage, on
+the pretext that she does not wish to leave her father now, while
+each day, each minute the general's life is in danger."
+
+"And you, madame - do you love your step-daughter?" brutally
+inquired the reporter.
+
+"Yes - sincerely," replied Matrena Petrovna, withdrawing her hand
+from those of Rouletabille.
+
+"And she - does she love you?"
+
+"I believe so, monsieur, I believe so sincerely.  Yes, she loves me,
+and there is not any reason why she should not love me.  I believe
+- understand me thoroughly, because it comes from my heart - that
+we all here in this house love one another.  Our friends are old
+proved friends.  Boris has been orderly to my husband for a very
+long time.  We do not share any of his too-modern ideas, and there
+were many discussions on the duty of soldiers at the time of the
+massacres.  I reproached him with being as womanish as we were in
+going down on his knees to the general behind Natacha and me, when
+it became necessary to kill all those poor moujiks of Presnia.  It
+was not his role.  A soldier is a soldier.  My husband raised him
+roughly and ordered him, for his pains, to march at the head of the
+troops.  It was right.  What else could he do?  The general already
+had enough to fight against, with the whole revolution, with his
+conscience, with the natural pity in his heart of a brave man, and
+with the tears and insupportable moanings, at such a moment, of his
+daughter and his wife.  Boris understood and obeyed him, but, after
+the death of the poor students, he behaved again like a woman in
+composing those verses on the heroes of the barricades; don't you
+think so?  Verses that Natacha and he learned by heart, working
+together, when they were surprised at it by the general.  There
+was a terrible scene.  It was before the next-to-the-last attack.
+The general then had the use of both legs.  He stamped his feet and
+fairly shook the house."
+
+"Madame," said Rouletabille, "a propos of the attacks, you must
+tell me about the third."
+
+As he said this, leaning toward her, Matrena Petrovna ejaculated a
+"Listen!" that made him rigid in the night with ear alert.  What
+had she heard?  For him, he had heard nothing.
+
+"You hear nothing?" she whispered to him with an effort.  "A
+tick-tack?"
+
+"No, I hear nothing."
+
+"You know - like the tick-tack of a clock.  Listen."
+
+"How can you hear the tick-tack?  I've noticed that no clocks are
+running here."
+
+"Don't you understand?  It is so that we shall be able to hear the
+tick-tack better."
+
+"Oh, yes, I understand.  But I do not hear anything."
+
+"For myself, I think I hear the tick-tack all the time since the
+last attempt.  It haunts my ears, it is frightful, to say to one's
+self: There is clockwork somewhere, just about to reach the
+death-tick - and not to know where, not to know where!  When the
+police were here I made them all listen, and I was not sure even
+when they had all listened and said there was no tick-tack.  It is
+terrible to hear it in my ear any moment when I least expect it.
+Tick-tack!  Tick-tack!  It is the blood beating in my ear, for
+instance, hard, as if it struck on a sounding-board.  Why, here
+are drops of perspiration on my hands!  Listen!"
+
+"Ab, this time someone is talking - is crying," said the young man.
+
+"Sh-h-h!"  And Rouletabille felt the rigid hand of Matrena Petrovna
+on his arm.  "It is the general.  The general is dreaming!"
+
+She drew him into the dining-room, into a corner where they could
+no longer hear the moanings.  But all the doors that communicated
+with the dining-room, the drawing-room and the sitting-room
+remained open behind him, by the secret precaution of Rouletabille.
+
+He waited while Matrena, whose breath he heard come hard, was a
+little behind.  In a moment, quite talkative, and as though she
+wished to distract Rouletabille's attention from the sounds above,
+the broken words and sighs, she continued:
+
+"See, you speak of clocks.  My husband has a watch which strikes.
+Well, I have stopped his watch because more than once I have been
+startled by hearing the tick-tack of his watch in his
+waistcoat-pocket.  Koupriane gave me that advice one day when he
+was here and had pricked his ears at the noise of the pendulums,
+to stop all my watches and clocks so that there would be no chance
+of confusing them with the tick-tack that might come from an
+infernal machine planted in some corner.  He spoke from experience,
+my dear little monsieur, and it was by his order that all the clocks
+at the Ministry, on the Naberjnaia, were stopped, my dear little
+friend.  The Nihilists, he told me, often use clockworks to set off
+their machines at the time they decide on.  No one can guess all
+the inventions that they have, those brigands.  In the same way,
+Koupriane advised me to take away all the draught-boards from the
+fireplaces.  By that precaution they were enabled to avoid a
+terrible disaster at the Ministry near the Pont-des-chantres, you
+know, petit demovoi?  They saw a bomb just as it was being lowered 
+nto the fire-place of the minister's cabinet.*  The Nihilists held
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+*Actual attack on Witte.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+it by a cord and were up on the roof letting it down the chimney.
+One of them was caught, taken to Schlusselbourg and hanged.  Here
+you can see that all the draught-boards of the fireplaces are
+cleared away."
+
+"Madame," interrupted Rouletabille (Matrena Petrovna did not know
+that no one ever succeeded in distracting Rouletabille's attention),
+"madame, someone moans still, upstairs."
+
+"Oh, that is nothing, my little friend.  It is the general, who has
+bad nights.  He cannot sleep without a narcotic, and that gives him
+a fever.  I am going to tell you now how the third attack came about.
+And then you will understand, by the Virgin Mary, how it is I have
+yet, always have, the tick-tack in my ears.
+
+"One evening when the general had got to sleep and I was in my own
+room, I heard distinctly the tick-tack of clockwork operating.  All
+the clocks had been stopped, as Koupriane advised, and I had made
+an excuse to send Feodor's great watch to the repairer.  You can
+understand how I felt when I heard that tick-tack.  I was frenzied.
+I turned my head in all directions, and decided that the sound came
+from my husband's chamber.  I ran there.  He still slept, man that
+he is!  The tick-tack was there.  But where?  I turned here and
+there like a fool.  The chamber was in darkness and it seemed
+absolutely impossible for me to light a lamp because I thought I
+could not take the time for fear the infernal machine would go off
+in those few seconds.  I threw myself on the floor and listened
+under the bed.  The noise came from above.  But where?  I sprang to
+the fireplace, hoping that, against my orders, someone had started
+the mantel-clock.  No, it was not that!  It seemed to me now that
+the tick-tack came from the hed itself, that the machine was in the
+bed.  The general awaked just then and cried to me, 'What is it,
+Matrena?  What are you doing?'  And he raised himself in bed, while
+I cried, 'Listen!  Hear the tick-tack.  Don't you hear the
+tick-tack?'  I threw myself upon him and gathered him up in my arms
+to carry him, but I trembled too much, was too weak from fear, and
+fell back with him onto the bed, crying, 'Help!'  He thrust me away
+and said roughly, 'Listen.'  The frightful tick-tack was behind us
+now, on the table.  But there was nothing on the table, only the
+night-light, the glass with the potion in it, and a gold vase where
+I had placed with my own hands that morning a cluster of grasses
+and wild flowers that Ermolai had brought that morning on his return
+from the Orel country.  With one bound I was on the table and at
+the flowers.  I struck my fingers among the grasses and the flowers,
+and felt a resistance.  The tick-tack was in the bouquet!  I took
+the bouquet in both hands, opened the window and threw it as far
+as I could into the garden.  At the same moment the bomb burst with
+a terrible noise, giving me quite a deep wound in the hand.  Truly,
+my dear little domovoi, that day we had been very near death, but
+God and the Little Father watched over us."
+
+And Matrena Petrovna made the sign of the cross.
+
+"All the windows of the house were broken.  In all, we escaped with
+the fright and a visit from the glazier, my little friend, but I
+certainly believed that all was over."
+
+"And Mademoiselle Natacha?" inquired Rouletabille.  "She must also
+have been terribly frightened, because the whole house must have
+rocked."
+
+"Surely.  But Natacha was not here that night.  It was a Saturday.
+She had been invited to the soiree du 'Michel' by the parents of
+Boris Nikolaievitch, and she slept at their house, after supper at
+the Ours, as had been planned.  The next day, when she learned the
+danger the general had escaped, she trembled in every limb.  She
+threw herself in her father's arms, weeping, which was natural
+enough, and declared that she never would go away from him again.
+The general told her how I had managed.  Then she pressed me to
+her heart, saying that she never would forget such an action, and
+that she loved me more than if I were truly her mother.  It was all
+in vain that during the days following we sought to understand how
+the infernal machine had been placed in the bouquet of wild flowers.
+Only the general's friends that you saw this evening, Natacha and
+I had entered the general's chamber during the day or in the evening.
+No servant, no chamber-maid, had been on that floor.  In the
+day-time as well as all night long that entire floor is closed and
+I have the keys.  The door of the servants' staircase which opens
+onto that floor, directly into the general's chamber, is always
+locked and barred on the inside with iron.  Natacha and I do the
+chamber work.  There is no way of taking greater precautions.  Three
+police agents watched over us night and day.  The night of the
+bouquet two had spent their time watching around the house, and the
+third lay on the sofa in the veranda.  Then, too, we found all the
+doors and windows of the villa shut tight.  In such circumstances
+you can judge whether my anguish was not deeper than any I had known
+hitherto.  Because to whom, henceforth, could we trust ourselves?
+what and whom could we believe?  what and whom could we watch?
+>From that day, no other person but Natacha and me have the right to
+go to the first floor.  The general's chamber was forbidden to his
+friends.  Anyway, the general improved, and soon had the pleasure
+of receiving them himself at his table.  I carry the general down
+and take him to his room again on my back.  I do not wish anyone
+to help.  I am strong enough for that.  I feel that I could carry
+him to the end of the world if that would save him.  Instead of
+three police, we had ten; five outside, five inside.  The days went
+well enough, but the nights were frightful, because the shadows of
+the police that I encountered always made me fear that I was face
+to face with the Nihilists.  One night I almost strangled one with
+my hand.  It was after that incident that we arranged with
+Koupriane that the agents who watched at night, inside, should stay
+placed in the veranda, after having, at the end of the evening,
+made complete examination of everything.  They were not to leave
+the veranda unless they heard a suspicious noise or I called to
+them.  And it was after that arrangement that the incident of the
+floor happened, that has puzzled so both Koupriane and me."
+
+"Pardon, madame," interrupted Rouletabille, "but the agents, during
+the examination of everything, never went to the bedroom floor?"
+
+"No, my child, there is only myself and Natacha, I repeat, who,
+since the bouquet, go there."
+
+"Well, madame, it is necessary to take me there at once."
+
+"At once!"
+
+"Yes, into the general's chamber."
+
+"But he is sleeping, my child.  Let me tell you exactly how the
+affair of the floor happened, and you  will know as much of it as
+I and as Koupriane."
+
+"To the general's chamber at once."
+
+She took both his hands and pressed them nervously.  "Little friend!
+Little friend!  One hears there sometimes things which are the
+secret of the night!  You understand me?"
+
+"To the general's chamber, at once, madame."
+
+Abruptly she decided to take him there, agitated, upset as she was
+by ideas and sentiments which held her without respite between the
+wildest inquietude and the most imprudent audacity.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+"THE YOUTH OF MOSCOW IS DEAD"
+
+Rouletabille let himself be led by Matrena through the night, but
+he stumbled and his awkward hands struck against various things.
+The ascent to the first floor was accomplished in profound silence.
+Nothing broke it except that restless moaning which had so affected
+the young man just before.
+
+The tepid warmth, the perfume of a woman's boudoir, then, beyond,
+through two doors opening upon the dressing-room which lay between
+Matrena's chamber and Feodor's, the dim luster of a night-lamp
+showed the bed where was stretched the sleeping tyrant of Moscow.
+Ah, he was frightening to see, with the play of faint yellow light
+and diffused shadows upon him.  Such heavy-arched eyebrows, such
+an aspect of pain and menace, the massive jaw of a savage come from
+the plains of Tartary to be the Scourge of God, the stiff, thick,
+spreading beard.  This was a form akin to the gallery of old nobles
+at Kasan, and young Rouletabille imagined him as none other than
+Ivan the Terrible himself.  Thus appeared as he slept the excellent
+Feodor Feodorovitch, the easy, spoiled father of the family table,
+the friend of the advocate celebrated for his feats with knife and
+fork and of the bantering timber-merchant and amiable bear-hunter,
+the joyous Thaddeus and Athanase; Feodor, the faithful spouse of
+Matrena Petrovna and the adored papa of Natacha, a brave man who
+was so unfortunate as to have nights of cruel sleeplessness or
+dreams more frightful still.
+
+At that moment a hoarse sigh heaved his huge chest in an uneven
+rhythm, and Rouletabille, leaning in the doorway of the
+dressing-room, watched - but it was no longer the general that he
+watched, it was something else, lower down, beside the wall, near
+the door, and it was that which set him tiptoeing so lightly across
+the floor that it gave no sound.  There was no slightest sound in
+the chamber, except the heavy breathing lifting the rough chest.
+Behind Rouletabille Matrena raised her arms, as though she wished
+to hold him back, because she did not know where he was going.
+What was he doing?   Why did he stoop thus beside the door and why
+did he press his thumb all along the floor at the doorway?  He rose
+again and returned.  He passed again before the bed, where rumbled
+now, like the bellows of a forge, the respiration of the sleeper.
+Matrena grasped Rouletabille by the hand.  And she had already
+hurried him into the dressing-room when a moan stopped them.
+
+"The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+It was the sleeper speaking.  The mouth which had given the
+stringent orders moaned.  And the lamentation was still a menace.
+In the haunted sleep thrust upon that man by the inadequate narcotic
+the words Feodor Feodorovitch spoke were words of mourning and pity.
+This perfect fiend of a soldier, whom neither bullets nor bombs
+could intimidate, had a way of saying words which transformed their
+meaning as they came from his terrible mouth.  The listeners could
+not but feel absorbed in the tones of the brutal victor.
+
+Matrena Petrovna and Rouletabille had leant their two shadows,
+blended one into the other, against the open doorway just beyond
+the gleam of the night-lamp, and they heard with horror:
+
+"The youth of Moscow is dead!   They have cleared
+away the corpses.  There is nothing but ruin left.  The Kremlin
+itself has shut its gates - that it may not see.  The youth of
+Moscow is dead!"
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch's fist shook above his bed; it seemed that he
+was about to strike, to kill again, and Rouletabille felt Matrena
+trembling against him, while he trembled as well before the
+fearful vision of the killer in the Red Week!
+
+Feodor heaved an immense sigh and his breast descended under the
+bed-clothes, the fist relaxed and fell, the great head lay over on
+its ear.  There was silence.  Had he repose at last?  No, no.  He
+sighed, he choked anew, he tossed on his couch like the damned in
+torment, and the words written by his daughter - by his daughter
+- blazed in his eyes, which now were wide open - words written on
+the wall, that he read on the wall, written in blood.
+
+  "The youth of Moscow is dead!  They had gone so young into the
+     fields and into the mines,
+  And they had not found a single corner of the Russian land where
+     there were not moanings.
+  Now the youth of Moscow is dead and no more moanings are heard,
+  Because those for whom all youth died do not dare even to moan
+     any more.
+
+But - what?  The voice of Feodor lost its threatening tone.  His
+breath came as from a weeping child.  And it was with sobs in his
+throat that he said the last verse, the verse written by his
+daughter in the album, in red letters:
+
+  "The last barricade had standing there the girl of eighteen
+     winters, the virgin of Moscow, flower of the snow.
+  Who gave her kisses to the workmen struck by the bullets
+     from the soldiers of the Czar;
+  "She aroused the admiration of the very soldiers who, weeping,
+     killed her:
+  "What killing!  All the houses shuttered, the windows with heavy
+     eyelids of plank in order not to see! -
+  "And the Kremlin itself has closed its gates - that it may 
+     not see.
+  "The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+"Feodor!  Feodor!"
+
+She had caught him in her arms, holding him fast, comforting him
+while still he raved, "The youth of Moscow is dead," and appeared
+to thrust away with insensate gestures a crowd of phantoms.  She
+crushed him to her breast, she put her hands over his mouth to make
+him stop, but he, saying, "Do you hear?  Do you hear?  What do they
+say?  They say nothing, now.  What a tangle of bodies under the
+sleigh, Matrena!  Look at those frozen legs of those poor girls we
+pass, sticking out in all directions, like logs, from under their
+icy, blooded skirts.  Look, Matrena!"
+
+And then came further delirium uttered in Russian, which was all the
+more terrible to Rouletabille because he could not comprehend it.
+
+Then, suddenly, Feodor became silent and thrust away Matrena
+Petrovna.
+
+"It is that abominable narcotic," he said with an immense sigh.
+"I'll drink no more of it.  I do not wish to drink it."
+
+With one hand he pointed to a large glass on the table beside him,
+still half full of a soporific mixture with which he moistened his
+lips each time he woke; with the other hand he wiped the perspiration
+from his face.  Matrena Petrovna stayed trembling near him, suddenly
+overpowered by the idea that he might discover there was someone
+there behind the door, who had seen and heard the sleep of General
+Trebassof!  Ah, if he learned that, everything was over.  She might
+say her prayers; she should die.
+
+But Rouletabille was careful to give no sign.  He barely breathed.
+What a nightmare!  He understood now the emotion of the general's
+friends when Natacha had sung in her low, sweet voice, "Good-night.
+May your eyes have rest from tears and calm re-enter your heart
+oppressed." The friends had certainly been made aware, by Matrena's
+anxious talking, of the general's insomnia, and they could not
+repress their tears as they listened to the poetic wish of charming
+Natacha.  "All the same," thought Rouletabille, "no one could
+imagine what I have just seen.  They are not dead for everyone in
+the world, the youths of Moscow, and every night I know now a
+chamber where in the glow of the night-lamp they rise - they rise
+- they rise!" and the young man frankly, naively regretted to have
+intruded where he was; to have penetrated, however unintentionally,
+into an affair which, after all, concerned only the many dead and
+the one living.  Why had he come to put himself between the dead and
+the living?  It might be said to him: "The living has done his whole
+heroic duty," but the dead, what else was it that they had done?
+
+Ah, Rouletabille cursed his curiosity, for - he saw it now - it was
+the desire to approach the mystery revealed by Koupriane and to
+penetrate once more, through all the besetting dangers, an astounding
+and perhaps monstrous enigma, that had brought him to the threshold
+of the datcha des Iles, which had placed him in the trembling hands
+of Matrena Petrovna in promising her his help.  He had shown pity,
+certainly, pity for the delirious distress of that heroic woman.
+But there had been more curiosity than pity in his motives.  And
+now he must pay, because it was too late now to withdraw, to say
+casually, "I wash my hands of it."  He had sent away the police and
+he alone remained between the general and the vengeance of the dead!
+He might desert, perhaps!  That one idea brought him to himself,
+roused all his spirit.  Circumstances had brought him into a camp
+that he must defend at any cost, unless he was afraid!
+
+The general slept now, or, at least, with eyelids closed simulated
+sleep, doubtless in order to reassure poor Matrena who, on her knees
+beside his pillow, had retained the hand of her terrible husband in
+her own.  Shortly she rose and rejoined Rouletabille in her chamber.
+She took him then to a little guest-chamber where she urged him to
+get some sleep.  He replied that it was she who needed rest.  But,
+agitated still by what had just happened, she babbled:
+
+"No, no!  after such a scene I would have nightmares myself as well.
+Ah, it is dreadful!  Appalling!  Appalling!  Dear little monsieur,
+it is the secret of the night.  The poor man!  Poor unhappy man!
+He cannot tear his thoughts away from it.  It is his worst and
+unmerited punishment, this translation that Natacha has made of
+Boris's abominable verses.  He knows them by heart, they are in his
+brain and on his tongue all night long, in spite of narcotics, and
+he says over and over again all the time, 'It is my daughter who
+has written that!  - my daughter!  - my daughter!'  It is enough
+to wring all the tears from one's body - that an aide-de-camp of a
+general, who himself has killed the youth of Moscow, is allowed to
+write such verses and that Natacha should take it upon herself to
+translate them into lovely poetic French for her album.  It is hard
+to account for what they do nowadays, to our misery."
+
+She ceased, for just then they heard the floor creak under a step
+downstairs.  Rouletabille stopped Matrena short and drew his
+revolver.  He wished to creep down alone, but he had not time.  As
+the floor creaked a second time, Matrena's anguished voice called
+down the staircase in Russian, "Who is there?" and immediately the
+calm voice of Natacha answered something in the same language.
+Then Matrena, trembling more and more, and very much excited
+keeping steadily to the same place as though she had been nailed
+to the step of the stairway, said in French, "Yes, all is well;
+your father is resting.  Good-night, Natacha."  They heard Natacha's
+step cross the drawing-room and the sitting-room.  Then the door of
+her chamber closed.  Matrena and Rouletabille descended, holding
+their breath.  They reached the dining-room and Matrena played her
+dark-lantern on the sofa where the general always reclined.  The
+sofa was in its usual place on the carpet.  She pushed it back and
+raised the carpet, laying the floor bare.  Then she got onto her
+knees and examined the floor minutely.  She rose, wiping the
+perspiration from her brow, put the carpet hack in place, adjusted
+the sofa and dropped upon it with a great sigh.
+
+"Well?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Nothing at all," said she.
+
+"Why did you call so openly?"
+
+"Because there was no doubt that it could only be my step-daughter
+on the ground-floor at that hour."
+
+"And why this anxiety to examine the floor again?"
+
+"I entreat you, my dear little child, do not see in my acts anything
+mysterious, anything hard to explain.  That anxiety you speak of
+never leaves me.  Whenever I have the chance I examine the flooring."
+
+"Madame," demanded the young man, "what was your daughter doing in
+this room?"
+
+"She came for a glass of mineral water; the bottle is still on the
+table."
+
+"Madame, it is necessary that you tell me precisely what Koupriane
+has only hinted to me, unless I am entirely mistaken.  The first
+time that you thought to examine the floor, was it after you heard
+a noise on the ground-floor such as has just happened?"
+
+"Yes.  I will tell you all that is necessary.  It was the night
+after the attempt with the bouquet, my dear little monsieur, my
+dear little domovoi; it seemed to me I heard a noise on the
+ground-floor.  I hurried downstairs and saw nothing suspicious at
+first.  Everything was shut tight.  I opened the door of Natacha's
+chamber softly.  I wished to ask her if she had heard anything.
+But she was so fast asleep that I had not the heart to awaken her.
+I opened the door of the veranda, and all the police - all, you
+understand - slept soundly.  I took another turn around the
+furniture, and, with my lantern in my hand, I was just going out
+of the dining-room when I noticed that the carpet on the floor was
+disarranged at one corner.  I got down and my hand struck a great
+fold of carpet near the general's sofa.  You would have said that
+the sofa had been rolled carelessly, trying to replace it in the
+position it usually occupied.  Prompted by a sinister presentiment,
+I pushed away the sofa and I lifted the carpet.  At first glance I
+saw nothing, but when I examined things closer I saw that a strip
+of wood did not lie well with the others on the floor.  With a
+knife I was able to lift that strip and I found that two nails
+which had fastened it to the beam below had been freshly pulled out.
+It was just so I could raise the end of the board a little without
+being able to slip my hand under.  To lift it any more it would be
+necessary to pull at least half-a-dozen nails.  What could it mean?
+Was I on the point of discovering some new terrible and mysterious
+plan?  I let the board fall back into place.  I spread the carpet
+back again carefully, put the sofa in its place, and in the morning
+sent for Koupriane."
+
+Rouletabille interrupted.
+
+"You had not, madame, spoken to anyone of this discovery?"
+
+" To no one."
+
+"Not even to your step-daughter?"
+
+"No," said the husky voice of Matrena, "not even to my step-daughter."
+
+"Why?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Because," replied Matrena, after a moment's hesitation, "there were
+already enough frightening things about the house.  I would not have
+spoken to my daughter any more than I would have said a word to the
+general.  Why add to the disquiet they already .suffered so much,
+in case nothing developed?"
+
+"And what did Koupriane say?"
+
+"We examined the, floor together, secretly.  Koupriane slipped his
+hand under more easily than I had done, and ascertained that under
+the board, that is to say between the beam and the ceiling of the
+kitchen, there was a hollow where any number of things might be
+placed.  For the moment the board was still too little released for
+any maneuver to be possible.  Koupriane, when he rose, said to me,
+'You have happened, madame, to interrupt the person in her
+operations.  But we are prepared henceforth.  We know what she does
+and she is unaware that we know.  Act as though you had not noticed
+anything; do not speak of it to anyone whatever - and watch.  Let
+the general continue to sit in his usual place and let no one
+suspect that we have discovered the beginnings of this attempt.  It
+is the only way we can plan so that they will continue.  All the
+same,' he added, 'I will give my agents orders to patrol the
+ground-floor anew during the night.  I would be risking too much to
+let the person continue her work each night.  She might continue it
+so well that she would be able to accomplish it - you understand
+me?  But by day you arrange that the rooms on the ground-floor be
+free from time to time - not for long, but from time to time.' I
+don't know why, but what he said and the way he said it frightened
+me more than ever.  However, I carried out his program.  Then, three
+days later, about eight o'clock, when the night watch was not yet
+started, that is to say at the moment when the police were still
+all out in the garden or walking around the house, outside, and when
+I had left the the ground-floor perfectly free while I helped the
+general to bed, I felt drawn even against myself suddenly to the
+dining-room.  I lifted the carpet and examined the floor.  Three
+more nails had been drawn from the board, which lifted more easily
+now, and under it, I could see that the normal cavity had been made
+wider still!"
+
+When she had said this, Matrena stopped, as if, overcome, she could
+not tell more.
+
+"Well?" insisted Rouletabille.
+
+"Well, I replaced things as I found them and made rapid inquiries
+of the police and their chief; no one had entered the ground-floor.
+You understand me? - no one at all.  Neither had anyone come out
+from it."
+
+"How could anyone come out if no one had entered?"
+
+"I wish to say," said she with a sob, "that Natacha during this
+space of time had been in her chamber, in her chamber on the
+ground-floor."
+
+"You appear to be very disturbed, madame, at this recollection.
+Can you tell me further, and precisely, why you are agitated?"
+
+"You understand me, surely," she said, shaking her head.
+
+"If I understand you correctly, I have to understand that from the
+previous time you examined the floor until the time that you noted
+three more nails drawn out, no other person could have entered the
+dining-room but you and your step-daughter Natacha."
+
+Matrena took Rouletabille's hand as though she had reached an
+important decision.
+
+"My little friend," moaned she, "there are things I am not able to
+think about and which I can no longer entertain when Natacha embraces
+me.  It is a mystery more frightful than all else.  Koupriane tells
+me that he is sure, absolutely sure, of the agents he kept here; my
+sole consolation, do you see, my little friend can tell you frankly,
+now that you have sent away those men - my sole consolation since
+that day has been that Koupriane is less sure of his men than I am
+of Natacha."
+
+She broke down and sobbed.
+
+When she was calmed, she looked for Rouletabille, and could not
+find him.  Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her dark-lantern,
+and, furtively, crept to her post beside the general.
+
+For that day these are the points in Rouletabille's notebook:
+
+"Topography: Villa surrounded by a large garden on three sides.
+The fourth side gives directly onto a wooded field that stretches
+to the river Neva.  On this side the level of the ground is much
+lower, so low that the sole window opening in that wall (the window
+of Natacha's sitting-room on the ground-floor) is as high from the
+ground as though it were on the next floor in any other part of the
+house.  This window is closed by iron shutters, fastened inside by
+a bar of iron.
+
+"Friends: Atbanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch, Thaddeus the
+timber-merchant (peat boots), Michael and Boris (fine shoes).
+Matrena, sincere love, blundering heroism.  Natacha unknown. Against
+Natacha:  Never there during the attacks.  At Moscow at the time of
+the bomb in the sleigh, no one knows where she was, and it is she
+who should have accompanied the general (detail furnished by
+Koupriane that Matrena generously kept back).  The night of the
+bouquet is the only night Natacha has slept away from the house.
+Coincidence of the disappearance of the nails and the presence all
+alone on the ground-floor of Natacha, in case, of course, Matrena 
+id not pull them out herself.  For Natacha: Her eyes when she looks
+at her father."
+
+And this bizarre phrase:
+
+"We mustn't be rash.  This evening I have not yet spoken to Matrena
+Petrovna about the little hat-pin.  That little hat-pin is the
+greatest relief of my life."
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+BY ROULETABILLE'S 0RDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+
+"Good morning, my dear little familiar spirit.  The general slept
+splendidly the latter part of the night.  He did not touch his
+narcotic.   I am sure it is that dreadful mixture that gives him
+such frightful dreams.  And you, my dear little friend, you have
+not slept an instant.  I know it.  I felt you going everywhere
+about the house like a little mouse.  Ah, it seems good, so good.
+I slept so peacefully, hearing the subdued movement of your little
+steps.  Thanks for the sleep you have given me, little friend."
+
+Matrena talked on to Rouletahille, whom she had found the morning
+after the nightmare tranquilly smoking his pipe in the garden.
+
+"Ah, ah, you smoke a pipe.  Now you do certainly look exactly like
+a dear little domovoi-doukh.  See how much you are alike.  He
+smokes just like you.  Nothing new, eh?  You do not look very bright
+this morning.  You are worn out.  I have just arranged the little
+guest-chamber for you, the only one we have, just behind mine.
+Your bed is waiting for you.  Is there anything you need?  Tell me.
+Everything here is at your service."
+
+"I'm not in need of anything, madame," said the young man smilingly,
+after this outpouring of words from the good, heroic dame.
+
+"How can you say that, dear child?   You will make yourself sick.
+I want you to understand that I wish you to rest.  I want to be a
+mother to you, if you please, and you must obey me, my child.  Have
+you had breakfast yet this morning?  If you do not have breakfast
+promptly mornings, I will think you are annoyed.  I am so annoyed
+that you have heard the secret of the night.  I have been afraid
+that you would want to leave at once and for good, and that you
+would have mistaken ideas about the general.  There is not a
+better man in the world that Feodor, and he must have a good, a
+very good conscience to dare, without fail, to perform such terrible
+duties as those at Moscow, when he is so good at heart.  These
+things are easy enough for wicked people, but for good men, for
+good men who can reason it out, who know what they do and that they
+are condemned to death into the bargain, it is terrible, it is
+terrible!  Why, I told him the moment things began to go wrong in
+Moscow, 'You know what to expect, Feodor.  Here is a dreadful time
+to get through - make out you are sick.'  I believed he was going
+to strike me, to kill me on the spot.  'I!  Betray the Emperor in
+such a moment!  His Majesty, to whom I owe everything!  What are
+you thinking of, Matrena Petrovna!'  And he did not speak to me
+after that for two days.  It was only when he saw I was growing
+very ill that he pardoned me, but he had to be plagued with my
+jeremiads and the appealing looks of Natacha without end in his
+own home each time we heard any shooting in the street.  Natacha
+attended the lectures of the Faculty, you know.  And she knew many
+of them, and even some of those who were being killed on the
+barricades.  Ah, life was not easy for him in his own home, the
+poor general!  Besides, there was also Boris, whom I love as well,
+for that matter, as my own child, because I shall be very happy to
+see him married to Natacha - there was poor Boris who always came
+home from the attacks paler than a corpse and who could not keep
+from moaning with us."
+
+"And Michael?" questioned Rouletabille.
+
+"Oh, Michael only came towards the last.  He is a new orderly to
+the general.  The government at St. Petersburg sent him, because
+of course they couldn't help learning that Boris rather lacked zeal
+in repressing the students and did not encourage the general in
+being as severe as was necessary for the safety of the Empire.  But
+Michael, he has a heart of stone; he knows nothing but the
+countersign and massacres fathers and mothers, crying, 'Vive le
+Tsar!'  Truly, it seems his heart can only be touched by the sight
+of Natacha.  And that again has caused a good deal of anxiety to
+Feodor and me.  It has caught us in a useless complication that we
+would have liked to end by the prompt marriage of Natacha and Boris.
+But Natacha, to our great surprise, has not wished it to be so.  No,
+she has not wished it, saying that there is always time to think of
+her wedding and that she is in no hurry to leave us.  Meantime she
+entertains herself with this Michael as if she did not fear his
+passion, and neither has Michael the desperate air of a man who
+knows the definite engagement of Natacha and Boris.  And my
+step-daughter is not a coquette.  No, no.  No one can say she is a
+coquette.  At least, no one had been able to say it up to the time
+that Michael arrived.  Can it be that she is a coquette?  They are
+mysterious, these young girls, very mysterious, above all when they
+have that calm and tranquil look that Natacha always has; a face,
+monsieur, as you have noticed perhaps, whose beauty is rather
+passive whatever one says and does, excepting when the volleys in
+the streets kill her young comrades of the schools.  Then I have
+seen her almost faint, which proves she has a great heart under
+her tranquil beauty.  Poor Natacha!  I have seen her excited as I
+over the life of her father.  My little friend, I have seen her
+searching in the middle of the night, with me, for infernal
+machines under the furniture, and then she has expressed the
+opinion that it is nervous, childish, unworthy of us to act like
+that, like timid beasts under the sofas, and she has left me to
+search by myself.  True, she never quits the general.  She is more
+reassured, and is reassuring to him, at his side.  It has an
+excellent moral effect on him, while I walk about and search like
+a beast.  And she has become as fatalistic as he, and now she sings
+verses to the guzla, like Boris, or talks in corners with Michael,
+which makes the two enraged each with the other.  They are curious,
+the young women of St. Petersburg and Moscow, very curious.  We
+were not like that in our time, at Orel.  We did not try to enrage
+people.  We would have received a box on the ears if we had."
+
+Natacha came in upon this conversation, happy, in white voile,
+fresh and smiling like a girl who had passed an excellent night.
+She asked after the health of the young man very prettily and
+embraced Matrena, in truth as one embraces a much-beloved mother.
+She complained again of Matrena's night-watch.
+
+"You have not stopped it, mamma; you have not stopped it, eh?  You
+are not going to be a little reasonable at last?  I beg of you!
+What has given me such a mother!  Why don't you sleep?  Night is
+made for sleep.  Koupriane has upset you.  All the terrible things
+are over in Moscow.  There is no occasion to think of them any more.
+That Koupriane makes himself important with his police-agents and
+obsesses us all.  I am convinced that the affair of the bouquet
+was the work of his police."
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Rouletabille, "I have just had them all sent
+away, all of them - because I think very much the same as you do."
+
+"Well, then, you will be my friend, Monsieur Rouletabille I promise
+you, since you have done that.  Now that the police are gone we
+have nothing more to fear.  Nothing.  I tell you, mamma; you can
+believe me and not weep any more, mamma dear."
+
+"Yes, yes; kiss me.  Kiss me again!" repeated Matrena, drying her
+eyes.  "When you kiss me I forget everything.  You love me like
+your own mother, don't you?"
+
+"Like my mother.  Like my own mother."
+
+"You have nothing to hide from me?  - tell me, Natacha."
+
+"Nothing to hide."
+
+"Then why do you make Boris suffer so?  Why don't you marry him?"
+
+"Because I don't wish to leave you, mamma dear."
+
+She escaped further parley by jumping up on the garden edge away
+from Khor, who had just been set free for the day.
+
+"The dear child," said Matrena; "the dear little one, she little
+knows how much pain she has caused us without being aware of it,
+by her ideas, her extravagant ideas.  Her father said to me one
+day at Moscow, 'Matrena Petrovna, I'll tell you what I think
+- Natacha is the victim of the wicked books that have turned the
+brains of all these poor rebellious students.  Yes, yes; it would
+be better for her and for us if she did not know how to read, for
+there are moments - my word!  - when she talks very wildly, and
+I have said to myself more than once that with such ideas her place
+is not in our salon hut behind a barricade.  All the same,' he
+added after reflection, 'I prefer to find her in the salon where I
+can embrace her than behind a barricade where I would kill her like
+a mad dog.'  But my husband, dear little monsieur, did not say what
+he really thinks, for he loves his daughter more than all the rest
+of the world put together, and there are things that even a general,
+yes, even a governor-general, would not be able to do without
+violating both divine and human laws.  He suspects Boris also of
+setting Natacha's wits awry.  We really have to consider that when
+they are married they will read everything they have a mind to.  My
+husband has much more real respect for Michael Korsakoff because of
+his impregnable character and his granite conscience.  More than
+once he has said, 'Here is the aide I should have had in the worst
+days of Moscow.  He would have spared me much of the individual
+pain.'  I can understand how that would please the general, but how
+such a tigerish nature succeeds in appealing to Natacha, how it
+succeeds in not actually revolting her, these young girls of the
+capital, one never can tell about them - they get away from all
+your notions of them."
+
+Rouletabille inquired:
+
+"Why did Boris say to Michael, 'We will return together'?  Do they
+live together?"
+
+"Yes, in the small villa on the Krestowsky Ostrov, the isle across
+from ours, that you can see from the window of the sitting-room.
+Boris chose it because of that.  The orderlies wished to have
+camp-beds prepared for them right here in the general's house, by
+a natural devotion to him; but I opposed it, in order to keep them
+both from Natacha, in whom, of course, I have the most complete
+confidence, but one cannot be sure about the extravagance of men
+nowadays."
+
+Ermolai came to announce the petit-dejeuner.  They found Natacha
+already at table and she poured them coffee and milk, eating away
+all the time at a sandwich of anchovies and caviare.
+
+"Tell me, mamma, do you know what gives me such an appetite?  It
+is the thought of the way poor Koupriane must have taken this
+dismissal of his men.  I should like to go to see him."
+
+"If you see him," said Rouletabille, "it is unnecessary to tell him
+that the general will go for a long promenade among the isles this
+afternoon, because without fail he would send us an escort of
+gendarmes."
+
+"Papa!  A promenade among the islands?  Truly?  Oh, that is going
+to be lovely!"
+
+Matrena Petrovna sprang to her feet.
+
+"Are you mad, my dear little domovoi, actually mad?"
+
+"Why?  Why?  It is fine.  I must run and tell papa."
+
+"Your father's room is locked," said Matrena brusquely.
+
+"Yes, yes; he is locked in.  You have the key.  Locked away until
+death!  You will kill him.  It will be you who kills him."
+
+She left the table without waiting for a reply and went and shut
+herself also in her chamber.
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille, who continued his breakfast as
+though nothing had happened.
+
+"Is it possible that you speak seriously?" she demanded, coming
+over and sitting down beside him.  "A promenade!  Without the
+police, when we have received again this morning a letter saying
+now that before forty-eight hours the general will be dead!"
+
+"Forty-eight hours," said Rouletabille, soaking his bread in his
+chocolate, "forty-eight hours?  It is possible.  In any case, I
+know they will try something very soon."
+
+"My God, how is it that you believe that?  You speak with assurance."
+
+"Madame, it is necessary to do everything I tell you, to the letter."
+
+"But to have the general go out, unless he is guarded - how can you
+take such a responsibility?  When I think about it, when I really
+think about it, I ask myself how you have dared send away the police.
+But here, at least, I know what to do in order to feel a little safe,
+I know that downstairs with Gniagnia and Ermolai we have nothing to
+fear.  No stranger can approach even the basement.  The provisions
+are brought from the lodge by our dvornicks whom we have had sent
+from my mother's home in the Orel country and who are as devoted to
+us as bull-dogs.  Not a bottle of preserves is taken into the
+kitchens without having been previously opened outside.  No package
+comes from any tradesman without being opened in the lodge.  Here,
+within, we are able to feel a little safe, even without the police
+- but away from here - outside!"
+
+"Madame, they are going to try to kill your husband within
+forty-eight hours.  Do you desire me to save him perhaps for a long
+time - for good, perhaps?"
+
+"Ah, listen to him!  Listen to him, the dear little domovoi!  But
+what will Koupriane say?  He will not permit any venturing beyond
+the villa; none, at least for the moment.  Ah, now, how he looks at
+me, the dear little domovoi!  Oh, well, yes.  There, I will do as
+you wish."
+
+"Very well, come into the garden with me."
+
+She accompanied him, leaning on his arm.
+
+"Here's the idea," said Rouletabille.  "This afternoon you will go
+with the general in his rolling-chair.  Everybody will follow.
+Everyone, you understand, Madame - understand me thoroughly, I mean
+to say that everyone who wishes to come must be invited to.  Only
+those who wish to remain behind will do so.  And do not insist.  Ah,
+now, I see, you understand me.  Why do you tremble?"
+
+"But who will guard the house?"
+
+"No one.  Simply tell the servant at the lodge to watch from the
+lodge those who enter the villa, but simply from the lodge, without
+interfering with them, and saying nothing to them, nothing."
+
+"I will do as you wish.  Do you want me to announce our promenade
+beforehand?"
+
+"Why, certainly.  Don't be uneasy; let everybody have the good news."
+
+"Oh, I will tell only the general and his friends, you may be sure."
+
+"Now, dear Madame, just one more word.  Do not wait for me at
+luncheon."
+
+"What!  You are going to leave us?" she cried instantly, breathless.
+"No, no.  I do not wish it.  I am willing to do without the police,
+but I am not willing to do without you.  Everything might happen in
+your absence.  Everything!  Everything!" she repeated with singular
+energy.  "Because, for me, I cannot feel sure as I should, perhaps.
+Ah, you make me say these things.  Such things!  But do not go."
+
+"Do not be afraid; I am not going to leave you, madame."
+
+"Ah, you are good!  You are kind, kind!  Caracho!  (Very well.)"
+
+"I will not leave you.  But I must not be at luncheon.  If anyone
+asks where I am, say that I have my business to look after, and
+have gone to interview political personages in the city."
+
+"There's only one political personage in Russia," replied Matrena
+Petrovna bluntly; "that is the Tsar."
+
+"Very well; say I have gone to interview the Tsar."
+
+"But no one will believe that.  And where will you be?"
+
+"I do not know myself.  But I will be about the house."
+
+"Very well, very well, dear little domovoi."
+
+She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what
+she should think - her head was all in a muddle.
+
+In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus
+Tchnitchnikof arrived.  The general was already in the veranda.
+Michael and Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn
+how he had passed the night without the police.  When they were told
+that Feodor was going for a promenade that afternoon they applauded
+his decision.  "Bravo!  A promenade a la strielka (to the head of
+the island) at the hour when all St.  Petersburg is driving there.
+That is fine.  We will all be there."  The general made them stay
+for luncheon.  Natacha appeared for the meal, in rather melancholy
+mood.  A little before luncheon she had held a double conversation
+in the garden with Michael and Boris.  No one ever could have known
+what these three young people had said if some stenographic notes in
+Rouletabille's memorandum-book did not give us a notion; the reporter
+had overheard, by accident surely, since all self-respecting
+reporters are quite incapable of eavesdropping.
+
+The memorandum notes:
+
+Natacha went into the garden with a book, which she gave to Boris,
+who pressed her hand lingeringly to his lips.  "Here is your book;
+I return it to you.  I don't want any more of them, the ideas surge
+so in my brain.  It makes my head ache.  It is true, you are right,
+I don't love novelties.  I can satisfy myself with Pouchkine
+perfectly.  The rest are all one to me.  Did you pass a good night?"
+
+Boris (good-looking young man, about thirty years old, blonde, a
+little effeminate, wistful.  A curious appurtenance in the military
+household of so vigorous a general).  "Natacha, there is not an
+hour that I can call truly good if I spend it away from you, dear,
+dear Natacha."
+
+"I ask you seriously if you have passed a good night?"
+
+She touched his hand a moment and looked into his eyes, but he
+shook his head.
+
+"What did you do last night after you reached home?" she demanded
+insistently.  "Did you stay up?"
+
+"I obeyed you; I only sat a half-hour by the window looking over
+here at the villa, and then I went to bed."
+
+"Yes, it is necessary you should get your rest.  I wish it for you
+as for everyone else.  This feverish life is impossible.  Matrena
+Petrovna is getting us all ill, and we shall be prostrated."
+
+"Yesterday," said Boris, "I looked at the villa for a half-hour
+from my window.  Dear, dear villa, dear night when I can feel you
+breathing, living near me.  As if you had been against my heart.  I
+could have wept because I could hear Michael snoring in his chamber.
+He seemed happy.  At last, I heard nothing more, there was nothing
+more to hear but the double chorusof frogs in the pools of the 
+sland.  Our pools, Natacha, are like the enchanted lakes of the
+Caucasus which are silent by day and sing at evening; there are
+innumerabel throngs of frogs which sing on the same chord, some of
+them on a major and some on a minor.  The chorus speaks from pool
+to pool, lamenting and moaning across the fields and gardens, and
+re-echoing like AEolian harps placed opposite one another."
+
+"Do AEolian harps make so much noise, Boris?"
+
+"You laugh?  I don't find you yourself half the time.  It is Michael
+who has changed you, and I am out of it.  (Here they spoke in
+Russian.)  I shall not be easy until I am your husband.  I can't
+understand your manner with Michael at all."
+
+(Here more Russian words which I do not understand.)
+
+"Speak French; here is the gardener," said Natacha.
+
+"I do not like the way you are managing our lives.  Why do you
+delay our marriage?  Why?
+
+(Russian words from Natacha.  Gesture of desperation from Boris.)
+
+"How long?  You say a long time?  But that says nothing - a long
+time.  How long?  A year?  Two years?  Ten years?  Tell me, or I
+will kill myself at your feet.  No, no; speak or I will kill
+Michael.  On my word!  Like a dog!"
+
+"I swear to you, by the dear head of your mother, Boris, that the
+date of our marriage does not depend on Michael."
+
+(Some words in Russian.  Boris, a little consoled, holds her hand
+lingeringly to his lips.)
+
+Conversation between Michael and Natacha in the garden:
+
+"Well?  Have you told him?"
+
+"I ended at last by making him understand that there is not any
+hope.  None.  It is necessary to have patience.  I have to have it
+myself."
+
+"He is stupid and provoking."
+
+"Stupid, no.  Provoking, yes, if you wish.  But you also, you are
+provoking."
+
+"Natacha!  Natacha!"
+
+(Here more Russian.)  As Natacha started to leave, Michael placed
+his hand on her shoulder, stopped her and said, looking her direct
+in the eyes:
+
+"There will be a letter from Annouchka this evening, by a messenger
+at five o'clock."  He made each syllable explicit.  "Very important
+and requiring an immediate reply."
+
+These notes of Rouletabille's are not followed by  any commentary.
+
+After luncheon the gentlemen played poker until half-past four,
+which is the "chic" hour for the promenade to the head of the
+island.  Rouletabille had directed Matrena to start exactly at a
+quarter to five.  He appeared in the meantime, announcing that he
+had just interviewed the mayor of St. Petersburg, which made Athanase
+laugh, who could not understand that anyone would come clear from
+Paris to talk with men like that.  Natacha came from her chamber to
+join them for the promenade.  Her father told her she looked too
+worried.
+
+They left the villa.  Rouletabille noted that the dvornicks were
+before the gate and that the schwitzar was at his post, from which
+he could detect everyone who might enter or leave the villa.
+Matrena pushed the rolling-chair herself.  The general was radiant.
+He had Natacha at his right and at his left Athanase and Thaddeus.
+The two orderlies followed, talking with Rouletabille, who had
+monopolized them.  The conversation turned on the devotion of
+Matrena Petrovna, which they placed above the finest heroic traits
+in the women of antiquity, and also on Natacha's love for her father.
+Rouletabille made them talk.
+
+Boris Mourazoff explained that this exceptional love was accounted
+for by the fact that Natacha's own mother, the general's first wife,
+died in giving birth to their daughter, and accordingly Feodor
+Feodorovitch had been both father and mother to his daughter.  He
+had raised her with the most touching care, not permitting anyone
+else, when she was sick, to have the care of passing the nights by
+her bedside.
+
+Natacha was seven years old when Feodor Feodorovitch was appointed
+governor of Orel.  In the country near Orel, during the summer, the
+general and his daughter lived on neighborly terms near the family
+of old Petroff, one of the richest fur merchants in Russia.  Old
+Petroff had a daughter, Matrena, who was magnificent to see, like
+a beautiful field-flower.  She was always in excellent humor, never
+spoke ill of anyone in the neighborhood, and not only had the fine
+manners of a city dame but a great, simple heart, which she lavished
+on the little Natacha.
+
+The child returned the affection of the beautiful Matrena, and it
+was on seeing them always happy to find themselves together that
+Trebassof dreamed of reestablishing his fireside.  The nuptials
+were quickly arranged, and the child, when she learned that her
+good Matrena was to wed her papa, danced with joy.  Then misfortune
+came only a few weeks before the ceremony.  Old Petroff, who
+speculated on the Exchange for a long time without anyone knowing
+anything about it, was ruined from top to bottom.  Matrena came one
+evening to apprise Feodor Feodorovitch of this sad news and return
+his pledge to him.  For all response Feodor placed Natacha in
+Matrena's arms.  "Embrace your mother," he said to the child, and
+to Matrena,  "From to-day I consider you my wife, Matrena Petrovna.
+You should obey me in all things.  Take that reply to your father
+and tell him my purse is at his disposition."
+
+The general was already, at that time, even before he had inherited
+the Cheremaieff, immensely rich.  He had lands behind Nijni as vast
+as a province, and it would have been difficult to count the number
+of moujiks who worked for him on his property.  Old Pretroff gave
+his daughter and did not wish to accept anything in exchange.  Feodor
+wished to settle a large allowance on his wife; her father opposed
+that, and Matrena sided with him in the matter against her husband,
+because of Natacha.  "It all belongs to the little one," she
+insisted.  "I accept the position of her mother, but on the condition
+that she shall never lose a kopeck of her inheritance."
+
+"So that," concluded Boris, "if the general died tomorrow she would
+be poorer than Job."
+
+"Then the general is Matrena's sole resource," reflected Rouletabille
+aloud.
+
+"I can understand her hanging onto him," said Michael Korsakoff,
+blowing the smoke of his yellow cigarette.  "Look at her.  She
+watches him like a treasure."
+
+"What do you mean, Michael Nikolaievitch?" said Boris, curtly.
+"You believe, do you, that the devotion of Matrena Petrovna is not
+disinterested.  You must know her very poorly to dare utter such
+a thought."
+
+"I have never had that thought, Boris Alexandrovitch," replied the
+other in a tone curter still.  "To be able to imagine that anyone
+who lives in the Trebassofs' home could have such a thought needs
+an ass's head, surely."
+
+"We will speak of it again, Michael Nikolaievitch."
+
+"At your pleasure, Boris Alexandrovitch."
+
+They had exchanged these latter words tranquilly continuing their
+walk and negligently smoking their yellow tobacco.  Rouletabille was
+between them.  He did not regard them; he paid no attention even to
+their quarrel; he had eyes only for Natacha, who just now quit her
+place beside her father's wheel-chair and passed by them with a
+little nod of the head, seeming in haste to retrace the way back to
+the villa.
+
+"Are you leaving us?" Boris demanded of her.
+
+"Oh, I will rejoin you immediately.  I have forgotten my umbrella."
+
+"But I will go and get it for you," proposed Michael."
+
+"No, no.  I have to go to the villa; I will return right away."
+
+She was already past them.  Rouletabille, during this, looked at
+Matrena Petrovna, who looked at him also, turning toward the young
+man a visage pale as wax.  But no one else noted the emotion of the
+good Matrena, who resumed pushing the general's wheel-chair.
+
+Rouletabille asked the officers, "Was this arrangement because the
+first wife of the general, Natacha's mother, was rich?"
+
+"No.  The general, who always had his heart in his hand," said
+Boris, "married her for her great beauty.  She was a beautiful girl
+of the Caucasus, of excellent family besides, that Feodor
+Feodorovitch had known when he was in garrison at Tiflis."
+
+"In short," said Rouletabille, "the day that General Trebassof dies
+Madame Trebassof, who now possesses everything, will have nothing,
+and the daughter, who now has nothing, will have everything."
+
+"Exactly that," said Michael.
+
+"That doesn't keep Matrena Petrovna and Natacha Feodorovna from
+deeply loving each other," observed Boris.
+
+The little party drew near the "Point."  So far the promenade had
+been along pleasant open country, among the low meadows traversed
+by fresh streams, across which tiny bridges had been built, among
+bright gardens guarded by porcelain dwarfs, or in the shade of
+small weeds from the feet of whose trees the newly-cut grass gave
+a seasonal fragrance.  All was reflected in the pools - which lay
+like glass whereon a scene-painter had cut the green hearts of the
+pond-lily leaves.  An adorable country glimpse which seemed to have
+been created centuries back for the amusement of a queen and
+preserved, immaculately trimmed and cleaned, from generation to
+generation, for the eternal charm of such an hour as this on the
+banks of the Gulf of Finland.
+
+Now they had reached the bank of the Gulf, and the waves rippled to
+the prows of the light ships, which dipped gracefully like huge and
+rapid sea-gulls, under the pressure of their great white sails.
+
+Along the roadway, broader now, glided, silently and at walking
+pace, the double file of luxurious equipages with impatient horses,
+the open carriages in which the great personages of the court saw
+the view and let themselves be seen.  Enormous coachmen held the
+reins high.  Lively young women, negligently reclining against the
+cushions, displayed their new Paris toilettes, and kept young
+officers on horseback busy with salutes.  There were all kinds of
+uniforms.  No talking was heard.  Everyone was kept busy looking.
+There rang in the pure, thin air only the noise of the champing bits
+and the tintinnabulation of the bells attached to the hairy Finnish
+ponies' collars.  And all that, so beautiful, fresh, charming and
+clear, and silent, it all seemed more a dream than even that which
+hung in the pools, suspended between the crystal of the air and the
+crystal of the water.  The transparence of the sky and the
+transparence of the gulf blended their two unrealities so that one
+could not note where the horizons met.
+
+Rouletabille looked at the view and looked at the general, and in
+all his young vibrating soul there was a sense of infinite sadness,
+for he recalled those terrible words in the night: "They have gone
+into all the corners of the Russian land, and they have not found
+a single corner of that land where there are not moanings."  "Well,"
+thought he, "they have not come into this corner, apparently.  I
+don't know anything lovelier or happier in the world."  No, no,
+Rouletabille, they have not come here.  In every country there is
+a corner of happy life, which the poor are ashamed to approach,
+which they know nothing of, and of which merely the sight would
+turn famished mothers enraged, with their thin bosoms, and, if it
+is not more beautiful than that, certainly no part of the earth is
+made so atrocious to live in for some, nor so happy for others as
+in this Scythian country, the boreal country of the world.
+
+Meanwhile the little group about the general's rolling-chair had
+attracted attention.  Some passers-by saluted, and the news spread
+quickly that General Trebassof had come for a promenade to "the
+Point."  Heads turned as carriages passed; the general, noticing
+how much excitement his presence produced, begged Matrena Petrovna
+to push his chair into an adjacent by-path, behind a shield of
+trees where he would be able to enjoy the spectacle in peace.
+
+He was found, nevertheless, by Koupriane, the Chief of Police, who
+was looking for him.  He had gone to the datcha and been told
+there that the general, accompanied by his friends and the young
+Frenchman, had gone for a turn along the gulf.  Koupriane had left
+his carriage at the datcha, and taken the shortest route after them.
+
+He was a fine man, large, solid, clear-eyed.  His uniform showed
+his fine build to advantage.  He was generally liked in St.
+Petersburg, where his martial bearing and his well-known bravery
+had given him a sort of popularity in society, which, on the other
+hand, had great disdain for Gounsovski, the head of the Secret
+Police, who was known to be capable of anything underhanded and
+had been accused of sometimes play-ng into the hands of the
+Nihilists, whom he disguised as agents-provocateurs, without
+anybody really doubting it, and he had to fight against these
+widespread political suspicions.
+
+Well-informed men declared that the death of the previous "prime
+mnister," who had been blown up before Varsovie station when he was
+on his way to the Tsar at Peterhof, was Gounsovski's work and that
+in this he was the instrument of the party at court which had sworn
+the death of the minister which inconvenienced it.* On the other
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+1Rumored cause of Plehve's assassination.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+hand, everyone regarded Koupriane as incapable of participating in
+any such horrors and that he contented himself with honest
+performance of his obvious duties, confining himself to ridding the
+streets of its troublesome elements, and sending to Siberia as many
+as he could of the hot-heads, without lowering himself to the
+compromises which, more than once, had given grounds for the enemies
+of the empire to maintain that it was difilcult to say whether the
+chiefs of the Russian police played the part of the law or that of
+the revolutionary party, even that the police had been at the end
+of a certain time of such mixed procedure hardly able to decide
+themselves which they did.
+
+This afternoon Koupriane appeared very nervous.  He paid his
+compliments to the general, grumbled at his imprudence, praised him
+for his bravery, and then at once picked out Rouletabille, whom he
+took aside to talk to.
+
+"You have sent my men back to me," said he to the young reporter.
+"You understand that I do not allow that.  They are furious, and
+quite rightly.  You have given publicly as explanation of their
+departure - a departure which has naturally astonished, stupefied
+the general's friends - the suspicion of their possible participation
+in the last attack.  That is abominable, and I will not permit it.
+My men have not been trained in the methods of Gounsovski, and it
+does them a cruel injury, which I resent, for that matter,
+personally, to treat them this way.  But let that go, as a matter
+of sentiment, and return to the simple fact itself, which proves
+your excessive imprudence, not to say more, and which involves you,
+you alone, in a responsibility of which you certainly have not
+measured the importance.  All in all, I consider that you have
+strangely abused the complete authority that I gave you upon the
+Emperor's orders.  When I learned what you had done I went to find
+the Tsar, as was my duty, and told him the whole thing.  He was more
+astonished than can be expressed.  He directed me to go myself to
+find out just how things were and to furnish the general the guard
+you had removed.  I arrive at the isles and not only find the villa
+open like a mill where anyone may enter, but I am informed, and then
+I see, that the general is promenading in the midst of the crowd,
+at the mercy of the first miserable venturer.  Monsieur Rouletabille,
+I am not satisfied.  The Tsar is not satisfied.  And, within an hour,
+my men will return to assume their guard at the datcha."
+
+Rouletabille listened to the end.  No one ever had spoken to him in
+that tone.  He was red, and as ready to burst as a child's balloon
+blown too hard.  He said:
+
+"And I will take the train this evening."
+
+"You will go?"
+
+"Yes, and you can guard your general all alone. I have had enough
+of it.  Ah, you are not satisfied!  Ah, the Tsar is not satisfied!
+It is too bad.  No more of it for me.  Monsieur, I am not satisfied,
+and I say Good-evening to you.  Only do not forget to send me from
+here every three or four days a letter which will keep me informed
+of the health of the general, whom I love dearly.  I will offer up
+a little prayer for him."
+
+Thereupon he was silent, for he caught the glance of Matrena
+Petrovna, a glance so desolated, so imploring, so desperate, that
+the poor woman inspired him anew with great pity.  Natacha had not
+returned.  What was the young girl doing at that moment?  If Matrena
+really loved Natacha she must be suffering atrociously.  Koupriane
+spoke; Rouletabille did not hear him, and he had already forgotten
+his own anger.  His spirit was wrapped in the mystery.
+
+"Monsieur," Koupriane finished by saying, tugging his sleeve, "do
+you hear me?  I pray you at least reply to me.  I offer all possible
+excuses for speaking to you in that tone.  I reiterate them.  I ask
+your pardon.  I pray you to explain your conduct, which appeared
+imprudent to me but which, after all, should have some reason.  I
+have to explain to the Emperor.  Will you tell me?  What ought I to
+say to the Emperor?"
+
+"Nothing at all," said Rouletabille.  "I have no explanation to
+give you or the Emperor, or to anyone.  You can offer him my utmost
+homage and do me the kindness to vise my passport for this evening."
+
+And he sighed:
+
+"It is too bad, for we were just about to see something interesting."
+
+Koupriane looked at him.  Rouletabille had not quitted Matrena
+Petrovna's eyes, and her pallor struck Koupriane.
+
+"Just a minute," continued the young man.  "I'm sure there is
+someone who will miss me - that brave woman there.  Ask her which
+she prefers, all your police, or her dear little domovoi.  We are
+good friends already.  And - don't forget to present my condolences
+to her when the terrible moment has come."
+
+It was Koupriane's turn to be troubled.
+
+He coughed and said:
+
+"You believe, then, that the general runs a great immediate danger?"
+
+"I do not only believe it, monsieur, I am sure of it.  His death
+is a matter of hours for the poor dear man.  Before I go I shall
+not fail to tell him, so that he can prepare himself comfortably
+for the great journey and ask pardon of the Lord for the rather
+heavy hand he has laid on these poor men of Presnia."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, have you discovered something?"
+
+"Good Lord, yes, I have discovered something, Monsieur Koupriane.
+You don't suppose I have come so far to waste my time, do you?"
+
+"Something no one else knows?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Koupriane, otherwise I shouldn't have troubled to
+feel concerned.  Something I have not confided to anyone, not even
+to my note-hook, because a note-book, you know, a note-book can
+always be lost.  I just mention that in case you had any idea of
+having me searched before my departure."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur Rouletabille!"
+
+"Eh, eh, like the way the police do in your country; in mine too,
+for that matter.  Yes, that's often enough seen.  The police,
+furious because they can't hit a clue in some case that interests
+them, arrest a reporter who knows more than they do, in order to
+make him talk.  But - nothing of that sort with me, monsieur.  You
+might have me taken to your famous 'Terrible Section,' I'd not open
+my mouth, not even in the famous rocking-chair, not even under the
+blows of clenched fists."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, what do you take us for?  You are the guest
+of the Tsar."
+
+"Ah, I have the word of an honest man.  Very well, I will treat you
+as an honest man.  I will tell you what I have discovered.  I don't
+wish through any false pride to keep you in darkness about something
+which may perhaps - I say perhaps - permit you to save the general."
+
+"Tell me.  I am listening."
+
+"But it is perfectly understood that once I have told you this you
+will give me my passport and allow me to depart?"
+
+"You feel that you couldn't possibly," inquired Koupriane, more and
+more troubled, and after a moment of hesitation, "you couldn't
+possibly tell me that and yet remain?"
+
+"No, monsieur.  From the moment you place me under the necessity of
+explaining each of my movements and each of my acts, I prefer to go
+and leave to you that 'responsibility' of which you spoke just now,
+my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+Astonished and disquieted by this long conversation between
+Rouletabille and the Head of Police, Matrena Petrovna continually
+turned upon them her anguished glance, which always insensihly
+softened as it rested on Rouletabille.  Koupriane read there all
+the hope that the brave woman had in the young reporter, and he
+read also in Rouletabille's eye all the extraordinary confidence
+that the mere boy had in himself.  As a last consideration had he
+not already something in hand in circumstances where all the
+police of the world had admitted themselves vanquished?  Koupriane
+pressed Rouletabille's hand and said just one word to him:
+
+" Remain."
+
+Having saluted the general and Matrena affectionately, and a group
+of friends in one courteous sweep, he departed, with thoughtful brow.
+
+During all this time the general, enchanted with the promenade,
+told stories of the Caucasus to his friends, believing himself young
+again and re-living his nights as sub-lieutenant at Tills.  As to
+Natacha, no one had seen her.  They retraced the way to the villa
+along deserted by-paths.  Koupriane's call made occasion for Athanase
+Georgevitch and Thaddeus, and the two officers also, to say that he
+was the only honest man in all the Russian police, and that Matrena
+Petrovna was a great woman to have dared rid herself of the entire
+clique of agents, who are often more revolutionary than the
+Nihilists themselves.  Thus they arrived at the datcha.
+
+The general inquired for Natacha, not understanding why she had
+left him thus during his first venture out.  The schwitzar replied
+that the young mistress had returned to the house and had left again
+about a quarter of an hour later, taking the way that the party had
+gone on their promenade, and he had not seen her since.
+
+Boris spoke up:
+
+"She must have passed on the other side of the carriages while we
+were behind the trees, general, and not seeing us she has gone on
+her way, making the round of the island, over as far as the Barque."
+
+The explanation seemed the most plausible one.
+
+"Has anyone else been here?" demanded Matrena, forcing her voice to
+be calm.  Rouletabille saw her hand tremble on the handle of the
+rolling-chair, which she had not quitted for a second during all
+the promenade, refusing aid from the officers, the friends, and
+even from Rouletabille.
+
+"First there came the Head of Police, who told me he would go and
+find you, Barinia, and right after, His Excellency the Marshal of
+the Court.  His Excellency will return, although he is very pressed
+for time, before he takes the train at seven o'clock for
+Krasnoie-Coelo."
+
+All this had been said in Russian, naturally, but Matrena translated
+the words of the schwitzar into French in a low voice for
+Rouletabille, who was near her.  The general during this time had
+taken Rouletabille's hand and pressed it affectionately, as if, in
+that mute way, to thank him for all the young man bad done for
+them.  Feodor himself also had confidence, and he was grateful for
+the freer air that he was being allowed to breathe.  It seemed to
+him that he was emerging from prison.  Nevertheless, as the
+promenade had been a little fatiguing, Matrena ordered him to go
+and rest immediately.  Athanase and Thaddeus took their leave.
+The two officers were already at the end of the garden, talking
+coldly, and almost confronting one another, like wooden soldiers.
+Without doubt they were arranging the conditions of an encounter to
+settle their little difference at once.
+
+The schwitzar gathered the general into his great arms and carried
+him into the veranda.  Feodor demanded five minutes' respite before
+he was taken upstairs to his chamber.  Matrena Petrovna had a light
+luncheon brought at his request.  In truth, the good woman trembled
+with impatience and hardly dared move without consulting
+Rouletabille's face.  While the general talked with Ermolai, who
+passed him his tea, Rouletabille made a sign to Matrena that she
+understood at once.  She joined the young man in the drawing-room.
+
+"Madame," he said rapidly, in a low voice, "you must go at once to
+see what has happened there."
+
+He pointed to the dining-room. 
+
+"Very well."
+
+It was pitiful to watch her.
+
+"Go, madame, with courage."
+
+"Why don't you come with me?"
+
+"Because, madame, I have something to do elsewhere.  Give me the
+keys of the next floor."
+
+"No, no.  What for?"
+
+"Not a second's delay, for the love of Heaven.  Do what I tell you
+on your side, and let me do mine.  The keys!  Come, the keys!"
+
+He snatched them rather than took them, and pointed a last time to
+the dining-room with a gesture so commanding that she did not
+hesitate further.  She entered the dining-room, shaking, while he
+bounded to the upper floor.  He was not long.  He took only time
+to open the doors, throw a glance into the general's chamber, a
+single glance, and to return, letting a cry of joy escape him,
+borrowed from his new and very limited accomplishment of Russian,
+"Caracho!"
+
+How Rouletabille, who had not spent half a second examining the
+general's chamber, was able to be certain that all went well on
+that side, when it took Matrena - and that how many times a day!
+- at least a quarter of an hour of ferreting in all the corners
+each time she explored her house before she was even inadequately
+reassured, was a question.  If that dear heroic woman had been with
+him during this "instant information" she would have received such
+a shock that, with all confidence gone, she would have sent for
+Koupriane immediately, and all his agents, reinforced by the
+personnel of the Okrana (Secret Police).  Rouletabille at once
+rejoined the general, whistling.  Feodor and Ermolai were deep in
+conversation about the Orel country.  The young man did not disturb
+them.  Then, soon, Matrena reappeared.  He saw her come in quite
+radiant.  He handed back her keys, and she took them mechanically.
+She was overjoyed and did not try to hide it.  The general himself
+noticed it, and asked what had made her so.
+
+"It is my happiness over our first promenade since we arrived at
+the datcha des Iles," she explained.  "And now you must go upstairs
+to bed, Feodor.  You will pass a good night, I am sure."
+
+"I can sleep only if you sleep, Matrena."
+
+"I promise you.  It is quite possible now that we have our dear
+little domovoi.  You know, Feodor, that he smokes his pipe just
+like the dear little porcelain domovoi."
+
+"He does resemble him, he certainly does," said Feodor.  "That
+makes us feel happy, but I wish him to sleep also."
+
+"Yes, yes," smiled Rouletabille, "everybody will sleep here.  That
+is the countersign.  We have watched enough.  Since the police are
+gone we can all sleep, believe me, general."
+
+"Eh, eh, I believe you, on my word, easily enough.  There were only
+they in the house capable of attempting that affair of the bouquet.
+I have thought that all out, and now I am at ease.  And anyway,
+whatever happens, it is necessary to get sleep, isn't it?  The
+chances of war!  Nichevo!"  He pressed Rouletabille's hand, and
+Matrena Petrovna took, as was her habit, Feodor Feodorovitch on her
+back and lugged him to his chamber.  In that also she refused aid
+from anyone.  The general clung to his wife's neck during the ascent
+and laughed like a child.  Rouletabille remained in the hallway,
+watching the garden attentively.  Ermolai walked out of the villa
+and crossed the garden, going to meet a personage in uniform whom
+the young man recognized immediately as the grand-marshal of the
+court, who had introduced him to the Tsar.  Ermolai informed him
+that Madame Matrena was engaged in helping her husband retire, and
+the marshal remained at the end of the garden where he had found
+Michael and Boris talking in the kiosque.  All three remained there
+for some time in conversation, standing by a table where General
+and Madame Trebassof sometimes dined when they bad no guests.  As
+they talked the marshal played with a box of white cardboard tied
+with a pink string.  At this moment Matrena, who had not been able
+to resist the desire to talk for a moment with Rouletabille and
+tell him how happy she was, rejoined the young man.
+
+"Little domovoi," said she, laying her hand on his shoulder, "you
+have not watched on this side?"
+
+She pointed in her turn to the dining-room.
+
+"No, no.  You have seen it, madame, and I am sufficiently informed."
+
+"Perfectly.  There is nothing.  No one has worked there!  No one
+has touched the board.  I knew it.  I am sure of it.  It is dreadful
+what we have thought about it!  Oh, you do not know how relieved and
+happy I am.  Ah, Natacha, Natacha, I have not loved you in vain.
+(She pronounced these words in accents of great beauty and tragic
+sincerity.)  When I saw her leave us, my dear, ah, my legs sank
+under me.  When she said, 'I have forgotten something; I must hurry
+back,' I felt I had not the strength to go a single step.  But now
+I certainly am happy, that weight at least is off my heart, off my
+heart, dear little domovoi, because of you, because of you."
+
+She embraced him, and then ran away, like one possessed, to resume
+her post near the general.
+
+Notes in Rouletabille's memorandum-book: The affair of the little
+cavity under the floor not having been touched again proves nothing
+for or against Natacha (even though that excellent Matrena Petrovna
+thinks so).  Natacha could very well have been warned by the too
+great care with which Madame Matrena watched the floor.  My opinion,
+since I saw Matrena lift the carpet the first time without any real
+precaution, is that they have definitely abandoned the preparation
+of that attack and are trying to account for the secret becoming
+known.  What Matrena feels so sure of is that the trap I laid by
+the promenade to the Point was against Natacha particularly.  I
+knew beforehand that Natacha would absent herself during the
+promenade.  I'm not looking for anything new from Natacha, but what
+I did need was to be sure that Matrena didn't detest Natacha, and
+that she had not faked the preparations for an attack under the
+floor in such a way as to throw almost certain suspicion on her
+step-daughter.  I am sure about that now.  Matrena is innocent of
+such a thing, the poor dear soul.  If Matrena had been a monster
+the occasion was too good.  Natacha's absence, her solitary
+presence for a quarter of an hour in the empty villa, all would
+have urged Matrena, whom I sent alone to search under the carpet
+in the dining-room, to draw the last nails from the board if she
+was really guilty of having drawn the others.  Natacha would have
+been lost then!  Matrena returned sincerely, tragically happy at
+not having found anything new, and now I have the material proof
+that I needed.  Morally and physically Matrena is removed from it.
+So I am going to speak to her about the hat-pin.  I believe that
+the matter is urgent on that side rather than on the side of the
+nails in the floor.
+
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+
+After the departure of Matrena, Rouletabille turned his attention
+to the garden.   Neither the marshal of the court nor the officers
+were there any longer.  The three men had disappeared.  Rouletabille
+wished to know at once where they had gone.  He went rapidly to the
+gate, named the officers and the marshal to Ermolai, and Ermolai
+made a sign that they had passed out.  Even as he spoke he saw the
+marshal's carriage disappear around a corner of the road.  As to
+the two officers, they were nowhere on the roadway.  He was
+surprised that the marshal should have gone without seeing Matrena
+or the general or himself, and, above all, he was disquieted by the
+disappearance of the orderlies.  He gathered from the gestures of
+Ermolai that they had passed before the lodge only a few minutes
+after the marshal's departure.  They had gone together.  Rouletabille
+set himself to follow them, traced their steps in the soft earth of
+the roadway and soon they crossed onto the grass.  At this point
+the tracks through the massed ferns became very difficult to follow.
+He hurried along, bending close to the ground over such traces as he
+could see, which continually led him astray, but which conducted him
+finally to the thing that he sought.  A noise of voices made him
+raise his head and then throw himself behind a tree.  Not twenty
+steps from him Natacha and Boris were having an animated
+conversation.  The young officer held himself erect directly in
+front of her, frowning and impatient.  Under the uniform cloak that
+he had wrapped about him without having bothered to use the sleeves,
+which were tossed up over his chest, Boris had his arms crossed.
+His entire attitude indicated hauteur, coldness and disdain for
+what he was hearing.  Natacha never appeared calmer or more mistress
+of herself.  She talked to him rapidly and mostly in a low voice.
+Sometimes a word in Russian sounded, and then she resumed her care
+to speak low.  Finally she ceased, and Boris, after a short silence,
+in which he had seemed to reflect deeply, pronounced distinctly
+these words in French, pronouncing them syllable by syllable, as
+though to give them additional force:
+
+"You ask a frightful thing of me."
+
+"It is necessary to grant it to me," said the young girl with
+singular energy.  "You understand, Boris Alexandrovitch! It is
+necessary."
+
+Her gaze, after she had glanced penetratingly all around her and
+discovered nothing suspicious, rested tenderly on the young
+officer, while she murmured, "My Boris!"  The young man could not
+resist either the sweetness of that voice, nor the captivating charm
+of that glance.  He took the hand she extended toward him and kissed
+it passionately.  His eyes, fixed on Natacha, proclaimed that he
+granted everything that she wished and admitted himself vanquished.
+Then she said, always with that adorable gaze upon him, "This
+evening!"  He replied, "Yes, yes.  This evening!  This evening!"
+upon which Natacha withdrew her hand and made a sign to the officer
+to leave, which he promptly obeyed.  Natacha remained there still a
+long time, plunged in thought.  Rouletabille had already taken the
+road back to the villa.  Matrena Petrovna was watching for his
+return, seated on the first step of the landing on the great
+staircase which ran up from the veranda.  When she saw him she ran
+to him.  He had already reached the dining-room.
+
+"Anyone in the house?" he asked.
+
+"No one.  Natacha has not returned, and ..."
+
+"Your step-daughter is coming in now.  Ask her where she has been,
+if she has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return
+this evening, in case she answers that she has seen them."
+
+"Very well, little domovoi doukh.  The orderlies left without my
+seeing when they went."
+
+"Ab," interrupted Rouletabille, "before she arrives, give me all
+her hat-pins."
+
+"What!"
+
+"I say, all her hat-pins.  Quickly!"
+
+Matrena ran to Natacha's chamber and returned with three enormous
+hat-pins with beautifully-cut stones in them.
+
+"These are all?"
+
+
+"They are all I have found.  I know she has two others.  She has
+one on her head, or two, perhaps; I can't find them."
+
+"Take these back where you found them," said the reporter, after
+glancing at them.
+
+Matrena returned immediately, not understanding what he was doing.
+
+"And now, your hat-pins.  Yes, your hat-pins."
+
+"Oh, I have only two, and here they are," said she, drawing them
+from the toque she had been wearing and had thrown on the sofa when
+she re-entered the house.
+
+Rouletabille gave hers the same inspection.
+
+"Thanks.  Here is your step-daughter."
+
+Natacha entered, flushed and smiling.
+
+"Ah, well," said she, quite breathless, "you may boast that I had
+to search for you.  I made the entire round, clear past the Barque.
+Has the promenade done papa good?"
+
+"Yes, he is asleep," replied Matrena.  "Have you met Boris and
+Michael?"
+
+She appeared to hesitate a second, then replied:
+
+"Yes, for an instant."
+
+"Did they say whether they would return this evening?"
+
+"No," she replied, slightly troubled.  "Why all these questions?
+
+She flushed still more.
+
+"Because I thought it strange," parried Matrena, "that they went
+away as they did, without saying goodby, without a word, without
+inquiring if the general needed them.  There is something stranger
+yet.  Did you see Kaltsof with them, the grand-marshal of the court?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Kaltsof came for a moment, entered the garden and went away again
+without seeing us, without saying even a word to the general."
+
+"Ab," said Natacha.
+
+With apparent indifference, she raised her arms and drew out her
+hat-pins.  Rouletabille watched the pin without a word.  The young
+girl hardly seemed aware of their presence.  Entirely absorbed in
+strange thoughts, she replaced the pin in her hat and went to hang
+it in the veranda, which served also as vestibule.  Rouletabille
+never quitted her eyes.  Matrena watched the reporter with a stupid
+glance.  Natacha crossed the drawing-room and entered her chamber
+by passing through her little sitting-room, through which all
+entrance to her chamber had to be made.  That little room, though,
+had three doors.  One opened into Natacha's chamber, one into the
+drawing-room, and the third into the little passage in a corner of
+the house where was the stairway by which the servants passed from
+the kitchens to the ground-floor and the upper floor.  This passage
+had also a door giving directly upon the drawing-room.  It was
+certainly a poor arrangement for serving the dining-room, which was
+on the other side of the drawing-room and behind the veranda, such
+a chance laying-out of a house as one often sees in the off-hand
+planning of many places in the country.
+
+Alone again with Rouletabille, Matrena noticed that he had not lost
+sight of the corner of the veranda where Natacha had hung her hat.
+Beside this hat there was a toque that Ermolai had brought in.  The
+old servant had found it in some corner of the garden or the
+conservatory where he had been.  A hat-pin stuck out of that toque
+also.
+
+"Whose toque is that?" asked Rouletabille.  "I haven't seen it on
+the head of anyone here."
+
+"It is Natacha's," replied Matrena.
+
+She moved toward it, but the young man held her back, went into the
+veranda himself, and, without touching it, standing on tiptoe, he
+examined the pin.  He sank back on his heels and turned toward
+Matrena.  She caught a glimpse of fleeting emotion on the face of
+her little friend.
+
+"Explain to me," she said.
+
+But be gave her a glance that frightened her, and said low:
+
+"Go and give orders right away that dinner be served in the veranda.
+All through dinner it is absolutely necessary that the door of
+Natacha's sitting-room, and that of the stairway passage, and that
+of the veranda giving on the drawing-room remain open all the time.
+Do you understand me?   As soon as you have given your orders go to
+the general's chamber and do not quit the general's bedside, keep
+it in view.  Come down to dinner when it is announced, and do not
+bother yourself about anything further."
+
+So saying, he filled his pipe, lighted it with a sort of sigh of
+relief, and, after a final order to Matrena, " Go," he went into
+the garden, puffing great clouds.  Anyone would have said he hadn't
+smoked in a week.  He appeared not to be thinking but just idly
+enjoying himself.  In fact, he played like a child with Milinki,
+Matrena's pet cat, which he pursued behind the shrubs, up into the
+little kiosque which, raised on piles, lifted its steep thatched
+roof above the panorama of the isles that Rouletabille settled down
+to contemplate like an artist with ample leisure.
+
+The dinner, where Matrena, Natacha and Rouletabille were together
+again, was lively.  The young man having declared that he was more
+and more convinced that the mystery of the bomb in the bouquet was
+simply a play of the police, Natacha reinforced his opinion, and
+following that they found themselves in agreement on about
+everything else.  For himself, the reporter during that conversation
+hid a real horror which had seized him at the cynical and
+inappropriate tranquillity with which the young lady received all
+suggestions that accused the police or that assumed the general no
+longer ran any immediate danger.  In short, he worked, or at least
+believed he worked, to clear Natacha as he had cleared Matrena, so
+that there would develop the absolute necessity of assuming a third
+person's intervention in the facts disclosed so clearly by Koupriane
+where Matrena or Natacha seemed alone to be possible agents.  As he
+listened to Natacha Rouletabille commenced to doubt and quake just
+as he had seen Matrena do.  The more he looked into the nature of
+Natacha the dizzier he grew.  What abysmal obscurities were there
+in her nature!
+
+Nothing interesting happened during dinner.  Several times, in
+spite of Rouletabille's obvious impatience with her for doing it,
+Matrena went up to the general.  She returned saying, "He is quiet.
+He doesn't sleep.  He doesn't wish anything.  He has asked me to
+prepare his narcotic.  It is too bad.  He has tried in vain, he
+cannot get along without it."
+
+"You, too, mamma, ought to take something to make you sleep.  They
+say morphine is very good."
+
+"As for me," said Rouletabille, whose head for some few minutes
+had been dropping now toward one shoulder and now toward another,
+"I have no need of any narcotic to make me sleep.  If you will
+permit me, I will get to bed at once."
+
+"Eh, my little domovoi doukh, I am going to carry you there in my
+arms."
+
+Matrena extended her large round arms ready to take Rouletabille
+as though he had been a baby.
+
+"No, no.  I will get up there all right alone," said Rouletabille,
+rising stupidly and appearing ashamed of his excessive sleepiness.
+
+"Oh, well, let us both accompany him to his chamber," said Natacha,
+"and I will wish papa good-night.  I'm eager for bed myself.  We will
+all make a good night of it.  Ermolai and Gniagnia will watch with
+the schwitzar in the lodge.  Things are reasonably arranged now."
+
+They all ascended the stairs.  Rouletabille did not even go to see
+the general, but threw himself on his bed.  Natacha got onto the
+bed beside her father, embraced him a dozen times, and went
+downstairs again.  Matrena followed behind her, closed doors and
+windows, went upstairs again to close the door of the landing-place
+and found Rouletabille seated on his bed, his arms crossed, not
+appearing to have any desire for sleep at all.  His face was so
+strangely pensive also that the anxiety of Matrena, who had been
+able to make nothing out of his acts and looks all day, came back
+upon her instantly in greater force than ever.  She touched his arm
+in order to be sure that he knew she was there.
+
+"My little friend," she said, "will you tell me now?"
+
+"Yes, madame," he replied at once.  "Sit in that chair and listen
+to me.  There are things you must know at once, because we have
+reached a dangerous hour."
+
+"The hat-pins first.  The hat-pins!"
+
+Rouletabille rose lightly from the bed and, facing her, but watching
+something besides her, said:
+
+"It is necessary you should know that someone almost immediately
+is going to renew the attempt of the bouquet."
+
+Matrena sprang to her feet as quickly as though she had been told
+there was a bomb in the seat of her chair.  She made herself sit
+down again, however, in obedience to Rouletabile's urgent look
+commanding absolute quiet.
+
+"Renew the attempt of the bouquet!" she murmured in a stifled voice.
+"But there is not a flower in the general's chamber."
+
+"Be calm, madame.  Understand me and answer me: You heard the
+tick-tack from the bouquet while you were in your own chamber?"
+
+"Yes, with the doors open, natural1y."
+
+"You told me the persons who came to say good-night to the general.
+At that time there was no noise of tick-tack?"
+
+"No, no."
+
+"Do you think that if there had been any tick-tack then you would
+have heard it, with all those persons talking in the room?"
+
+"I hear everything.  I hear everything."
+
+"Did you go downstairs at the same time those people did?"
+
+"No, no; I remained near the general for some time, until he was
+sound asleep."
+
+"And you heard nothing?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"You closed the doors behind those persons?" 
+
+"Yes, the door to the great staircase.  The door of the servants'
+stairway was condemned a long time ago; it has been locked by me,
+I alone have the key and on the inside of the door opening into the
+general's chamber there is also a bolt which is always shot.  All
+the other doors of the chambers have been condemned by me.  In order
+to enter any of the four rooms on this floor it is necessary now to
+pass by the door of my chamber, which gives on the main staircase."
+
+"Perfect.  Then, no one has been able to enter the apartment.  No
+one had been in the apartment for at least two hours excepting you
+and the general, when you heard the clockwork.  From that the only
+conclusion is that only the general and you could have started it
+going."
+
+"What are you trying to say?" Matrena demanded, astounded.
+
+"I wish to prove to you by this absurd conclusion, madame, that it
+is necessary never - never, you understand?  Never - to reason
+solely upon even the most evident external evidence when those
+seemingly-conclusive appearances are in conflict with certain moral
+truths that also are clear as the light of day.  The light of day
+for me, madame, is that the general does not desire to commit
+suicide and, above all, that he would not choose the strange method
+of suicide by clockwork.  The light of day for me is that you adore
+your husband and that you are ready to sacrifice your life for his."
+
+"Now! exclaimed Matrena, whose tears, always ready in emotional
+moments, flowed freely.  "But, Holy Mary, why do you speak to me
+without looking at me?  What is it?  What is it?"
+
+"Don't turn!  Don't make a movement!  You hear - not a move!  And
+speak low, very low.  And don't cry, for the love of God!"
+
+"But you say at once ... the bouquet!  Come to the general's room!"
+
+"Not a move.  And continue listening to me without interrupting,"
+said he, still inclining his ear, and still without looking at her.
+"It is because these things were as the light of day to me that I
+say to myself, 'It is impossible that it should be impossible for
+a third person not to have placed the bomb in the bouquet.  Someone
+is able to enter the general's chamber even when the general is
+watching and all the doors are locked."
+
+"Oh, no.  No one could possibly enter.  I swear it to you."
+
+As she swore it a little too loudly, Rouletabille seized her arm
+so that she almost cried out, but she understood instantly that it
+was to keep her quiet.
+
+"I tell you not to interrupt me, once for all."
+
+"But, then, tell me what you are looking at like that."
+
+"I am watching the corner where someone is going to enter the
+general's chamber when everything is locked, madame.  Do not move!"
+
+Matrena, her teeth chattering, recalled that when she entered
+Rouletabille's chamber she had found all the doors open that
+communicated with the chain of rooms: the young man's chamber with
+hers, the dressing-room and the general's chamber.  She tried, under
+Rouletabille's look, to keep calm, but in spite of all the reporter's
+exhortations she could not hold her tongue.
+
+"But which way?  Where will they enter?"
+
+"By the door."
+
+"Which door?"
+
+"That of the chamber giving on the servants' stair-way."
+
+"Why, how?  The key! The bolt!"
+
+"They have made a key."
+
+"But the bolt is drawn this side."
+
+"They will draw it back from the other side."
+
+"What!  That is impossible."
+
+Rouletabille laid his two hands on Matrena's strong shoulders and
+repeated, detaching each syllable, "They will draw it back from the
+other side."
+
+"It is impossible.  I repeat it."
+
+"Madame, your Nihilists haven't invented anything.  Iit is a trick
+much in vogue with sneak thieves in hotels.  All it needs is a
+little hole the size of a pin bored in the panel of the door above
+the bolt."
+
+"God!" quavered Matrena.  "I don't understand what you mean by your
+little hole.  Explain to me, little domovoi."
+
+"Follow me carefully, then," continued Rouletabille, his eyes all
+the time fixed elsewhere.  "The person who wishes to enter sticks
+through the hole a brass wire that he has already given the necessary
+curve to and which is fitted on its end with a light point of steel
+curved inward.  With such an instrument it is child's play, if the
+hole has been made where it ought to be, to touch the bolt on the
+inside from the outside, pick the knob on it, withdraw it, and open
+the door if the bolt is like this one, a small door-bolt."
+
+"Oh, oh, oh," moaned Matrena, who paled visibly.  "And that hole?"
+
+"It exists."
+
+"You have discovered it?"
+
+"Yes, the first hour I was here."
+
+"Oh, domovoi! But how did you do that when you never entered the
+general's chamber until to-night?"
+
+"Doubtless, but I went up that servants' staircase much earlier
+than that.  And I will tell you why.  When I was brought into the
+villa the first time, and you watched me, bidden behind the door,
+do you know what I was watching myself, while I appeared to be
+solely occupied digging out the caviare?  The fresh print of
+boot-nails which left the carpet near the table, where someone had
+spilled beer (the beer was still running down the cloth).  Someone
+had stepped in the beer.  The boot-print was not clearly visible
+excepting there.  But from there it went to the door of the servants'
+stairway and mounted the stairs.  That boot was too fine to be
+mounting a stairway reserved to servants and that Koupriane told
+me had been condemned, and it was that made me notice it in a
+moment; but just then you entered."
+
+"You never told me anything about it.  Of course if I had known
+there was a boot-print..."
+
+"I didn't tell you anything about it because I had my reasons for
+that, and, anyway, the trace dried while I was telling you about
+my journey."
+
+"Ah, why not have told me later?"
+
+"Because I didn't know you yet."
+
+"Subtle devil! You will kill me.  I can no longer...  Let us go
+into the general's chamber.  We will wake him."
+
+"Remain here.  Remain here.  I have not told you anything.  That
+boot-print preoccupied me, and later, when I could get away from the
+dining-room, I was not easy until I had climbed that stairway myself
+and gone to see that door, where I discovered what I have just told
+you and what I am going to tell you now."
+
+"What?  What?  In all you have said there has been nothing about
+the hat-pins."
+
+"We have come to them now."
+
+"And the bouquet attack, which is going to happen again?  Why?  Why?"
+
+"This is it.  When this evening you let me go to the general's
+chamber, I examined the bolt of the door without your suspecting it.
+My opinion was confirmed.  It was that way that the bomb was brought,
+and it is by that way that someone has prepared to return."
+
+"But how?  You are sure the little hole is the way someone came?
+But what makes you think that is how they mean to return?  You know
+well enough that, not having succeeded in the general's chamber,
+they are at work in the dining-room."
+
+"Madame, it is probable, it is certain that they have given up the
+work in the dining-room since they have commenced this very day
+working again in the general's chamber.  Yes, someone returned,
+returned that way, and I was so sure of that, of the forthcoming
+return, that I removed the police in order to be able to study
+everything more at my ease.  Do you understand now my confidence
+and why I have been able to assume so heavy a responsibility?  It
+is because I knew I had only one thing to watch: one little hat-pin.
+It is not difficult, madame, to watch a single little hat-pin."
+
+"A mistake," said Matrena, in a low voice.  "Miserable little
+domovoi who told me nothing, me whom you let go to sleep on my
+mattress, in front of that door that might open any moment."
+
+"No, madame.  For I was behind it!"
+
+"Ah, dear little holy angel!  But what were you thinking of!  That
+door has not been watched this afternoon.  In our absence it could
+have been opened.  If someone has placed a bomb during our absence!"
+
+"That is why I sent you at once in to the dining-room on that search
+that I thought would be fruitless, dear madame.  And that is why I
+hurried upstairs to the bedroom.  I went to the stairway door
+instantly.  I had prepared for proof positive if anyone had pushed
+it open even half a millimeter.  No, no one had touched the door in
+our absence.
+
+"Ah, dear heroic little friend of Jesus!  But listen to me.  Listen
+to me, my angel.  Ah, I don't know where I am or what I say.  My
+brain is no more than a flabby balloon punctured with pins, with
+little holes of hat-pins.  Tell me about the hat-pins.  Right off!
+No, at first, what is it that makes you believe - good God! - that
+someone will return by that door?  How can you see that, all that,
+in a poor little hat-pin?"
+
+"Madame, it is not a single hat-pin hole; there are two of them.
+
+"Two hat-pin holes?"
+
+"Yes, two.  An old one and a new one.  One quite new.  Why this
+second hole?  Because the old one was judged a little too narrow
+and they wished to enlarge it, and in enlarging it they broke off
+the point of a hat-pin in it.  Madame, the point is there yet,
+filling up the little old hole and the piece of metal is very sharp
+and very bright."
+
+now I understand the examination of the hat-pins.  Then it is so
+easy as that to get through a door with a hat-pin?"
+
+"Nothing easier, especially if the panel is of pine.  Sometimes one
+happens to break the point of a pin in the first hole.  Then of
+necessity one makes a second.  In order to commence the second hole,
+the point of the pin being broken, they have used the point of a
+pen-knife, then have finished the hole with the hat-pin.  The second
+hole is still nearer the bolt than the first one.  Don't move like
+that, madame."
+
+"But they are going to come! They are going to come!"
+
+"I believe so."
+
+"But I can't understand how you can remain so quiet with such a
+certainty.  Great heavens! what proof have you that they have not
+been there already?"
+
+"Just an ordinary pin, madame, not a hat-pin this time.  Don't
+confuse the pins.  I will show you in a little while."
+
+"He will drive me distracted with his pins, dear light of my eyes!
+Bounty of Heaven!  God's envoy!  Dear little happiness-bearer!"
+
+In her transport she tried to take him in her trembling arms, but
+he waved her back.  She caught her breath and resumed:
+
+"Did the examination of all the hat-pins tell you anything?"
+
+"Yes.  The fifth hat-pin of Mademoiselle Natacha's, the one in the
+toque out in the veranda, has the tip newly broken off."
+
+"0 misery!" cried Matrena, crumpling in her chair.
+
+Rouletabille raised her.
+
+"What would you have?  I have examined your own hat-pins.  Do you
+think I would have suspected you if I had found one of them broken?
+I would simply have thought that someone had used your property for
+an abominable purpose, that is all."
+
+"Oh, that is true, that is true.  Pardon me.  Mother of Christ, this
+boy crazes me!  He consoles me and he horrifies me.  He makes me
+think of such dreadful things, and then he reassures me.  He does
+what he wishes with me.  What should I become without him?"
+
+And this time she succeeded in taking his head in her two hands and
+kissing him passionately.  Rouletabille pushed her back roughly.
+
+"You keep me from seeing," he said.
+
+She was in tears over his rebuff.  She understood now.  Rouletabille
+during all this conversation had not ceased to watch through the
+open doors of Matrena's room and the dressing-room the farther fatal
+door whose brass bolt shone in the yellow light of the night-lamp.
+
+At last he made her a sign and the reporter, followed by Matrena,
+advanced on tip-toe to the threshold of the general's chamber,
+keeping close to the wall.  Feodor Feodorovitch slept.  They heard
+his heavy breath, but he appeared to be enjoying peaceful sleep.
+The horrors of the night before had fled.  Matrena was perhaps right
+in attributing the nightmares to the narcotic prepared for him each
+night, for the glass from which he drank it when he felt he could
+not sleep was still full and obviously had not been touched.  The
+bed of the general was so placed that whoever occupied it, even if
+they were wide awake, could not see the door giving on the servants'
+stairway.  The little table where the glass and various phials were
+placed and which had borne the dangerous bouquet, was placed near
+the bed, a little back of it, and nearer the door.  Nothing would
+have been easier than for someone who could open the door to
+stretch an arm and place the infernal machine among the wild flowers,
+above all, as could easily be believed, if he had waited for that
+treachery until the heavy breathing of the general told them outside
+that he was fast asleep, and if, looking through the key-hole, he
+had made sure Matrena was occupied in her own chamber.  Rouletabille,
+at the threshold, glided to one side, out of the line of view from
+the hole, and got down on all fours.  He crawled toward the door.
+With his head to the floor he made sure that the little ordinary
+pin which he had placed on guard that evening, stuck in the floor
+against the door, was still erect, having thus additional proof that
+the door had not been moved.  In any other case the pin would have
+lain flat on the floor.  He crept back, rose to his feet, passed
+into the dressing-room and, in a corner, had a rapid conversation
+in a low voice with Matrena.
+
+"You will go," said he, "and take your mattress into the corner of
+the dressing-room where you can still see the door but no one can
+see you by looking through the key-hole.  Do that quite naturally,
+and then go to your rest.  I will pass the night on the mattress,
+and I beg you to believe that I will be more comfortable there than
+on a bed of staircase wood where I spent the night last night,
+behind the door."
+
+"Yes, but you will fall asleep.  I don't wish that."
+
+"What are you thinking, madame?"
+
+"I don't wish it.  I don't wish it.  I don't wish to quit the door
+where the eye is.  And since I'm not able to sleep, let me watch."
+
+He did not insist, and they crouched together on the mattress.
+Rouletabille was squatted like a tailor at work; but Matrena
+remained on all-fours, her jaw out, her eyes fixed, like a
+bulldog ready to spring.  The minutes passed by in profound silence,
+broken only by the irregular breathing and puffing of the general.
+His face stood out pallid and tragic on the pillow; his mouth was
+open and, at times, the lips moved.  There was fear at any moment
+of nightmare or his awakening.  Unconsciously he threw an arm over
+toward the table where the glass of narcotic stood.  Then he lay
+still again and snored lightly.  The night-lamp on the mantelpiece
+caught queer yellow reflections from the corners of the furniture,
+from the gilded frame of a picture on the wall and from the phials
+and glasses on the table.  But in all the chamber Matrena Petrovna
+saw nothing, thought of nothing but the brass bolt which shone there
+on the door.  Tired of being on her knees, she shifted, her chin
+in her hands, her gaze steadily fixed.  As time passed and nothing
+happened she heaved a sigh.  She could not have said whether she
+hoped for or dreaded the coming of that something new which
+Rouletabille had indicated.  Rouletabille felt her shiver with
+anguish and impatience.
+
+As for him, he had not hoped that anything would come to pass until
+toward dawn, the moment, as everyone knows, when deep sleep is most
+apt to vanquish all watchfulness and all insomnia.  And as he waited
+for that moment he had not budged any more than a Chinese ape or the
+dear little porcelain domovoi doukh in the garden.  Of course it
+might be that it was not to happen this night.
+
+Suddenly Matrena's hand fell on Rouletabille's.  His imprisoned
+hers so firmly that she understood she was forbidden to make the
+least movement.  And both, with necks extended, ears erect, watched
+like beasts, like beasts on the scent.
+
+Yes, yes, there had been a slight noise in the lock.  A key turned,
+softly, softly, in the lock, and then - silence; and then another
+little noise, a grinding sound, a slight grating of wire, above,
+then on the bolt; upon the bolt which shone in the subdued glow of
+the night-lamp.  The bolt softly, very softly, slipped slowly.
+
+Then the door was pushed slowly, so slowly.  It opened.
+
+Through the opening the shadow of an arm stretched, an arm which
+held in its fingers something which shone.  Rouletabille felt
+Matrena ready to bound.  He encircled her, he pressed her in his
+arms, he restrained her in silence, and he had a horrible fear
+of hearing her suddenly shout, while the arm stretched out, almost
+touched the pillow on the bed where the general continued to sleep
+a sleep of peace such as he had not known for a long time.
+
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+ARSENATE OF SODA
+
+The mysterious hand held a phial and poured the entire contents
+into the potion.   Then the hand withdrew as it had come, slowly,
+prudently, slyly, and the key turned in the lock and the bolt
+slipped back into place.
+
+Like a wolf, Rouletabille, warning Matrena for a last time not to
+budge, gained the landing-place, bounded towards the stairs, slid
+down the banister right to the veranda, crossed the drawing-room
+like a flash, and reached the little sitting-room without having
+jostled a single piece of furniture.  He noticed nothing, saw
+nothing.  All around was undisturbed and silent.
+
+The first light of dawn filtered through the blinds.  He was able
+to make out that the only closed door was the one to Natacha's
+chamber.  He stopped before that door, his heart beating, and
+listened.  But no sound came to his ear.  He had glided so lightly
+over the carpet that he was sure he had not been heard.  Perhaps
+that door would open.  He waited.  In vain.  It seemed to him there
+was nothing alive in that house except his heart.  He was stifled
+with the horror that he glimpsed, that he almost touched, although 
+that door remained closed.  He felt along the wall in order to
+reach the window, and pulled aside the curtain.  Window and blinds
+of the little room giving on the Neva were closed.  The bar of iron
+inside was in its place.  Then he went to the passage, mounted and
+descended the narrow servants' stairway, looked all about, in all
+the rooms, feeling everywhere with silent hands, assuring himself
+that no lock had been tampered with.  On his return to the veranda,
+as he raised his head, he saw at the top of the main staircase a
+figure wan as death, a spectral apparition amid the shadows of the
+passing night, who leaned toward him.  It was Matrena Petrovna.
+She came down, silent as a phantoms and he no longer recognized her
+voice when she demanded of him, "Where?  I require that you tell me.
+Where?"
+
+"I have looked everywhere," he said, so low that Matrena had to
+come nearer to understand his whisper.  "Everything is shut tight.
+And there is no one about."
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille with all the power of her eyes, as
+though she would discover his inmost thoughts, but his clear glance
+did not waver, and she saw there was nothing he wished to hide.
+Then Matrena pointed her finger at Natacha's chamber.
+
+"You have not gone in there?" she inquired.
+
+He replied, "It is not necessary to enter there."
+
+"I will enter there, myself, nevertheless," said she, and she set
+her teeth.
+
+He barred her way with his arms spread out.
+
+"If you hold the life of someone dear," said he, "don't go a step
+farther."
+
+"But the person is in that chamber.  The person is there!  It is
+there you will find out!"  And she waved him aside with a gesture
+as though she were sleepwalking.
+
+To recall her to the reality of what he had said to her and to make
+her understand what he desired, he had to grip her wrist in the
+vice of his nervous hand.
+
+"The person is not there, perfhaps," he said  his head.
+"Understand me now."
+
+But she did not understand him.  She said:
+
+"Since the person is nowhere else, the person must be there."
+
+But Rouletabille continued obstinately:
+
+"No, no.  Perhaps he is gone."
+
+"Gone!  And everything locked on the inside!"
+
+"That is not a reason," he replied.
+
+But she could not follow his thoughts any further.  She wished
+absolutely to make her way into Natacha's chamber.  The obsession
+of that was upon her.
+
+"If you enter there," said he, "and if (as is most probable) you
+don't find what you seek there, all is lost!  And as to me, I give
+up the whole thing."
+
+She sank in a heap onto a chair.
+
+"Don't despair," he murmured.  "We don't know for sure yet."
+
+She shook her poor old head dejectedly.
+
+"We know that only she is here, since no one has been able to enter
+and since no one has been able to leave."
+
+That, in truth, filled her brain, prevented her from discerning in
+any corner of her mind the thought of Rouletabille.  Then the
+impossible dialogue resumed.
+
+"I repeat that we do not know but that the person has gone," repeated
+the reporter, and demanded her keys.
+
+"Foolish," she said.  "What do you want them for?"
+
+"To search outside as we have searched inside."
+
+"Why, everything is locked on the inside!"
+
+"Madame, once more, that is no reason that the person may not be
+outside."
+
+He consumed five minutes opening the door of the veranda, so many
+were his precautions.  She watched him impatiently.
+
+He whispered to her:
+
+"I am going out, but don't you lose sight of the little sitting-room.
+At the least movement call me; fire a revolver if you need to."
+
+He slipped into the garden with the same precautions for silence.
+>From the corner that she kept to, through the doors left open,
+Matrena could follow all the movements of the reporter and watch
+Natacha's chamber at the same time.  The attitude of Rouletabille
+continued to confuse her beyond all expression.  She watched what
+he did as if she thought him besotted.  The dyernick on guard out
+in the roadway also watched the young man through the bars of the
+gate in consternation, as though he thought him a fool.  Along the
+paths of beaten earth or cement which offered no chance for
+footprints Rouletabille hurried silently.  Around him he noted that
+the grass of the lawn had not been trodden.  And then he paid no
+more attention to his steps.  He seemed to study attentively the
+rosy color in the east, breathing the delicacy of dawning morning
+in the Isles, amid the silence of the earth, which still slumbered.
+
+Bare-headed, face thrown back, hands behind his back, eyes raised
+and fixed, he made a few steps, then suddenly stopped as if he had
+been given an electric shock.  As soon as he seemed to have
+recovered from that shock he turned around and went a few steps
+back to another path, into which he advanced, straight ahead, his
+face high, with the same fixed look that he had had up to the time
+he so suddenly stopped, as if something or someone advised or warned
+him not to go further.  He continually worked back toward the house,
+and thus he traversed all the paths that led from the villa, but in
+all these excursions he took pains not to place himself in the field
+of vision from Natacha's window, a restricted field because of its
+location just around an abutment of the building.  To ascertain
+about this window he crept on all-fours up to the garden-edge that
+ran along the foot of the wall and had sufficient proof that no one
+had jumped out that way.  Then he went to rejoin Matrena in the
+veranda.
+
+" No one has come into the garden this morning," said he, "and no
+one has gone out of the villa into the garden.  Now I am going to
+look outside the grounds.  Wait here; I'll be back in five minutes."
+
+He went away, knocked discreetly on the window of the lodge and
+waited some seconds.  Ermolai came out and opened the gate for him.
+Matrena moved to the threshold of the little sitting-room and
+watched Natacha's door with horror.  She felt her legs give under
+her, she could not stand up under the diabolic thought of such a
+crime.  Ah, that arm, that arm! reaching out, making its way, with
+a little shining phial in its hand.  Pains of Christ!  What could
+there be in the damnable books over which Natacha and her companions
+pored that could make such abominable crimes possible?  Ah, Natacha,
+Natacha! it was from her that she would have desired the answer,
+straining her almost to stifling on her rough bosom and strangling
+her with her own strong hand that she might not hear the response.
+Ah, Natacha, Natacha, whom she had loved so much!  She sank to the
+floor, crept across the carpet to the door, and lay there, stretched
+like a beast, and buried her bead in her arms while she wept over
+her daughter.  Natacha, Natacha, whom she had cherished as her own
+child, and who did not hear her.  Ah, what use that the little
+fellow had gone to search outside when the whole truth lay behind
+this door?  Thinking of him, she was embarrassed lest he should
+find her in that animalistic posture, and she rose to her knees and
+worked her way over to the window that looked out upon the Neva.
+The angle of the slanting blinds let her see well enough what
+passed.  outside, and what she saw made her spring to her feet.
+Below her the reporter was going through the same incomprehensible
+maneuvers that she had seen him do in the garden.  Three pathways
+led to the little road that ran along the wall of the villa by the
+bank of the Neva.  The young man, still with his hands behind his
+back and with his face up, took them one after the other.  In the
+first he stopped at the first step.  He didn't take more than two
+steps in the second.  In the third, which cut obliquely toward the
+right and seemed to run to the bank nearest Krestowsky Ostrow, she
+saw him advance slowly at first, then more quickly among the small
+trees and hedges.  Once only he stopped and looked closely at the
+trunk of a tree against which he seemed to pick out something
+invisible, and then he continued to the bank.  There he sat down
+on a stone and appeared to reflect, and then suddenly he cast off
+his jacket and trousers, picked out a certain place on the bank
+across from him, finished undressing and plunged into the stream.
+She saw at once that he swam like a porpoise, keeping beneath and
+showing his head from time to time, breathing, then diving below
+the surface again.  He reached Krestowsky Ostrow in a clump of reeds.
+Then he disappeared.  Below him, surrounded by trees, could be seen
+the red tiles of the villa which sheltered Boris and Michael.  From
+that villa a person could see the window of the sitting-room in
+General Trebassof's residence, but not what might occur along the
+bank of the river just below its walls.  An isvotchick drove along
+the distant route of Krestowsky, conveying in his carriage a company
+of young officers and young women who had been feasting and who sang
+as they rode; then deep silence ensued.  Matrena's eyes searched for
+Rouletabille, but could not find him.  How long was he going to stay
+hidden like that?  She pressed her face against the chill window.
+What was she waiting for?  She waited perhaps for someone to make a
+move on this side, for the door near her to open and the traitorous
+figure of The Other to appear.
+
+A hand touched her carefully.  She turned.
+
+Rouletabille was there, his face all scarred by red scratches,
+without collar or neck-tie, having hastily resumed his clothes.  He
+appeared furious as he surprised her in his disarray.  She let him
+lead her as though she were a child.  He drew her to his room and
+closed the door.
+
+"Madame," he commenced, "it is impossible to work with you.  Why
+in the world have you wept not two feet from your step-daughter's
+door?  You and your Koupriane, you commence to make me regret the
+Faubourg Poissoniere, you know.  Your step-daughter has certainly
+heard you.  It is lucky that she attaches no importance at all to
+your nocturnal phantasmagorias, and that she has been used to them
+a long time.  She has more sense than you, Mademoiselle Natacha has.
+She sleeps, or at least she pretends to sleep, which leaves
+everybody in peace.  What reply will you give her if it happens
+that she asks you the reason to-day for your marching and
+counter-marching up and down the sitting-room and complains that
+you kept her from sleeping?"
+
+Matrena only shook her old, old head.
+
+"No, no, she has not heard me.  I was there like a shadow, like a
+shadow of myself.  She will never hear me.  No one hears a shadow."
+
+Rouletabille felt returning pity for her and spoke more gently.
+
+"In any case, it is necessary, you must understand, that she
+should attach no more importance to what you have done to-night
+than to the things she knows of your doing other nights.  It is not
+the first time, is it, that you have wandered in the sitting-room?
+You understand me?  And to-morrow, madame, embrace her as you
+always have."
+
+"No, not that," she moaned.  "Never that.  I could not."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Matrena did not reply.  She wept.  He took her in his arms like a
+child consoling its mother.
+
+"Don't cry.  Don't cry.  All is not lost.  Someone did leave the
+villa this morning."
+
+"Oh, little domovoi! How is that?  How is that?  How did you find
+that out?"
+
+"Since we didn't find anything inside, it was certainly necessary to
+find something outside."
+
+"And you have found it?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"The Virgin protect you!"
+
+"SHE is with us.  She will not desert us.  I will even say that I
+believe she has a special guardianship over the Isles.  She watches
+over them from evening to morning."
+
+"What are you saying?"
+
+"Certainly.  You don't know what we call in France 'the watchers of
+the Virgin'?"
+
+"Oh, yes, they are the webs that the dear little beasts of the good
+God spin between the trees and that..."
+
+"Exactly.  You understand me and you will understand further when
+you know that in the garden the first thing that struck me across
+the face as I went into it was these watchers of the Virgin spun by
+the dear little spiders of the good God.  At first when I felt them
+on my face I said to myself, 'Hold on, no one has passed this way,'
+and so I went to search other places.  The webs stopped me
+everywhere in the garden.  But, outside the garden, they kept out
+of the way and let me pass undisturbed down a pathway which led to
+the Neva.  So then I said to myself, 'Now, has the Virgin by accident
+overlooked her work in this pathway?  Surely not.  Someone has
+ruined it.'  I found the shreds of them hanging to the bushes, and
+so I reached the river."
+
+"And you threw yourself into the river, my dear angel.  You swim
+like a little god."
+
+"And I landed where the other landed.  Yes, there were the reeds all
+freshly broken.  And I slipped in among the bushes."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"Up to the Villa Krestowsky, madame - where they both live."
+
+"Ah, it was from there someone came?"
+
+There was a silence between them.
+
+She questioned:
+
+"Boris?"
+
+"Someone who came from the villa and who returned there.  Boris or
+Michael, or another.  They went and returned through the reeds.
+But in coming they used a boat; they returned by swimming."
+
+Her customary agitation reasserted itself.
+
+She demanded ardently:
+
+"And you are sure that he came here and that he left here?"
+
+"Yes, I am sure of it."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By the sitting-room window."
+
+"It is impossible, for we found it locked."
+
+"It is possible, if someone closed it behind him."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+She commenced to tremble again, and, falling back into her
+nightmarish horror, she no longer wasted fond expletives on her
+domovoi as on a dear little angel who had just rendered a service
+ten times more precious to her than life.  While he listened
+patiently, she said brutally:
+
+"Why did you keep me from throwing myself on him, from rushing upon
+him as he opened the door?  Ah, I would have, I would have ... we
+would know."
+
+"No.  At the least noise he would have closed the door.  A turn of
+the key and he would have escaped forever.  And he would have been
+warned."
+
+"Careless boy!  Why then, if you knew he was going to come, didn't
+you leave me in the bedroom and you watch below yourself?"
+
+"Because so long as I was below he would not have come.  He only
+comes when there is no one downstairs."
+
+"Ah, Saints Peter and Paul pity a poor woman.  Who do you think it
+is, then?  Who do you think it is?  I can't think any more.  Tell
+me, tell me that.  You ought to know - you know everything.  Come
+- who?  I demand the truth.  Who?  Still some agent of the Committee,
+of the Central Committee?  Still the Nihilists?"
+
+"If it was only that!" said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+"You have sworn to drive me mad!  What do you mean by your 'if it
+was only that'?"
+
+Rouletabille, imperturbable, did not reply.
+
+"What have you done with the potion?" said he.
+
+"The potion?  The glass of the crime! I have locked it in my room,
+in the cupboard - safe, safe!"
+
+"Ah, but, madame, it is necessary to replace it where you took
+it from."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, after having poured the poison into a phial, to wash the glass
+and fill it with another potion."
+
+"You are right.  You think of everything.  If the general wakes and
+wants his potion, he must not be suspicious of anything, and he must
+be able to have his drink."
+
+"It is not necessary that he should drink."
+
+"Well, then, why have the drink there?"
+
+"So that the person can be sure, madame, that if he has not drunk
+it is simply because he has not wished to.  A pure chance, madame,
+that he is not poisoned.  You understand me this time?"
+
+"Yes, yes.  0 Christ! But how now, if the general wakes and wishes
+to drink his narcotic?"
+
+"Tell him I forbid it.  And here is another thing you must do.
+When - Someone - comes into the general's chamber, in the morning,
+you must quite openly and naturally throw out the potion, useless
+and vapid, you see, and so Someone will have no right to be
+astonished that the general continues to enjoy excellent health."
+
+"Yes, yes, little one; you are wiser than King Solomon.  And what
+will I do with the phial of poison?"
+
+"Bring it to me."
+
+"Right away."
+
+She went for it and returned five minutes later.
+
+"He is still asleep.  I have put the glass on the table, out of his
+reach.  He will have to call me."
+
+"Very good.  Then push the door to, close it; we have to talk
+things over." 
+
+"But if someone goes back up the servants' staircase?"
+
+"Be easy about that.  They think the general is poisoned already.
+It is the first care-free moment I have been able to enjoy in this
+house."
+
+"When will you stop making me shake with horror, little demon!  You
+keep your secret well, I must say.  The general is sleeping better
+than if he really were poisoned.  But what shall we do about Natacha?
+I dare ask you that - you and you alone."
+
+"Nothing at all."
+
+"How - nothing?"
+
+"We will watch her..."
+
+" Ah, yes, yes."
+
+"Still, Matrena, you let me watch her by myself."
+
+"Yes, yes, I promise you.  I will not pay any attention to her.
+That is promised.  That is promised.  Do as you please.  Why, just
+now, when I spoke of the Nihilists to you, did you say, 'If it were
+only that!'?  You believe, then, that she is not a Nihilist?  She
+reads such things - things like on the barricades..."
+
+"Madame, madame, you think of nothing but Natacha.  You have
+promised me not to watch her; promise me not to think about her."
+
+"Why, why did you say, 'If it was only that!'?"
+
+"Because, if there were only Nihilists in your affair, dear madame,
+it would be too simple, or, rather, it would have been more simple.
+Can you possibly believe, madame, that simply a Nihilist, a Nihilist
+who was only a Nihilist, would take pains that his bomb exploded
+from a vase of flowers?  - that it would have mattered where, so
+long as it overwhelmed the general?  Do you imagine that the bomb
+would have had less effect behind the door than in front of it?  And
+the little cavity under the floor, do you believe that a genuine
+revolutionary, such as you have here in Russia, would amuse himself
+by penetrating to the villa only to draw out two nails from a board,
+when one happens to give him time between two visits to the
+dining-room?  Do you suppose that a revolutionary who wished to
+avenge the dead of Moscow and who could succeed in getting so far
+as the door behind which General Trebassof slept would amuse himself
+by making a little hole with a pin in order to draw back the bolt
+and amuse himself by pouring poison into a glass?  Why, in such a
+case, he would have thrown his bomb outright, whether it blew him
+up along with the villa, or he was arrested on the spot, or had to
+submit to the martyrdom of the dungeons in the Fortress of SS. Peter
+and Paul, or be hung at Schlusselburg.  Isn't that what always
+happens?  That is the way he would have done, and not have acted
+like a hotel-rat!  Now, there is someone in your home (or who comes
+to your home) who acts like a hotel-rat because he does not wish to
+be seen, because he does not wish to be discovered, because he does
+not wish to be taken in the act.  Now, the moment that he fears
+nothing so much as to be taken in the act, so that he plays all
+these tricks of legerdemain, it is certain that his object lies
+beyond the act itself, beyond the bomb, beyond the poison.  Why all
+this necessity for bombs of deferred explosion, for clockwork placed
+where it will be confused with other things, and not on a bare
+staircase forbidden to everbody, though you visit it twenty times
+a day?"
+
+"But this man comes in as he pleases by day and by night?  You don't
+answer.  You know who he is, perhaps?"
+
+"I know him, perhaps, but I am not sure who it is yet."
+
+"You are not curious, little domovoi doukh!  A friend of the house,
+certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because
+someone opens the window for him.  And who comes from the Krestowsky
+Villa!  Boris or Michael!  Ah, poor miserable Matrena!  Why don't
+they kill poor Matrena?  Their general!  Their general!  And they
+are soldiers - soldiers who come at night to kill their general.
+Aided by - by whom?  Do you believe that?  You?  Light of my eyes!
+you believe that!  No, no, that is not possible!  I want you to
+understand, monsieur le domovoi, that I am not able to believe
+anything so horrible.  No, no, by Jesus Christ Who died on the
+Cross, and Who searches our hearts, I do not believe that Boris
+- who, however, has very advanced ideas, I admit - it is necessary
+not to forget that; very advanced; and who composes very advanced
+verses also, as I have always told him - I will not believe that
+Boris is capable of such a fearful crime.  As to Michael, he is an
+honest man, and my daughter, my Natacha, is an honest girl.
+Everything looks very bad, truly, but I do not suspect either Michael
+or Boris or my pure and beloved Natacha (even though she has made
+a translation into French of very advanced verses, certainly most
+improper for the daughter of a general).  That is what lies at the
+bottom of my mind, the bottom of my heart - you have understood me
+perfectly, little angel of paradise?  Ah, it is you the general owes
+his life to, that Matrena owes her life.  Without you this house
+would already be a coffin.  How shall I ever reward you?  You wish
+for nothing!  I annoy you!  You don't even listen to me!  A coffin
+- we would all be in our coffins!  Tell me what you desire.  All
+that I have belongs to you!"
+
+"I desire to smoke a pipe.
+
+"Ah, a pipe!  Do you want some yellow perfumed tobacco that I
+receive every month from Constantinople, a treat right from the
+harem?  I will get enough for you, if you like it, to smoke ten
+thousand pipes full."
+
+"I prefer caporal," replied Rouletabille.  "But you are right.  It
+is not wise to suspect anybody.  See, watch, wait.  There is always
+time, once the game is caught, to say whether it is a hare or a
+wild boar.  Listen to me, then, my good mamma.  We must know first
+what is in the phial.  Where is it?"
+
+" Here it is."
+
+She drew it from her sleeve.  He stowed it in his pocket.
+
+"You wish the general a good appetite, for me.  I am going out.
+I will be back in two hours at the latest.  And, above all, don't
+let the general know anything.  I am going to see one of my friends
+who lives in the Aptiekarski pereolek."*
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+* The little street of the apothecaries.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Depend on me, and get back quickly for love of me.  My blood clogs
+in my heart when you are not here, dear servant of God."
+
+She mounted to the general's room and came down at least ten times
+to see if Rouletabille had not returned.  Two hours later he was
+around the villa,, as he had promised.  She could not keep herself
+from running to meet him, for which she was scolded.
+
+"Be calm.  Be calm.  Do you know what was in the phial?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Arsenate of soda, enough to kill ten people."
+
+"Holy Mary!"
+
+"Be quiet.  Go upstairs to the general."
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch was in charming humor.  It was his first good
+night since the death of the youth of Moscow.  He attributed it to
+his not having touched the narcotic and resolved, once more, to
+give up the narcotic, a resolve Rouletabille and Matrena encouraged.
+During the conversation there was a knock at the door of Matrena's
+chamber.  She ran to see who was there, and returned with Natacha,
+who wished to embrace her father.  Her face showed traces of
+fatigue.  Certainly she had not passed as good a night as her
+father, and the general reproached her for looking so downcast.
+
+"It is true.  I had dreadful dreams.  But you, papa, did you sleep
+well?  Did you take your narcotic?"
+
+"No, no, I have not touched a drop of my potion."
+
+"Yes, I see.  Oh, well, that is all right; that is very good.
+Natural sleep must be coming back..."
+
+Matrena, as though hypnotized by Rouletabille, had taken the glass
+from the table and ostentatiously carried it to the dressing-room
+to throw it out, and she delayed there to recover her
+self-possession.
+
+Natacha continued:
+
+"You will see, papa, that you will be able to live just like
+everyone else finally.  The great thing was to clear away the
+police, the atrocious police; wasn't it, Monsieur Rouletabille?"
+
+"I have always said, for myself, that I am entirely of Mademoiselle
+Natacha's mind.  You can be entirely reassured now, and I shall
+leave you feeling reassured.  Yes, I must think of getting my
+interviews done quickly, and departing.  Ah well, I can only say
+what I think.  Run things yourselves and you will not run any
+danger.  Besides, the general gets much better, and soon I shall
+see you all in France, I hope.  I must thank you now for your
+friendly hospitality."
+
+"Ah, but you are not going?  You are not going!"  Matrena had
+already set herself to protest with all the strenuous torrent of
+words in her poor desolated heart, when a glance from the reporter
+cut short her despairing utterances.
+
+"I shall have to remain a week still in the city.  I have engaged a
+chamber at the Hotel de France.  It is necessary.  I have so many
+people to see and to receive.  I will come to make you a little
+visit from time to time."
+
+"You are then quite easy," demanded the general gravely, "at leaving
+me all alone?"
+
+"Entirely easy.  And, besides, I don't leave you all alone.  I leave
+you with Madame Trebassof and Mademoiselle.  I repeat:  All three of
+you stay as I see you now.  No more police, or, in any case, the
+fewest possible."
+
+"He is right, he is right," repeated Natacha again.
+
+At this moment there were fresh knocks at the door of Matrena's
+chamber.  It was Ermolai, who announced that his Excellency the
+Marshal of the Court, Count Keltzof, wished to see the general,
+acting for His Majesty.
+
+"Go and receive the Count, Natacha, and tell him that your father
+will be downstairs in a moment."
+
+Natacha and Rouletabille went down and found the Count in the
+drawing-room.  He was a magnificent specimen, handsome and big as
+one of the Swiss papal guard.  He seemed watchful in all directions
+and all among the furniture, and was quite evidently disquieted.
+He advanced immediately to meet the young lady, inquiring the news.
+
+"It is all good news," replied Natacha.  "Everybody here is splendid.
+The general is quite gay.  But what news have you, monsieur le
+marechal?  You appear preoccupied."
+
+The marshal had pressed Rouletabille's hand.
+
+"And my grapes?" he demanded of Natacha.
+
+"How, your grapes?  What grapes?"
+
+"If you have not touched them, so much the better.  I arrived here
+very anxious.  I brought you yesterday, from Krasnoie-Coelo, some
+of the Emperor's grapes that Feodor Feodorovitch enjoyed so much.
+Now this morning I learned that the eldest son of Doucet, the French
+head-gardener of the Imperial conservatories at Krasnoie, had died
+from eating those grapes, which he had taken from those gathered
+for me to bring here.  Imagine my dismay.  I knew, however, that at
+the general's table, grapes would not be eaten without having been
+washed, but I reproached myself for not having taken the precaution
+of leaving word that Doucet recommend that they be washed thoroughly.
+Still, I don't suppose it would matter.  I couldn't see how my gift
+could be dangerous, but when I learned of little Doucet's death
+this morning, I jumped into the first train and came straight here."
+
+"But, your Excellency," interrupted Natacha, "we have not seen your
+grapes."
+
+"Ah, they have not been served yet?  All the better.  Thank
+goodness!"
+
+"The Emperor's grapes are diseased, then?" interrogated Rouletabille.
+"Phylloxera pest has got into the conservatories?"
+
+"Nothing can stop it, Doucet told me.  So he didn't want me to leave
+last evening until he had washed the grapes.  Unfortunately, I was
+pressed for time and I took them as they were, without any idea that
+the mixture they spray on the grapes to protect them was so deadly.
+It appears that in the vineyard country they have such accidents
+every year.  They call it, I think, the ... the mixture ... "
+
+"The Bordeaux mixture," was heard in Rouletabille's trembling voice
+"And do you know what it is, Your Excellency, this Bordeaux mixture?"
+
+"Why, no."
+
+At this moment the general came down the stairs, clinging to the
+banister and supported by Matrena Petrovna.
+
+"Well," continued Rouletabille, watching Natacha, "the Bordeaux
+mixture which covered the grapes you brought the general yesterday
+was nothing more nor less than arsenate of soda."
+
+"Ah, God!" cried Natacha.
+
+As for Matrena Petrovna, she uttered a low exclamation and let go
+the general, who almost fell down the staircase.  Everybody rushed.
+The general laughed.  Matrena, under the stringent look of
+Rouletabille, stammered that she had suddenly felt faint.  At last
+they were all together in the veranda.  The general settled back on
+his sofa and inquired:
+
+"Well, now, were you just saying something, my dear marshal, about
+some grapes you have brought me?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Natacha, quite frightened, "and what he said
+isn't pleasant at all.  The son of Doucet, the court gardener, has
+just been poisoned by the same grapes that monsieur le marschal,
+it appears, brought you."
+
+"Where was this?  Grapes?  What grapes?  I haven't seen any grapes!"
+exclaimed Matrena.  "I noticed you, yesterday, marshal, out in the
+garden, but you went away almost immediately, and I certainly was
+surprised that you did not come in.  What is this story?"
+
+"Well, we must clear this matter up.  It is absolutely necessary
+that we know what happened to those grapes."
+
+"Certainly," said Rouletabille, "they could cause a catastrophe."
+
+"If it has not happened already," fretted the marshal.
+
+"But how?  Where are they?  Whom did you give them to?"
+
+"I carried them in a white cardboard box, the first one that came
+to hand in Doucet's place.  I came here the first time and didn't
+find you.  I returned again with the box, and the general was just
+lying down.  I was pressed for my train and Michael Nikolaievitch
+and Boris Alexandrovitch were in the garden, so I asked them to
+execute my commission, and I laid the box down near them on the
+little garden table, telling them not to forget to tell you it was
+necessary to wash the grapes as Doucet expressly recommended."
+
+"But it is unbelievable!  It is terrible!" quavered Matrena.  "Where
+can the grapes be?  We must know."
+
+"Absolutely," approved Rouletabille.
+
+"We must ask Boris and Michael," said Natacha.  "Good God! surely
+they have not eaten them!  Perhaps they are sick."
+
+"Here they are," said the general.  All turned.  Michael and Boris
+were coming up the steps.  Rouletabille, who was in a shadowed
+corner under the main staircase, did not lose a single play of
+muscle on the two faces which for him were two problems to solve.
+Both faces were smiling; too smiling, perhaps.
+
+"Michael!  Boris!  Come here," cried Feodor Feodorovitch.  "What
+have you done with the grapes from monsieur le marechal?"
+
+They both looked at him upon this brusque interrogation, seemed not
+to understand, and then, suddenly recalling, they declared very
+naturally that they had left them on the garden table and had not
+thought about them.
+
+"You forgot my caution, then?" said Count Kaltzof severely.
+
+"What caution?" said Boris.  "Oh, yes, the washing of the grapes.
+Doucet's caution."
+
+"Do you know what has happened to Doucet with those grapes?  His
+eldest son is dead, poisoned.  Do you understand now why we are
+anxious to know what has become of my grapes?"
+
+"But they ought to be out there on the table," said Michael.
+
+"No one can find them anywhere," declared Matrena, who, no less than
+Rouletabille, watched every change in the countenances of the two
+officers.  "How did it happen that you went away yesterday evening
+without saying good-bye, without seeing us, without troubling
+yourselves whether or not the general might need you?"
+
+"Madame," said Michael, coldly, in military fashion, as though he
+replied to his superior officer himself, "we have ample excuse to
+offer you and the general.  It is necessary that we make an
+admission, and the general will pardon us, I am sure.  Boris and I,
+daring the promenade, happened to quarrel.  That quarrel was in full
+swing when we reached here and we were discussing the way to end it
+most promptly when monsieur le marechal entered the garden.  We must
+make that our excuse for giving divided attention to what he had to
+say.  As soon as he was gone we had only one thought, to get away
+from here to settle our difference with arms in our hands."
+
+"Without speaking to me about it!" interrupted Trehassof.  "I never
+will pardon that."
+
+"You fight at such a time, when the general is threatened!  It is
+as though you fought between yourselves in the face of the enemy.
+It is treason!" added  Matrena.
+
+"Madame," said Boris, "we did not fight.  Someone pointed out our
+fault, and I offered my excuses to Michael Nikolaievitch, who
+generously accepted them.  Is that not so, Michael Nikolaievitch?"
+
+"And who is this that pointed out your fault?" demanded the marshal.
+
+"Natacha."
+
+"Bravo, Natacha.  Come, embrace me, my daughter."
+
+The general pressed his daughter effusively to his broad chest.
+
+"And I hope you will not have further disputing," he cried, looking
+over Natacha's shoulder.
+
+"We promise you that, General," declared Boris.  "Our lives belong
+to you."
+
+"You did well, my love.  Let us all do as well.  I have passed an
+excellent night, messieurs.  Real sleep!  I have had just one long
+sleep."
+
+"That is so," said Matrena slowly.  "The general had no need of
+narcotic.  He slept like a child and did not touch his potion."
+
+"And my leg is almost well."
+
+"All the same, it is singular that those grapes should have
+disappeared," insisted the marshal, following his fixed idea.
+
+"Ermolai," called Matrena.
+
+The old servant appeared.
+
+"Yesterday evening, after these gentlemen had left the house, did
+you notice a small white box on the garden table?"
+
+"No, Barinia."
+
+"And the servants?  Have any of them been sick?  The dvornicks?
+The schwitzar?  In the kitchens? No one sick?  No?  Go and see; then
+come and tell me."
+
+He returned, saying, "No one sick."
+
+Like the marshal, Matrena Petrovna and Feodor Feodorovitch looked
+at one another, repeating in French, "No one sick! That is strange!"
+
+Rouletabille came forward and gave the only explanation that was
+plausible - for the others.
+
+"But, General, that is not strange at all.  The grapes have been
+stolen and eaten by some domestic, and if the servant has not been
+sick it is simply that the grapes monsieur le marecha1 brought
+escaped the spraying of the Bordeaux mixture.  That is the whole
+mystery."
+
+"The little fellow must be right," cried the delighted marshal.
+
+"He is always right, this little fellow," beamed Matrena, as proudly
+as though she had brought him into the world.
+
+But "the little fellow," taking advantage of the greetings as
+Athanase Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch arrived, left the villa,
+gripping in his pocket the phial which held what is required to make
+grapes flourish or to kill a general who is in excellent health.
+When he had gone a few hundred steps toward the bridges one must
+cross to go into the city, he was overtaken by a panting dvornick,
+who brought him a letter that had just come by courier.  The writing
+on the envelope was entirely unknown to him.  He tore it open and
+read, in excellent French:
+
+"Request to M. Joseph Rouletabille not to mix in matters that do
+not concern him.  The second warning will be the last." It was
+signed: "The Central Revolutionary Committee."
+
+"So, ho!" said Rouletabille, slipping the paper into his pocket,
+"that's the line it takes, is it!  Happily I have nothing more to
+occupy myself with at all.  It is Koupriane's turn now!  Now to go
+to Koupriane's!"
+
+On this date, Rouletabille's note-book: "Natacha to her father:
+'But you, papa, have you had a good night?  Did you take your
+narcotic?'
+
+"Fearful, and (lest I confuse heaven and hell) I have no right to
+take any further notes."*
+_____________________________________________________________________
+*As a matter of fact, after this day no more notes are found in
+Rouletabille's memorandum-book.  The last one is that above, bizarre
+and romantic, and necessary, as Sainclair, the Paris  advocate and
+friend of Rouletabille, indicates opposite it in the  papers from
+which we have taken all the details of this story.
+_____________________________________________________________________
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE LITILE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+
+Rouletabille took a long walk which led him to the Troitsky Bridge,
+then, re-descending the Naberjnaia, he reached the Winter Palace.
+He seemed to have chased away all preoccupation, and took a child's
+pleasure in the different aspects of the life that characterizes
+the city of the Great Peter.  He stopped before the Winter Palace,
+walked slowly across the square where the prodigious monolith of
+the Alexander Column rises from its bronze socket, strolled between
+the palace and the colonnades, passed under an immense arch:
+everything seemed Cyclopean to him, and he never had felt so tiny,
+so insignificant.  None the less he was happy in his insignificance,
+he was satisfied with himself in the presence of these colossal
+things; everything pleased him this morning.  The speed of the
+isvos, the bickering humor of the osvotchicks, the elegance of the
+women, the fine presences of the officers and their easy naturalness
+under their uniforms, so opposed to the wooden posturing of the
+Berlin military men whom he had noticed at the "Tilleuls" and in
+the Friederichstrasse between two trains.  Everything enchanted him
+- the costume even of the moujiks, vivid blouses, the red shirts
+over the trousers, the full legs and the boots up to the knees,
+even the unfortunates who, in spite of the soft atmosphere, were
+muffled up in sheepskin coats, all impressed him favorably,
+everything appeared to him original and congenial.
+
+Order reigned in the city.   The guards were polite, decorative and
+superb in bearing.  The passers-by in that quarter talked gayly
+among themselves, often in French, and had manners as civilized as
+anywhere in the world.  Where, then, was the Bear of the North?  He
+never had seen bears so well licked.  Was it this very city that
+only yesterday was in revolution?   This was certainly the Alexander
+Park where troops a few weeks before had fired on children who had
+sought refuge in the trees, like sparrows.  Was this the very
+pavement where the Cossacks had left so many bodies?  Finally he
+saw before him the Nevsky Prospect, where the bullets rained like
+hail not long since upon a people dressed for festivities and very
+joyous.  Nichevo!  Nichevo!  All that was so soon forgotten.  They
+forgot yesterday as they forget to-morrow.  The Nihilists?  Poets,
+who imagined that a bomb could accomplish anything in that Babylon
+of the North more important than the noise of its explosion!  Look
+at these people who pass.  They have no more thought for the old
+attack than for those now preparing in the shadow of the "tracktirs."
+Happy men, full of serenity in this bright quarter, who move about
+their affairs and their pleasures in the purest air, the lightest,
+the most transparent on earth.  No, no; no one knows the joy of
+mere breathing if he has not breathed the air there, the finest in
+the north of the world, which gives food and drink of beautiful
+white eau-de-vie and yellow pivo, and strikes the blood and makes
+one a beast vigorous and joyful and fatalistic, and mocks at the
+Nihilists and, as well, at the ten thousand eyes of the police
+staring from under the porches of houses, from under the skulls of
+dvornicks - all police, the dvornicks; all police, also the joyous
+concierges with extended hands.  Ah, ah, one mocks at it all in
+such air, provided one has roubles in one's pockets, plenty of
+roubles, and that one is not besotted by reading those extraordinary
+books that preach the happiness of all humanity to students and to
+poor girl-students too.  Ah, ah, seed of the Nihilists, all that!
+These poor little fellows and poor little girls who have their heads
+turned by lectures that they cannot digest!  That is all the trouble,
+the digestion.  The digestion is needed.  Messieurs the commercial
+travelers for champagne, who talk together importantly in the
+lobbies of the Grand Morskaia Hotel and who have studied the Russian
+people even in the most distant cities where champagne is sold, will
+tell you that over any table of hors-d'oeuvres, and will regulate
+the whole question of the Revolution between two little glasses of
+vodka, swallowed properly, quickly, elbow up, at a single draught,
+in the Russian manner.  Simply an affair of digestion, they tell
+you.  Who is the fool that would dare compare a young gentleman who
+has well digested a bottle of champagne or two, and another young
+man who has poorly digested the lucubrations of, who shall we say?
+- the lucubrations of the economists?  The economists?  The
+economists!  Fools who compete which can make the most violent
+statements!  Those who read them and don't understand them go off
+like a bomb!  Your health!  Nichevo!  The world goes round still,
+doesn't it?
+
+Discussion political, economic, revolutionary, and other in the
+room where they munch hors-d'oeuvres!  You will hear it all as you
+pass through the hotel to your chamber, young Rouletabille.  Get
+quickly now to the home of Koupriane, if you don't wish to arrive
+there at luncheon-time; then you would have to put off these serious
+affairs until evening.
+
+The Department of Police.  Massive entrance, heavily guarded, a
+great lobby, halls with swinging doors, many obsequious schwitzars
+on the lookout for tips, many poor creatures sitting against the
+walls on dirty benches, desks and clerks, brilliant boots and
+epaulets of gay young officers who are telling tales of the Aquarium
+with great relish.
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille!   Ah, yes.  Please be seated.  Delighted, 
+M. Koupriane will be very happy to receive you, but just at this
+moment he is at inspection.  Yes, the inspection of the police
+dormitories in the barracks.  We will take you there.  His own idea!
+He doesn't neglect anything, does he?  A great Chief.  Have you seen
+the police-guards' dormitory?  Admirable!  The first dormitories of
+the world.  We say that without wishing to offend France.  We love
+France.  A great nation!  I will take you immediately to M.
+Koupriane.  I shall be delighted."
+
+"I also," said Rouletabille, who put a rouble into the honorable
+functionary's hand.
+
+"Permit me to precede you."
+
+Bows and salutes.  For two roubles he would have walked obsequiously
+before him to the end of the world.
+
+"These functionaries are admirable," thought Rouletabille as he was
+led to the barracks.  He felt he had not paid too much for the
+services of a personage whose uniform was completely covered with
+lace.  They tramped, they climbed, they descended.  Stairways,
+corridors.  Ah, the barracks at last.  He seemed to have entered a
+convent.  Beds very white, very narrow, and images of the Virgin
+and saints everywhere, monastic neatness and the most absolute
+silence.  Suddenly an order sounded in the corridor outside, and
+the police-guard, who sprang from no one could tell where, stood
+to attention at the head of their beds.  Koupriane and his aide
+appeared.  Koupriane looked at everything closely, spoke to each
+man in turn, called them by their names, inquired about their
+needs, and the men stammered replies, not knowing what to answer,
+reddening like children.  Koupriane observed Rouletabille.  He
+dismissed his aide with a gesture.  The inspection was over.  He
+drew the young man into a little room just off the dormitory.
+Rouletabille, frightened, looked about him.  He found himself in a
+chapel.  This little chapel completed the effect of the guards'
+dormitory.  It was all gilded, decorated in marvelous colors,
+thronged with little ikons that bring happiness, and, naturally,
+with the portrait of the Tsar, the dear Little Father.
+
+"You see," said Koupriane, smiling at Rouletabille's amazement,
+"we deny them nothing.  We give them their saints right here in
+their quarters."  Closing the door, he drew a chair toward
+Rouletabille and motioned him to sit down.  They sat before the
+little altar loaded with flowers, with colored paper and winged
+saints.
+
+"We can talk here without being disturbed," he said.  "Yonder there
+is such a crowd of people waiting for me.  I'm ready to listen."
+
+"Monsieur," said Rouletabille, "I have come to give you the report
+of my mission here, and to terminate my connection with it.  All
+that is left for clearing this obscure affair is to arrest the
+guilty person, with which I have nothing to do.  That concerns you.
+I simply inform you that someone tried to poison the general last
+night by pouring arsenate of soda into his sleeping-potion, which
+I bring you in this phial, arsenate which was secured most probably
+by washing it from grapes brought to General Trebassof by the
+marshal of the court, and which disappeared without anyone being
+able to say how."
+
+"Ah, ah, a family affair, a plot within the family.  I told you
+so," murmured Koupriane.
+
+"The affair at least has happened within the family, as you think,
+although the assassin came from outside.  Contrary to what you may
+be able to believe, he does not live in the house."
+
+"Then how does he get there?" demanded Koupriane.
+
+"By the window of the room overlooking the Neva.  He has often come
+that way.  And that is the way he returns also, I am sure.  It is
+there you can take him if you act with prudence."
+
+"How do you know he often comes that way?"
+
+"You know the height of the window above the little roadway.  To
+reach it he uses a water-trough, whose iron rings are bent, and
+also the marks of a grappling-iron that he carries with him and
+uses to hoist himself to the window are distinctly visible on the
+ironwork of the little balcony outside.  The marks are quite
+obviously of different dates"
+
+"But that window is closed."
+
+"Someone opens it for him."
+
+"Who, if you please?"
+
+"I have no desire to know."
+
+"Eh, yes.  It necessarily is Natacha.  I was sure that the Villa
+des Iles had its viper.  I tell you she doesn't dare leave her nest
+because she knows she is watched.  Not one of her movements outside
+escapes us!  She knows it.  She has been warned.  The last time she
+ventured outside alone was to go into the old quarters of Derewnia.
+What has she to do in such a rotten quarter?  I ask you that.  And
+she turned in her tracks without seeing anyone, without knocking
+at a single door, because she saw that she was followed.  She isn't
+able to get to see them outside, therefore she has to see them
+inside."
+
+"They are only one, and always the same one."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"An examination of the marks on the wall and on the pipe doesn't
+leave any doubt of it, and it is always the same grappling-iron
+that is used for the window."
+
+"The viper!"
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, Mademoiselle Natacha seems to preoccupy you
+exceedingly.  I did not come here to talk about Mademoiselle
+Natacha.  I came to point out to you the route used by the man who
+comes to do the murder."
+
+"Eh, yes, it is she who opens the way."
+
+"I can't deny that."
+
+"The little demon!  Why does she take him into her room at night?
+Do you think perhaps there is some love-affair...?"
+
+"I am sure of quite the opposite."
+
+"I too.  Natacha is not a wanton.  Natacha has no heart.  She has
+only a brain.  And it doesn't take long for a brain touched by
+Nihilism to get so it won't hesitate at anything."
+
+Koupriane reflected a minute, while Rouletabille watched him in
+silence.
+
+"Have we solely to do with Nihilism?" resumed Koupriane.
+"Everything you tell me inclines me more and more to my idea: a
+family affair, purely in the family.  You know, don't you, that
+upon the general's death Natacha will be immensely rich?"
+
+"Yes, I know it," replied Rouletabille, in a voice that sounded
+singular to the ear of the Chief of Police and which made him raise
+his head.
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+"I?  Nothing," replied the reporter, this time in a firmer tone.
+"I ought, however, to say this to you: I am sure that we are dealing
+with Nihilism..."
+
+"What makes you believe it?"
+
+"This."
+
+And Rouletabille handed Koupriane the message he had received that
+same morning.
+
+"Oh, oh," cried Koupriane.  "You are under watch!  Look out."
+
+"I have nothing to fear; I'm not bothering myself about anything
+further.  Yes, we have an affair of the revolutionaries, but not of
+the usual kind.  The way they are going about it isn't like one of
+their young men that the Central Committee arms with a bomb and who
+is sacrificed in advance."
+
+"Where are the tracks that you have traced?"
+  
+"Right up to the little Krestowsky Villa."
+
+Koupriane bounded from his chair.
+
+"Occupied by Boris.  Parbleu!  Now we have them.  I see it all now.
+Boris, another cracked brain!  And he is engaged.  If he plays the
+part of the Revolutionaries, the affair would work out big for him."
+
+"That villa," said Rouletabille quietly, "is also occupied by Michael
+Korosakoff."
+
+"He is the most loyal, the most reliable soldier of the Tsar."
+
+"No one is ever sure of anything, my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+"Oh, I am sure of a man like that."
+
+"No man is ever sure of any man, my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+"I am, in every case, for those I employ."
+
+"You are wrong."
+
+"What do you say?"
+
+"Sometbing that can serve you in the enterprise you are going to
+undertake, because I trust you can catch the murderer right in his
+nest.  To do that, I'll not conceal from you that I think your
+agents will have to be enormously clever.  They will have to watch
+the datcha des Iles at night, without anyone possibly suspecting it.
+No more maroon coats with false astrakhan trimmings, eh?  But
+Apaches, Apaches on the wartrail, who blend themselves with the
+ground, with the trees, with the stones in the roadway.  But among
+those Apaches don't send that agent of your Secret Service who
+watched the window while the assassin climbed to it."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Why, these climbs that you can read the proofs of on the wall and
+on the iron forgings of the balcony went on while your agents, night
+and day, were watching the villa.  Have you noticed, monsieur, that
+it was always the same agent who took the post at night, behind the
+villa, under the window?  General Trebassof's book in which he kept
+a statement of the exact disposal of each of your men during the
+period of siege was most instructive on that point.  The other posts
+changed in turn, but the same agent, when he was among the guard,
+demanded always that same post, which was not disputed by anybody,
+since it is no fun to pass the hours of the night behind a wall, in
+an empty field.  The others much preferred to roll away the time
+watching in the villa or in front of the lodge, where vodka and
+Crimean wine, kwass and pivo, kirsch and tchi, never ran short.
+That agent's name is Touman."
+
+"Touman!  Impossible!  He is one of the best agents from Kiew.  He
+was recommended by Gounsovski."
+
+Rouletabille chuckled.
+
+"Yes, yes, yes," grumbled the Chief of Police.  "Someone always
+laughs when his name is mentioned."
+
+Koupriane had turned red.  He rose, opened the door, gave a long
+direction in Russian, and returned to his chair.
+
+"Now," said he, "go ahead and tell me all the details of the poison
+and the grapes the marshal of the court brought.  I'm listening."
+
+Rouletabille told him very briefly and without drawing any deductions
+all that we already know.  He ended his account as a man dressed in
+a maroon coat with false astrakhan was introduced.  It was the same
+man Rouletabille had met in General Trebassof's drawing-room and who
+spoke French.  Two gendarmes were behind him.  The door had been
+closed.  Koupriane turned toward the man in the coat.
+
+"Touman," he said, "I want to talk to you.  You are a traitor, and
+I have proof.  You can confess to me, and I will give you a thousand
+roubles and you can take yourself off to be hanged somewhere else."
+
+The man's eyes shrank, but he recovered himself quickly.  He replied
+in Russian.
+
+"Speak French.  I order it," commanded Koupriane.
+
+"I answer, Your Excellency," said Touman firmly, " that I don't
+know what Your Excellency means."
+
+"I mean that you have helped a man get into the Trebassof villa by
+night when you were on guard under the window of the little
+sitting-room.  You see that there is no use deceiving us any longer.
+I play with you frankly, good play, good money.  The name of that
+man, and you have a thousand roubles."
+
+"I am ready to swear on the ikon of..."
+
+"Don't perjure yourself."
+
+"I have always loyally served..."
+
+"The name of that man."
+
+"I still don't know yet what Your Excellency means."
+
+"Oh, you understand me," replied Koupriane, who visibly held in an
+anger that threatened to break forth any moment.  "A man got into
+the house while you were watching..."
+
+"I never saw anything.  After all, it is possible.  There were some
+very dark nights.  I went back and forth."
+
+"You are not a fool.  The name of that man."
+
+"I assure you, Excellency..."
+
+"Strip him."
+
+"What are you going to do?" cried Rouletabille.
+
+But already the two guards had thrown themselves on Touman and had
+drawn off his coat and shirt.  The man was bare to the waist.
+
+"What are you going to do?  What are you going to do?"
+
+"Leave them alone," said Koupriane, roughly pushing Rouletabille
+back.
+
+Seizing a whip which hung at the waist of the guards he struck
+Touman a blow across the shoulders that drew blood.  Touman, mad
+with the outrage and the pain, shouted, "Yes, it is true!  I brag
+of it!"
+
+Koupriane did not restrain his rage.  He showered the unhappy man
+with blows, having thrown Rouletabille to the end of the room when
+he tried to interfere.  And while he proceeded with the punishment
+the Chief of Police hurled at the agent who had betrayed him an
+accompaniment of fearful threats, promising him that before he was
+hanged he should rot in the bottom-most dungeon of Peter and Paul,
+in the slimy pits lying under the Neva.  Touman, between the two
+guards who held him, and who sometimes received blows on the rebound
+that were not intended for them, never uttered a complaint.  Outside
+the invectives of Koupriane there was heard only the swish of the
+cords and the cries of Rouletabille, who continued to protest that
+it was abominable, and called the Chief of Police a savage.  Finally
+the savage stopped.  Gouts of blood had spattered all about.
+
+"Monsieur," said Rouletabille, who supported himself against the
+wall.  "I shall complain to the Tsar."
+
+"You are right," Koupriane replied, "but I feel relieved now.  You
+can't imagine the harm this man can have done to us in the weeks
+he has been here."
+
+Touman, across whose shoulders they had thrown his coat and who
+lay now across a chair, found strength to look up and say:
+
+"It is true.  You can't do me as much harm as I have done you,
+whether you think so or not.  All the harm that can be done me
+by you and yours is already accomplished.  My name is not Touman,
+but Matiev.  Listen.  I had a son that was the light of my eyes.
+Neither my son nor I had ever been concerned with politics.  I was
+employed in Moscow.  My son was a student.  During the Red Week we
+went out, my son and I, to see a little of what was happening over
+in the Presnia quarter.  They said everybody had been killed over
+there!  We passed before the Presnia gate.  Soldiers called to us
+to stop because they wished to search us.  We opened our coats.
+The soldiers saw my son's student waistcoat and set up a cry.  They
+unbuttoned the vest, drew a note-book out of his pocket and they
+found a workman's song in it that had been published in the Signal.
+The soldiers didn't know how to read.  They believed the paper was
+a proclamation, and they arrested my son.  I demanded to be arrested
+with him.  They pushed me away.  I ran to the governor's house.
+Trebassof had me thrust away from his door with blows from the
+butt-ends of his Cossacks' guns.  And, as I persisted, they kept me
+locked up all that night and the morning of the next day.  At noon
+I was set free.  I demanded my son and they replied they didn't know
+what I was talking about.  But a soldier that I recognized as having
+arrested my son the evening before pointed out a van that was passing,
+covered with a tarpaulin and surrounded by Cossacks.  'Your son is
+there,' he said; 'they are taking him to the graves.' Mad with
+despair, I ran after the van.  It went to the outskirts of
+Golountrine cemetery.  There I saw in the white snow a huge grave,
+wide, deep.  I shall see it to my last minute.  Two vans had already
+stopped near the hole.  Each van held thirteen corpses.  The vans
+were dumped into the trench and the soldiers commenced to sort the
+bodies into rows of six.  I watched for my son.  At last I recognized
+him in a body that half hung over the edge of the trench.  Horrors
+of suffering were stamped in the expression of his face.  I threw
+myself beside him.  I said that I was his father.  They let me
+embrace him a last time and count his wounds.  He had fourteen.
+Someone had stolen the gold chain that had hung about his neck and
+held the picture of his mother, who died the year before.  I
+whispered into his ear, I swore to avenge him.  Forty-eight hours
+later I had placed myself at the disposition of the Revolutionary
+Committee.  A week had not passed before Touman, whom, it seems,
+I resemble and who was one of the Secret Service agents in Kiew,
+was assassinated in the train that was taking him to St. Petersburg.
+The assassination was kept a secret.  I received all his papers and
+I took his place with you.  I was doomed beforehand and I asked
+nothing better, so long as I might last until after the execution
+of Trebassof.  Ah, how I longed to kill him with my own hands!  But
+another had already been assigned the duty and my role was to help
+him.  And do you suppose I am going to tell you the name of that
+other?  Never!  And if you discover that other, as you have
+discovered me, another will come, and another, and another, until
+Trebassof has paid for his crimes.  That is all I have to say to
+you, Koupriane.  As for you, my little fellow," added he, turning
+to Rouletabille, "I wouldn't give much for your bones.  Neither of
+you will last long.  That is my consolation."
+
+Koupriane had not interrupted the man.  He looked at him in silence,
+sadly.
+
+"You know, my poor man, you will be hanged now?" he said.
+
+"No," growled Rouletabille.  "Monsieur Koupriane, I'll bet you my
+purse that he will not be hanged."
+
+"And why not?" demanded the Chief of rolice, while, upon a sign
+from him, they took away the false Touman.
+
+"Because it is I who denounced him."
+
+"What a reason!  And what would you like me to do?"
+
+"Guard him for me; for me alone, do you understand?"
+
+"In exchange for what?"
+
+"In exchange for the life of General Trebassof, if I must put it
+that way."
+
+"Eh?  The life of General Trebassof!  You speak as if it belonged
+to you, as if you could dispose of it."
+
+Rouletabille laid his hand on Koupriane's arm.
+
+"Perhaps that's so," said he.
+
+"Would you like me to tell you one thing, Monsieur Rouletabille?
+It is that General Trebassof's life, after what has just escaped
+the lips of this Touman, who is not Touman, isn't worth any more
+than - than yours if you remain here.  Since you are disposed not
+to do anything more in this affair, take the train, monsieur, take
+the train, and go."
+
+Rouletabille walked back and forth, very much worked up; then
+suddenly he stopped short.
+
+"Impossible," he said.  "It is impossible.  I cannot; I am not able
+to go yet."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Good God, Monsieur Koupriane, because I have to interview the
+President of the Duma yet, and complete my little inquiry into the
+politics of the cadets."
+
+"Oh, indeed!"
+
+Koupriane looked at him with a sour grin.
+
+"What are you going to do with that man?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Have him fixed up first."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then take him before the judges."
+ 
+"That is to say, to the gallows?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, I offer it to you again.  Life for life.  Give
+me the life of that poor devil and I promise you General Trebassof's."
+
+"Explain yourself."
+
+"Not at all.  Do you promise me that you will maintain silence
+about the case of that man and that you will not touch a hair of
+his head?"
+
+Koupriane looked at Rouletabille as he had looked at him during the
+altercation they had on the edge of the Gulf.  He decided the same
+way this time.
+
+"Very well," said he.  "You have my word.  The poor devil!"
+
+"You are a brave man, Monsieur Koupriane, but a little quick with
+the whip..."
+
+"What would you expect?  One's work teaches that."
+
+"Good morning.  No, don't trouble to show me out.  I am compromised
+enough already," said Rouletabille, laughing.
+
+"Au revoir, and good luck!  Get to work interviewing the President
+of the Duma," added Koupriane knowingly, with a great laugh.
+
+But Rouletabille was already gone.
+
+"That lad," said the Chief of Police aloud to himself, "hasn't told
+me a bit of what he knows."
+
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+ANNOUCHKA
+
+"And now it's between us two, Natacha," murmured Rouletabille as
+soon as he was outside.  He hailed the first carriage that passed
+and gave the address of the datcha des Iles.  When he got in he
+held his head between his hands; his face burned, his jaws were set.
+But by a prodigious effort of his will he resumed almost instantly
+his calm, his self-control.  As he went back across the Neva, across
+the bridge where he had felt so elated a little while before, and
+saw the isles again he sighed heavily.  "I thought I had got it all
+over with, so far as I was concerned, and now I don't know where it
+will stop."  His eyes grew dark for a moment with somber thoughts
+and the vision of the Lady in Black rose before him; then he shook
+his head, filled his pipe, lighted it, dried a tear that had been
+caused doubtless by a little smoke in his eye, and stopped
+sentimentalizing.  A quarter of an hour later he gave a true Russian
+nobleman's fist-blow in the back to the coachman as an intimation
+that they had reached the Trebassof villa.  A charming picture was
+before him.  They were all lunching gayly in the garden, around the
+table in the summer-house.  He was astonished, however, at not
+seeing Natacha with them.  Boris Mourazoff and Michael Korsakoff
+were there.  Rouletabille did not wish to be seen.  He made a sign
+to Ermolai, who was passing through the garden and who hurried to
+meet him at the gate.
+
+"The Barinia," said the reporter, in a low voice and with his finger
+to his lips to warn the faithful attendant to caution.
+
+In two minutes Matrena Petrovna joined Rouletabille in the lodge.
+
+"Well, where is Natacha?" he demanded hurriedly as she kissed his
+hands quite as though she had made an idol of him.
+
+"She has gone away.  Yes, out.  Oh, I did not keep her.  I did not
+try to hold her back.  Her expression frightened me, you can
+understand, my little angel.  My, you are impatient!  What is it
+about?  How do we stand?  What have you decided?  I am your slave.
+Command me.  Command me.  The keys of the villa?"
+
+"Yes, give me a key to the veranda; you must have several.  I must
+be able to get into the house to-night if it becomes necessary."
+
+She drew a key from her gown, gave it to the young man and said a
+few words in Russian to Ermolai, to enforce upon him that he must
+obey the little domovoi-doukh in anything, day or night.
+
+"Now tell me where Natacha has gone."
+
+"Boris's parents came to see us a little while ago, to inquire after
+the general.  They have taken Natacha away with them, as they often
+have done.  Natacha went with them readily enough.  Little domovoi,
+listen to me, listen to Matrena Petrovna -  Anyone would have said
+she was expecting it!"
+
+"Then she has gone to lunch at their house?"
+
+"Doubtless, unless they have gone to a cafe.  I don't know.  Boris's
+father likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine.
+Calm yourself, little domovoi.  What ails you?  Bad news, eh?  Any
+bad news?"
+
+"No, no; everything is all right.  Quick, the address of Boris's
+family."
+
+"The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la
+Poste."
+
+"Good.  Thank you.  Adieu."
+
+He started for the Place St. Isaac, and picked up an interpreter at
+the Grand Morskaia Hotel on the way.  It might be useful to have him.
+At the Place St. Isaac he learned the Morazoffs and Natacha Trebassof
+had gone by train for luncheon at Bergalowe, one of the nearby
+stations in Finland.
+
+"That is all," said he, and added apart to himself, "And perhaps that
+is not true."
+
+He paid the coachman and the interpreter, and lunched at the
+Brasserie de Vienne nearby.  He left there a half-hour later, much
+calmer.  He took his way to the Grand Morskaia Hotel, went inside
+and asked the schwitzar:
+
+"Can you give me the address of Mademoiselle Annouchka?"
+
+"The singer of the Krestowsky?"
+
+"That is who I mean."
+
+"She had luncheon here.  She has just gone away with the prince."
+
+Without any curiosity as to which prince, Rouletabille cursed his
+luck and again asked for her address.
+
+"Why, she lives in an apartment just across the way."
+
+Rouletabille, feeling better, crossed the street, followed by the
+interpreter that he had engaged.  Across the way he learned on the
+landing of the first floor that Mademoiselle Annouchka was away for
+the day.  He descended, still followed by his interpreter, and
+recalling how someone had told him that in Russia it was always
+profitable to be generous, he gave five roubles to the interpreter
+and asked him for some information about Mademoiselle Annouchka's
+life in St.  Petersburg.  The interpreter whispered:
+
+"She arrived a week ago, but has not spent a single night in her
+apartment over there.
+
+He pointed to the house they had just left, and added:
+
+"Merely her address for the police."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, "I understand.  She sings this
+evening, doesn't she?"
+
+"Monsieur, it will be a wonderful debut."
+
+"Yes, yes, I know.  Thanks."
+
+All these frustrations in the things he had undertaken that day
+instead of disheartening him plunged him deep into hard thinking.
+He returned, his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, to the
+Place St. Isaac, walked around the church, keeping an eye on the
+house at the corner, investigated the monument, went inside,
+examined all its details, came out marveling, and finally went once
+again to the residence of the Mourazoffs, was told that they had
+not yet returned from the Finland town, then went and shut himself
+in his room at the hotel, where he smoked a dozen pipes of tobacco.
+He emerged from his cloud of smoke at dinner-time.
+
+At ten that evening he stepped out of his carriage before the
+Krestowsky.  The establishment of Krestowsky, which looms among the
+Isles much as the Aquarium does, is neither a theater, nor a
+music-hall, nor a cafe-concert, nor a restaurant, nor a public
+garden; it is all of these and some other things besides.  Summer
+theater, winter theater, open-air theater, hall for spectacles,
+scenic mountain, exercise-ground, diversions of all sorts, garden
+promenades, cafes, restaurants, private dining-rooms, everything is
+combined here that can amuse, charm, lead to the wildest orgies, or
+provide those who never think of sleep till toward three or four
+o'clock of a morning the means to await the dawn with patience.  The
+most celebrated companies of the old and the new world play there
+amid an enthusiasm that is steadily maintained by the foresight of
+the managers: Russian and foreign dancers, and above all the French
+chanteuses, the little dolls of the cafes-concerts, so long as they
+are young, bright, and elegantly dressed, may meet their fortune
+there.  If there is no such luck, they are sure at least to find
+every evening some old beau, and often some officer, who willingly
+pays twenty-five roubles for the sole pleasure of having a demoiselle
+born on the banks of the Seine for his companion at the supper-table.
+After their turn at the singing, these women display their graces and
+their eager smiles in the promenades of the garden or among the
+tables where the champagne-drinkers sit.  The head-liners, naturally,
+are not driven to this wearying perambulation, but can go away to
+their rest if they are so inclined.  However, the management is
+appreciative if they accept the invitation of some dignitary of the
+army, of administration, or of finance, who seeks the honor of
+hearing from the chanteuse, in a private room and with a company of
+friends not disposed to melancholy, the Bohemian songs of the Vieux
+Derevnia.  They sing, they loll, they talk of Paris, and above all
+they drink.  If sometimes the little fete ends rather roughly, it
+is the friendly and affectionate champagne that is to blame, but
+usually the orgies remain quite innocent, of a character that
+certainly might trouble the temperance societies but need not make
+M. le Senateur Berenger feel involved.
+
+A war whose powder fumes reeked still, a revolution whose last
+defeated growls had not died away at the period of these events,
+had not at all diminished the nightly gayeties of Kretowsky.  Many
+of the young men who displayed their uniforms that evening and
+called their "Nichevo" along the brilliantly lighted paths of the
+public gardens, or filled the open-air tables, or drank vodka at
+the buffets, or admired the figures of the wandering soubrettes,
+had come here on the eve of their departure for the war and had
+returned with the same child-like, enchanted smile, the same ideal
+of futile joy, and kissed their passing comrades as gayly as ever.
+Some of them had a sleeve lying limp now, or walked with a crutch,
+or even on a wooden leg, but it was, all the same, "Nichevo!"
+
+The crowd this evening was denser than ordinarily, because there
+was the chance to hear Annouchka again for the first time since the
+somber days of Moscow.  The students were ready to give her an
+ovation, and no one opposed it, because, after all, if she sang now
+it was because the police were willing at last.  If the Tsar's
+government had granted her her life, it was not in order to compel
+her to die of hunger.  Each earned a livelihood as was possible.
+Annouchka only knew how to sing and dance, and so she must sing
+and dance!
+
+When Rouletabille entered the Krestowsky Gardens, Annouchka had
+commenced her number, which ended with a tremendous "Roussalka."
+Surrounded by a chorus of male and female dancers in the national
+dress and with red boots, striking tambourines with their fingers,
+then suddenly taking a rigid pose to let the young woman's voice,
+which was of rather ordinary register, come out, Annouchka had
+centered the attention of the immense audience upon herself.  All
+the other parts of the establishment were deserted, the tables had
+been removed, and a panting crowd pressed about the open-air theater.
+Rouletabille stood up on his chair at the moment tumultuous "Bravos"
+sounded from a group of students.  Annouchka bowed toward them,
+seeming to ignore the rest of the audience, which had not dared
+declare itself yet.  She sang the old peasant songs arranged to
+present-day taste, and interspersed them with dances.  They had an
+enormous success, because she gave her whole soul to them and sang
+with her voice sometimes caressing, sometimes menacing, and
+sometimes magnificently desperate, giving much significance to
+words which on paper had not aroused the suspicions of the censor.
+The taste of the day was obviously still a taste for the revolution,
+which retained its influence on the banks of the Neva.  What she
+was doing was certainly very bold, and apparently she realized how
+audacious she was, because, with great adroitness, she would bring
+out immediately after some dangerous phrase a patriotic couplet
+which everybody was anxious to applaud.  She succeeded by such means
+in appealing to all the divergent groups of her audience and secured
+a complete triumph for herself.  The students, the revolutionaries,
+the radicals and the cadets acclaimed the singer, glorifying not
+only her art but also and beyond everything else the sister of the
+engineer Volkousky, who had been doomed to perish with her brother
+by the bullets of the Semenovsky regiment.  The friends of the
+Court on their side could not forget that it was she who, in front
+of the Kremlin, had struck aside the arm of Constantin Kochkarof,
+ordered by the Central Revolutionary Committee to assassinate the
+Grand Duke Peter Alexandrovitch as he drove up to the governor's
+house in his sleigh.  The bomb burst ten feet away, killing
+Constantin Kochkarof himself.  It may be that before death came he
+had time to hear Annouchka cry to him, "Wretch!  You were told to
+kill the prince, not to assassinate his children."  As it happened,
+Peter Alexandrovitch held on his knees the two little princesses,
+seven and eight years old.  The Court had wished to recompense her
+for that heroic act.  Annouchka had spit at the envoy of the Chief
+of Police who called to speak to her of money.  At the Hermitage in
+Moscow, where she sang then, some of her admirers had warned her of
+possible reprisals on the part of the revolutionaries.  But the
+revolutionaries gave her assurance at once that she had nothing to
+fear.  They approved her act and let her know that they now counted
+on her to kill the Grand Duke some time when he was alone; which
+had made Annouchka laugh.  She was an enfant terrible, whose friends
+no one knew, who passed for very wise, and whose lines of intrigue
+were inscrutable.  She enjoyed making her hosts in the private
+supper-rooms quake over their meal.  One day she had said bluntly
+to one of the most powerful tchinovnicks of Moscow:  "You, my old
+friend, you are president of the Black Hundred.  Your fate is sealed.
+Yesterday you were condemned to death by the delegates of the Central
+Committee at Presnia.  Say your prayers."  The man reached for
+champagne.  He never finished his glass.  The dvornicks carried him
+out stricken with apoplexy.  Since the time she saved the little
+grand-duchesses the police had orders to allow her to act and talk
+as she pleased.  She had been mixed up in the deepest plots against
+the government.  Those who lent the slightest countenance to such
+plottings and were not of the police simply disappeared.  Their
+friends dared not even ask for news of them.  The only thing not in
+doubt about them was that they were at hard labor somewhere in the
+mines of the Ural Mountains.  At the moment of the revolution
+Annouchka had a brother who was an engineer on the Kasan-Moscow line.
+This Volkousky was one of the leaders on the Strike Committee.  The
+authorities had an eye on him.  The revolution started.  He, with
+the help of his sister, accomplished one of those formidable acts
+which will carry their memory as heroes to the farthest posterity.
+Their work accomplished, they were taken by Trebassof's soldiers.
+Both were condemned to death.  Volkousky was executed first, and
+the sister was taking her turn when an officer of the government
+arrived on horseback to stop the firing.  The Tsar, informed of her
+intended fate, had sent a pardon by telegraph.  After that she
+disappeared.  She was supposed to have gone on some tour across
+Europe, as was her habit, for she spoke all the languages, like a
+true Bohemian.  Now she had reappeared in all her joyous glory at
+Krestowsky.  It was certain, however, that she had not forgotten her
+brother.  Gossips said that if the government and the police showed
+themselves so long-enduring they found it to their interest to do
+so.  The open, apparent life Annouclika led was less troublesome to
+them than her hidden activities would be.  The lesser police who
+surrounded the Chief of the St.  retersburg Secret Service, the
+famous Gounsovski, had meaning smiles when the matter was discussed.
+Among them Annouchka had the ignoble nickname, "Stool-pigeon."
+
+Rouletabille must have been well aware of all these particulars
+concerning Annoucbka, for he betrayed no astonishment at the great
+interest and the strong emotion she aroused.  From the corner
+where he was he could see only a bit of the stage, and he was
+standing on tiptoes to see the singer when he felt his coat pulled.
+He turned.  It was the jolly advocate, well known for his gastronomic
+feats, Athanase Georgevitch, along with the jolly Imperial councilor,
+Ivan Petrovitch, who motioned him to climb down.
+
+"Come with us; we have a box."
+
+Rouletabille did not need urging, and he was soon installed in the
+front of a box where he could see the stage and the public both.
+Just then the curtain fell on the first part of Annouchka's
+performance.  The friends were soon rejoined by Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, the great timber-merchant, who came from behind the
+scenes.
+
+"I have been to see the beautiful Onoto," announced the Lithuanian
+with a great satisfied laugh.  "Tell me the news.  All the girls
+are sulking over Annouchka's success."
+
+"Who dragged you into the Onoto's dressing-room then?  demanded
+Athanase.
+
+"Oh, Gounsovski himself, my dear.  He is very amateurish, you know."
+
+"What!  do you knock around with Gounsovski?"
+
+"On my word, I tell you, dear friends, he isn't a bad acquaintance.
+He did me a little service at Bakou last year.  A good acquaintance
+in these times of public trouble."
+
+"You are in the oil business now, are you?"
+
+"Oh, yes, a little of everything for a livelihood.  I have a little
+well down Bakou way, nothing big; and a little house, a very small
+one for my small business."
+
+"What a monopolist Thaddeus is," declared Athanase Georgevitch,
+hitting him a formidable slap on the thigh with his enormous hand.
+"Gounsovski has come himself to keep an eye on Annouchka's debut,
+eh?  Only he goes into Onoto's dressing-room, the rogue."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't trouble himself.  Do you know who he is to have
+supper with?  With Annouchka, my dears, and we are invited."
+
+"How's that?" inquired the jovial councilor.
+
+"It seems Gounsovski influenced the minister to permit Annouchka's
+performance by declaring he would be responsible for it all.  He
+required from Annouchka solely that she have supper with him on the
+evening of her debut."
+
+"And Annouchka consented?"
+
+"That was the condition, it seems.  For that matter, they say that
+Annouchka and Gounsovski don't. get along so badly together.
+Gounsovski has done Annouchka many a good turn.  They say he is in
+love with her."
+
+"He has the air of an umbrella merchant," snorted Athanase
+Georgevitch.
+
+"Have you seen him at close range?" inquired Ivan.
+
+"I have dined at his house, though it is nothing to boast of, on
+my word."
+
+"That is what he said," replied Thaddeus.  "When he knew we were
+here together, he said to me: 'Bring him, he is a charming fellow
+who plies a great fork; and bring that dear man Ivan Petrovitch,
+and all your friends.'"
+
+"Oh, I only dined at his house," grumbled Athanase, "because there
+was a favor he was going to do me."
+
+"He does services for everybody, that man," observed Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"Of course, of course; he ought to," retorted Athanase.  "What is
+a chief of Secret Service for if not to do things for everybody?
+For everybody, my dear friends, and a little for himself besides.
+A chief of Secret Service has to be in with everybody, with
+everybody and his father, as La Fontaine says (if you know that
+author), if he wants to hold his place.  You know what I mean."
+
+Athanase laughed loudly, glad of the chance to show how French he
+could be in his allusions, and looked at Rouletabille to see if he
+had been able to catch the tone of the conversation; but Rouletabille
+was too much occupied in watching a profile wrapped in a mantilla
+of black lace, in the Spanish fashion, to repay Athanase's
+performance with a knowing smile.
+
+"You certainly have naive notions.  You think a chief of Secret
+Police should be an ogre," replied the advocate as he nodded here
+and there to his friends.
+
+"Why, certainly not.  He needs to be a sheep in a place like that,
+a thorough sheep.  Gounsovski is soft as a sheep.  The time I dined
+with him he had mutton streaked with fat.  He is just like that.  I
+am sure he is mainly layers of fat.  When you shake hands you feel
+as though you had grabbed a piece of fat.  My word!  And when he
+eats he wags his jaw fattishly.  His head is like that, too; bald,
+you know, with a cranium like fresh lard.  He speaks softly and looks
+at you like a kid looking to its mother for a juicy meal."
+
+"But - why - it is Natacha!" murmured the lips of the young man.
+
+"Certainly it is Natacha, Natacha herself," exclaimed Ivan
+Petrovitch, who had used his glasses the better to see whom the
+young French journalist was looking at.  "Ah, the dear child!
+she has wanted to see Annouchka for a long time."
+
+"What, Natacha!  So it is.  So it is.  Natacha!  Natacha!" said the
+others.  "And with Boris Mourazoff's parents."
+
+"But Boris is not there," sniggered Thaddeus Tehitchnikoff.
+
+"Oh, he can't be far away.  If he was there we would see Michael
+Korsakoff too.  They keep close on each other's heels."
+
+"How has she happened to leave the general?  She said she couldn't
+bear to be away from him."
+
+"Except to see Annouchka," replied Ivan.  "She wanted to see her,
+and talked so about it when I was there that even Feodor Feodorovitch
+was rather scandalized at her and Matrena Petrovna reproved her
+downright rudely.  But what a girl wishes the gods bring about.
+That's the way."
+
+"That's so, I know," put in Athanase.  "Ivan Petrovitch is right.
+Natacha hasn't been able to hold herself in since she read that
+Annouchka was going to make her debut at Krestowsky.  She said
+she wasn't going to die without having seen the great artist."
+
+"Her father had almost drawn her away from that crowd," affirmed
+Ivan, "and that was as it should be.  She must have fixed up this
+affair with Boris and his parents."
+
+"Yes, Feodor certainly isn't aware that his daughter's idea was to
+applaud the heroine of Kasan station.  She is certainly made of
+stern stuff, my word," said Athanase.
+
+"Natacha, you must remember, is a student," said Thaddeus, shaking
+his head; "a true student.  They have misfortunes like that now in
+so many families.  I recall, apropos of what Ivan said just now,
+how today she asked Michael Korsakoff, before me, to let her know
+where Annouchka would sing.  More yet, she said she wished to speak
+to that artist if it were possible.  Michael frowned on that idea,
+even before me.  But Michael couldn't refuse her, any more than the
+others.  He can reach Annouchka easier than anyone else.  You
+remember it was he who rode hard and arrived in time with the pardon
+for that beautiful witch; she ought not to forget him if she cared
+for her life."
+
+"Anyone who knows Michael Nikolaievitch knows that he did his duty
+promptly," announced Athanase Georgevitch crisply.  "But he would
+not have gone a step further to save Annouchka.  Even now he won't
+compromise his career by being seen at the home of a woman who is
+never from under the eyes of Gounsovski's agents and who hasn't been
+nicknamed 'Stool-pigeon' for nothing."
+
+"Then why do we go to supper tonight with Annouchka?" asked Ivan.
+
+"That's not the same thing.  We are invited by Gounsovski himself.
+Don't forget that, if stories concerning it drift about some day,
+my friends," said Thaddeus.
+
+"For that matter, Thaddeus, I accept the invitation of the honorable
+chief of our admirable Secret Service because I don't wish to slight
+him.  I have dined at his house already.  By sitting opposite him at
+a public table here I feel that I return that politeness.  What do
+you say to that?"
+
+"Since you have dined with him, tell us what kind of a man he is
+aside from his fattish qualities," said the curious councilor.
+"So many things are said about him.  He certainly seems to be a man
+it is better to stand in with than to fall out with, so I accept
+his invitation.  How could you manage to refuse it, anyway?"
+
+"When he first offered me hospitality," explained the advocate, "I
+didn't even know him.  I never had been near him.  One day a police
+agent came and invited me to dinner by command - or, at least, I
+understood it wasn't wise to refuse the invitation, as you said,
+Ivan Petrovitch.  When I went to his house I thought I was entering
+a fortress, and inside I thought it must be an umbrella shop.  There
+were umbrellas everywhere, and goloshes.  True, it was a day of
+pouring rain.  I was struck by there being no guard with a big
+revolver in the antechamber.  He had a little, timid schwitzar
+there, who took my umbrella, murmuring 'barine' and bowing over and
+over again.  He conducted me through very ordinary rooms quite
+unguarded to an average sitting-room of a common kind.  We dined
+with Madame Gounsovski, who appeared fattish like her husband, and
+three or four men whom I had never seen anywhere.  One servant
+waited on us.  My word!
+
+"At dessert Gounsovski took me aside and told me I was unwise to
+'argue that way.' I asked him what he meant by that.  He took my
+hands between his fat hands and repeated, 'No, no, it is not wise
+to argue like that.'  I couldn't draw anything else out of him.
+For that matter, I understood him, and, you know, since that day
+I have cut out certain side passages unnecessary in my general
+law pleadings that had been giving me a reputation for rather too
+free opinions in the papers.  None of that at my age!  Ah, the
+great Gounsovski!  Over our coffee I asked him if he didn't find
+the country in pretty strenuous times.  He replied that he looked
+forward with impatience to the month of May, when he could go for
+a rest to a little property with a small garden that he had bought
+at Asnieres, near Paris.  When he spoke of their house in the
+country Madame Gounsovski heaved a sigh of longing for those simple
+country joys.  The month of May brought tears to her eyes.  Husband
+and wife looked at one another with real tenderness.  They had not
+the air of thinking for one second: to-morrow or the day after,
+before our country happiness comes, we may find ourselves stripped
+of everything.  No!  They were sure of their happy vacation and
+nothing seemed able to disquiet them under their fat.  Gounsovski
+has done everybody so many services that no one really wishes him
+ill, poor man.  Besides, have you noticed, my dear old friends, that
+no one ever tries to work harm to chiefs of Secret Police?  One goes
+after heads of police, prefects of police, ministers, grand-dukes,
+and even higher, but the chiefs of Secret Police are never, never
+attacked.  They can promenade tranquilly in the streets or in the
+gardens of Krestowsky or breathe the pure air of the Finland country
+or even the country around Paris.  They have done so many little
+favors for this one and that, here and there, that no one wishes to
+do them the least injury.  Each person always thinks, too, that
+others have been less well served than he.  That is the secret of
+the thing, my friends, that is the secret.  What do you say?"
+
+The others said: "Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski.  He knows.  He knows.
+Certainly, accept his supper.  With Annouchka it will be fun."
+
+"Messieurs," asked Rouletabille, who continued to make discoveries
+in the audience, "do you know that officer who is seated at the end
+of a row down there in the orchestra seats?  See, he is getting up."
+
+"He?  Why, that is Prince Galitch, who was one of the richest lords
+of the North Country.  Now he is practically ruined."
+
+"Thanks, gentlemen; certainly it is he.  I know him," said
+Rouletabille, seating himself and mastering his emotion.
+
+"They say he is a great admirer of Annouchka," hazarded Thaddeus.
+Then he walked away from the box.
+
+"The prince has been ruined by women," said Athanase Georgevitch,
+who pretended to know the entire chronicle of gallantries in the
+empire.
+
+"He also has been on good terms with Gounsovski," continued Thaddeus.
+
+"He passes at court, though, for an unreliable.  He once made a
+long visit to Tolstoi."
+
+"Bah!  Gounsovski must have rendered some signal service to that
+imprudent prince," concluded Athanase.  "But for yourself, Thaddeus,
+you haven't said what you did with Gounsovski at Bakou."
+
+(Rouletabille did not lose a word of what was being said around him,
+although he never lost sight of the profile hidden in the black
+mantle nor of Prince Galitch, his personal enemy,* who reappeared,
+it seemed to him, at a very critical moment.)
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+* as told in "The Lady In Black."
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+"I was returning from Balakani in a drojki," said Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, "and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen the
+debris of my oil shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when
+I met Gounsovski in the road, who, with two of his friends, found
+themselves badly off with one of the wheels of their carriage broken.
+I stopped.  He explained to me that he had a Tartar coachman, and
+that this coachman having seen an Armenian on the road before him,
+could find nothing better to do than run full tilt into the
+Armenian's equipage.  He had reached over and taken the reins from
+him, but a wheel of the carriage was broken." (Rouletabille quivered,
+because he caught a glance of communication between Prince Galitch
+and Natacha, who was leaning over the edge of her box.)  "So I
+offered to take Gounsovski and his friends into my carriage, and
+we rode all together to Bakou after Gounsovski, who always wishes
+to do a service, as Athanase Georgevitch says, had warned his Tartar
+coachman not to finish the Armenian."  (Prince Galitch, at the
+moment the orchestra commenced the introductory music for
+Annouchka's new number, took advantage of all eyes being turned
+toward the rising curtain to pass near Natacha's seat.  This time
+he did not look at Natacha, but Rouletabille was sure that his lips
+had moved as he went by her.)
+
+Thaddeus continued: "It is necessary to explain that at Bakou my
+little house is one of the first before you reach the quay.  I had
+some Armenian employees there.  When arrived, what do you suppose
+I saw?  A file of soldiers with cannon, yes, with a cannon, on my
+word, turned against my house and an officer saying quietly, 'there
+it is.  Fire!'"  (Rouletabille made yet another discovery - two,
+three discoveries.  Near by, standing back of Natacha's seat, was
+a figure not unknown to the young reporter, and there, in one of
+the orchestra chairs, were two other men whose faces he had seen
+that same morning in Koupriane's barracks.  Here was where a memory
+for faces stood him in good stead.  He saw that he was not the only
+person keeping close watch on Natacha.)  "When I heard what the
+officer said," Thaddeus went on, "I nearly dropped out of the
+drojki.  I hurried to the police commissioner.  He explained the
+affair promptly, and I was quick to understand.  During my absence
+one of my Armenian employees had fired at a Tartar who was passing.
+For that matter, he had killed him.  The governor was informed and
+had ordered the house to be bombarded, for an example, as had been
+done with several others.  I found Gounsovski and told him the
+trouble in two words.  He said it wasn't necessary for him to
+interfere in the affair, that I had only to talk to the officer.
+'Give him a good present, a hundred roubles, and he will leave your
+house.  I went back to the officer and took him aside; he said he
+wanted to do anything that he could for me, but that the order was
+positive to bombard the house.  I reported his answer to Gounsovski,
+who told me: 'Tell him then to turn the muzzle of the cannon the
+other way and bombard the building of the chemist across the way,
+then he can always say that he mistook which house was intended.'
+I did that, and he had them turn the cannon.  They bombarded the
+chemist's place, and I got out of the whole thing for the hundred
+roubles.  Gounsovski, the good fellow, may be a great lump of fat
+and be like an umbrella merchant, but I have always been grateful
+to him from the bottom of my heart, you can understand, Athanase
+Georgevitch."
+
+"What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?" inquired
+Rouletabille all at once.
+
+"Oh, oh!" laughed the others.  "Since he went so openly to visit
+Tolstoi he doesn't go to the court any more."
+
+"And - his opinions?  What are his opinions?"
+
+"Oh, the opinions of everybody are so mixed nowadays, nobody knows."
+
+Ivan Petrovitch said, "He passes among some people as very advanced
+and very much compromised."
+
+"Yet they don't bother him?" inquired Rouletabille.
+
+Pooh, pooh," replied the gay Councilor of Empire, "it is rather he
+who tries to mix with them."
+
+Thaddeus stooped down and said, "They say that he can't be reached
+because of the hold he has over a certain great personage in the
+court, and it would be a scandal - a great scandal."
+
+"Be quiet, Thaddeus," interrupted Athanase Georgevitch, roughly.
+"It is easy to see that you are lately from the provinces to speak
+so recklessly, but if you go on this way I shall leave."
+
+"Athanase Georgevitch is right; hang onto your mouth, Thaddeus,"
+counseled Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+The talkers all grew silent, for the curtain was rising.  In the
+audience there were mysterious allusions being made to this second
+number of Annouchka, but no one seemed able to say what it was to
+be, and it was, as a matter of fact, very simple.  After the
+whirl-wind of dances and choruses and all the splendor with which
+she had been accompanied the first time, Annouchka appeared as a
+poor Russian peasant in a scene representing the barren steppes,
+and very simply she sank to her knees and recited her evening prayers.
+Annouchka was singularly beautiful.  Her aquiline nose with sensitive
+nostrils, the clean-cut outline of her eyebrows, her look that now
+was almost tender, now menacing, always unusual, her pale rounded
+cheeks and the entire expression of her face showed clearly the
+strength of new ideas, spontaneity, deep resolution and, above all,
+passion.  The prayer was passionate.  She had an admirable contralto
+voice which affected the audience strangely from its very first
+notes.  She asked God for daily bread for everyone in the immense
+Russian land, daily bread for the flesh and for the spirit, and she
+stirred the tears of everyone there, to which-ever party they
+belonged.  And when, as her last note sped across the desolate
+steppe and she rose and walked toward the miserable hut, frantic
+bravos from a delirious audience told her the prodigious emotions
+she had aroused.  Little Rouletabille, who, not understanding the
+words, nevertheless caught the spirit of that prayer, wept.
+Everybody wept.  Ivan Petrovitcb, Atbanase Georgevitch, Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff were standing up, stamping their feet and clapping
+their hands like enthusiastic boys.  The students, who could be
+easily distinguished by the uniform green edging they wore on their
+coats, uttered insensate cries.  And suddenly there rose the first
+strains of the national hymn.  There was hesitation at first, a
+wavering.  But not for long.  Those who had been dreading some
+counter-demonstration realized that no objection could possibly
+be raised to a prayer for the Tsar.  All heads uncovered and the
+Bodje Taara Krari mounted, unanimously, toward the stars.
+
+Through his tears the young reporter never gave up his close watch
+on Natacha.  She had half risen, and, sinking back, leaned on the
+edge of the box.  She called, time and time again, a name that
+Rouletabille could not hear in the uproar, but that he felt sure
+was "Annouchka!  Annouchka!"  "The reckless girl," murmured
+Rouletabille, and, profiting by the general excitement, he left the
+box without being noticed.  He made his way through the crowd toward
+Natacha, whom he had sought futilely since morning.  The audience,
+after clamoring in vain for a repetition of the prayer by Annouchka,
+commenced to disperse, and the reporter was swept along with them
+for a few moments.  When he reached the range of boxes he saw that
+Natacha and the family she had been with were gone.  He looked on
+all sides without seeing the object of his search and like a madman
+commenced to run through the passages, when a sudden idea struck his
+blood cold.  He inquired where the exit for the artists was and as
+soon as it was pointed out, he hurried there.  He was not mistaken.
+In the front line of the crowd that waited to see Annouchka come
+out he recognized Natacha, with her head enveloped in the black
+mantle so that none should see her face.  Besides, this corner of
+the garden was in a half-gloom.  The police barred the way; he could
+not approach as near Natacha as he wished.  He set himself to slip
+like a serpent through the crowd.  He was not separated from Natacha
+by more than four or five persons when a great jostling commenced.
+Annouchka was coming out.  Cries rose: "Annouchka!  Annouchka!"
+Rouletabille threw himself on his knees and on all-fours succeeded
+in sticking his head through into the way kept by the police for
+Annouchka's passage.  There, wrapped in a great red mantle, his hat
+on his arm, was a man Rouletabille immediately recognized.  It was
+Prince Galitch.  They were hurrying to escape the impending pressure
+of the crowd.  But Annouchka as she passed near Natacha stopped just
+a second - a movement that did not escape Rouletabille - and,
+turning toward her said just the one word, "Caracho."  Then she
+passed on.  Rouletabille got up and forced his way back, having
+once more lost Natacha.  He searched for her.  He ran to the
+carriage-way and arrived just in time to see her seated in a
+carriage with the Mourazoff family.  The carriage started at once
+in the direction of the datcha des Iles.  The young man remained
+standing there, thinking.  He made a gesture as though he were
+ready now to let luck take its course.  "In the end," said he, "it
+will be better so, perhaps," and then, to himself, "Now to supper,
+my boy."
+
+He turned in his tracks and soon was established in the glaring
+light of the restaurant.  Officers standing, glass in hand, were
+saluting from table to table and waving a thousand compliments with
+grace that was almost feminine.
+
+He heard his name called joyously, and recognized the voice of Ivan
+Petrovitch.  The three boon companions were seated over a bottle of
+champagne resting in its ice-bath and were being served with tiny
+pates while they waited for the supper-hour, which was now near.
+
+Rouletabille yielded to their invitation readily enough, and
+accompanied them when the head-waiter informed Thaddeus that the
+gentlemen were desired in a private room.  They went to the first
+floor and were ushered into a large apartment whose balcony opened
+on the hall of the winter-theater, empty now.  But the apartment
+was already occupied.  Before a table covered with a shining service
+Gounsovski did the honors.
+
+He received them like a servant, with his head down, an obsequious
+smile, and his back bent, bowing several times as each of the guests
+were presented to him.  Athanase had described him accurately
+enough, a mannikin in fat.  Under the vast bent brow one could
+hardly see his eyes, behind the blue glasses that seemed always
+ready to fall as he inclined too far his fat head with its timid
+and yet all-powerful glance.  When he spoke in his falsetto voice,
+his chin dropped in a fold over his collar, and he had a steady
+gesture with the thumb and index finger of his right hand to retain
+the glasses from sliding down his short, thick nose.
+
+Behind him there was the fine, haughty silhouette of Prince Galitch.
+He had been invited by Annouchka, for she had consented to risk this
+supper only in company with three or four of her friends, officers
+who could not be further compromised by this affair, as they were
+already under the eye of the Okrana (Secret Police) despite their
+high birth.  Gounsovski had seen them come with a sinister chuckle
+and had lavished upon them his marks of devotion.
+
+He loved Annouchka.  It would have sufficed to have surprised just
+once the jealous glance he sent from beneath his great blue glasses
+when he gazed at the singer to have understood the sentiments that
+actuated him in the presence of the beautiful daughter of the Black
+Land.
+
+Annouchka was seated, or, rather, she lounged, Oriental fashion,
+on the sofa which ran along the wall behind the table.  She paid
+attention to no one.  Her attitude was forbidding, even hostile.
+She indifferently allowed her marvelous black hair that fell in two
+tresses over her shoulder to be caressed by the perfumed hands of
+the beautiful Onoto, who had heard her this evening for the first
+time and had thrown herself with enthusiasm into her arms after the
+last number.  Onoto was an artist too, and the pique she felt at
+first over Annouchka's success could not last after the emotion
+aroused by the evening prayer before the hut.  "Come to supper,"
+Annouchka had said to her.
+
+"With whom?" inquired the Spanish artist.
+
+"With Gounsovski."
+
+"Never."
+
+"Do come.  You will help me pay my debt and perhaps he will be
+useful to you as well.  He is useful to everybody."
+
+Decidedly Onoto did not understand this country, where the worst
+enemies supped together.
+
+Rouletabille had been monopolized at once by Prince Galitch, who
+took him into a corner and said:
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Do I inconvenience you?" asked the boy.
+
+The other assumed the amused smile of the great lord.
+
+"While there is still time," he said, "believe me, you ought to
+start, to quit this country.  Haven't you had sufficient notice?"
+
+"Yes," replied the reporter.  "And you can dispense with any further
+notice from this time on."
+
+He turned his back.
+
+"Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa," commenced
+the falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the
+young man and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch,
+who was already busy with the hors-doeuvres.
+
+"How do you do, monsieur?" said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.
+
+Rouletabille saluted.
+
+"I see that I am in a country of acquaintances," he said, without
+appearing disturbed.
+
+He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.
+
+"Rouletabille!" cried la belle Onoto.  "Why, then, he is the little
+fellow who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room."
+
+"Himself."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"He came to save the life of General Trebassof," sniggered
+Gounsovski.  "He is certainly a brave little young man."
+
+"The police know everything," said Rouletabille coldly.  And he
+asked for champagne, which he never drank.
+
+The champagne commenced its work.  While Thaddeus and the officers
+told each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women,
+Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille
+and gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.
+
+"You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more
+difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his
+enemies but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane.  Understand
+me thoroughly: Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very
+highly.  He is good, brave as a warrior, but I wouldn't give a
+kopeck for his police.  He has mixed in our affairs lately by
+creating his own secret police, but I don't wish to meddle with that.
+It amuses us.  It's the new style, anyway; everybody wants his secret
+police nowadays.  And yourself, young man, what, after all, are you
+doing here?  Reporting?  No.  Police work?  That is our business
+and your business.  I wish you good luck, but I don't expect it.
+Remember that if you need any help I will give it you willingly.  I
+love to be of service.  And I don't wish any harm to befall you."
+
+"You are very kind, monsieur," was all Rouletabille replied, and
+he called again for champagne.
+
+Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who
+concerned herself with her meal and had little answer for him.
+
+"Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?"
+
+"No," said Annouchka indifferently.
+
+"The daughter of General Trebassof."
+
+"Yes, that is true, on my word," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"Yes, yes, Natacba was there," joined in the other friends from the
+datcha des Iles.
+
+"For me, I saw her weep," said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka
+fixedly.
+
+But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:
+
+"I do not know her."
+
+"She is unlucky in having a father..."  Prince Galitch commenced.
+
+"Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave," clucked Gounsovski.
+"Your health, dear Annouchka."
+
+"Your health, Gounsovski.  But you have no worry about that."
+
+"Why?" demanded Thaddeus Tchitcbnikoff in equivocal fashion.
+
+"Because he is too useful to the government," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"No," replied Annouchka; "to the revolutionaries."
+
+All broke out laughing.  Gounsovski recovered his slipping glasses
+by his usual quick movement and sniggered softly, insinuatingly,
+like fat boiling in the pot:
+
+"So they say.  And it is my strength."
+
+"His system is excellent," said the prince.  "As he is in with
+everybody, everybody is in with the police, without knowing it."
+
+"They say ... ah,ah ... they say ..." (Athanase was choking over a
+little piece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) "they say that
+he has driven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the
+church of Kasan."
+
+Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans,
+street-thieves who since the recent political troubles had infested
+St. Petersburg and whom nobody, could get rid of without paying
+for it.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch said:
+
+"There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never
+have.  One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station.
+The girl, frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with
+two roubles and fifty kopecks in it.  The hooligan took it all.
+'Goodness,' cried she, 'I have nothing now to take my train with.'
+'How much is it?' asked the hooligan.  'Sixty kopecks.' 'Sixty
+kopecks!  Why didn't you say so?' And the bandit, hanging onto the
+two roules, returned the fifty-kopeck piece to the trembling child
+and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his own pocket."
+
+"Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow,"
+said la belle Onoto.  "I had just stepped out of the door when I was
+stopped by a hooligan.  'Give me twenty kopecks,' said the hooligan.
+I was so frightened that I couldn't get my purse open.  'Quicker,'
+said he.  Finally I gave him twenty kopecks.  'Now,' said he then,
+'kiss my hand.'  And I had to kiss it, because he held his knife in
+the other."
+
+"Oh, they are quick with their knives," said Thaddeus.  "As I was
+leaving Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a
+huge carving-knife under my nose.  'You can have it for a rouble
+and a half,' he said.  You can believe that I bought it without any
+haggling.  And it was a very good bargain. It was worth at least
+three roubles.  Your health, belle Onoto."
+
+"I always take my revolver when I go out," said Athanase.  "It is
+more prudent.  I say this before the police.  But I would rather be
+arrested by the police than stabbed by the hooligans."
+
+"There's no place any more to buy revolvers," dedared Ivan
+Petrovitch.  "All such places are closed."
+
+Gounsovski settled his glasses, rubbed his fat hands and said:
+
+"There are some still at my locksmith's place.  The proof is that
+to-day in the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith,
+when into the house of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell
+him a revolver.  It was a Browning.  'An arm of the greatest
+reliability,' he said to him, 'which never misses fire and which
+works very easily.'  Having pronounced these words, the locksmith
+tried his revolver and lodged a ball in the grocer's lung.  The
+grocer is dead, but before he died he bought the revolver.  'You
+are right,' he said to the locksmith; 'it is a terrible weapon.'
+And then he died."
+
+The others laughed heartily.  They thought it very funny.  Decidedly
+this great Gounsovski always had a funny story.  Who would not like
+to be his friend?  Annouchka had deigned to smile.  Gounsovski, in
+recognition, extended his hand to her like a mendicant.  The young
+woman touched it with the end of her fingers, as if she were placing
+a twenty-kopeck piece in the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from
+it with disgust.  Then the doors opened for the Bohemians.  Their
+swarthy troupe soon filled the room.  Every evening men and women
+in their native costumes came from old Derevnia, where they lived
+all together in a sort of ancient patriarchal community, with customs
+that had not changed for centuries; they scattered about in the
+places of pleasure, in the fashionable restaurants, where they
+gathered large sums, for it was a fashionable luxury to have them
+sing at the end of suppers, and everyone showered money on them in
+order not to be behind the others.  They accompanied on guzlas, on
+castanets, on tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful and
+languorous, or excitable and breathiess as the flight of the
+earliest nomads in the beginnings of the world.
+
+When they had entered, those present made place for them, and
+Rouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue
+and of a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn't in the
+habit of drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion
+to get a corner of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who
+occupied the place at Annouchka's right.
+
+"Look, Rouletabaille is asleep," remarked la belle Onoto.
+
+"Poor boy!" said Annouchka.
+
+And, turning toward Gounsovski:
+
+"Aren't you soon going to get him out of our way?  I heard some of
+our brethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain
+to those who care about his health."
+
+"Oh, that," said Gounsovski, shaking his head, "is an affair I have
+nothing to do with.  Apply to Koupriane.  Your health, belle
+Annouchka."
+
+But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and
+the singers took everybody's attention, everybody excepting Prince
+Galitch and Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another,
+exchanged some words on the edge of all this musical uproar.  As
+for Rouletabille, he certainly must have been sleeping soundly not
+to have been waked by all that noise, melodious as it was.  It is
+true that be had - apparently - drunk a good deal and, as everyone
+knows, in Russia drink lays out those who can't stand it.  When
+the Bohemians had sung three times Gounsovski made a sign that they
+might go to charm other ears, and slipped into the hands of the
+chief of the band a twenty-five rouble note.  But Onoto wished to
+give her mite, and a regular collection commenced.  Each one threw
+roubles into the plate held out by a little swarthy Bohemian girl
+with crow-black hair, carelessly combed, falling over her forehead,
+her eyes and her face, in so droll a fashion that one would have
+said the little thing was a weeping-willow soaked in ink.  The
+plate reached Prince Galitch, who futilely searched his pockets.
+
+"Bah!" said he, with a lordly air, "I have no money.  But here is
+my pocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me,
+Katharina."
+
+Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince,
+but Annouchka said:
+
+"The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficiently
+repay the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty
+hut when I was in hiding, while your famous department was deciding
+what to do about me, my dear Gounsovski."
+
+"Eh," replied Gounsovski, "I let you know that all you had to do
+was to take a fine apartment in the city."
+
+Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsoyski from
+yellow turned green.
+
+"But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?" asked Onoto as
+she caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.
+
+"You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned.  I had
+been able to leave Moscow, and I hadn't any desire to be re-taken
+here and sent to taste the joys of Siberia."
+
+"But why were you condemned to death?"
+
+"Why, she doesn't know anything!  " exclaimed the others.
+
+"Good Lord, I'm just back from London and Paris - how should I know
+anything!  But to have been condemned to death!  That must have
+been amusing."
+
+"Very amusing," said Annouchka icily.  "And if you have a brother
+whom you love, Onoto, think how mnch more amusing it must be to
+have him shot before you."
+
+"Oh, my love, forgive me!"
+
+"So you may know and not give any pain to your Annouchka in the
+future, I will tell you, madame, what happened to our dear friend,"
+said Prince Galitch.
+
+"We would do better to drive away such terrible memories," ventured
+Gounsovski, lifting his eyelashes behind his glasses, but he bent
+his head as Annouchka sent him a blazing glance.
+
+"Speak, Galitch."
+
+The Prince did as she said.
+
+"Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line,
+whom the Strike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the
+only means of escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops
+when Trebassof's soldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had
+become masters of the city.  The last resistance took place at the
+station.  It was necessary to get started.  All the ways were
+guarded by the military.  There were soldiers everywhere!  Vlassof
+said to his comrades, 'I will save you;' and his comrades saw him
+mount the engine with a woman.  That woman was - well, there she
+sits.  Viassof's fireman had been killed the evening before, on a
+barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place.  They busied
+themselves and the train started like a shot.  On that curved line,
+discovered at once, easy to attack, under a shower of bullets,
+Vlassof developed a speed of ninety versts an hour.  He ran the
+indicator up to the explosion point.  The lady over there continued
+to pile coal into the furnace.  The danger came to be less from the
+military and more from an explosion at any moment.  In the midst of
+the balls Vlassof kept his usual coolness.  He sped not only with
+the firebox open but with the forced draught.  It was a miracle
+that the engine was not smashed against the curve of the embankment.
+But they got past.  Not a man was hurt.  Only a woman was wounded.
+She got a ball in the chest."
+
+"There!" cried Annouchka.
+
+With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving
+chest, and put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began
+to melt in heavy drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.
+
+"Fifteen days later," continued the prince, "Viassof entered an inn
+at Lubetszy.  He didn't know it was full of soldiers.  His face
+never altered.  They searched him.  They found a revolver and papers
+on him.  They knew whom they had to do with.  He was a good prize.
+Viassof was taken to Moscow and condemned to be shot.  His sister,
+wounded as she was, learned of his arrest and joined him.  'I do
+not wish,' she said to him, 'to leave you to die alone.'  She also
+was condemned.  Before the execution the soldiers offered to bandage
+their eyes, but both refused, saying they preferred to meet death
+face to face.  The orders were to shoot all the other condemned
+revolutionaries first, then Vlassof, then his sister.  It was in
+vain that Vlassof asked to die last.  Their comrades in execution
+sank to their knees, bleeding from their death wounds.  Vlassof
+embraced his sister and walked to the place of death.  There he
+addressed the soldiers: 'Now you have to carry out your duty
+according to the oath you have taken.  Fulfill it honestly as I
+have fulfilled mine.  Captain, give the order.' The volley
+sounded.  Vlassof remained erect, his arms crossed on his breast,
+safe and sound.  Not a ball had touched him.  The soldiers did not
+wish to fire at him.  He had to summon them again to fulfill their
+duty, and obey their chief.  Then they fired again, and he fell.
+He looked at his sister with his eyes full of horrible suffering.
+Seeing that he lived, and wishing to appear charitable, the captain,
+upon Annouchka's prayers, approached and cut short his sufferings
+by firing a revolver into his ear.  Now it was Annouchka's turn.
+She knelt by the body of her brother, kissed his bloody lips, rose
+and said, 'I am ready.'  As the guns were raised, an officer came
+running, bearing the pardon of the Tsar.  She did not wish it, and
+she whom they had not bound when she was to die had to be restrained
+when she learned she was to live."
+
+Prince Galitch, amid the anguished silence of all there, started to
+add some words of comment to his sinister recital, but Annouchka
+interrupted:
+
+"The story is ended," said she.  "Not a word, Prince.  If I asked
+you to tell it in all its horror, if I wished you to bring back to
+us the atrocious moment of my brother's death, it is so that
+monsieur" (her fingers pointed to Gounsovski) "shall know well,
+once for all, that if I have submitted for some hours now to this
+promiscuous company that has been imposed upon me, now that I have
+paid the debt by accepting this abominable supper, I have nothing
+more to do with this purveyor of bagnios and of hangman's ropes who
+is here."
+
+"She is mad," he muttered.  "She is mad.  What has come over her?
+What has happened?  Only to-day she was so, so amiable."
+
+And he stuttered, desolately, with an embarrassed laugh:
+
+"Ah, the women, the women!  Now what have I done to her?"
+
+"What have you done to me, wretch?  Where are Belachof, Bartowsky
+and Strassof?  And Pierre Slutch?  All the comrades who swore with
+me to revenge my brother?  Where are they?  On what gallows did you
+have them hung?  What mine have you buried them in?  And still you
+follow your slavish task.  And my friends, my other friends, the
+poor comrades of my artist life, the inoffensive young men who have
+not committed any other crime than to come to see me too often when
+I was lively, and who believed they could talk freely in my
+dressing-room - where are they?  Why have they left me, one by one?
+Why have they disappeared?   It is you, wretch, who watched them,
+who spied on them, making me, I haven't any doubt, your horrible
+accomplice, mixing me up in your beastly work, you dog!  You knew
+what they call me.  You have known it for a long time, and you may
+well laugh over it.   But I, I never knew until this evening; I
+never learned until this evening all I owe to you.  'Stool pigeon!
+Stool pigeon!'  I!  Horror!   Ah, you dog, you dog!  Your mother,
+when you were brought into the world, your mother ..."  Here she
+hurled at him the most offensive insult that a Russian can offer a
+man of that race.
+
+She trembled and sobbed with rage, spat in fury, and stood up ready
+to go, wrapped in her mantle like a great red flag.  She was the
+statue of hate and vengeance.  She was horrible and terrible.  She
+was beautiful.  At the final supreme insult, Gounsovski started
+and rose to his feet as though he had received an actual blow in
+the face.  He did not look at Annouchka, but fixed his eyes on
+Prince Galitch.  His finger pointed him out:
+
+"There is the man," he hissed, "who has told you all these fine
+things."
+
+"Yes, it is I," said the Prince, tranquilly.
+
+"Caracho!" barked Gounsovski, instantaneously regaining his coolness.
+
+"Ah, yes, but you'll not touch him," clamored the spirited girl of
+the Black Land; "you are not strong enough for that."
+
+"I know that monsieur has many friends at court," agreed the chief
+of the Secret Service with an ominous calm.  "I 'don't wish ill to
+monsieur.  You speak, madame, of the way some of your friends have
+had to be sacrificed.  I hope that some day you will be better
+informed, and that you will understand I saved all of them I could."
+
+"Let us go," muttered Annouchka.  "I shall spit in his face."
+
+"Yes, all I could," replied the other, with his habitual gesture of
+hanging on to his glasses.  "And I shall continue to do so.  I
+promise you not to say anything more disagreeable to the prince
+than as regards his little friend the Bohemian Katharina, whom he
+has treated so generously just now, doubtless because Boris
+Mourazoff pays her too little for the errands she runs each morning
+to the villa of Krestowsky Ostrow."
+
+At these words the Prince and Annouchka both changed countenance.
+Their anger rose.  Annouchka turned her head as though to arrange
+the folds of her cloak.  Galitch contented himself with shrugging
+his shoulders impatiently and murmuring:
+
+"Still some other abomination that you are concocting, monsieur,
+and that we don't know how to reply to."
+
+After which he bowed to the supper-party, took Annouchka's arm and
+had her move before him.  Gounsovski bowed, almost bent in two.
+When he rose he saw before him the three astounded and horrified
+figures of Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase
+Georgevitch.
+
+"Messieurs," he said to them, in a colorless voice which seemed not
+to belong to him, "the time has come for us to part.  I need not
+say that we have supped as friends and that, if you wish it to be
+so, we can forget everything that has been said here.
+
+The three others, frightened, at once protested their discretion.
+He added, roughly this time, "Service of the Tsar," and the three
+stammered, "God save the Tsar!"  After which he saw them to the
+door.  When the door had closed after them, he said, "My little
+Annouchka, you mustn't reckon without me."  He hurried toward the
+sofa, where Rouletabille was lying forgotten, and gave him a tap
+on the shoulder.
+
+"Come, get up.  Don't act as though you were asleep.  Not an instant
+to lose.  They are going to carry through the Trebassof affair this
+evening.
+
+Rouletabille was already on his legs.
+
+"Oh, monsieur," said he, "I didn't want you to tell me that.  Thanks
+all the same, and good evening."
+
+He went out.
+
+Gounsovski rang.  A servant appeared.
+
+"Tell them they may now open all the rooms on this corridor; I'll
+not hold them any longer."  Thus had Gounsovski kept himself
+protected.
+
+Left alone, the head of the Secret Service wiped his brow and drank
+a great glass of iced water which he emptied at a draught.  Then he
+said:
+
+"Koupriane will have his work cut out for him this evening; I wish
+him good luck.  As to them, whatever happens, I wash my hands of
+them."
+
+And he rubbed his hands.
+
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+
+At the door of the Krestowsky Rouletabille, who was in a hurry for
+a conveyance, jumped into an open carriage where la belle Onoto was
+already seated.  The dancer caught him on her knees.
+
+"To Eliaguine, fast as you can," cried the reporter for all
+explanation.
+
+"Scan!  Scan!  (Quickly, quickly)" repeated Onoto.
+
+She was accompanied by a vague sort of person to whom neither of
+them paid the least attention.
+
+"What a supper!  You waked up at last, did you?" quizzed the actress.
+But Rouletabille, standing up behind the enormous coachman, urged
+the horses and directed the route of the carriage.  They bolted
+along through the night at a dizzy pace.  At the corner of a bridge
+he ordered the horses stopped, thanked his companions and
+disappeared.
+
+"What a country!  What a country!  Caramba!" said the Spanish artist.
+
+The carriage waited a few minutes, then turned back toward the city.
+
+Rouletabille got down the embankment and slowly, taking infinite
+precautions not to reveal his presence by making the least noise,
+made his way to where the river is widest.  Seen through the
+blackness of the night the blacker mass of the Trebassof villa
+loomed like an enormous blot, he stopped.  Then he glided like a
+snake through the reeds, the grass, the ferns.  He was at the back
+of the villa, near the river, not far from the little path where
+he had discovered the passage of the assassin, thanks to the broken
+cobwebs.  At that moment the moon rose and the birch-trees, which
+just before had been like great black staffs, now became white
+tapers which seemed to brighten that sinister solitude.
+
+The reporter wished to profit at once by the sudden luminance to
+learn if his movements had been noticed and if the approaches to
+the villa on that side were guarded.  He picked up a small pebble
+and threw it some distance from him along the path.  At the
+unexpected noise three or four shadowy heads were outlined suddenly
+in the white light of the moon, but disappeared at once, lost again
+in the dark tufts of grass.
+
+He had gained his information.
+
+The reporter's acute ear caught a gliding in his direction, a slight
+swish of twigs; then all at once a shadow grew by his side and he
+felt the cold of a revolver barrel on his temple.  He said
+"Koupriane," and at once a hand seized his and pressed it.
+
+The night had become black again.  He murmured: "How is it you are
+here in person?"
+
+The Prefect of Police whispered in his ear:
+
+"I have been informed that something will happen to-night.  Natacha
+went to Krestowsky and exchanged some words with Annouchka there.
+Prince Galitch is involved, and it is an affair of State."
+
+"Natacha has returned?" inquired Rouletabille.
+
+"Yes, a long time ago.  She ought to be in bed. In any case she is
+pretending to be abed.  The light from her chamber, in the window
+over the garden, has been put out."
+
+"Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?"
+
+"Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out
+to-night."
+
+"That's a mistake.  I shouldn't have told her anything.  She will
+take such extra precautions that the others will be instantly
+warned."
+
+"I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this
+night, and that she must not leave the general's chamber."
+
+"That is perfect, if she will obey you."
+
+"You see I have profited by all your information.  I have followed
+your instructions.  The road from the Krestowsky is under
+surveillance."
+
+"Perhaps too much.  How are you planning?"
+
+"We will let them enter.  I don't know whom I have to deal with.
+I want to strike a sure blow.  I shall take him in the act.  No more
+doubt after this, you trust me."
+
+"Adieu."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To bed.  I have paid my debt to my host.  I have the right to some
+repose now.  Good luck!"
+
+But Koupriane had seized his hand.
+
+"Listen."
+
+With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water.
+If a boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and
+wished to remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen.
+A great black cloud covered the moon; the wind was light.  The boat
+would have time to get from one bank to the other without being
+discovered.  Rouletabille waited no longer.  On all-fours he ran
+like a beast, rapidly and silently, and rose behind the wall of the
+villa, where he made a turn, reached the gate, aroused the dvornicks
+and demanded Ermolai, who opened the gate for him.
+
+"The Barinia?" he said.
+
+Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.
+
+"Caracho!"
+
+Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself
+by his fingers to the window of Natacha's chamber, where he listened.
+He plainly heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber.  He fell
+back lightly onto his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the
+door, then closed it so lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from
+outside not two feet away, did not hear the slightest grinding of
+the hinges.  Inside the villa Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe.  He
+found the door of the drawing-room open.  The door of the
+sitting-room had not been closed, or else had been reopened.  He
+turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a chair and sat down,
+with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting for the events
+that would not delay long now.  Above he heard distinctly from time
+to time the movements of Matrena Petrovna.  And this would evidently
+give a sense of security to those who needed to have the ground-floor
+free this night.  Rouletabille imagined that the doors of the rooms
+on the ground-floor had been left open so that it would be easier
+for those who would be below to hear what was happening upstairs.
+And perhaps he was not wrong.
+
+Suddenly there was a vertical bar of pale light from the sitting-room
+that overlooked the Neva.  He deduced two things: first, that the
+window was already slightly open, then that the moon was out from
+the clouds again.  The bar of light died almost instantly, but
+Rouletabille's eyes, now used to the obscurity, still distinguished
+the open line of the window.  There the shade was less deep.
+Suddenly he felt the blood pound at his temples, for the line of the
+open window grew larger, increased, and the shadow of a man gradually
+rose on the balcony.  Rouletabille drew his revolver.
+
+The man stood up immediately behind one of the shutters and struck
+a light blow on the glass.  Placed as he was now he could be seen
+no more.  His shadow mixed with the shadow of the shutter.  At the
+noise on the glass Natacha's door had opened cautiously, and she
+entered the sitting-room.  On tiptoe she went quickly to the window
+and opened it.  The man entered.  The little light that by now was
+commencing to dawn was enough to show Rouletabille that Natacha
+still wore the toilette in which he had seen her that same evening
+at Krestowsky.  As for the man, he tried in vain to identify him;
+he was only a dark mass wrapped in a mantle.  He leaned over and
+kissed Natacha's hand.  She said only one word: "Scan!" (Quickly).
+
+But she had no more than said it before, under a vigorous attack,
+the shutters and the two halves of the window were thrown wide, and
+silent shadows jumped rapidly onto the balcony and sprang into the
+villa.  Natacha uttered a shrill cry in which Rouletabille believed
+still he heard more of despair than terror, and the shadows threw
+themselves on the man; but he, at the first alarm, had thrown
+himself upon the carpet and had slipped from them between their
+legs.  He regained the balcony and jumped from it as the others
+turned toward him.  At least, it was so that Rouletabille believed
+he saw the mysterious struggle go in the half-light, amid most
+impressive silence, after that frightened cry of Natacha's.  The
+whole affair had lasted only a few seconds, and the man was still
+hanging over the balcony, when from the bottom of the hall a new
+person sprang.  It was Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Warned by Koupriane that something would happen that night, and
+foreseeing that it would happen on the ground-floor where she was
+forbidden to be, she had found nothing better to do than to make
+her faithful maid go secretly to the bedroom floor, with orders to
+walk about there all night, to make all think she herself was near
+the general, while she remained below, hidden in the dining-room.
+
+Matrena Petrovna now threw herself out onto the balcony, crying in
+Russian, "Shoot!  Shoot!"  In just that moment the man was hesitating
+whether to risk the jump and perhaps break his neck, or descend less
+rapidly by the gutter-pipe.  A policeman fired and missed him, and
+the man, after firing back and wounding the policeman, disappeared.
+It was still too far from dawn for them to see clearly what happened
+below, where the barking of Brownings alone was heard.  And there
+could be nothing more sinister than the revolver-shots unaccompanied
+by cries in the mists of the morning.  The man, before he
+disappeared, had had only time by a quick kick to throw down one of
+the two ladders which had been used by the police in climbing; down
+the other one all the police in a bunch, even to the wounded one,
+went sliding, falling, rising, running after the shadow which fled
+still, discharging the Browning steadily; other shadows rose from
+the river-bank, hovering in the mist.  Suddenly Koupniane's voice
+was heard shouting orders, calling upon his agents to take the
+quarry alive or dead.  From the balcony Matrena Petrovna cried out
+also, like a savage, and Rouletabille tried in vain to keep her
+quiet.  She was delirious at the thought "The Other" might escape
+yet.  She fired a revolver, she also, into the group, not knowing
+whom she might wound.   Rouletabille grabbed her arm and as she
+turned on him angrily she observed Natacha, who, leaning until she
+almost fell over the balcony, her lips trembling with delirious
+utterance, followed as well as she could the progress of the
+struggle, trying to understand what happened below, under the trees,
+near the Neva, where the tumult by now extended.  Matrena Petrovna
+pulled her back by the arms.  Then she took her by the neck and
+threw her into the drawing-room in a heap.  When she had almost
+strangled her step-daughter, Matrena Petrovna saw that the general
+was there.  He appeared in the pale glimmerings of dawn like a
+specter.  By what miracle had Feodor Feodorovitch been able to
+descend the stairs and reach there?  How had it been brought about?
+She saw him tremble with anger or with wretchedness under the folds
+of the soldier's cape that floated about him.  He demanded in a
+hoarse voice, "What is it?"
+
+Matrena Petrovna threw herself at his feet, made the orthodox sign
+of the Cross, as if she wished to summon God to witness, and then,
+pointing to Natacha, she denounced his daughter to her husband as
+she would have pointed her out to a judge.
+
+"The one, Feodor Feodorovitch, who has wished more than once to
+assassinate you, and who this night has opened the datcha to your
+assassin is your daughter."
+
+The general held himself up by his two hands against the wall, and,
+looking at Matrena and Natacha, who now were both upon the floor
+before him like suppliants, he said to Matrena:
+
+"It is you who assassinate me."
+
+"Me!  By the living God!" babbled Matrena Petrovna desperately.
+"If I had been able to keep this from you, Jesus would have been
+good!  But I say no more to crucify you.  Feodor Feodorovitch,
+question your daughter, and if what I have said is not true, kill
+me, kill me as a lying, evil beast.  I will say thank you, thank
+you, and I will die happier than if what I have said was true.  Ah,
+I long to be dead!  I Kill me!"
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch pushed her back with his stick as one would
+push a worm in his path.  Without saying anything further, she rose
+from her knees and looked with her haggard eyes, with her crazed
+face, at Rouletabille, who grasped her arm.  If she had had her
+hands still free she would not have hesitated a second in wreaking
+justice upon herself under this bitter fate of alienating Feodor.
+And it seemed frightful to Rouletabille that he should be present
+at one of those horrible family dramas the issue of which in the
+wild times of Peter the Great would have sent the general to the
+hangman either as a father or as a husband.
+
+The general did not deign even to consider for any length of time
+Matrena's delirium.  He said to his daughter, who shook with sobs
+on the floor, "Rise, Natacha Feodorovna."  And Feodor's daughter
+understood that her father never would believe in her guilt.  She
+drew herself up towards him and kissed his hands like a happy slave.
+
+At this moment repeated blows shook the veranda door.  Matrena, the
+watch-dog, anxious to die after Feodor's reproach, but still at her
+post, ran toward what she believed to be a new danger.  But she
+recognized Koupriane's voice, which called on her to open.  She let
+him in herself.
+
+"What is it?" she implored.
+
+"Well, he is dead."
+
+A cry answered him.  Natacha had heard.
+
+"But who - who - who?" questioned Matrena breathlessly.
+
+Koupriane went over to Feodor and grasped his hands.
+
+"General," he said, "there was a man who had sworn your ruin and
+who was made an instrument by your enemies.  We have just killed
+that man."
+
+"Do I know him?" demanded Feodor.
+
+"He is one of your friends, you have treated him like a son."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"Ask your daughter, General."
+
+Feodor turned toward Natacha, who burned Koupriane with her gaze,
+trying to learn what this news was he brought - the truth or a ruse.
+
+"You know the man who wished to kill me, Natacha?"
+
+"No," she replied to her father, in accents of perfect fury.  "No,
+I don't know any such man."
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Koupriane, in a firm, terribly hostile voice,
+"you have yourself, with your own hands, opened that window to-night;
+and you have opened it to him many other times besides.  While
+everyone else here does his duty and watches that no person shall be
+able to enter at night the house where sleeps General Trebassof,
+governor of Moscow, condemned to death by the Central Revolutionary
+Committee now reunited at Presnia, this is what you do; it is you
+who introduce the enemy into this place."
+
+"Answer, Natacha; tell me, yes or no, whether you have let anybody
+into this house by night."
+
+"Father, it is true."
+
+Feodor roared like a lion:
+
+"His name!"
+
+"Monsieur will tell you himself," said Natacha, in a voice thick
+with terror, and she pointed to Koupriane.  "Why does he not tell
+you himself the name of that person?  He must know it, if the man
+is dead."
+
+"And if the man is not dead," replied Feodor, who visibly held onto
+himself, "if that man, whom you helped to enter my house this night,
+has succeeded in escaping, as you seem to hope, will you tell us his
+name?"
+
+"I could not tell it, Father."
+
+"And if I prayed you to do so?"
+
+Natacha desperately shook her head.
+
+"And if I order you?"
+
+"You can kill me, Father, but I will not pronounce that name."
+
+"Wretch!"
+
+He raised his stick toward her.  Thus Ivan the Terrible had killed
+his son with a blow of his boar-spear.
+
+But Natacha, instead of bowing her head beneath the blow that
+menaced her, turned toward Koupriane and threw at him in accents of
+triumph:
+
+"He is not dead.  If you bad succeeded in taking him, dead or alive,
+you would already have his name."
+
+Koupriane took two steps toward her, put his hand on her shoulder
+and said:
+
+"Michael Nikolajevitch."
+
+"Michael Korsakoff!" cried the general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, as if revolted by that suggestion, stood upright
+to repeat:
+
+"Michael Korsakoff!"
+
+The general could not believe his ears, and was about to protest
+when he noticed that his daughter had turned away and was trying to
+flee to her room.  He stopped her with a terrible gesture.
+
+"Natacha, you are going to tell us what Michael Korsakoff came here
+to do to-night."
+
+"Feodor Feodorovitch, he came to poison you."
+
+It was Matrena who spoke now and whom nothing could have kept silent,
+for she saw in Natacha's attempt at flight the most sinister
+confession.  Like a vengeful fury she told over with cries and
+terrible gestures what she had experienced, as if once more stretched
+before her the hand armed with the poison, the mysterious hand above
+the pillow of her poor invalid, her dear, rigorous tyrant; she told
+them about the preceding night and all her terrors, and from her
+lips, by her voluble staccato utterance that ominous recital had
+grotesque emphasis.  Finally she told all that she had done, she
+and the little Frenchman, in order not to betray their suspicions
+to The Other, in order to take finally in their own trap all those
+who for so many days and nights schemed for the death of Feodor
+Feodorovitch.  As she ended she pointed out Rouletabille to Feodor
+and cried, "There is the one who has saved you."
+
+Natacha, as she listened to this tragic recital, restrained herself
+several times in order not to interrupt, and Rouletabille, who was
+watching her closely, saw that she had to use almost superhuman
+efforts in order to achieve that.  All the horror of what seemed to
+be to her as well as to Feodor a revelation of Michael's crime did
+not subdue her, but seemed, on the contrary, to restore to her in
+full force all the life that a few seconds earlier had fled from her.
+Matrena had hardly finished her cry, " There is the one who has
+saved you," before Natacha cried in her turn, facing the reporter
+with a look full of the most frightful hate, "There is the one who
+has heen the death of an innocent man!"  She turned to her father.
+"Ah, papa, let me, let me say that Michael Nikolaievitch, who came
+here this evening, I admit, and whom, it is true, I let into the
+house, tbat Michael Nikolaievitch did not come here yesterday, and
+that the man who has tried to poison you is certainly someone else."
+
+At these words Rouletabille turned pale, but he did not let himself
+lose self-control.  He replied simply:
+
+"No, mademoiselle, it was the same man."
+
+And Koupriane felt compelled to add:
+
+"Anyway, we have found the proof of Michael Nikolaievitch's relations
+with the revolutionaries."
+
+"Where have you found that?" questioned the young girl, turning
+toward the Chief of Police a face ravished with anguish.
+
+"At Krestowsky, mademoiselle."
+
+She looked a long time at him as though she would penetrate to the
+bottom of his thoughts.
+
+"What proofs?" she implored.
+
+"A correspondence which we have placed under seal."
+
+"Was it addressed to him? What kind of correspondence?"
+
+"If it interests you, we will open it before you."
+
+"My God!  My God!" she gasped.  "Where have you found this
+correspondence?  Where?  Tell me where!"
+
+"I will tell you.  `At the villa, in his chamber.  We forced the
+lock of his bureau."
+
+She seemed to breathe again, but her father took her brutally by
+the arm.
+
+"Come, Natacha, you are going to tell us what that man was doing
+here to-night."
+
+"In her chamber!" cried Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Natacha turned toward Matrena:
+
+"What do you believe, then? Tell me now."
+
+"And I, what ought I to believe?" muttered Feodor.  "You have not
+told me yet.  You did not know that man had relations with my
+enemies.  You are innocent of that, perhaps.  I wish to think so.
+I wish it, in the name of Heaven I wish it.  But why did you
+receive him?  Why?  Why did you bring him in here, as a robber
+or as a..."
+
+"Oh, papa, you know that I love Boris, that I love him with all my
+heart, and that I would never belong to anyone but him."
+
+"Then, then, then.  - speak!"
+
+The young girl had reached the crisis.
+
+"Ah, Father, Father, do not question me!  You, you above all, do
+not question me now.  I can say nothing!  There is nothing I can
+tell you.  Excepting that I am sure - sure, you understand - that
+Michael Nikolaievitch did not come here last night."
+
+"He did come," insisted Rouletabille in a slightly troubled voice.
+
+"He came here with poison.  He came here to poison your father,
+Natacha," moaned Matrena Petrovna, who twined her hands in gestures
+of sincere and naive tragedy.
+
+"And I," replied the daughter of Feodor ardently, with an accent of
+conviction which made everyone there vibrate, and particularly
+Rouletabille, "and I, I tell you it was not he, that it was not he,
+that it could not possibly be he.  I swear to you it was another,
+another."
+
+"But then, this other, did you let him in as well?" said Koupriane.
+
+"Ah, yes, yes.  It was I.  It was I.  It was I who left the window
+and blinds open.  Yes, it is I who did that.  But I did not wait for
+the other, the other who came to assassinate.  As to Michael
+Nikolaievitch, I swear to you, my father, by all that is most sacred
+in heaven and on earth, that he could not have committed the crime
+that you say.  And now - kill me, for there is nothing more I can
+say."
+
+"The poison," replied Koupriane coldly, "the poison that he poured
+into the general's potion was that arsenate of soda which was on
+the grapes the Marshal of the Court brought here.  Those grapes
+were left by the Marshal, who warned Michael Nikolaievitch and
+Boris Alexandrovitch to wash them.  The grapes disappeared.  If
+Michael is innocent, do you accuse Boris?"
+
+Natacha, who seemed to have suddenly lost all power for defending
+herself, moaned, begged, railed, seemed dying.
+
+"No, no.  Don't accuse Boris.  He has nothing to do with it.  Don't
+accuse Michael.  Don't accuse anyone so long as you don't know.  But
+these two are innocent.  Believe me.  Believe me.  Ah, how shall I
+say it, how shall I persuade you!  I am not able to say anything to
+you.  And you have killed Michael.  Ah, what have you done, what
+have you done!"
+
+"We have suppressed a man," said the icy voice of Koupriane, "who
+was merely the agent for the base deeds of Nihilism."
+
+She succeeded in recovering a new energy that in her depths of
+despair they would have supposed impossible.  She shook her fists
+at Koupriane:
+
+"It is not true, it is not true.  These are slanders, infamies!  The
+inventions of the police!  Papers devised to incriminate him.  There
+is nothing at all of what you said you found at his house.  It is
+not possible.  It is not true."
+
+"Where are those papers?" demanded the curt voice of Feodor.  "Bring
+them here at once, Koupriane; I wish to see them."
+
+Koupriane was slightly troubled, and this did not escape Natacha,
+who cried:
+
+"Yes, yes, let him give us them, let him bring them if he has them.
+But he hasn't," she clamored with a savage joy.  "He has nothing.
+You can see, papa, that he has nothing.  He would already have
+brought them out.  He has nothing.  I tell you he has nothing.  Ah,
+he has nothing!  He has nothing!"
+
+And she threw herself on the floor, weeping, sobbing,  "He has
+nothing, he has nothing!"  She seemed to weep for joy.
+
+"Is that true?" demanded Feodor Feodorovitch, with his most somber
+manner.  "Is it true, Koupriane, that you have nothing?"
+
+"It is true, General, that we have found nothing.  Everything had
+already been carried away."
+
+But Natacha uttered a veritable torrent of glee:
+
+"He has found nothing!  Yet he accuses him of being allied with the
+revolutionaries.  Why?  Why? Because I let him in?  But I, am I a
+revolutionary?  Tell me.  Have I sworn to kill papa?  I?  I?  Ah, he
+doesn't know what to say.  You see for yourself, papa, he is silent.
+He has lied.  He has lied."
+
+"Why have you made this false statement, Koupriane?"
+
+"Oh, we have suspected Michael for some time, and truly, after what
+has just happened, we cannot have any doubt."
+
+"Yes, but you declared you had papers, and you have not.  That is
+abominable procedure, Koupriane," replied Feodor sternly.  "I have
+heard you condemn such expedients many times."
+
+"General!  We are sure, you hear, we are absolutely sure that the
+man who tried to poison you yesterday and the man to-day who is
+dead are one and the same."
+
+"And what reason have you for being so sure?  It is necessary to
+tell it," insisted the general, who trembled with distress and
+impatience.
+
+"Yes, let him tell now."
+
+"Ask monsieur," said Koupriane.
+
+They all turned to Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter replied, affecting a coolness that perhaps he did not
+entirely feel:
+
+"I am able to state to you, as I already have before Monsieur the
+Prefect of Police, that one, and only one, person has left the
+traces of his various climbings on the wall and on the balcony."
+
+"Idiot!" interrupted Natacha, with a passionate disdain for the
+young man.  "And that satisfies you?"
+
+The general roughly seized the reporter's wrist:
+
+"Listen to me, monsieur.  A man came here this night.  That concerns
+only me.  No one has any right to be astonished excepting myself.  I
+make it my own affair, an affair between my daughter and me.  But
+you, you have just told us that you are sure that man is an assassin.
+Then, you see, that calls for something else.  Proofs are necessary,
+and I want the proofs at once.  You speak of traces; very well, we
+will go and examine those traces together.  And I wish for your sake,
+monsieur, that I shall be as convinced by them as you are."
+
+Rouletabille quietly disengaged his wrist and replied with perfect
+calm:
+
+"Now, monsieur, I am no longer able to prove anything to you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because the ladders of the police agents have wiped out all my
+proofs, monsieur.
+
+"So now there remains for us only your word, only your belief in
+yourself.  And if you are mistaken?"
+
+"He would never admit it, papa," cried Natacha.  "Ah, it is he who
+deserves the fate Michael Nikolaievitch has met just now.  Isn't it
+so?  Don't you know it? And that will be your eternal remorse!  Isn't
+there something that always keeps you from admitting that you are
+mistaken?  You have had an innocent man killed.  Now, you know well
+enough, you know well that I would not have admitted Michael
+Nikolaievitch here if I had believed he was capable of wishing to
+poison my father."
+
+"Mademoiselle," replied Rouletabille, not lowering his eyes under
+Natacha's thunderous regard, "I am sure of that."
+
+He said it in such a tone that Natacha continued to look at him
+with incomprehensible anguish in her eyes.  Ah, the baffling of
+those two regards, the mute scene between those two young people,
+one of whom wished to make himself understood and the other afraid
+beyond all other things of being thoroughly understood.  Natacha
+murmured:
+
+"How he looks at me!  See, he is the demon; yes, yes, the little
+domovoi, the little domovoi.  But look out, poor wretch; you don't
+know what you have done."
+
+She turned brusquely toward Koupriane:
+
+"Where is the body of Michael Nikolaievitch?" said she.  "I wish to
+see it.  I must see it."
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch had fallen, as though asleep, upon a chair.
+Matrena Petrovna dared not approach him.  The giant appeared hurt
+to the death, disheartened forever.  What neither bombs, nor bullets,
+nor poison had been able to do, the single idea of his daughter's
+co-operation in the work of horror plotted about him - or rather
+the impossibility he faced of understanding Natacha's attitude, her
+mysterious conduct, the chaos of her explanations, her insensate
+cries, her protestations of innocence, her accusations, her menaces,
+her prayers and all her disorder, the avowed fact of her share in
+that tragic nocturnal adventure where Michael Nikolaievitch found
+his death, had knocked over Feodor Feodorovitch like a straw.  One
+instant he sought refuge in some vague hope that Koupriane was less
+assured than he pretended of the orderly's guilt.  But that, after
+all, was only a detail of no importance in his eyes.  What alone
+mattered was the significance of Natacha's act, and the unhappy
+girl seemed not to be concerned over what he would think of it.
+She was there to fight against Koupriane, Rouletabille and Matrena
+Petrovna, defending her Michael Nikolajevitch, while he, the father,
+after having failed to overawe her just now, was there in a corner
+suffering agonizedly.
+
+Koupriane walked over to him and said:
+
+"Listen to me carefully, Feodor Feodorovitch.  He who speaks to you
+is Head of the Police by the will of the Tsar, and your friend by
+the grace of God.  If you do not demand before us, who are acquainted
+with all that has happened and who know how to keep any necessary
+secret, if you do not demand of your daughter the reason for her
+conduct with Michael Nikolaievitch, and if she does not tell you
+in all sincerity, there is nothing more for me to do here.  My men
+have already been ordered away from this house as unworthy to guard
+the most loyal subject of His Majesty; I have not protested, but
+now I in my turn ask you to prove to me that the most dangerous
+enemy you have had in your house is not your daughter."
+
+These words, which summed up the horrible situation, came as a
+relief for Feodor.  Yes, they must know.  Koupriane was right.  She
+must speak.  He ordered his daughter to tell everything, everything.
+
+Natacha fixed Koupriane again with her look of hatred to the death,
+turned from him and repeated in a firm voice:
+
+"I have nothing to say."
+
+"There is the accomplice of your assassins," growled Koupriane then,
+his arm extended.
+
+Natacha uttered a cry like a wounded beast and fell at her father's
+feet.  She gathered them within her supplicating arms.  She pressed
+them to her breasts.  She sobbed from the bottom of her heart.  And
+he, not comprehending, let her lie there, distant, hostile, somber.
+Then she moaned, distractedly, and wept bitterly, and the dramatic
+atmosphere in which she thus suddenly enveloped Feodor made it all
+sound like those cries of an earlier time when the all-powerful,
+punishing father appeared in the women's apartments to punish the
+culpable ones.
+
+"My father!  Dear Father!  Look at me!  Look at me!  Have pity on
+me, and do not require me to speak when I must be silent forever.
+And believe me!  Do not believe these men!  Do not believe Matrena
+Petrovna.  And am I not your daughter? Your very own daughter!  Your
+Natacha Feodorovna!  I cannot make things dear to you.  No, no, by
+the Holy Virgin Mother of Jesus I cannot explain.  By the holy ikons,
+it is because I must not.  By my mother, whom I have not known and
+whose place you have taken, oh, my father, ask me nothing more!
+Ask me nothing more!  But take me in your arms as you did when I
+was little; embrace me, dear father; love me.  I never have had such
+need to be loved.  Love me!  I am miserable.  Unfortunate me, who
+cannot even kill myself before your eyes to prove my innocence and
+my love.  Papa, Papa!  What will your arms be for in the days left
+you to live, if you no longer wish to press me to your heart? Papa!
+Papa!"
+
+She laid her head on Feodor's knees.  Her hair had come down and
+hung about her in a magnificent disorderly mass of black.
+
+"Look in my eyes!  Look in my eyes!  See how they love you,
+Batouchka!  Batouchka!  My dear Batouchka!"
+
+Then Feodor wept.  His great tears fell upon Natacha's tears.  He
+raised her head and demanded simply in a broken voice:
+
+"You can tell me nothing now?  But when will you tell me?"
+
+Natacha lifted her eyes to his, then her look went past him toward
+heaven, and from her lips came just one word, in a sob:
+
+"Never."
+
+Matrena Petrovna, Koupriane and the reporter shuddered before the
+high and terrible thing that happened then.  Feodor had taken his
+daughter's face between his hands.  He looked long at those eyes
+raised toward heaven, the mouth which had just uttered the word
+"Never," then, slowly, his rude lips went to the tortured, quivering
+lips of the girl.  He held her close.  She raised her head wildly,
+triumphantly, and cried, with arm extended toward Matrena Petrovna:
+
+"He believes me!  He believes me!  And you would have believed me
+also if you had been my real mother."
+
+Her head fell back and she dropped unconscious to the floor.  Feodor
+fell to his knees, tending her, deploring her, motioning the others
+out of the room.
+
+"Go away!  All of you, go!  All!  You, too, Matrena Petrovna.  Go
+away!"
+
+They disappeared, terrified by his savage gesture.
+
+In the little datcha across the river at Krestowsky there was a
+body.  Secret Service agents guarded it while they waited for their
+chief.  Michael Nikolaievitch had come there to die, and the police
+had reached him just at his last breath.  They were behind him as,
+with the death-rattle in his throat, he pulled himself into his
+chamber and fell in a heap.  Katharina the Bohemian was there.  She
+bent her quick-witted, puzzled head over his death agony.  The
+police swarmed everywhere, ransacking, forcing locks, pulling
+drawers from the bureau and tables, emptying the cupboards.  Their
+search took in everything, even to ripping the mattresses, and not
+respecting the rooms of Boris Mourazoff, who was away this night.
+They searched thoroughly, but they found absolutely nothing they
+were looking for in Michael's rooms.  But they accumulated a
+multitude of publications that belonged to Boris: Western books,
+essays on political economy, a history of the French Revolution,
+and verses that a man ought to hang for.  They put them all under
+seal.  During the search Michael died in Katharina's arms.  She
+had held him close, after opening his clothes over the chest,
+doubtless to make his last breaths easier.  The unfortunate officer
+had received a bullet at the back of the head just after he had
+plunged into the Neva from the rear of the Trebassof datcha and
+started to swim across.  It was a miracle that he had managed to
+keep going.  Doubtless he hoped to die in peace if only he could
+reach his own house.  He apparently had believed he could manage
+that once he had broken through his human bloodhounds.  He did not
+know he was recognized and his place of retreat therefore known.
+
+Now the police had gone from cellar to garret.  Koupriane came from
+the Trebassof villa and joined them, Rouletabille followed him.
+The reporter could not stand the sight of that body, that still had
+a lingering warmth, of the great open eyes that seemed to stare at
+him, reproaching him for this violent death.  He turned away in
+distaste, and perhaps a little in fright.  Koupriane caught the
+movement.
+
+"Regrets?" he queried.
+
+"Yes," said Rouletabille.  "A death always must be regretted.  None
+the less, he was a criminal.  But I'm sincerely sorry he died before
+he had been driven to confess, even though we are sure of it."
+
+"Being in the pay of the Nihilists, you mean?  That is still your
+opinion?" asked Koupriane.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You know that nothing has been found here in his rooms.  The only
+compromising papers that have been found belong to Boris Mourazoff."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Oh - nothing."
+
+Koupriane questioned his men further.  They replied categorically.
+No, nothing had been found that directly incriminated anybody; and
+suddenly Rouletabille noted that the conversation of the police and
+their chief had grown more animated.  Koupriane had become angry
+and was violently reproaching them.  They excused themselves with
+vivid gesture and rapid speech.
+
+Koupriane started away.  Rouletabille followed him.  What had
+happened?
+
+As he came up behind Koupriane, he asked the question.  In a few
+curt words, still hurrying on, Koupriane told the reporter he had
+just learned that the police had left the little Bohemian Katharina
+alone for a moment with the expiring officer.  Katharina acted as
+housekeeper for Michael and Boris.  She knew the secrets of them
+both.  The first thing any novice should have known was to keep a
+constant eye upon her, and now no one knew where she was.  She must
+be searched for and found at once, for she had opened Michael's
+shirt, and therein probably lay the reason that no papers were found
+on the corpse when the police searched it.  The absence of papers,
+of a portfolio, was not natural.
+
+The chase commenced in the rosy dawn of the isles.  Already
+blood-like tints were on the horizon.  Some of the police cried
+that they had the trail.  They ran under the trees, because it was
+almost certain she had taken the narrow path leading to the bridge
+that joins Krestowsky to Kameny-Ostrow.  Some indications discovered
+by the police who swarmed to right and left of the path confirmed
+this hypothesis.  And no carriage in sight!  They all ran on,
+Koupriane among the first.  Rouletabille kept at his heels, but he
+did not pass him.  Suddenly there were cries and calls among the
+police.  One pointed out something below gliding upon the sloping
+descent.  It was little Kathanna.  She flew like the wind, but in
+a distracted course.  She had reached Kameny-Ostrow on the west
+bank.  "Oh, for a carriage, a horse!" clamored Koupriane, who had
+left his turn-out at Eliaguine.  "The proof is there.  It is the
+final proof of everything that is escaping us!"
+
+Dawn was enough advanced now to show the ground clearly.  Katharina
+was easily discernible as she reached the Eliaguine bridge.  There
+she was in Eliaguine-Ostrow.  What was she doing there? Was she
+going to the Trebassof villa?  What would she have to say to them?
+No, she swerved to the right.  The police raced behind her.  She
+was still far ahead, and seemed untiring.  Then she disappeared
+among the trees, in the thicket, keeping still to the right.
+Koupriane gave a cry of joy.  Going that way she must be taken.  He
+gave some breathless orders for the island to be barred.  She could
+not escape now!  She could not escape!  But where was she going?
+Koupriane knew that island better than anybody.  He took a short
+cut to reach the other side, toward which Katharina seemed to be
+heading, and all at once he nearly fell over the girl, who gave a
+squawk of surprise and rushed away, seeming all arms and legs.
+
+"Stop, or I fire!" cried Koupriane, and he drew his revolver.  But
+a hand grabbed it from him.
+
+"Not that!" said Rouletabille, as be threw the revolver far from
+them.  Koupriane swore at him and resumed the chase.  His fury
+multiplied his strength, his agility; he almost reached Katharina,
+who was almost out of breath, but Rouletabille threw himself into
+the Chief's arms and they rolled together upon the grass.  When
+Koupriane rose, it was to see Katharina mounting in mad haste the
+stairs that led to the Barque, the floating restaurant of the
+Strielka.  Cursing Rouletabille, but believing his prey easily
+captured now, the Chief in his turn hurried to the Barque, into
+which Katharina had disappeared.  He reached the bottom of the
+stairs.  On the top step, about to descend from the festive place,
+the form of Prince Galltch appeared.  Koupriane received the sight
+like a blow stopping him short in his ascent.  Galitch had an
+exultant air which Koupriane did not mistake.  Evidently he had
+arrived too late.  He felt the certainty of it in profound
+discouragement.  And this appearance of the prince on the Barque
+explained convincingly enough the reason for Katharina's flight
+here.
+
+If the Bohemian had filched the papers or the portfolio from the
+dead, it was the prince now who had them in his pocket.
+
+Koupriane, as he saw the prince about to pass him, trembled.  The
+prince saluted him and ironically amused himself by inquiring:
+
+"Well, well, how do you do, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.  Your
+Excellency has risen in good time this morning, it seems to me.
+Or else it is I who start for bed too late."
+
+"Prince," said Koupriane, "my men are in pursuit of a little Bohemian
+named Katharina, well known in the restaurants where she sings.  We
+have seen her go into the Barque.  Have you met her by any chance?"
+
+"Good Lord, Monsieur Koupriane, I am not the concierge of the Barque,
+and I have not noticed anything at all, and nobody.  Besides, I am
+naturally a little sleepy.  Pardon me."
+
+"Prince, it is not possible that you have not seen Katharina."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur the Prefect of Police, if I had seen her I would not
+tell you about it, since you are pursuing her.  Do you take me for
+one of your bloodhounds?  They say you have them in all classes,
+but I insist that I haven't enlisted yet.  You have made a mistake,
+Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+The prince saluted again.  But Koupriane still stood in his way.
+
+"Prince, consider that this matter is very serious.  Michael
+Nikolaievitch, General Trebassof's orderly, is dead, and this
+little girl has stolen his papers from his body.  All persons who
+have spoken with Katharina will be under suspicion.  This is an
+affair of State, monsieur, which may reach very far.  Can you
+swear to me that you have not seen, that you have not spoken to
+Katharina?"
+
+The prince looked at Koupriane so insolently that the Prefect turned
+pale with rage.  Ah, if he were able - if he only dared!  - but such
+men as this were beyond him.  Galitch walked past him without a word
+of answer, and ordered the schwitzar to call him a carriage.
+
+"Very well," said Koupriane, "I will make my report to the Tsar."
+
+Galitch turned.  He was as pale as Koupriane.
+
+"In that case, monsieur," said he, "don't forget to add that I am
+His Majesty's most humble servant."
+
+The carriage drew up.  The prince stepped in.  Koupriane watched
+him roll away, raging at heart and with his fists doubled.  Just
+then his men came up.
+
+"Go.  Search," he said roughiy, pointing into the Barque.
+
+They scattered through the establishment, entering all the rooms.
+Cries of irritation and of protest arose.  Those lingering after
+the latest of late suppers were not pleased at this invasion of the
+police.  Everybody had to rise while the police looked under the
+tables, the benches, the long table-cloths.  They went into the
+pantries and down into the bold.  No sign of Katharina.  Suddenly
+Koupriane, who leaned against a netting and looked vaguely out upon
+the horizon, waiting for the outcome of the search, got a start.
+Yonder, far away on the other side of the river, between a little
+wood and the Staria Derevnia, a light boat drew to the shore, and a
+little black spot jumped from it like a flea.  Koupriane recognized
+the little black spot as Kathanna.  She was safe.  Now he could not
+reach her.  It would be useless to search the maze of the Bohemian
+quarter, where her country-people lived in full control, with
+customs and privileges that had never been infringed.  The entire
+Bohemian population of the capital would have risen against him.
+It was Prince Galitch who had made him fail.  One of his men came
+to him:
+
+"No luck," said he.  "We have not found Katharina, but she has been
+here nevertheless.  She met Prince Galitch for just a minute, and
+gave him something, then went over the other side into a canoe."
+
+"Very well," and the Prefect shrugged his shoulders.  "I was sure of
+it."
+
+He felt more and more, exasperated.  He went down along the river
+edge and the first person he saw was Rouletabille, who waited for
+him without any impatience, seated philosophically on a bench.
+
+"I was looking for you," cried the Prefect.  "We have failed.  By
+your fault!  If you had not thrown yourself into my arms -"
+
+"I did it on purpose," declared the reporter.
+
+"What!  What is that you say? You did it on purpose?"
+
+Koupriane choked with rage.
+
+"Your Excellency," said Rouletabille, taking him by the arm, "calm
+yourself.  They are watching us.  Come along and have a cup of tea
+at Cubat's place.  Easy now, as though we were out for a walk."
+
+"Will you explain to me?"
+
+"No, no, Your Excellency.  Remember that I have promised you General
+Trebassof's life in exchange for your prisoner's.  Very well; by
+throwing myself in your arms and keeping you from reaching Katharina,
+I saved the general's life.  It is very simple."
+
+"Are you laughing at me?  Do you think you can mock me?"
+
+But the prefect saw quickly that Rouletabille was not fooling and
+had no mockery in his manner.
+
+"Monsieur," he insisted, "since you speak seriously, I certainly
+wish to understand -"
+
+"It is useless," said Rouletabille.  "It is very necessary that you
+should not understand."
+
+"But at least..."
+
+"No, no, I can't tell you anything."
+
+"When, then, will you tell me something to explain your unbelievable
+conduct?"
+
+Rouletabille stopped in his tracks and declared solemnly:
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, recall what Natacha Feodorovna as she raised her
+lovely eyes to heaven, replied to her father, when he, also, wished
+to understand:  'Never.'"
+
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE POISON CONTINUE5
+
+At ten o'clock that morning Rouletabille went to the Trebassof
+villa, which had its guard of secret agents again, a double guard,
+because Koupriane was sure the Nihilists would not delay in avenging
+Michael's death.  Rouletabille was met by Ermolai, who would not
+allow him to enter.  The faithful servant uttered some explanation
+in Russian, which the young man did not understand, or, rather,
+Rouletabille understood perfectly from his manner that henceforth
+the door of the villa was closed to him.  In vain he insisted on
+seeing the general, Matrena Petrovna and Mademoiselle Natacha.
+Ermolai made no reply but "Niet, niet, niet."  The reporter turned
+away without having seen anyone, and walked away deeply depressed. 
+He went afoot clear into the city, a long promenade, during which
+his brain surged with the darkest forebodings.  As he passed by the
+Department of Police he resolved to see Koupriane again.  He went
+in, gave his name, and was ushered at once to the Chief of Police,
+whom he found bent over a long report that he was reading through
+with noticeable agitation.
+
+"Gounsovski has sent me this," he said in a rough voice, pointing
+to the report.  "Gounsovski, 'to do me a service,' desires me to
+know that he is fully aware of all that happened at the Trebassof
+datcha last night.  He warns me that the revolutionaries have
+decided to get through with the general at once, and that two of
+them have been given the mission to enter the datcha in any way
+possible.  They will have bombs upon their bodies and will blow
+the bombs and themselves up together as soon as they are beside the
+general.  Who are the two victims designated for this horrible
+vengeance, and who have light-heartedly accepted such a death for
+themselves as well as for the general?  That is what we don't know.
+That is what we would have known, perhaps, if you had not prevented
+me from seizing the papers that Prince Galitch has now," Koupriane
+finished, turning hostilely toward Rouletabille.
+
+Rouletabille had turned pale.
+
+"Don't regret what happened to the papers," he said.  "It is I who
+tell you not to.  But what you say doesn't surprise me.  They must
+believe that Natacha has betrayed them."
+
+"Ah, then you admit at last that she really is their accomplice?"
+
+"I haven't said that and I don't admit it.  But I know what I mean,
+and you, you can't.  Only, know this one thing, that at the present
+moment I am the only person able to save you in this horrible
+situation.  To do that I must see Natacha at once.  Make her
+understand this, while I wait at my hotel for word.  I'll not leave
+it."
+
+Rouletabille saluted Koupriane and went out.
+
+Two days passed, during which Rouletabille did not receive any word
+from either Natacha or Koupriane, and tried in vain to see them.
+He made a trip for a few hours to Finland, going as far as Pergalovo,
+an isolated town said to be frequented by the revolutionaries, then
+returned, much disturbed, to his hotel, after having written a last
+letter to Natacha imploring an interview.  The minutes passed very
+slowly for him in the hotel's vestibule, where he had seemed to have
+taken up a definite residence.
+
+Installed on a bench, he seemed to have become part of the hotel
+staff, and more than one traveler took him for an interpreter.
+Others thought he was an agent of the Secret Police appointed to
+study the faces of those arriving and departing.  What was he
+waiting for, then?  Was it for Annouchka to return for a luncheon
+or dinner in that place that she sometimes frequented?  And did he
+at the same time keep watch upon Annouchka's apartments just across
+the way?  If that was so, he could only bewail his luck, for
+Annouchka did not appear either at her apartments or the hotel, or
+at the Krestowsky establishment, which had been obliged to suppress
+her performance.  Rouletabille naturally thought, in the latter
+connection, that some vengeance by Gounsovski lay back of this,
+since the head of the Secret Service could hardly forget the way he
+
+had been treated.  The reporter could see already the poor singer,
+in spite of all her safeguards and the favor of the Imperial family,
+on the road to the Siberian steppes or the dungeons of Schlusselbourg.
+
+"My, what a country!" he murmured.
+
+But his thoughts soon quit Annouchka and returned to the object of
+his main preoccupation.  He waited for only one thing, and for that
+as soon as possible - to have a private interview with Natacha.  He
+had written her ten letters in two days, but they all remained
+unanswered.  It was an answer that he waited for so patiently in
+the vestibule of the hotel - so patiently, but so nervously, so
+feverishly.
+
+When the postman entered, poor Rouletabille's heart beat rapidly.
+On that answer he waited for depended the formidable part he meant
+to play before quitting Russia.  He had accomplished nothing up to
+now, unless he could play his part in this later development.
+
+But the letter did not come.  The postman left, and the schwitzar,
+after examining all the mail, made him a negative sign.  Ah, the
+servants who entered, and the errand-boys, how he looked at them!
+But they never came for him.  Finally, at six o'clock in the evening
+of the second day, a man in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan
+collar, came in and handed the concierge a letter for Joseph
+Rouletabille.  The reporter jumped up.  Before the man was out the
+door he had torn open the letter and read it.  The letter was not
+from Natacha.  It was from Gounsovski.  This is what it said:
+
+"My dear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, if it will not inconvenience
+you, I wish you would oome and dine with me to-day.  I will look
+for you within two hours.  Madame Gounsovski will be pleased to make
+your acquaintance.  Believe me your devoted Gounsovski."
+
+Rouletabille considered, and decided:
+
+"I will go.  He ought to have wind of what is being plotted, and as
+for me, I don't know where Annoucbka has gone.  I have more to learn
+from him than he has from me.  Besides, as Athanase Georgevitch said,
+one may regret not accepting the Head of the Okrana's pleasant
+invitation."
+
+>From six o'clock to seven he still waited vainly for Natacha's
+response.  At seven o'clock, he decided to dress for the dinner.
+Just as he rose, a messenger arrived.  There was still another
+letter for Joseph Rouletabille.  This time it was from Natacha, who
+wrote him:
+
+"General Trebassof and my step-mother will be very happy to have
+you come to dinner to-day.  As for myself, monsieur, you will pardon
+me the order which has closed to you for a number of days a dwelling
+where you have rendered services which I shall not forget all my
+life."
+
+The letter ended with a vague polite formula.  With the letter in
+his hand the reporter sat in thought.  He seemed to be asking
+himself, "Is it fish or flesh?"  Was it a letter of thanks or of
+menace?  That was what he could not decide.  Well, he would soon
+know, for he had decided to accept that invitation.  Anything that
+brought him and Natacha into communication at the moment was a thing
+of capital importance to him.  Half-an-hour later he gave the
+address of the villa to an isvotchick, and soon he stepped out
+before the gate where Ermolai seemed to be waiting for him.
+
+Rouletabille was so occupied by thought of the conversation he was
+going to have with Natacha that he had completely forgotten the
+excellent Monsieur Gounsovski and his invitation.
+
+The reporter found Koupriane's agents making a close-linked chain
+around the grounds and each watching the other.  Matrena had not
+wished any agent to be in house.  He showed Koupriane's pass and
+entered.
+
+Ermolai ushered Rouletabille in with shining face.  He seemed glad
+to have him there again.  He bowed low before him and uttered many
+compliments, of which the reporter did not understand a word.
+Rouletablle passed on, entered the garden and saw Matrena Petrovna
+there walking with her step-daughter.  They seemed on the best of
+terms with each other.  The grounds wore an air of tranquillity and
+the residents seemed to have totally forgotten the somber tragedy
+of the other night.  Matrena and Natacha came smilingly up to the
+young man, who inquired after the general.  They both turned and
+pointed out Feodor Feodorovitch, who waved to him from the height
+of the kiosk, where it seemed the table had been spread. They were
+going to dine out of doors this fine night.
+
+"Everything goes very well, very well indeed, dear little domovoi,"
+said Matrena.  "How glad it is to see you and thank you.  If you
+only knew how I suffered in your absence, I who know how unjust my
+daughter was to you.  But dear Natacha knows now what she owes you.
+She doesn't doubt your word now, nor your clear intelligence, little
+angel.  Michael Nikolaievitch was a monster and he was punished as
+he deserved.  You know the police have proof now that he was one of
+the Central Revolutionary Committee's most dangerous agents.  And
+he an officer!   Whom can we trust now!"
+
+"And Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, have you seen him since?" inquired
+Rouletabille.
+
+"Boris called to see us to-day, to say good-by, but we did not
+receive him, under the orders of the police.  Natacha has written
+to tell him of Koupriane's orders.  We have received letters from
+him; he is quitting St. Petersburg.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Well, after the frightful bloody scene in his little house, when
+he learned how Michael Nikolaievitch had found his death, and after
+he himself had undergone a severe grilling from the police, and
+when he learned the police had sacked his library and gone through
+his papers, he resigned, and has resolved to live from now on out
+in the country, without seeing anyone, like the philosopher and
+poet he is.  So far as I am concerned, I think he is doing absolutely
+right.  When a young man is a poet, it is useless to live like a
+soldier.  Someone has said that, I don't know the name now, and
+when one has ideas that may upset other people, surely they ought
+to live in solitude."
+
+Rouletabille looked at Natacha, who was as pale as her white gown,
+and who added no word to her mother's outburst.  They had drawn near
+the kiosk.  Rouletabille saluted the general, who called to him to
+come up and, when the young man extended his hand, he drew him
+abruptly nearer and embraced him.  To show Rouletabille how active
+he was getting again, Feodor Feodorovitch marched up and down the
+kiosk with only the aid of a stick.  He went and came with a sort
+of wild, furious gayety.
+
+"They haven't got me yet, the dogs.  They haven't got me!  And one
+(he was thinking of Michael) who saw me every day was here just for
+that.  Very well.  I ask you where he is now.  And yet here I am!
+An attack!  I'm always here!  But with a good eye; and I begin to
+have a good leg.  We shall see.  Why, I recollect how, when I was
+at Tiflis, there was an insurrection in the Caucasus.  We fought.
+Several times I could feel the swish of bullets past my hair.  My
+comrades fell around me like flies.  But nothing happened to me,
+not a thing.  And here now!  They will not get me, they will not
+get me.  You know how they plan now to come to me, as living bombs.
+Yes, they have decided on that.  I can't press a friend's hand any
+more without the fear of seeing him explode.  What do you think of
+that?  But they won't get me.  Come, drink my health.  A small
+glass of vodka for an appetizer.  You see, young man, we are going
+to have zakouskis here.  What a marvelous panorama!  You can see
+everything from here.  If the enemy comes," he added with a singular
+loud laugh, "we can't fail to detect him."
+
+Certainly the kiosk did rise high above the garden and was
+completely detached, no wall being near.  They had a clear view.
+No branches of trees hung over the roof and no tree hid the view.
+The rustic table of rough wood was covered with a short cloth and
+was spread with zakouskis.  It was a meal under the open sky, a
+seat and a glass in the clear azure.  The evening could not have
+been softer and clearer.  And, as the general felt so gay, the
+repast would have promised to be most agreeable, if Rouletabille
+had not noticed that Matrena Petrovna and Natacha were uneasy and
+downcast.  The reporter soon saw, too, that all the general's
+joviality was a little excessive.  Anyone would have said that
+Feodor Feodorovitch spoke to distract himself, to keep himself from
+thinking.  There was sufilcient excuse for him after the outrageous
+drama of the other night.  Rouletabille noticed further that the
+general never looked at his daughter, even when he spoke to her.
+There was too formidable a mystery lying between them for restraint
+not to increase day by day.  Rouletabille involuntarily shook his
+head, saddened by all he saw.  His movemerit was surprised by
+Matrena Petrovna, who pressed his hand in silence.
+
+"Well, now," said the general, "well, now my children, where is the
+vodka?"
+
+Among all the bottles which graced the table the general looked in
+vain for his flask of vodka.  How in the world could he dine if he
+did not prepare for that important act by the rapid absorption of
+two or three little glasses of white wine, between two or three
+sandwiches of caviare!
+
+"Ermolai must have left it in the wine-chest," said Matrena.
+
+The wine-closet was in the dining-room.  She rose to go there, but
+Natacha hurried before her down the little flight of steps, crying,
+"Stay there, mamma.  I will go."
+
+"Don't you bother, either.  I know where it is," cried Rouletabille,
+and hurried after Natacha.
+
+She did not stop.  The two young people arrived in the dining-room at
+the same time.  They were there alone, as Rouletabille had foreseen.
+He stopped Natacha and planted himself in front of her.
+
+"Why, mademoiselle, did you not answer me earlier?"
+
+"Because I don't wish to have any conversation with you."
+
+"If that was so, you would not have come here, where you were sure
+I would follow."
+
+She hesitated, with an emotion that would have been incomprehensible
+to all others perhaps, but was not to Rouletabille.
+
+"Well, yes, I wished to say this to you: Don't write to me any more.
+Don't speak to me.  Don't see me.  Go away from here, monsieur; go
+away.  They will have your life.  And if you have found out anything,
+forget it.  Ah, on the head of your mother, forget it, or you are
+lost.  That is what I wished to tell you.  And now, you go."
+
+She grasped his hand in a quick sympathetic movement that she seemed
+instantly to regret.
+
+"You go away," she repeated.
+
+Rouletabille still held his place before her.  She turned from him;
+she did not wish to hear anything further.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are watched closer than ever.  Who
+will take Michael Nikolaievitch's place?"
+
+"Madman, be silent!  Hush!"
+
+"I am here."
+
+He said this with such simple bravery that tears sprang to her eyes.
+
+"Dear man!  Poor man!  Dear brave man!"  She did not know what to
+say.  Her emotion checked all utterance.  But it was necessary for
+her to enable him to understand that there was nothing he could do
+to help her in her sad straits.
+
+"No.  If they knew what you have just said, what you have proposed
+now, you would be dead to-morrow.  Don't let them suspect.  And
+above all, don't try to see me anywhere.  Go back to papa at once.
+We have been here too long.  What if they learn of it?  - and they
+learn everything!  They are everywhere, and have ears everywhere."
+
+"Mademoiselle, just one word more, a single word.  Do you doubt now
+that Michael tried to poison your father?"
+
+"Ah, I wish to believe it.  I wish to.  I wish to believe it for
+your sake, my poor boy."
+
+Rouletabille desired something besides "I wish to believe it for
+your sake, my poor boy."  He was far from being satisfied.  She saw
+him turn pale.  She tried to reassure him while her trembling hands
+raised the lid of the wine-chest.
+
+"What makes me think you are right is that I have decided myself
+that only one and the same person, as you said, climbed to the
+window of the little balcony.  Yes, no one can doubt that, and you
+have reasoned well."
+
+But he persisted still.
+
+"And yet, in spite of that, you are not entirely sure, since you
+say, 'I wish to believe it, my poor boy.'"
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, someone might have tried to poison my father,
+and not have come by way of the window."
+
+"No, that is impossible."
+
+"Nothing is impossible to them."
+
+And she turned her head away again.
+
+"Why, why," she said, with her voice entirely changed and quite
+indifferent, as if she wished to be merely 'the daughter of the
+house' in conversation with the young man, "the vodka is not in
+the wine chest, after all.  What has Ermolai done with it, then?"
+
+She ran over to the buffet and found the flask.
+
+"Oh, here it is.  Papa shan't be without it, after all."
+
+Rouletabille was already into the garden again.
+
+"If that is the only doubt she has," he said to himself, "I can
+reassure her.  No one could come, excepting by the window.  And
+only one came that way."
+
+The young girl had rejoined him, bringing the flask.  They crossed
+the garden together to the general, who was whiling away the time
+as he waited for his vodka explaining to Matrena Petrovna the nature
+of "the constitution."  He had spilt a box of matches on the table
+and arranged them carefully.
+
+"Here," he cried to Natacha and Rouletabille.  "Come here and I will
+explain to you as well what this Constitution amounts to."
+
+The young people leaned over his demonstration curiously and all
+eyes in the kiosk were intent on the matches.
+
+"You see that match," said Feodor Feodorovitch.  "It is the Emperor.
+And this other match is the Empress; this one is the Tsarevitch;
+and that one is the Grand-duke Alexander; and these are the other
+granddukes.  Now, here are the ministers and there the principal
+governors, and then the generals; these here are the bishops."
+
+The whole box of matches was used up, and each match was in its
+place, as is the way in an empire where proper etiquette prevails
+in government and the social order.
+
+"Well," continued the general, "do you want to know, Matrena
+Petrovna, what a constitution is?  There!  That is the Constitution."
+
+The general, with a swoop of his hand, mixed all the matches.
+Rouletabille laughed, but the good Matrena said:
+
+"I don't understand, Feodor."
+
+"Find the Emperor now."
+
+Then Matrena understood.  She laughed heartily, she laughed
+violently, and Natacha laughed also.  Delighted with his success,
+Feodor Feodorovitch took up one of the little glasses that Natacha
+had filled with the vodka she brought.
+
+"Listen, my children," said he.  "We are going to commence the
+zakouskis.  Koupriane ought to have been here before this."
+
+Saying this, holding still the little glass in his hand, he felt in
+his pocket with the other for his watch, and drew out a magnificent
+large watch whose ticking was easily heard.
+
+" Ah, the watch has come back from the repairer," Rouletabille
+remarked smilingly to Matrena Petrovna.  "It looks like a splendid
+one."
+
+"1t has very fine works," said the general.  "It was bequeathed to
+me by my grandfather.  It marks the seconds, and the phases of the
+moon, and sounds the hours and half-hours."
+
+Rouletabille bent over the watch, admiring it.
+
+"You expect M.  Koupriane for dinner?" inquired the young man, still
+examining the watch.
+
+"Yes, but since he is so late, we'll not delay any longer.  Your
+healths, my children," said the general as Rouletabille handed him
+back the watch and he put it in his pocket.
+
+"Your health, Feodor Feodorovitch," replied Matrena Petrovna, with
+her usual tenderness.
+
+Rouletabille and Natacha only touched their lips to the vodka, but
+Feodor Feodorovitch and Matrena drank theirs in the Russian fashion,
+head back and all at a draught, draining it to the bottom and
+flinging the contents to the back of the throat.  They had no more
+than performed this gesture when the general uttered an oath and
+tried to expel what he had drained so heartily.  Matrena Petrovna
+spat violently also, looking with horror at her husband.
+
+"What is it?  What has someone put in the vodka?" cried Feodor.
+
+"What has someone put in the vodka?" repeated Matrena Petrovna in
+a thick voice, her eyes almost starting from her head.
+
+The two young people threw themselves upon the unfortunates.
+Feodor's face had an expression of atrocious suffering.
+
+"We are poisoned," cried the general, in the midst of his chokings.
+"I am burning inside."
+
+Almost mad, Natacha took her father's head in her hands.  She cried
+to him:
+
+"Vomit, papa; vomit!"
+
+"We must find an emetic," cried Rauletabille, holding on to the
+general, who had almost slipped from his arms.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, whose gagging noises were violent, hurried down
+the steps of the kiosk, crossed the garden as though wild-fire were
+behind her, and bounded into the veranda.  During this time the
+general succeeded in easing himself, thanks to Rouletabille, who
+had thrust a spoon to the root of his tongue.  Natacha could do
+nothing but cry, "My God, my God, my God!" Feodor held onto his
+stomach, still crying, "I'm burning, I'm burning!"  The scene was
+frightfully tragic and funny at the same time.  To add to the
+burlesque, the general's watch in his pocket struck eight o'clock.
+Feodor Feodorovitch stood up in a final supreme effort.  "Oh, it is
+horrible!" Matrena Petrovna showed a red, almost violet face as she
+came back; she distorted it, she choked, her mouth twitched, but
+she brought something, a little packet that she waved, and from
+which, trembling frightenedly, she shook a powder into the first
+two empty glasses, which were on her side of the table and were
+those she and the general had drained.  She still had strength to
+fill them with water, while Rouletabille was almost overcome by the
+general, whom he still had in his arms, and Natacha concerned
+herself with nothing but her father, leaning over him as though
+to follow the progress of the terrible poison, to read in his eyes
+if it was to be life or death.  "Ipecac," cried Matrena Petrovna,
+and she made the general drink it.  She did not drink until after
+him.  The heroic woman must have exerted superhuman force to go
+herself to find the saving antidote in her medicine-chest, even
+while the agony pervaded her vitals.
+
+Some minutes later both could be considered saved.  The servants,
+Ermolai at their head, were clustered about.  Most of them had been
+at the lodge and they had not, it appeared, heard the beginning of
+the affair, the cries of Natacha and Rouletabille.  Koupriane
+arrived just then.  It was he who worked with Natacha in getting
+the two to bed.  Then he directed one of his agents to go for the
+nearest doctors they could find.
+
+This done, the Prefect of Police went toward the kiosk where he had
+left Rouletabille.  But Rouletabille was not to be found, and the
+flask of vodka and the glasses from which they had drunk were gone
+also.  Ermolai was near-by, and he inquired of the servant for the
+young Frenchman.  Ermolai replied that he had just gone away,
+carrying the flask and the glasses.  Koupriane swore.  He shook
+Ermolai and even started to give him a blow with the fist for
+permitting such a thing to happen before his eyes without making a
+protest.
+
+Ermolai, who had his own haughtiness, dodged Koupriane's fist and
+replied that he had wished to prevent the young Frenchman, hut the
+reporter had shown him a police-paper on which Koupriane himself
+had declared in advance that the young Frenchman was to do anything
+he pleased.
+
+
+
+
+  
+XII
+
+PERE ALEXIS
+
+Koupriane jumped into his carriage and hurried toward St. Petersburg.
+On the way he spoke to three agents who only he knew were posted in
+the neighborhood of Eliaguine.  They told him the route Rouletabille
+had taken.  The reporter had certainly returned into the city.  He
+hurried toward Troitski Bridge.  There, at the corner of the
+Naberjnaia, Koupriane saw the reporter in a hired conveyance.
+Rouletabille was pounding his coachman in the back, Russian fashion,
+to make him go faster, and was calling with all his strength one of
+the few words he had had time to learn, "Naleva, naleva" (to the
+left).  The driver was forced to understand at last, for there was
+no other way to turn than to the left.  If he had turned to the
+right (naprava) he would have driven into the river.  The
+conveyance clattered over the pointed flints of a neighborhood that
+led to a little street, Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, at the corner of the
+Katharine canal.  This "alley of the pharmacists" as a matter of
+fact contained no pharmacists, but there was a curious sign of a
+herbarium, where Rouletabille made the driver stop.  As the carriage
+rolled under the arch Rouletabille recognized Koupriane.  He did
+not wait, but cried to him, "Ah, here you are.  All right; follow
+me."  He still had the flask and the glasses in his hands.  Koupriane
+couldn't help noticing how strange he looked.  He passed through a
+court with him, and into a squalid shop.
+
+"What," said Koupriane, "do you know Pere Alexis?"
+
+They were in the midst of a curious litter.  Clusters of dried herbs
+hung from the ceiling, and all among them were clumps of old boots,
+shriveled skins, battered pans, scrap-iron, sheep-skins, useless
+touloupes, and on the floor musty old clothes, moth-eaten furs, and
+sheep-skin coats that even a moujik of the swamps would not have
+deigned to wear.  Here and there were old teeth, ragged finery,
+dilapidated hats, and jars of strange herbs ranged upon some rickety
+shelving.  Between the set of scales on the counter and a heap of
+little blocks of wood used for figuring the accounts of this singular
+business were ungilded ikons, oxidized silver crosses, and Byzantine
+pictures representing scenes from the Old and New Testaments.  Jars
+of alcohol with what seemed to be the skeletons of frogs swimming
+in them filled what space was left.  In a corner of this large,
+murky room, under the vault of mossed stone, a small altar stood
+and the light burned in a hanging glass of oil before the holy
+images.  A man was praying before the altar.  He wore the costume
+of old Russia, the caftan of green cloth, buttoned at the shoulder
+and tucked in at the waist by a narrow belt.  He had a bushy beard
+and his hair fell to his shoulders.  When he had finished his prayer
+he rose, perceived Rouletabille and came over to take his hand.  He
+spoke French to the reporter:
+
+"Well, here you are again, lad.  Do you bring poison again to-day?
+This will end by being found out, and the police..."
+
+Just then he discerned Koupriane's form in the shadow, drew close
+to make out who it was, and fell to his knees as he saw who it was.
+Rouletabille tried to raise him, but he insisted on prostrating
+himself.  He was sure the Prefect of Police had come to his house
+to hang him.  Finally he was reassured by Rouletabile's positive
+assertions and the great chief's robust laugh.  The Prefect wished
+to know how the young man came to be acquainted with the "alchemist"
+of the police.  Rouletabille told him in a few words.
+
+Maitre Alexis, in his youth, went to France afoot, to study pharmacy,
+because of his enthusiasm for chemistry.  But he always remained
+countrified, very much a Russian peasant, a semi-Oriental bear, and
+did not achieve his degree.  He took some certificates, but the
+examinations were too much for him.  For fifty years he lived
+miserably as a pharmacist's assistant in the back of a disreputable
+shop in the Notre Dame quarter.  The proprietor of the place was
+implicated in the famous affair of the gold ingots, which started
+Rouletabille's reputation, and was arrested along with his assistant,
+Alexis.  It was Rouletabille who proved, clear as day, that poor
+Alexis was innocent, and that he had never been cognizant of his
+master's evil ways, being absorbed in the depths of his laboratory
+in trying to work out a naive alchemy which fascinated him, though
+the world of chemistry had passed it by centuries ago.   At the
+trial Alexis was acquitted, but found himself in the street.  He
+shed what tears remained in his body upon the neck of the reporter,
+assuring him of paradise if he got him back to his own country,
+because he desired only the one thing more of life, that he might
+see his birth-land before he died.  Rouletabille advanced the
+necessary means and sent him to St. Petersburg.  There he was picked
+up at the end of two days by the police, in a petty gambling-game,
+and thrown into prison, where he promptly had a chance to show his
+talents.  He cured some of his companions in misery, and even some
+of the guards.  A guard who had an injured leg, whose healing he
+had despaired of, was cured by Alexis.  Then there was found to be
+no actual charge against him.  They set him free and, moreover,
+they interested themselves in him.  They found meager employment
+for him in the Stchoukine-dvor, an immense popular bazaar.  He
+accumulated a few roubles and installed himself on his own account
+at the back of a court in the Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he
+gradually piled up a heap of old odds and ends that no one wanted
+even in the Stchoukine-dvor.  But he was happy, because behind his
+shop he had installed a little laboratory where he continued for
+his pleasure his experiments in alchemy and his study of plants.
+He still proposed to write a book that he had already spoken of in
+France to Rouletabille, to prove the truth of "Empiric Treatment
+of Medicinal Herbs, the Science of Alchemy, and the Ancient
+Experiments in Sorcery."  Between times he continued to cure anyone
+who applied to him, and the police in particular.  The police guards
+protected him and used him.  He had splendid plasters for them after
+"the scandal," as they called the October riots.  So when the
+doctors of the quarter tried to prosecute him for illegal practice,
+a deputation of police-guards went to Koupriane, who took the
+responsibility and discontinued proceedings against him.  They
+regarded him as under protection of the saints, and Alexis soon
+came to be regarded himself as something of a holy man.  He never
+failed every Christmas and Easter to send his finest images to
+Rouletabille, wishing him all prosperity and saying that if ever
+he came to St. Petersburg he should be happy to receive him at
+Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he was established in honest labor.
+Pere Alexis, like all the true saints, was a modest man.
+
+When Alexis had recovered a little from his emotion Rouletabille
+said to him:
+
+"Pere Alexis, I do bring you poison again, but you have nothing to
+fear, for His Excellency the Chief of Police is with me.  Here is
+what we want you to do.  You must tell us what poison these four
+glasses have held, and what poison is still in this flask and this
+little phial."
+
+"What is that little phial?" demanded Koupriane, as he saw
+Rouletabille pull a small, stoppered bottle out of his pocket.
+
+The reporter replied, "I have put into this bottle the vodka that
+was poured into Natacha's glass and mine and that we barely touched."
+
+"Someone has tried to poison you!" exclaimed Pere Alexis.
+
+"No, not me," replied Rouletabille, in bored fashion.  "Don't think
+about that.  Simply do what I tell you.  Then analyze these two
+napkins, as well."
+
+And he drew from his coat two soiled napkins.
+
+"Well," said Koupriane, "you have thought of everything."
+
+"They are the napkins the general and his wife used."
+
+"Yes, yes, I understand that," said the Chief of Police.
+
+"And you, Alexis, do you understand?" asked the reporter.  "When
+can we have the result of your analysis?
+
+"In an hour, at the latest."
+
+"Very well," said Koupriane.  "Now I need not tell you to hold your
+tongue.  I am going to leave one of my men here.  You will write us
+a note that you will seal, and he will bring it to head-quarters.
+Sure you understand?  In an hour?"
+
+"In an hour, Excellency."
+
+They went out, and Alexis followed them, bowing to the floor.
+Koupriane had Rouletabille get into his carriage.  The young man
+did as he was told.  One would have said he did not know where he
+was or what he did.  He made no reply to the chief's questions.
+
+"This Pere Alexander," resumed Koupriane, "is a character, really
+quite a figure.  And a bit of a schemer, I should say.  He has seen
+how Father John of Cronstadt succeeded, and he says to himself,
+'Since the sailors had their Father John of Cronstadt, why shouldn't
+the police-guard have their Father Alexis of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok?'"
+
+But Rouletabille did not reply at all, and Koupriane wound up by
+demanding what was the matter with him.
+
+"The matter is," replied Rouletabille, unable longer to conceal his
+anguish, "that the poison continues."
+
+"Does that astonish you?" returned Koupriane.  "It doesn't me."
+
+Rouletabille looked at him and shook his head.  His lips trembled
+as he said, "I know what you think.  It is abominable.  But the
+thing I have done certainly is more abominable still."
+
+"What have you done, then, Monsieur Rouletabille?"
+
+"Perhaps I have caused the death of an innocent man."
+
+"So long as you aren't sure of it, you would better not fret about
+it, my dear friend."
+
+"It is enough that the doubt has arisen," said the reporter, "almost
+to kill me;" and he heaved so gloomy a sigh that the excellent
+Monsieur Koupriane felt pity for the lad.  He tapped him on the knee.
+
+"Come, come, young man, you ought to know one thing by this time
+- 'you can't make omelettes without breaking eggs,' as they say, I
+think, in Paris."
+
+Rouletabille turned away from him with horror in his heart.  If
+there should be another, someone besides Michael!  If it was another
+hand than his that appeared to Matrena and him in the mysterious
+night!  If Michael Nikolaievitch had been innocent!  Well, he
+would kill himself, that was all.  And those horrible words that he
+had exchanged with Natacha rose in his memory, singing in his ears
+as though they would deafen him.
+
+"Do you doubt still?" he had asked her, "that Michael tried to
+poison your father?"
+
+And Natacha had replied, "I wish to believe it!  I wish to believe
+it, for your sake, my poor boy."  And then he recalled her other
+words, still more frightful now!  "Couldn't someone have tried to
+poison my father and not have come by the window?"  He had faced
+such a hypothesis with assurance then - but now, now that the poison
+continued, continued within the house, where he believed himself
+so fully aware of all people and things - continued now that Michael
+Nikolaievitch was dead - ah, where did it come from, this poison?
+- and what was it?  Pere Alexis would hurry hiss analysis if he had
+any regard for poor Rouletabille.
+
+For Rouletabille to doubt, and in an affair where already there was
+one man dead through his agency, was torment worse than death.
+
+When they arrived at police-headquarters, Rouletabille jumped from
+Koupriane's carriage and without saying a word hailed an empty
+isvotchick that was passing.  He had himself driven back to Pere
+Alexis.  His doubt mastered his will; he could not bear to wait
+away.  Under the arch of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok he saw once more
+the man Koupriane had placed there with the order to bring him
+Alexis's message.  The man looked at him in astonishment.
+Rouletabille crossed the court and entered the dingy old room once
+more.  Pere Alexis was not there, naturally, engaged as he was
+in his laboratory.  But a person whom he did not recognize at first
+sight attracted the reporter's attention.  In the half-light of the
+shop a melancholy shadow leaned over the ikons on the counter.  It
+was only when he straightened up, with a deep sigh, and a little
+light, deflected and yellow from passing through window-panes that
+had known no touch of cleaning since they were placed there, fell
+faintly on the face, that Rouletabille ascertained he was face to
+face with Boris Mourazoff.  It was indeed he, the erstwhile
+brilliant officer whose elegance and charm the reporter had admired
+as he saw him at beautiful Natacha's feet in the datcha at Eliaguine.
+Now, no more in uniform, he had thrown over his bowed shoulders a
+wretched coat, whose sleeves swayed listlessly at his sides, in
+accord with his mood of languid desperation, a felt hat with the
+rim turned down hid a little the misery in his face in tnese few
+days, these not-many hours, how he was changed!  But, even as he
+was, he still concerned Rouletabille.  What was he doing there?
+Was he not going to go away, perhaps?  He had picked up an ikon
+from the counter and carried it over to the window to examine its
+oxidized silver, giving such close attention to it that the reporter
+hoped he might reach the door of the laboratory without being
+noticed.  He already had his hand on the knob of that door, which
+was behind the counter, when he heard his name called.
+
+"It is you, Monsieur Rouletabille," said the low, sad voice of
+Boris.  "What has brought you here, then?"
+
+"Well, well, Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, unless I'm mistaken?  I
+certainly didn't expect to find you here in Pere Alexis's place."
+
+"Why not, Monsieur Rouletabille?  One can find anything here in
+Pere Alexis's stock.  See; here are two old ikons in wood, carved
+with sculptures, which came direct from Athos, and can't be equaled,
+I assure you, either at Gastini-Dvor nor even at Stchoukine-Dvor"
+
+"Yes, yes, that is possible," said Rouletabille, impatiently.  "Are
+you an amateur of such things?" he added, in order to say something.
+
+"Oh, like anybody else.  But I was going to tell you, Monsieur
+Rouletabille, I have resigned my commission.  I have resolved to
+retire from the world; I am going on a long voyage."  (Rouletabille
+thought: 'Why not have gone at once?')  "And before going, I have
+come here to supply myself with some little gifts to send those of
+my friends I particularly care for, although now, my dear Monsieur
+Rouletabille, I don't care much for anything."
+
+"You look desolate enough, monsieur."
+
+Boris sighed like a child.
+
+"How could it be otherwise?" he said.  "I loved and believed myself
+beloved.  But it proved to be - nothing, alas!"
+
+"Sometimes one only imagines things," said Rouletabille, keeping
+his hand on the door.
+
+"Oh, yes," said the other, growing more and more melancholy.  "So
+a man suffers.  He is his own tormentor; he himself makes the wheel
+on which, like his own executioner, he binds himself."
+
+"It is not necessary, monsieur; it is not necessary," counseled the
+reporter.
+
+"Listen," implored Boris in a voice that showed tears were not far
+away.  "You are still a child, but still you can see things.  Do
+you believe Natacha loves me?"
+
+"I am sure of it, Monsieur Boris; I am sure of it."
+
+"I am sure of it, too.  But I don't know what to think now.  She
+has let me go, without trying to detain me, without a word of hope."
+
+"And where are you going like that?"
+
+"I am returning to the Orel country, where I first saw her."
+
+"That is good, very good, Monsieur Boris.  At least there you are
+sure to see her again.  She goes there every year with her parents
+for a few weeks.  It is a detail you haven't overlooked, doubtless."
+
+"Certainly I haven't.  I will tell you that that prospect decided
+my place of retreat."
+
+" See!"
+
+"God gives me nothing, but He opens His treasures, and each takes
+what he can."
+
+"Yes, yes; and Mademoiselle Natacha, does she know it is to Orel
+you have decided to retire?"
+
+"I have no reason for concealing it from her, Monsieur Rouletabille."
+
+"So far so good.  You needn't feel so desolate, my dear Monsieur
+Boris.  All is not lost.  I will say even that I see a future for
+you full of hope."
+
+"Ah, if you are able to say that truthfully, I am happy indeed to
+have met you.  I will never forget this rope you have flung me when
+all the waters seemed closing over my head.  'What do you advise,
+then?"
+
+"I advise you to go to Orel, monsieur, and as quickly as possible."
+
+"Very well.  You must have reasons for saying that.  I obey you,
+monsieur, and go."
+
+As Boris started towards the entrance-arch, Rouletabille slipped
+into the laboratory.  Old Alexis was bent over his retorts.  A
+wretched lamp barely lighted his obscure work.  He turned at the
+noise the reporter made.
+
+"Ah!-you, lad!"
+
+"'Well?"
+
+"Oh, nothing so quick.  Still, I have already analyzed the two
+napkins, you know."
+
+"Yes?  The stains?  Tell me, for the love of God!"
+
+"Well, my boy, it is arsenate of soda again."
+
+Rouletabille, stricken to the heart, uttered a low cry and everything
+seemed to dance around him.  Pere Alexis in the midst of all the
+strange laboratory instruments seemed Satan himself, and he repulsed
+the kindly arms stretched forth to sustain him; in the gloom, where
+danced here and there the little blue flames from the crucibles,
+lively as flickering tongues, he believed he saw Michael
+Nikolaievitch's ghost come to cry, "The arsenate of soda continues,
+and I am dead."  He fell against the door, which swung open, and he
+rolled as far as the counter, and struck his face against it.  The
+shock, that might well have been fatal, brought him out of his
+intense nightmare and made him instantly himself again.  He rose,
+jumped over the heap of boots and fol-de-rols, and leaped to the
+court.  There Boris grabbed him by his coat.  Rouletabille turned,
+furious:
+
+"What do you want?  You haven't started for the Orel yet?"
+
+"Monsieur, I am going, but I will be very grateful if you will take
+these things yourself to - to Natacha."  He showed him, still with
+despairing mien, the two ikons from Mount Athos, and Rouletabille
+took them from him, thrust them in his pocket, and hurried on,
+crying, "I understand."
+
+Outside, Rouletabille tried to get hold of himself, to recover his
+coolness a little.  Was it possible that he had made a mortal error?
+Alas, alas, how could he doubt it now!  The arsenate of soda
+continued.  He made, a superhuman effort to ward off the horror of
+that, even momentarily - the death of innocent Michael Nikolaievitch
+- and to think of nothing except the immediate consequences, which
+must be carefully considered if he wished to avoid some new
+catastrophe.  Ah, the assassin was not discouraged.  And that time,
+what a piece of work he had tried!  What a hecatomb if he had
+succeeded!  The general, Matrena Petrovna, Natacha and Rouletabille
+himself (who almost regretted, so far as he was concerned, that it
+had not succeeded) - and Koupriane!  Koupriane, who should have
+been there for luncheon.  What a bag for the Nihilists!  That was
+it, that was it.  Rouletabille understood now why they had not
+hesitated to poison everybody at once: Koupriane was among them.
+
+Michael Nikolaievitch would have been avenged!
+
+The attempt had failed this time, but what might they not expect
+now!  From the moment he believed Michael Nikolaievitch no longer
+guilty, as he had imagined, Rouletabille fell into a bottomless
+abyss.
+
+Where should he go?  After a few moments he made the circuit of the
+Rotunda, which serves as the market for this quarter and is the
+finest ornament of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok.  He made the circuit
+without knowing it, without stopping for anything, without seeing
+or understanding anything.  As a broken-winded horse makes its way
+in the treadmill, so he walked around with the thought that he
+also was lost in a treadmill that led him nowhere.  Rouletabille
+was no longer Rouletabille.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE LIVING BOMBS
+
+At random - because now he could only act at random - he returned
+to the datcha.  Great disorder reigned there.  The guard had been
+doubled.  The general's friends, summoned by Trebassof, surrounded
+the two poisoned sufferers and filled the house with their bustling
+devotion and their protestations of affection.  However, an
+insignificant doctor from the common quarter of the Vasili-Ostrow,
+brought by the police, reassured everybody.  The police had not
+found the general's household physician at home, but promised the
+immediate arrival of two specialists, whom they had found instead.
+In the meantime they had picked up on the way this little doctor,
+who was gay and talkative as a magpie.  He had enough to do looking
+after Matrena Petrovna, who had been so sick that her husband,
+Feodor Feodorovitch, still trembled, "for the first time in his
+life," as the excellent Ivan Petrovitch said.
+
+The reporter was astonished at not finding Natacha either in
+Matrena's apartment or Feodor's.  He asked Matrena where her
+step-daughter was.  Matrena turned a frightened face toward him.
+When they were alone, she said:
+
+"We do not know where she is.  Almost as soon as you left she
+disappeared, and no one has seen her since.  The general has asked
+for her several times.  I have had to tell him Koupriane took her
+with him to learn the details from her of what happened."
+
+"She is not with Koupriane," said Rouletabille.
+
+"Where is she?  This disappearance is more than strange at the
+moment we were dying, when her father - O God!  Leave me, my child;
+I am stifling; I am stifling."
+
+Rouletabille called the temporary doctor and withdrew from the
+chamber.  He had come with the idea of inspecting the house room by
+room, corner by corner, to make sure whether or not any possibility
+of entrance existed that he had not noticed before, an entrance
+would-be poisoners were continuing to use.  But now a new fact
+confronted him and overshadowed everything: the disappearance of
+Natacha.  How he lamented his ignorance of the Russian language
+- and not one of Koupriane's men knew French.  He might draw
+something out of Ermolai.
+
+Ermolai said he had seen Natacha just outside the gate for a moment,
+looking up and down the road.  Then he had been called to the
+general, and so knew nothing further.
+
+That was all the reporter could gather from the gestures rather than
+the words of the old servant.
+
+An additional difficulty now was that twilight drew on, and it was
+impossible for the reporter to discern Natacha's foot-prints.  Was
+it true that the young girl had fled at such a moment, immediately
+after the poisoning, before she knew whether her father and mother
+were entirely out of danger?  If Natacha were innocent, as
+Rouletabille still wished to believe, such an attitude was simply
+incomprehensible.  And the girl could not but be aware she would
+increase Koupriane's suspicions.  The reporter had a vital reason
+for seeing her immediately, a vital reason for all concerned, above
+all in this moment when the Nihilists were culminating their plans,
+a vital reason for her and for him, equally menaced with death, to
+talk with her and to renew the propositions he had made a few
+minutes before the poisoning and which she had not wished to hear
+him talk about, in fearful pity for him or in defiance of him.
+Where was Natacha?  He thought maybe she was trying to rejoin
+Annouchka, and there were reasons for that, both if she were innocent
+and if she were guilty.  But where was Annouchka?  Who could say!
+Gounsovski perhaps.  Rouletabille jumped into an isvo, returning
+from the Point empty, and gave Gounsovski's address.  He deigned
+then to recall that he had been invited that same day to dine with
+the Gounsovskis.  They would no longer be expecting him.  He blamed
+himself.
+
+They received him, but they had long since finished dinner.
+
+Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski were playing a game of draughts
+under the lamp.  Rouletabille as he entered the drawing-room
+recognized the shining, fattish bald head of the terrible man.
+Gounsovski came to him, bowing, obsequious, his fat hands held out.
+He was presented to Madame Gounsovski, who was besprinkled with
+jewels over her black silk gown.  She had a muddy skin and
+magnificent eyes.  She also was tentatively effusive.  "We waited
+for you, monsieur," she said, smirking timidly, with the careful
+charm of a woman a little along in years who relies still on
+infantine graces.  As the recreant young man offered his apologies,
+"Oh, we know you are much occupied, Monsieur Rouletabille.  My
+husband said that to me only a moment ago.  But he knew you would
+come finally.  In the end one always accepts my husband's
+invitation." She said this with a fat smile of importance.
+
+Rouletabille turned cold at this last phrase.  He felt actual fear
+in the presence of these two figures, so actrociously commonplace,
+in their horrible, decent little drawing-room.
+
+Madame continued:
+
+"But you have had rather a bad dinner already, through that dreadful
+affair at General Trebassof's.  Come into the dining-room."
+"Ah, so someone has told you?" said Rouletabille.  "No, no, thanks;
+I don't need anything more.  You know what has happened?"
+
+"If you had come to dinner, perhaps nothing would have happened at
+all, you know," said Gounsovski tranquilly, seating himself again
+on the cushions and considering his game of draughts through his
+glasses.  "Anyway, congratulations to Koupriane for being away from
+there through his fear."
+
+For Gounsovski there was only Koupriane!  The life or death of
+Trebassof did not occupy his mind.  Only the acts and movements of
+the Prefect of Police had power to move him.  He ordered a
+waiting-maid who glided into the apartment without making more noise
+than a shadow to bring a small stand loaded with zakouskis and
+bottles of champagne close to the game-table, and he moved one of
+his pawns, saying, "You will permit me?  This move is mine.  I don't
+wish to lose it."
+
+Rouletabille ventured to lay his hand on the oily, hairy fist which
+extended from a dubious cuff.
+
+"What is this you tell me?  How could you have foreseen it?"
+
+"It was easy to foresee everything," replied Gounsovski, offering
+cigars, "to foresee everything from the moment Matiew's place was
+filled by Priemkof."
+
+"Well?" questioned Rouletabille, recalling with some inquietude the
+sight of the whipping in the guards' chapel.
+
+"Well, this Priemkof, between ourselves," (and he bent close to the
+reporter's ear) "is no better, as a police-guard for Koupriane than
+Matiew himself.  Very dangerous.  So when I learned that he took
+Matiew's place at the datcha des Iles, I thought there was sure to
+be some unfortunate happening.  But it was no affair of mine, was
+it?  Koupriane would have been able to say to me, 'Mind your own
+business.'  I had gone far enough in warning him of the 'living
+bombs.'  They had been denounced to us by the same agency that
+enabled us to seize the two living bombs (women, if you please!)
+who were going to the military tribunal at Cronstadt after the
+rebellion in the fleet.  Let him recall that.  That ought to make
+him reflect.  I am a brave man.  I know he speaks ill of me; but I
+don't wish him any harm.  The interests of the Empire before all
+else between us!  I wouldn't talk to you as I do if I didn't know
+the Tsar honors you with his favor.  Then I invited you to dinner.
+As one dines one talks.  But you did not come.  And, while you were
+dining down there and while Priemkof was on guard at the datcha,
+that annoying affair Madame Gounsovski has spoken about happened."
+
+Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski's
+insistences.  He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand
+of the Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering
+them, for this detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which
+had been dark enough for hours and was now deepened by what the
+other had just said.  He comprehended only one thing, that a man
+named Priemkof, whom he had never heard spoken of, as determined as
+Matiew to destroy the general, had been entrusted by Koupriane
+with the guard of the datcha des Iles.  It was necessary to warn
+Koupriane instantly.
+
+"How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur
+Gounsovski?  Why wait to speak about it to me?  It is unimaginable."
+
+"Pardon, pardon," said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his
+goggles; "it is not the same thing."
+
+"No, no, it is not the same thing," seconded the lady with the
+black silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin.  "We speak here to a
+friend in the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the
+police.  We never denounce anybody."
+
+"We must tell you.  But sit down now," Gounsovski still insisted,
+lighting his cigar.  "Be reasonable.  They have just tried to
+poison him, so they will take time to breathe before they try
+something else.  Then, too, this poison makes me think they may
+have given up the idea of living bombs.  Then, after all, what is
+to be will be."
+
+"Yes, yes," approved the ample dame.  "The police never have been
+able to prevent what was bound to happen.  But, speaking of this
+Priemkof, it remains between us, eh?  Between just us?"
+
+"Yes, we must tell you now," Gounsovski slipped in softly, "that it
+will be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the
+information from me.  Because then, you understand, he would not
+believe you; or, rather, he would not believe me.  That is why we
+take these precautions of dining and smoking a cigar.  We speak of
+one thing and another and you do as you please with what we say.
+But, to make them useful, it is absolutely necessary, I repeat, to
+be silent about their source."  (As he said that, Gounsovski gave
+Rouletabille a piercing glance through his goggles, the first time
+Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes.  He never would have
+suspected him capable of such fire.) "Priemkof," continued Gounsovski
+in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously, "was employed
+here in my home and we separated on bad terms, through his fault,
+it is necessary to say.  Then he got into Koupriane's confidence
+by saying the worst he could of us, my dear little monsieur."
+
+"But what could he say?  - servants' stories!  my dear little
+monsieur," repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent
+black eyes furiously.  "Stories that have been treated as they
+deserved at Court, certainly.  Madame Daquin, the wife of His
+Majesty's head-cook, whom you certainly know, and the nephew of the
+second Maid of Honor to the Empress, who stands very well with his
+aunt, have told us so; servants' stories that might have ruined us
+but have not produced any effect on His Majesty, for whom we would
+give our lives, Christ knows.  Well, you understand now that if you
+were to say to Koupriane, 'Gaspadine Gounsovski has spoken ill to
+me of Priemkof,' he would not care to hear a word further.  Still,
+Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs, that is all I can
+tell you; at least, he was before the affair of the poisoning.  That
+poisoning is certainly very astonishing, between us.  It does not
+appear to have come from without, whereas the living bombs will have
+to come from without.  And Priemkof is mixed up in it."
+
+"Yes, yes," approved Madame Gounsovski again, "he is committed to
+it.  There have been stories about him, too.  Other people as well
+as he can tell tales; it isn't hard to do.  He has got to make some
+showing now if he is to keep in with Annouchka's clique."
+
+"Koupriane, our dear Koupriane," interrupted Gounsovski, slightly
+troubled at hearing his wife pronounce Annouchka's name, "Koupriane
+ought to be able to understand that this time Priemkof must bring
+things off, or he is definitely ruined."
+
+"Priemkof knows it well enough," replied Madame as she re-filled
+the glasses, "but Koupriane doesn't know it; that is all we can tell
+you.  Is it enough?  All the rest is mere gossip.
+
+It certainly was enough for Rouletabille; he had had enough of it!
+This idle gossip and these living bombs!  These pinchbecks, these
+whispering tale-tellers in their bourgeois, countrified setting;
+these politico-police comhinations whose grotesque side was always
+uppermost; while the terrible side, the Siberian aspect, prisons,
+black holes, hangings, disappearances, exiles and deaths and
+martyrdoms remained so jealously hidden that no one ever spoke of
+them!  All that weight of horror, between a good cigar and "a little
+glass of anisette, monsieur, if you won't take champagne."  Still,
+he had to drink before he left, touch glasses in a health, promise
+to come again, whenever he wished - the house was open to him.
+Rouletabille knew it was open to anybody - anybody who had a tale
+to tell, something that would send some other person to prison or
+to death and oblivion.  No guard at the entrance to check a visitor
+- men entered Gounsovski's house as the house of a friend, and he
+was always ready to do you a service, certainly!
+
+He accompanied the reporter to the stairs.  Rouletabille was just
+about to risk speaking of Annouchka to him, in order to approach
+the subject of Natacha, when Gounsovski said suddenly, with a
+singular smile:
+
+"By the way, do you still believe in Natacha Trebassof?"
+
+"I shall believe in her until my death," Rouletabille thrust back;
+"but I admit to you that at this moment I don't know where she
+has gone."
+
+"Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and come to tell me to-morrow if you
+will believe in her always," replied Gounsovski, confidentially,
+with a horrid sort of laugh that made the reporter hurry down
+the stairs.
+
+And now here was Priemkof to look after!  Priemkof after Matiew!
+It seemed to the young man that he had to contend against all the
+revolutionaries not only, but all the Russian police as well - and
+Gounsovski himself, and Koupriane!   Everybody, everybody!  But most
+urgent was Priemkof and his living bombs.  What a strange and almost
+incomprehensible and harassing adventure this was between Nihilism
+and the Russian police.  Koupriane and Gounsovski both employed a
+man they knew to be a revolutionary and the friend of revolutionaries.
+Nihilism, on its side, considered this man of the police force as one
+of its own agents.  In his turn, this man, in order to maintain his
+perilous equilibrium, had to do work for both the police and the
+revolutionaries, and accept whatever either gave him to do as it
+came, because it was necessary he should give them assurances of
+his fidelity.  Only imbeciles, like Gapone, let themselves be hanged
+or ended by being executed, like Azef, because of their awkward
+slips.  But a Priemkof, playing both branches of the police, had a
+good chance of living a long time, and a Gounsovski would die
+tranquilly in his bed with all the solaces of religion.
+
+However, the young hearts hot with sincerity, sheathed with dynamite,
+are mysteriously moved in the atrocious darkness of Holy Russia, and
+they do not know where they will be sent, and it is all one to them,
+because all they ask is to die in a mad spiritual delirium of hate
+and love - living bombs!*
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+  *In the trial after the revolt at Cronstadt two young women were
+   charged with wearing bombs as false bosoms.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+At the corner of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok Rouletabille came in the way
+of Koupriane, who was leaving for Pere Alexis's place and, seeing
+the reporter, stopped his carriage and called that he was going
+immediately to the datcha.
+
+"You have seen Pere Alexis?"
+
+"Yes," said Koupriane.  "And this time I have it on you.  What I
+told you, what I foresaw, has happened.  But have you any news of
+the sufferers?  Apropos, rather a curious thing has happened.  I
+met Kister on the Newsky just now."
+
+"The physician?"
+
+"Yes, one of Trebassof's physicians whom I had sent an inspector to
+his house to fetch to the datcha, as well as his usual associate,
+Doctor Litchkof.  Well, neither Litchkof nor he had been summoned.
+They didn't know anything had happened at the datcha.  They had not
+seen my inspector.  I hope he has met some other doctor on the way
+and, in view of the urgency, has taken him to the datcha."
+
+"That is what has happened," replied Rouletabille, who had turned
+very pale.  " Still, it is strange these gentlemen had not been
+notified, because at the datcha the Trebassofs were told that the
+general's usual doctors were not at home and so the police had
+summoned two others who would arrive at once."
+
+Koupriane jumped up in the carriage. 
+
+"But Kister and Litchkof had not left their houses.  Kister, who
+had just met Litchkof, said so.  What does this mean?"
+
+"Can you tell me," asked Rouletabille, ready now for the thunder-clap
+that his question invited, "the name of the inspector you ordered to
+bring them?"
+  
+"Priemkof, a man with my entire confidence."
+
+Koupriane's carriage rushed toward the Isles.  Late evening had
+come.  Alone on the deserted route the horses seemed headed for the
+stars; the carriage behind seemed no drag upon them.  The coachman
+bent above them, arms out, as though he would spring into the ether.
+Ah, the beautiful night, the lovely, peaceful night beside the Neva,
+marred by the wild gallop of these maddened horses!
+
+"Priemkof!  Priemkof!  One of Gounsovski's men!  I should have
+suspected him," railed Koupriane after Rouletabille's explanations.
+"But now, shall we arrive in time?"
+
+They stood up in the carriage, urging the coachman, exciting the
+horses: " Scan!  Scan!  Faster, douriak!"  Could they arrive before
+the "living bombs"?  Could they hear them before they arrived?  Ah,
+there was Eliaguine!
+
+They rushed from the one bank to the other as though there were no
+bridges in their insensate course.  And their ears were strained
+for the explosion, for the abomination now to come, preparing slyly
+in the night so hypocritically soft under the cold glance of the
+stars.  Suddenly, "Stop, stop!" Rouletabille cried to the coachman.
+
+"Are you mad!" shouted Koupriane.
+
+"We are mad if we arrive like madmen.  That would make the
+catastrophe sure.  There is still a chance.  If we wish not to lose
+it, then we must arrive easily and calmly, like friends who know
+the general is out of danger."
+
+"Our only chance is to arrive before the bogus doctors.  Either they
+aren't there, or it already is all over.  Priemkof must have been
+surprised at the affair of the poisoning, but he has seized the
+opportunity; fortunately he couldn't find his accomplices immediately."
+
+"Here is the datcha, anyway.  In the name of heaven, tell your driver
+to stop the horses here.  If the 'doctors' are already there it is we
+who shall have killed the general."
+
+"You are right."
+
+Koupriane moderated his excitement and that of his driver and horses,
+and the carriage stopped noiselessly, not far from the datcha.  Ermolai
+came toward them.
+
+"Priemkof?" faltered Koupriane.
+
+"He has gone again, Excellency."
+
+"How - gone again?"
+
+"Yes,, but he has brought the doctors."
+
+Koupriane crushed Rouletabille's wrist.  The doctors were there!
+
+"Madame Trebassof is better," continued Ermolal, who understood
+nothing of their emotion.  "The general is going to meet them and
+take them to his wife himself."
+
+"Where are they?"
+
+"They are waiting in the drawing-room."
+
+"Oh, Excellency, keep cool, keep cool, and all is not lost,"
+implored the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille and Koupriane slipped carefully into the garden.
+Ermolai followed them.
+
+"There?" inquired Koupriane.
+
+"There," Ermolai replied.
+
+>From the corner where they were, and looking through the veranda,
+they could see the "doctors" as they waited.
+
+They were seated in chairs side by side, in a corner of the
+drawing-room from where they could see every-thing in the room and
+a part of the garden, which they faced, and could hear everything.
+A window of the first-floor was open above their heads, so that
+they could hear any noise from there.  They could not be surprised
+from any side, and they held every door in view.  They were talking
+softly and tranquilly, looking straight before them.  They appeared
+young.  One had a pleasant face, pale but smiling, with rather long,
+curly hair; the other was more angular, with haughty bearing and
+grave face, an eagle nose and glasses.  Both wore long black coats
+buttoned over their calm chests.
+
+Koupriane and the reporter, followed by Ermolai, advanced with the
+greatest precaution across the lawn.  Screened by the wooden steps
+leading to the veranda and by the vine-clad balustrade, they got
+near enough to hear them.  Koupriane gave eager ear to the words
+of these two young men, who might have been so rich in the many
+years of life that naturally belonged to them, and who were about
+to die so horrible a death in destroying all about them.  They
+spoke of what time it was, of the softness of the night and the
+beauty of the sky; they spoke of the shadows under the birch-trees,
+of the gulf shining in the late evening's fading golden light, of
+the river's freshness and the sweetness of springtime in the North.
+That is what they talked about.  Koupriane murmured, "The assassins!"
+
+Now it was necessary to decide on action, and that necessity was
+horrible.  A false movement, an awkwardness, and the "doctors"
+would be warned, and everything lost.  They must have the bombs
+under their coats; there were certainly at least two "living bombs."
+Their chests, as they breathed, must heave to and fro and their
+hearts beat against an impending explosion.
+
+Above on the bedroom floor, they heard the rapid arranging of the
+room, steps on the floor and a confusion of voices; shadows passed
+across the window-space.  Koupriane rapidly interrogated Ermolai
+and learned that all the general's friends were there.  The two
+doctors had arrived only a couple of minutes before the Prefect of
+Police and the reporter.  The little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow had
+already gone, saying there was nothing more for him to do when two
+such celebrated specialists had arrived.  However, in spite of their
+celebrity, no one had ever heard the names they gave.  Koupriane
+believed the little doctor was an accomplice.  The most necessary
+thing was to warn those in the room above.  There was immediate
+danger that someone would come downstairs to find the doctors and
+take them to the general, or that the general would come down
+himself to meet them.  Evidently that was what they were waiting
+for.  They wished to die in his arms, to make sure that this time
+he did not escape them!  Koupriane directed Ermolai to go into the
+veranda and speak in a commonplace way to them at the threshold of
+the drawing-room door, saying that he would go upstairs and see if
+he might now escort them to Madame Trebassof's room.  Once in the
+room above, he could warn the others not to do anything but wait
+for Koupriane; then Ermolai was to come down and say to the men,
+"In just a moment, if you please."
+
+Erinolai crept back as far as the lodge, and then came quite
+normally up the path, letting the gravel crunch under his
+countrified footsteps.  He was an intelligent man, and grasped with
+extraordinary coolness the importance of the plan of campaign.
+Easily and naturally he mounted the veranda steps, paused at the
+threshold of the drawing-room, made the remark he had been told to
+make, and went upstairs.  Koupriane and Rouletabille now watched
+the bedroom windows.  The flitting shadows there suddenly became
+motionless.  All moving about ceased; no more steps were heard,
+nothing.  And that sudden silence made the two "doctors" raise
+their faces toward the ceiling.  Then they exchanged an aroused
+glance.  This change in the manner of things above was dangerous.
+Koupriane muttered, "The idiots!" It was such a blow for those
+upstairs to learn they walked over a mine ready to explode that
+it evidently had paralyzed their limbs.  Happily Ermolai came
+down almost immediately and said to the "doctors" in his very best
+domestic manner:
+
+"Just a second, messieurs, if you please."
+
+He did it still with utter naturalness.  And he returned to the
+ledge before he rejoined Koupriane and Rouletabille by way of the
+lawn.  Rouletabille, entirely cool, quite master of himself, as calm
+now as Koupriane was nervous, said to the Prefect of Police:
+
+"We must act now, and quickly.  They are commencing to be suspicious.
+Have you a plan?"
+
+"Here is all I can see," said Koupriane.  "Have the general come
+down by the narrow servants' stairway, and slip out of the house
+from the window of Natacha's sitting-room, with the aid of a twisted
+sheet.  Matrena Petrovna will come to speak to them during this
+time; that will keep them patient until the general is out of danger.
+As soon as Matrena has withdrawn into the garden, I will call my men,
+who will shoot them from a distance."
+
+"And the house itself?  And the general's friends?"
+
+"Let them try to get away, too, by the servants' stairway and jump
+from the window after the general.  We must try something.  Say that
+I have them at the muzzle of my revolver."
+
+"Your plan won't work," said Rouletabille, "unless the door of
+Natacha's sitting-room that opens on the drawing-room is closed."
+
+"It is.  I can see from here."
+
+"And unless the door of the little passage-way before that staircase
+that opens into the drawing-room is closed also, and you cannot see
+it from here."
+
+"That door is open," said Ermolai.
+
+Koupriane swore.  But he recovered himself promptly.
+
+"Madame Trebassof will close the door when she speaks to them."
+
+"It's impracticable," said the reporter.  "That will arouse their
+suspicions more than ever.  Leave it to me; I have a plan."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I have time to execute it, but not to tell you about it.  They
+have already waited too long.  I shall have to go upstairs, though.
+Ermolai will need to go with me, as with a friend of the family."
+
+"I'll go too."
+
+"That would give the whole show away, if they saw you, the Prefect
+of Police."
+
+"Why, no.  If they see me - and they know I ought to be there - as
+soon as I show myself to them they will conclude I don't know
+anything about it."
+
+" You are wrong."
+
+"It is my duty.  I should be near the general to defend him until
+the last."
+
+Rouletabille shrugged his shoulders before this dangerous heroism,
+but he did not stop to argue.  He knew that his plan must succeed
+at once, or in five minutes at the latest there would be only ruins,
+the dead and the dying in the datcha des Iles.
+
+Still he remained astonishingly calm.  In principle he had admitted
+that he was going to die.  The only hope of being saved which
+remained to them rested entirely upon their keeping perfectly cool
+and upon the patience of the living bombs.  Would they still have
+three minutes' patience?
+
+Ermolai went ahead of Koupriane and Rouletabille.  At the moment
+they reached the foot of the veranda steps the servant said loudly,
+repeating his lesson:
+
+"Oh, the general is waiting for you, Excellency.  He told me to
+have you come to him at once.  He is entirely well and Madame
+Trebassof also."
+
+When they were in the veranda, he added:
+
+"She is to see also, at once, these gentlemen, who will be able to
+tell her there is no more danger."
+
+And all three passed while Koupriane and Rodetabille vaguely saluted
+the two conspirators in the drawing-room.  It was a decisive moment.
+Recognizing Koupriane, the two Nihilists might well believe
+themselves discovered, as the reporter had said, and precipitate
+the catastrophe.  However, Ermolai, Koupriane and Rouletabille
+climbed the stairs to the bedroom like automatons, not daring to
+look behind them, and expecting the end each instant.  But neither
+stirred.  Ermolai went down again, by Rouletabille's order,
+normally, naturally, tranquilly.  They went into Matrena Petrovna's
+chamber.  Everybody was there.  It was a gathering of ghosts.
+
+Here was what had happened above.  That the "doctors" still remained
+below, that they had not been received instantly, in brief, that the
+catastrophe had been delayed up to now was due to Matrena Petrovna,
+whose watchful love, like a watch-dog, was always ready to scent
+danger.  These two "doctors" whose names she did not know, who
+arrived so late, and the precipitate departure of the little doctor
+of Vassili-Ostrow aroused her watchfulness.  Before allowing them
+to come upstairs to the general she resolved to have a look at them
+herself downstairs.  She arose from her bed for that; and now her
+presentiment was justified.  When she saw Ermolai, sober and
+mysterious, enter with Koupriane's message, she knew instinctively,
+before he spoke, that there were bombs in the house.  When Ermolai
+did speak it was a blow for everybody.  At first she, Matrena
+Perovna, had been a frightened, foolish figure in the big flowered
+dressing-gown belonging to Feodor that she had wrapped about her in
+her haste.  When Ermolai left, the general, who knew she only
+trembled for him, tried to reassure her, and, in the midst of the
+frightened silence of all of them, said a few words recalling the
+failure of all the previous attempts.  But she shook her head and
+trembled, shaking with fear for him, in agony at the thought that
+she could do nothing there above those living bombs but wait for
+them to burst.  As to the friends, already their limbs were ruined,
+absolutely ruined, in very truth.  For a moment they were quite
+incapable of moving.  The jolly Councilor of Empire, Ivan Petrovitch,
+had no longer a lively tale to tell, and the abominable prospect of
+" this horrible mix-up" right at hand rendered him much less gay
+than in his best hours at Cubat's place.  And poor Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff was whiter than the snow that covers old Lithuania's
+fields when the winter's chase is on.  Athanase Georgevitch himself
+was not brilliant, and his sanguine face had quite changed, as
+though he had difficulty in digesting his last masterpiece with
+knife and fork.  But, in justice to them, that was the first
+instantaneous effect.  No one could learn like tnat, all af a
+sudden, that they were about to die in an indiscriminate slaughter
+without the heart being stopped for a little.  Ermolai's words had
+turned these amiable loafers into waxen statues, but, little by
+little, their hearts commenced to beat again and each suggested
+some way of preventing the disaster - all of them sufficiently
+incoherent - while Matrena Petrovna invoked the Virgin and at the
+same time helped Feodor Feodorovitch adjust his sword and buckle
+his belt; for the general wished to die in uniform.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch, his eyes sticking out of his head and his body
+bent as though he feared the Nihlists just below him might perceive
+his tall form - through the floor, no doubt - proposed that they
+should throw themselves out of the window, even at the cost of
+broken legs.  The saddened Councilor of Empire declared that project
+simply idiotic, for as they fell they would be absolutely at the
+disposal of the Nihilists, who would be attracted by the noise and
+would make a handful of dust of them with a single gesture through
+the window.  Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, who couldn't think of anything
+at all, blamed Koupriane and the rest of the police for not having
+devised something.  Why hadn't they already got rid of these
+Nihilists?  After the frightened silence they had kept at first,
+now they all spoke at once, in low voices, hoarse and rapid, with
+shortened breath, making wild movements of the arms and head, and
+walked here and there in the chamber quite without motive, but very
+softly on tiptoe, going to the windows, returning, listening at the
+doors, peering through the key-holes, exchanging absurd suggestions,
+full of the wildest imaginings.  "If we should ... if ... if,"
+- everybody speaking and everybody making signs for the others to
+be quiet.  "Lower!  If they hear us, we are lost."  And Koupriane,
+who did not come, and his police, who themselves had brought two
+assassins into the house, and were not able now to make them leave
+without having everybody jump!  They were certainly lost.  There
+was nothing left but to say their prayers.  They turned to the
+general and Matrena Petrovna, who were wrapped in a close embrace.
+Feodor had taken the poor disheveled head of the good Matrena
+between his hands and pressed it upon his shoulders as he embraced
+her.  He said, "Rest quietly against my heart, Matrena Petrovna.
+Nothing can happen to us except what God wills."
+
+At that sight and that remark the others grew ashamed of their
+confusion.  The harmony of that couple embracing in the presence
+of death restored them to themselves, to their courage, and their
+"Nitchevo."  Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch and Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff repeated after Matrena Petrovna, "As God wills."
+And then they said "Nitchevo!  Nitchevo!*  We will all die with
+you, Feodor Feodorovitch."  And they all kissed one another and
+clasped one another in their arms, their eyes dim with love one for
+another, as at the end of a great banquet when they had eaten and
+drunk heavily in honor of one another.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+ *"What does it matter!"
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Listen.  Someone is coming up the stairs," whispered Matrena, with
+her keen ear, and she slipped from the restraint of her husband.
+
+Breathless, they all hurried to the door opening on the landing,
+but with steps as light "as though they walked on eggs."  All four
+of them were leaning over there close by the door, hardly daring
+to breathe.  They heard two men on the stairs.  Were they Koupriane
+and Rouletabille, or were they the others?  They had revolvers in
+their hands and drew back a little when the footsteps sounded near
+the door.  Behind them Trebassof was quietly seated in his chair.
+The door was opened and Koupriane and Rouletabille perceived these
+death-like figures, motionless and mute.  No one dared to speak or
+make a movement until the door had been closed.  But then:
+
+"Well?  Well?  Save us!  Where are they?  Ah, my dear little
+domovoi-doukh, save the general, for the love of the Virgin!"
+
+" Tsst!  tsst!  Silence."
+
+Rouletabille, very pale, but calm, spoke:
+
+"The plan is simple.  They are between the two staircases, watching
+the one and the other.  I will go and find them and make them mount
+the one while you descend by the other."
+
+"Caracho!  That is simple enough.  Why didn't we think of it sooner?
+Because everybody lost his head except the dear little domovoi-doukh!"
+
+But here something happened Rouletabille had not counted on.  The
+general rose and said, "You have forgotten one thing, my young
+friend; that is that General Trebassof will not descend by the
+servants' stairway."
+
+His friends looked at him in stupefaction, and asked if he had gone
+mad.
+
+"What is this you say, Feodor?" implored Matrena.
+
+"I say," insisted the general, "that I have had enough of this
+comedy, and that since Monsieur Koupriane has not been able to
+arrest these men, and since, on their side, they don't seem to
+decide to do their duty, I shall go myself and put them out of my
+house."
+
+He started a few steps, but had not his cane and suddenly he
+tottered.  Matrena Petrovna jumped to him and lifted him in her
+arms as though he were a feather.
+
+"Not by the servants' stairway, not by the servants' stairway,"
+growled the obstinate general.
+
+"You will go," Matrena replied to him, "by the way I take you."
+
+And she carried him back into the apartment while she said quickly
+to Rouletabille:
+
+"Go, little domovoi!  And God protect us!" 
+
+Rouletabille disappeared at once through the door to the main
+staircase, and the group attended by Koupriane, passed through the
+dressing-room and the general's chamber, Matrena Petrovna in the
+lead with her precious burden.  Ivan Petrovitch had his hand
+already on the famous bolt which locked the door to the servants'
+staircase when they all turned at the sound of a quick step behind
+them.  Rouletabille had returned.
+
+"They are no longer in the drawing-room."
+
+"Not in the drawing-room!  Where are they, then?"
+
+Rouletabille pointed to the door they were about to open.
+
+"Perhaps behind that door.  Take care!"
+
+All drew back.
+
+"But Ermolai ought to know where they are," exclaimed Koupriane.
+"Perhaps they have gone, finding out they were discovered."
+
+"They have assassinated Ermolai."
+
+"Assassinated Ermolai!"
+
+"I have seen his body lying in the middle of the drawing-room as I
+leaned over the top of the banister.  But they were not in the room,
+and I was afraid you would run into them, for they may well be hidden
+in the servants' stairway."
+
+"Then open the window, Koupriane, and call your men to deliver us."
+
+"I am quite willing," replied Koupriane coldly, "but it is the
+signal for our deaths."
+
+"Well, why do they wait so to make us die?" muttered Feodor
+Feodorovitch.  "I find them very tedious about it, for myself.
+What are you doing, Ivan Petrovitch?"
+
+The spectral figure of Ivan Petrovitch, bent beside the door of the
+stairway, seemed to be hearing things the others could not catch,
+but which frightened them so that they fled from the general's
+chamber in disorder.  Ivan Petrovitch was close on them, his eyes
+almost sticking from his head, his mouth babbling:
+
+"They are there!  They are there!"
+
+Athanase Georgevitch open a window wildly and said:
+
+"I am going to jump."
+
+But Thaddeus Tchitchnikofl' stopped him with a word.  "For me, I
+shall not leave Feodor Feodorovitch."
+
+Athanase and Ivan both felt ashamed, and trembling, but brave, they
+gathered round the general and said, "We will die together, we will
+die together.  We have lived with Feodor Feodorovitch, and we will
+die with him."
+
+"What are they waiting for?   What are they waiting for?" grumbled
+the general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna's teeth chattered.  "They are waiting for us to
+go down," said Koupraine.
+
+"Very well, let us do it.  This thing must end," said Feodor.
+
+"Yes, yes," they all said, for the situation was becoming
+intolerable; "enough of this.  Go on down. Go on down.  God, the
+Virgin and Saints Peter and Paul protect us.  Let us go."
+
+The whole group, therefore, went to the main staircase, with the
+movements of drunken men, fantastic waving of the arms, mouths
+speaking all together, saying things no one but themselves
+understood.  Rouletabille had already hurriedly preceded them, was
+down the staircase, had time to throw a glance into the drawing-room,
+stepped over Ermolai's huge corpse, entered Natacha's sitting-room
+and her chamber, found all these places deserted and bounded back
+into the veranda at the moment the others commenced to descend
+the steps around Feodor Feodorovitch.  The reporter's eyes searched
+all the dark corners and had perceived nothing suspicious when, in
+the veranda, he moved a chair.  A shadow detached itself from it
+and glided under the staircase.  Rouletabille cried to the group
+on the stairs.
+
+"They are under the staircase!"
+
+Then Rouletabille confronted a sight that he could never forget all
+his life.
+
+At this cry, they all stopped, after an instinctive move to go back.
+Feodor Feodorovitch, who was still in Matrena Petrovna's arms, cried:
+
+"Vive le Tsar!"
+
+And then, those whom the reporter half expected to see flee,
+distracted, one way and another, or to throw themselves madly from
+the height of the steps, abandoning Feodor and Matrena, gathered
+themselves instead by a spontaneous movement around the general,
+like a guard of honor, in battle, around the flag.  Koupriane
+marched ahead.   And they insisted also upon descending the terrible
+steps slowly, and sang the Bodje tsara Krani, the national anthem!
+  
+With an overwhelming roar, which shocked earth and sky and the ears
+of Rouletabille, the entire house seemed lifted in the air; the
+staircase rose amid flame and smoke, and the group which sang the
+Bodje tsara Krani disappeared in a horrible apotheosis.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+THE MARSHES
+
+They ascertained the next day that there had been two explosions,
+almost simultaneous, one under each staircase.  The two Nihilists,
+when they felt themselves discovered, and watched by Ermolai, had
+thrown themselves silently on him as he turned his back in passing
+them, and strangled him with a piece of twine.  Then they separated
+each to watch one of the staircases, reasoning that Koupriane and
+General Trebassof would have to decide to descend.
+
+The datcha des Iles was nothing now but a smoking ruin.  But from
+the fact that the living bombs had exploded separately the
+destructive effect was diffused, and although there were numerous
+wounded, as in the case of the attack on the Stolypine datcha, at
+least no one was killed outright; that is, excepting the two
+Nihilists, of whom no trace could be found save a few rags.
+
+Rouletabille had been hurled into the garden and he was glad enough
+to escape so, a little shaken, but without a scratch.  The group
+composed of Feodor and his friends were strangely protected by the
+lightness of the datcha's construction.  The iron staircase, which,
+so to speak, almost hung to the two floors, being barely attached
+at top and bottom, raised under them and then threw them off as it
+broke into a thousand pieces, but only after, by its very yielding,
+it had protected them from the first force of the bomb.  They had
+risen from the ruins without mortal wounds.  Koupriane had a hand
+badly burned, Athanase Georgevitch had his nose and cheeks seriously
+hurt, Ivan Petrovitch lost an ear; the most seriously injured was
+Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, both of whose legs were broken.
+Extraordinarily enough, the first person who appeared, rising from
+the midst of the wreckage, was Matrena Petrovna, still holding
+Feodor in her arms.  She had escaped with a few burns and the
+general, saved again by the luck of the soldier whom Death does not
+want, was absolutely uninjured.  Feodor gave shouts of joy.  They
+strove to quiet him, because, after all, around him some poor
+wretches had been badly hurt, as well as poor Ermolai, who lay
+there dead.  The domestics in the basement had been more seriously
+wounded and burned because the main force of the explosion had gone
+downwards; which had probably saved the personages above.
+
+Rouletabille had been taken with the other victims to a neighboring
+datcha; but as soon as he had shaken himself free of that terrible
+nightmare he escaped from the place.  He really regretted that he
+was not dead.  These successive waves of events had swamped him;
+and he accused himself alone of all this disaster.  With acutest
+anxiety he had inquired about the condition of each of "his victims."
+Feodor had not been wounded, but now he was almost delirious, asking
+every other minute as the hours crept on for Natacha, who had not
+reappeared.  That unhappy girl Rouletabille had steadily believed
+innocent.  Was she a culprit?  "Ah, if she had only chosen to!  If
+she had had confidence," he cried, raising anguished hands towards
+heaven, 'none of all this need have happened.  No one would have
+attacked and no one would ever again attack the life of Trebassof.
+For I was not wrong in claiming before Koupriane that the general's
+life was in my hand, and I had the right to say to him, 'Life for
+life!  Give me Matiew's and I will give you the general's.' And now
+there has been one more fruitless attempt to kill Feodor
+Feodorovitch and it is Natacha's fault - that I swear, because she
+would not listen to me.  And is Natacha implicated in it?  0 my God"
+Rouletabille asked this vain question of the Divinity, for he
+expected no more help in answering it on earth.
+
+Natacha!  Innocent or guilty, where was she?  What was she doing?
+to know that!  To know if one were right or wrong - and if one were
+wrong, to disappear, to die!
+
+Thus the unhappy Rouletabille muttered as he walked along the bank
+of the Neva, not far from the ruins of the poor datcha, where the
+joyous friends of Feodor Feodorovitch would have no more good
+dinners, never; so he soliloquized, his head on fire.
+
+And, all at once, he recovered trace of the young girl, that trace
+lost earlier, a trace left at her moment of flight, after the
+poisoning and before the explosion.  And had he not in that a
+terrible coincidence?  Because the poison might well have been only
+in preparation for the final attack, the pretext for the tragic
+arrival of the two false doctors.   Natacha, Natacha, the living
+mystery surrounded already by so many dead!
+
+Not far from the ruins of the datcha Rouletabille soon made sure
+that a group of people had been there the night before, coming
+from the woods near-by, and returning to them.  He was able to be
+sure of this because the boundaries of the datcha had been guarded
+by troops and police as soon as the explosion took place, under
+orders to keep back the crowd that hurried to Eliaguine.  He looked
+attentively at the grass, the ferns, the broken and trampled twigs.
+Certainly a struggle had occurred there.  He could distinguish
+clearly in the soft earth of a narrow glade the prints of Natacha's
+two little boots among all the large footprints.
+
+He continued his search with his heart heavier and heavier, he had
+a presentiment that he was on the point of discovering a new
+misfortune.  The footprints passed steadily under the branches along
+the side of the Neva.  From a bush he picked a shred of white cloth,
+and it seemed to him a veritable battle had taken place there.
+Torn branches strewed the grass.  He went on.  Very close to the
+bank he saw by examination of the soil, where there was no more
+trace of tiny heels and little soles, that the woman who had been
+found there was carried, and carried, into a boat, of which the
+place of fastening to the bank was still visible.
+
+"They have carried off Natacha," he cried in a surge of anguish.
+" bungler that I am, that is my fault too - all my fault - all my
+fault!  They wished to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch's death, for
+which they hold Natacha responsible, and they have kidnapped her."
+
+His eyes searched the great arm of the river for a boat.  The river
+was deserted.  Not a sail, nothing visible on the dead waters!
+"What shall I do?  What shall I do?  I must save her."
+
+He resumed his course along the river.  Who could give him any
+useful information?  He drew near a little shelter occupied by a
+guard.  The guard was speaking to an officer.  Perhaps he had
+noticed something during his watch that evening along the river.
+That branch of the river was almost always deserted after the day
+was over.  A boat plying between these shores in the twilight would
+certainly attract attention.  Rouletabille showed the guard the
+paper Koupriane had given him in the beginning, and with the officer
+(who turned out to be a police officer) as interpreter, he asked his
+questions.  As a matter of fact the guard had been sufficiently
+puzzled by the doings and comings of a light boat which, after
+disappearing for an instant, around the bend of the river, had
+suddenly rowed swiftly out again and accosted a sailing-yacht which
+appeared at the opening of the gulf.  It was one of those small but
+rapid and elegant sailing craft such as are seen in the Lachtka
+regattas.
+
+Lachtka!  "The Bay of Lachtka!"
+
+The word was a ray of light for the reporter, who recalled now the
+counsel Gounsovski had given him.  "Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and
+tell me then if you still believe Natacha is innocent!"  Gounsovski
+must have known when he said this that Natacha had embarked in
+company with the Nihilists, but evidently he was ignorant that she
+had gone with them under compulsion, as their prisoner.
+
+Was it too late to save Natacha?  In any case, before he died, he
+would try in every way possible, so as at least to have kept her
+as much as he could from the disaster for which he held himself
+responsible.  He ran to the Barque, near the Point.
+
+His voice was firm as he hailed the canoe of the floating restaurant
+where, thanks to him, Koupriane had been thwarted in impotent anger.
+He had himself taken to just below Staria-Derevnia and jumped out
+at the spot where he saw little Katharina disappear a few days
+before.  He landed in the mud and climbed on hands and knees up the
+slope of a roadway which followed the bank.  This bank led to the
+Bay of Lachtka, not far from the frontier of Finland.
+
+On Rouletabille's left lay the sea, the immense gulf with slight
+waves; to his right was the decaying stretch of the marsh.  Stagnant
+water stretching to the horizon, coarse grass and reeds, an
+extraordinary tangle of water-plants, small ponds whose greenish
+scum did not stir under the stiff breeze, water that was heavy and
+dirty.  Along this narrow strip of land thrust thus between the
+marsh, the sky and the sea, he hurried, with many stumblings, his
+eyes fixed on the deserted gulf.  Suddenly he turned his head at
+a singular noise.  At first he didn't see anything, but heard in
+the distance a vague clamoring while a sort of vapor commenced to
+rise from the marsh.  And then he noticed, nearer him, the high
+marsh grasses undulating.  Finally he saw a countless flock rising
+from the bed of the marshes.  Beasts, groups of beasts, whose horns
+one saw like bayonets, jostled each other trying to keep to the firm
+land.  Many of them swam and on the backs of some were naked men,
+stark naked, with hair falling to their shoulders and streaming
+behind them like manes.  They shouted war-cries and waved their
+clubs.  Rouletabille stopped short before this prehistoric invasion.
+He would never have imagined that a few miles from the Newsky
+Prospect he could have found himself in the midst of such a
+spectacle.  These savages had not even a loin-cloth.  Where did they
+come from with their herd?  From what remote place in the world or
+in old and gone history had they emerged?  What was this new
+invasion?  What prodigious slaughter-house awaited these unruly
+herds?  They made a noise like thunder in the marsh.  Here were a
+thousand unkempt haunches undulating in the marsh like the ocean as
+a storm approaches.  The stark-naked men jumped along the route,
+waving their clubs, crying gutturally in a way the beasts seemed
+to understand.  They worked their way out from the marsh and turned
+toward the city, leaving behind, to swathe the view of them a while
+and then fade away, a pestilential haze that hung like an aura about
+the naked, long-haired men.  It was terrible and magnificent.  In
+order not to be shoved into the water, Rouletabille had climbed a
+small rock that stood beside the route, and had waited there as
+though petrified himself.  When the barbarians had finally passed
+by he climbed down again, but the route had become a bog of
+trampled filth.
+
+Happily, he heard the noise of a primitive conveyance behind him.
+It was a telega.  Curiously primitive, the telega is four-wheeled,
+with two planks thrown crudely across the axle-trees.  Rouletabille
+gave the man who was seated in it thee roubles, and jumped into
+the planks beside him, and the two little Finnish horses, whose
+manes hung clear to the mud, went like the wind.  Such crude
+conveyances are necessary on such crude roads, but it requires a
+strong constitution to make a journey on them.  Still, the reporter
+felt none of the jolting, he was so intent on the sea and the coast
+of Lachtka Bay.  The vehicle finally reached a wooden bridge, across
+a murky creek.  As the day commenced to fade colorlessly,
+Rouletabille jumped off onto the shore and his rustic equipage
+crossed to the Sestroriesk side.  It was a corner of land black and
+somber as his thoughts that he surveyed now.  "Watch the Bay of
+Lachtka!"  The reporter knew that this desolate plain, this
+impenetrable marsh, this sea which offered the fugitive refuge in
+innumerable fords, had always been a useful retreat for Nihilistic
+adventurers.  A hundred legends circulated in St. Petersburg about
+the mysteries of Lachtka marshes.  And that gave him his last hope.
+Maybe he would be able to run across some revolutionaries to whom
+he could explain about Natacha, as prudently as possible; he might
+even see Natacha herself.  Gounsovski could not have spoken vain
+words to him.
+
+Between the Lachtkrinsky marsh and the strand he perceived on the
+edge of the forests which run as far as Sestroriesk a little wooden
+house whose walls were painted a reddish-brown, and its roof green.
+It was not the Russian isba, but the Finnish touba.  However, a
+Russian sign announced it to be a restaurant.  The young man had to
+take only a few steps to enter it.  He was the only customer there.
+An old man, with glasses and a long gray beard, evidently the
+proprietor of the establishment, stood behind the counter, presiding
+over the zakouskis.  Rouletabille chose some little sandwiches which
+he placed on a plate.  He took a bottle of pivo and made the man
+understand that later, if it were possible, he would like a good hot
+supper.  The other made a sign that he understood and showed him
+into an adjoining room which was used for diners.  Rouletabille was
+quite ready enough to die in the face of his failures, but he did
+not wish to perish from hunger.
+
+A table was placed beside a window looking out over the sea and
+over the entrance to the bay.  It could not have been better and,
+with his eye now on the horizon, now on the estuary near-by, he
+commenced to eat with gloomy avidity.  He was inclined to feel sorry
+for himself, to indulge in self-pity.  "Just the same, two and two
+always make four," he said to himself; "but in my calculations
+perhaps I have forgotten the surd.  "Ah, there was a time when I
+would not have overlooked anything.  And even now I haven't
+overlooked anything, if Natacha is innocent!"  Having literally
+scoured the plate, he struck the table a great blow with his fist
+and said:  "She is!"
+
+Just then the door opened.  Rouletabille supposed the proprietor of
+the place was entering.
+
+It was Koupriane.
+
+He rose, startled.  He could not imagine by what mystery the Prefect
+of Police had made his way there, but he rejoiced from the bottom
+of his heart, for if he was trying to rescue Natacha from the hands
+of the revolutionaries Koupriane would be a valuable ally.  He
+clapped the Prefect on the shoulder.
+
+"Well, well!" he said, almost joyfully.  "I certainly did not expect
+you here.  How is your wound?"
+
+"Nitchevo!  Not worth speaking about; it's nothing."
+
+"And the general and -!  Ah, that frightful night! And those two
+unfortunates who -?"
+
+"Nitchevo!  Nitchevo!"
+
+"And poor Ermolai!"
+
+"Nitchevo!  Nitchevo!  It is nothing."
+
+Rouletabille looked him over.  The Prefect of Police had an arm in
+a sling, but he was bright and shining as a new ten-rouble piece,
+while he, poor Rouletabille, was so abominably soiled and depressed.
+Where did he come from?  Koupriane understood his look and smiled.
+
+"Well, I have just come from the Finland train; it is the best way."
+
+"But what can you have come here to do, Excellency?"
+
+"The same thing as you."
+
+"Bah!" exclaimed Rouletabille, "do you mean to say that you have
+come here to save Natacha?"
+
+"How - to save her!  I come to capture her."
+
+"To capture her?"
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, I have a very fine little dungeon in Saints
+Peter and Paul fortress that is all ready for her."
+
+"You are going to throw Natacha into a dungeon!"
+
+"The Emperor's order, Monsieur Rouletabille.  And if you see me
+here in person it is simply because His Majesty requires that the
+thing be done as respectfully and discreetly as possible."
+
+"Natacha in prison!" cried the reporter, who saw in horror all
+obstacles rising before him at one and the same time.  "For what
+reasons, pray?"
+
+"The reason is simple enough.  Natacha Feodorovna is the last word
+in wickedness and doesn't deserve anybody's pity.  She is the
+accomplice of tbe revolutionaries and the instigator of all the
+crimes against her father."
+
+"I am sure that you are mistaken, Excellency.  But how have you
+been guided to her?"
+
+"Simply by you."
+
+"By me?"
+
+"Yes, we lost all trace of Natacha.  But, as you had disappeared
+also, I made up my mind that you could only be occupied in searching
+for her, and that by finding you I might have the chance to lay my
+hands on her."
+
+"But I haven't seen any of your men?"
+
+"Why, one of them brought you here."
+
+"Me?"
+
+"Yes, you.  Didn't you climb onto a telega?"
+
+"Ah, the driver."
+
+"Exactly.  I had arranged to have him meet me at the Sestroriesk
+station.  He pointed out the place where you dropped off, and here
+I am."
+
+The reporter bent his head, red with chagrin.  Decidedly the
+sinister idea that he was responsible for the death of an innocent
+man and all the ills which had followed out of it had paralyzed his
+detective talents.  He recognized it now.  What was the use of
+struggling!  If anyone had told him that he would be played with
+that way sometime, he, Rouletabille!  he would have laughed heartily
+enough - then.  But now, well, he wasn't capable of anything further.
+He was his own most cruel enemy.  Not only was Natacha in the hands
+of the revolutionaries through his fault, by his abominable error,
+but worse yet, in the very moment when he wished to save her, he
+foolishly, naively, had conducted the police to the very spot where
+they should have been kept away.  It was the depth of his
+humiliation; Koupriane really pitied the reporter. 
+
+"Come, don't blame yourself too much," said he.  "We would have
+found Natacha without you; Gounsovski notified us that she was going
+to embark in the Bay of Lachtka this evening with Priemkof."
+
+"Natacha with Priemkof!" exclaimed Rouletabille.  "Natacha with the
+man who introduced the two living bombs into her father's house!  If
+she is with him, Excellency, it is because she is his prisoner, and
+that alone will be sufficient to prove her innocence.  I thank the
+Heaven that has sent you here."
+
+Koupriane swallowed a glass of vodka, poured another after it, and
+finally deigned to translate his thought:
+
+"Natacha is the friend of these precious men and we will see them
+disembark hand in hand."
+
+"Your men, then, haven't studied the traces of the struggle that
+'these precious men' have had on the banks of the Neva before they
+carried away Natacha?"
+
+"Oh, they haven't been hoodwinked.  As a matter of fact, the struggle
+was quite too visible not to have been done for appearances' sake.
+What a child you are!  Can't you see that Natacha's presence in the
+datcha had become quite too dangerous for that charming young girl
+after the poisoning of her father and step-mother failed and at the
+moment when her comrades were preparing to send General Trebassof a
+pleasant little gift of dynamite?  She arranged to get away and yet
+to appear kidnapped.  It is too simple."
+
+Rouletabille raised his head.
+
+"There is something simpler still to imagine than the culpability
+of Natacha.  It is that Priemkof schemed to pour the poison into
+the flask of vodka, saying to himself that if the poison didn't
+succeed at least it would make the occasion for introducing his
+dynamite into the house in the pockets of the 'doctors' that they
+would go to find."
+
+Koupriane seized Rouletabille's wrist and threw some terrible words
+at him, looking into the depths of his eyes:
+
+"It was not Priemkof who poured the poison, because there was no
+poison in the flask."
+
+Rouletabille, as he heard this extraordinary declaration, rose,
+more startled than he had ever been in the course of this startling
+campaign.
+
+If there was no poison in the flask, the poison must have been
+poured directly into the glasses by a person who was in the kiosk!
+Now, there were only four persons in the kiosk: the two who were
+poisoned and Natacha and himself, Rouletabille.  And that kiosk
+was so perfectly isolated that it was impossible for any other
+persons than the four who were there to pour poison upon the table.
+
+"But it is not possible!" he cried.
+
+"It is so possible that it is so.  Pere Alexis dedared that there
+is no poison in the flask, and I ought to tell you that an analysis
+I had made after his bears him out.  There was no poison, either,
+in the small bottle you took to Pere Alexis and into which you
+yourself had poured the contents of Natacha's glass and yours; no
+trace of poison excepting in two of the four glasses, arsenate of
+soda was found only on the soiled napkins of Trebassof and his wife
+and in the two glasses they drank from."
+
+"Oh, that is horrible," muttered the stupefied reporter; "that is
+horrible, for then the poisoner must be either Natacha or me."
+
+"I have every confidence in you," declared Koupriane with a great
+laugh of satisfaction, striking him on the shoulder.  "And I arrest
+Natacha, and you who love logic ought to be satisfied now."
+
+Rouletabille hadn't a word more to say.  He sat down again and let
+his head fall into his hands, like one sleep has seized.
+
+"Ah, our young girls; you don't know them.  They are terrible,
+terrible!" said Koupriane, lighting a big cigar.  "Much more
+terrible than the boys.  In good families the boys still enjoy
+themselves; but the girls - they read!  It goes to their heads.
+They are ready for anything; they know neither father nor mother.
+Ah, you are a child, you cannot comprehend.  Two lovely eyes, a
+melancholy air, a soft, low voice, and you are captured - you
+believe you have before you simply an inoffensive, good little
+girl.  Well, Rouletabille, here is what I will tell you for your
+instruction.  There was the time of the Tchipoff attack; the
+revolutionaries who were assigned to kill Tchipoff were disguised
+as coachmen and footmen.  Everthing had been carefully prepared
+and it would seem that no one could have discovered the bombs in
+the place they had been stored.  Well, do you know the place where
+those bombs were found?  In the rooms of the governor, of Wladmir's
+daughter!  Exactly, my little friend, just there!  The rooms of
+the governor's daughter, Mademoiselle Alexeieiv. Ah, these young
+girls!  Besides, it was this same Mademoiselle Alexeieiv who, so
+prettily, pierced the brain of an honest Swiss merchant who had the
+misfortune to resemble one of our ministers.  If we had hanged that
+charming young girl earlier, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille, that
+last catastrophe might have been avoided.  A good rope around the
+neck of all these little females - it is the only way, the only
+way!"
+
+A man entered.  Rouletabille recognized the driver of the telega.
+There were some rapid words between the Chief and the agent.  The
+man closed the shutters of the room, but through the interstices
+they would be able to see what went on outside.  Then the agent left;
+Koupriane, as he pushed aside the table that was near the window,
+said to the reporter:
+
+"You had better come to the window; my man has just told me the boat
+is drawing near.  You can watch an interesting sight.  We are sure
+that Natacha is still aboard.  The yacht, after the explosion at
+the datcha, took up two men who put off to it in a canoe, and since
+then it has simply sailed back and forth in the gulf.  We have taken
+our precautions in Finland the same as here and it is here they are
+going to try to disembark.  Keep an eye on them."
+
+Koupriane was at his post of observation.  Evening slowly fell.
+The sky was growing grayish-black, a tint that blended with the
+slate-colored sea.  To those on the bank, the sound of the men
+about to die came softly across the water.  There was a sail far
+out.  Between the strand and the touba where Koupriane watched, was
+a ridge, a window, which, however, did not hide the shore or the bay
+from the prefect of police, because at the height where he was his
+glance passed at an angle above it.  But from the sea this ridge
+entirely hid anyone who lay in ambush behind it.  The reporter
+watched fifty moujiks flat on their stomachs crawling up the ridge,
+behind two of their number whose heads alone topped the ridge.  In
+the line of gaze taken by those two heads was the white sail,
+looming much larger now.  The yacht was heeled in the water and
+glided with real elegance, heading straight on.  Suddenly, just
+when they supposed she was coming straight to shore, the sails fell
+and a canoe was dropped over the side.  Four men got into it; then
+a woman jumped lightly down a little gangway into the canoe.  It
+was Natacha.  Koupriane had no difficulty in recognizing her through
+the gathering darkness.
+
+"Ah, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille," said he, "see your prisoner of
+the Nihilists.  Notice how she is bound.  Her thongs certainly are
+causing her great pain.  These revolutionaries surely are brutes!"
+
+The truth was that Natacha had gone quite readily to the rudder and
+while the others rowed she steered the light boat to the place on
+the beach that had been pointed out to her.  Soon the prow of the
+canoe touched the sands.  There did not seem to be a soul about,
+and that was the conclusion the men in the canoe who stood up
+looking around, seemed to reach.  They jumped out, and then it was
+Natacha's turn.  She accepted the hand held out to her, talking
+pleasantly with the men all the time.  She even turned to press the
+hand of one of them.  The group came up across the beach.  All this
+time the watchers in the little eating-house could see the false
+moujiks, who had wriggled on their stomachs to the very edge of the
+ridge, hold ing themselves ready to spring.
+
+Behind his shutter, Koupriane could not restrain an exclamation of
+triumph; he gradually identified some of the figures in the group,
+and muttered:
+
+"Eh!  eh!  There is Priemkof himself and the others.  Gounsovski is
+right and he certainly is well-informed; his system is decidedly a
+good one.  What a net-full!"
+
+He hardly breathed as he watched the outcome.  He could discern
+elsewhere, beside the bay, flat on the ground, concealed by the
+slightest elevation of the soil, other false moujiks.  The wood of
+Sestroriesk was watched in the same way.  The group of
+revolutionaries who strolled behind Natacha stopped to confer.  In
+three - maybe two - minutes, they would be surrounded - cut off,
+taken in the trap.  Suddenly a gunshot sounded in the night, and
+the group, with startled speed, turned in their tracks and made
+silently for the sea, while from all directions poured the concealed
+agents and threw themselves into the pursuit, jostling each other
+and crying after the fugitives.  But the cries became cries of rage,
+for the group of revolutionaries gained the beach.  They saw Natacha,
+who was held up by Priemkof himself, reject the aid of the Nihilist,
+who did not wish to abandon her, in order that he might save himself.
+She made him go and seeing that she was going to be taken, stopped
+short and waited for the enemy stoically, with folded arms.
+Meanwhile, her three companions succeeded in throwing themselves
+into the canoe and plied the oars hard while Koupriane's men, in
+the water up to their chests, discharged their revolvers at the
+fugitives.  The men in the canoe, fearing to wound Natacha, made
+no reply to the firing.  The yacht had sails up by the time they
+drew alongside, and made off like a bird toward the mysterious
+fords of Finland, audaciously hoisting the black flag of the
+Revolution.
+
+Meantime, Koupriane's agents, trembling before his anger, gathered
+at the eating-house.  The Prefect of Police let his fury loose on
+them and treated them like the most infamous of animals.  The
+capture of Natacha was little comfort.  He had planned for the whole
+bag, and his men's stupidity took away all his self-control.  If he
+had had a whip at hand he would have found prompt solace for his
+mined hopes.  Natacha, standing in a corner, with her face singularly
+calm, watched this extraordinary scene that was like a menagerie in
+which the tamer himself had become a wild beast.  From another
+corner, Rouletabille kept his eyes fixed on Natacha who ignored him.
+Ah, that girl, sphinx to them all!  Even to him who thought a while
+ago that he could read things invisible to other vulgar men in her
+features, in her eyes!  The impassive face of that girl whose father
+they had tried to assassinate only a few hours before and who had
+just pressed the hand of Priemkof, the assassin!  Once she turned
+her head slightly toward Rouletabille.  The reporter then looked
+towards her with increased eagerness, his eyes burning, as though
+he would say: "Surely, Natacha, you are not the accomplice of your
+father's assassins; surely it was not you who poured the poison!"
+
+But Natacha's glance passed the reporter coldly over.  Ah, that
+mysterious, cold mask, the mouth with its bitter, impudent smile,
+an atrocious smile which seemed to say to the reporter: "If it is
+not I who poured the poison, then it is you!"
+
+It was the visage common enough to the daughters whom Koupriane had
+spoken of a little while before, "the young girls who read" and,
+their reading done, set themselves to accomplish some terrible
+thing, some thing because of which, from time to time, they place
+stiff ropes around the necks of these young females.
+
+Finally, Koupriane's frenzy wore itself out and he made a sign.
+The men filed out in dismal silence.  Two of them remained to
+guard Natacha.  From outside came the sounds of a carriage from
+Sestroriesk ready to convey the girl to the Dungeons of Sts. Peter
+and Paul.  A final gesture from the Prefect of Police and the
+rough bands of the two guards seized the prisoner's frail wrists.
+They hustled her along, thrust her outside, jamming her against
+the doorway, venting thus their anger at the reproaches of their
+chief.  A few seconds later the carriage departed, not to stop
+until the fortress was reached with the trickling tombs under the 
+bed of theriver where young girls about to die are confined - who 
+have read too much, without entirely understanding, as Monsieur
+Kropotkine says.
+
+Koupriane prepared to leave in turn.  Rouletabille stopped him.
+
+"Excellency, I wish you to tell me why you have shown such anger
+to your men just now."
+
+"They are brute beasts," cried the Chief of Police, quite beside
+himself again.  "They have made me miss the biggest catch of my
+life.  They threw themselves on the group two minutes too early.
+Some of them fired a gun that they took for the signal and that
+served to warn the Nihilists.  But I will let them all rot in prison
+until I learn which one fired that shot."
+
+"You needn't look far for that," said Rouletabille.  "I did it."
+
+"You!  Then you must have gone outside the touba?"
+
+"Yes, in order to warn them.  But still I was a little late, since
+you did take Natacha."
+
+Koupriane's eyes blazed.
+
+"You are their accomplice in all this," he hurled at the reporter,
+"and I am going to the Tsar for permission to arrest you."
+
+"Hurry, then, Excellency," replied the reporter coldly, "because
+the Nihilists, who also think they have a little account to settle
+with me, may reach me before you."
+
+And he saluted.
+
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+"I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU"
+
+At the hotel a note from Gounsovski: "Don't forget this time to come
+to-morrow to have luncheon with me.  Warmest regards from Madame
+Gounsovski."  Then a horrible, sleepless night, shaken with echoes
+of explosions and the clamor of the wounded; and the solemn shade
+of Pere Alexis, stretching out toward Rouletabille a phial of poison
+and saying, "Either Natacha or you!"  Then, rising among the shades
+the bloody form of Michael Nikolaievitch the Innocent!
+
+In the morning a note from the Marshal of the Court.
+
+Monsieur le Marechal had no particular good news, evidently, for in
+terms quite without enthusiasm he invited the young man to luncheon
+for that same day, rather early, at midday, as he wished to see him
+once more before he left for France.  "I see," said Rouletabille to
+himself; "Monsieur le Marechal pronounces my expulsion from the
+country "- and he forgot once more the Gounsovski luncheon.  The
+meeting-place named was the great restaurant called the Bear.
+Rouletabille entered it promptly at noon.  He asked the schwitzar if
+the Grand Marshal of the Court had arrived, and was told no one had
+seen him yet.  They conducted him to the huge main hall, where,
+however, there was only one person.  This man, standing before the
+table spread with zakouskis, was stuffing himself.  At the sound of
+Rouletabille's step on the floor this sole famished patron turned
+and lifted his hands to heaven as he recognized the reporter.  The 
+atter would have given all the roubles in his pocket to have avoided
+the recognition.  But he was already face to face with the advocate
+so celebrated for his table-feats, the amiable Athanase Georgevitch,
+his head swathed in bandages and dressings from the midst of which
+one could perceive distinctly only the eyes and, above all, the
+mouth.
+
+"How goes it, little friend?"
+
+"How are you?"
+
+"Oh, I!  There is nothing the matter.  In a week we shall have
+forgotten it."
+
+"What a terrible affair," said the reporter, "I certainly believed
+we were all dead men."
+
+"No, no.  It was nothing.  Nitchevo!"
+
+"And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff with his two poor legs broken!"
+
+"Eh!  Nitchevo!  He has plenty of good solid splints that will make
+him two good legs again.  Nitchevo!  Don't you think anything more
+about that!  It is nothing.  You have come here to dine?  A very
+celebrated house this.  Caracho!"  He busied himself to do the
+honors.  One would have said the restaurant belonged to him.  He
+boasted of its architecture and the cuisine "a la Francaise."
+
+"Do you know," he inquired confidently, "a finer restaurant room
+anywhere in the world?"
+
+In fact, it seemed to Rouletabille as he looked up into the high
+glass arch that he was in a railway station decorated for some
+illustrious traveler, for there were flowers and plants everywhere.
+But the visitor whom the ball awaited was the Russian eater, the
+ogre who never failed to come to eat at The Bear.  Pointing out the
+lines of tables shining with their white cloths and bright silver,
+Athanase Georgevitch, with his mouth full, said:
+
+"Ah, my dear little French monsieur, you should see it at
+supper-time, with the women, and the jewels, and the music.  There
+is nothing in France that can give you any idea of it, nothing!  The
+gayety - the champagne - and the jewels, monsieur, worth millions
+and millions of roubles!  Our women wear them all - everything they
+have.  They are decked like sacred shrines!  All the family jewels
+- from the very bottom of the caskets!   it is magnificent,
+thoroughly Russian - Muscovite!  What am I saying?  It is Asiatic.
+Monsieur, in the evening, at a fete, we are Asiatic.  Let me tell
+you something on the quiet.  You notice that this enormous dining 
+ail is surrounded by those windowed balconies.  Each of those
+windows belongs to a separate private room.  Well, you see that
+window there?  - yes, there - that is the room of a grand duke - yes,
+he's the one I mean - a very gay grand duke.  Do you know, one
+evening when there was a great crowd here - families, monsieur,
+family parties, high-born families - the window of that particular
+balcony was thrown open, and a woman stark naked, as naked as my
+hand, monsieur, was dropped into the dining-hall and ran across it
+full-speed.  It was a wager, monsieur, a wager of the jolly grand
+duke's, and the demoiselle won it.  But what a scandal!  Ah, don't
+speak of it; that would be very bad form.  But - sufficiently
+Asiatic, eh?  Truly Asiatic.  And - something much more unfortunate
+- you see that table?  It happened the Russian New Year Eve, at
+supper.  All the beauty, the whole capital, was here.  Just at
+midnight the orchestra struck up the Bodje tsara krani* to
+inaugurate the joyful Russian New Year, and everybody stood up,
+according to custom, and listened in silence, as loyal subjects
+should.  Well, at that table, accompanying his family, there was a
+young student, a fine fellow, very correct, and in uniform.  This
+unhappy young student, who had risen like everybody else, to listen
+to the Bodje tsara krani, inadvertently placed his knee on a chair.
+Truly that is not a correct attitude, monsieur, but really it was
+no reason for killing him, was it now?  Certainly not. Well, a brute
+in uniform, an officer quite immaculately gotten-up, drew a revolver
+from his pocket and discharged it at the student point-blank.  You
+can imagine the scandal, for the student was dead!  There were Paris
+journalists there, besides, who had never been there before, you see!
+Monsieur Gaston Leroux was at that very table.  What a scandal!
+They had a regular battle.  They broke carafes over the head of the
+assassin - for he was neither more nor less than an assassin, a
+drinker of blood - an Asiatic.  They picked up the assassin, who was
+bleeding all over, and carried him off to look after him.  As to the
+dead man, he lay stretched out there under a table-cloth, waiting
+for the police - and those at the tables went on with their drinking.
+Isn't that Asiatic enough for you?  Here, a naked woman; there, a
+corpse!   And the jewels - and the champagne!  What do you say to
+that?"
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+  *The Russian national anthem.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"His Excellency the Grand Marshal of the Court is waiting for you,
+Monsieur."
+
+Rouletabille shook hands with Athanase Georgevitch, who returned to
+his zakouskis, and followed the interpreter to the door of one of
+the private rooms.  The high dignitary was there.  With a charm in
+his politeness of which the high-born Russian possesses the secret
+over almost everybody else in the world, the Marshal intimated to
+Rouletabille that he had incurred imperial displeasure.
+
+"You have been denounced by Koupriane, who holds you responsible
+for the checks he has suffered in this affair."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane is right," replied Rouletabille, "and His
+Majesty should believe him, since it is the truth.  But don't fear
+anything from me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, for I shall not
+inconvenience Monsieur Koupriane any further, nor anybody else.  I
+shall disappear."
+
+"I believe Koupriane is already directed to vise your passport."
+
+"He is very good, and he does himself much harm."
+
+"All that is a little your fault, Monsieur Rouletabille.  We
+believed we could consider you as a friend, and you have never
+failed, it appears, on each occasion to give your help to our
+enemies.
+
+"Who says that?"
+
+"Koupriane.  Oh, it is necessary to be one with us.  And you are
+not one with us.  And if you are not for us you are against us.
+You understand that, I think.  That is the way it has to be.  The
+Terrorists have returned to the methods of the Nihilists, who
+succeeded altogether too well against Alexander II.  When I tell
+you that they succeeded in placing their messages even in the
+imperial palace..."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, vaguely, as though he were already
+far removed from the contingencies of this world.  "I know that
+Czar Alexander II sometimes found under his napkin a letter
+announcing his condemnation to death."
+
+"Monsieur, at the Chateau yesterday morning something happened that
+is perhaps more alarming than the letter found by Alexander II
+under his napkin."
+
+"What can it be?  Have bombs been discovered?"
+
+"No.  It is a bizarre occurrence and almost unbelievable.  The
+eider downs, all the eider down coverings belonging to the imperial
+family disappeared yesterday morning."*
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+  * Historically authentic.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Surely not!"
+
+"It is just as I say.  And it was impossible to learn what had
+become of them - until yesterday evening, when they were found again
+in their proper places in the chambers.  That is the new mystery!"
+
+"Certainly.  But how were they taken out?"
+
+"Shall we ever know?  All we found was two feathers, this morning,
+in the boudoir of the Empress, which leads us to think that the
+eider downs were taken out that way.  I am taking the two feathers
+to Koupriane."
+
+"Let me see them," asked the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille looked them over and handed them back.
+
+"And what do you think the whole affair means?"
+
+"We are inclined to regard it as a threat by the revolutionaries.
+If they can carry away the eider downs, it would be quite as easy
+for them to carry away..."
+
+"The Imperial family?  No, I don't think it is that."
+
+"What do you mean, then?"
+
+"I?  Nothing any more.  Not only do I not think any more, but I
+don't wish to.  Tell me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, it is useless,
+I suppose, to try to see His Majesty before I go?"
+
+"What good would it do, monsieur?  We know everything now.  This
+Natacha that you defended against Koupriane is proved the culprit.
+The last affair does not leave that in any reasonable doubt.  And
+she is taken care of from this time on.  His Majesty wishes never
+to hear Natacba spoken of again under any pretext."
+
+"And what are you going to do with that young girl?"
+
+"The Tsar has decided that there shall not be any trial and that
+the daughter of General Trebassof shall be sent, by administrative
+order, to Siberia.  The Tsar, monsieur, is very good, for he might
+have had her hanged.  She deserved it."
+
+"Yes, yes, the Tsar is very good."
+
+"You are very absorbed, Monsieur Rouletabille, and you are not
+eating."
+
+"I have no appetite, Monsieur le Marechal.  Tell me,- the Emperor
+must be rather bored at Tsarskoie-Coelo?"
+
+"Oh, he has plenty of work.  He rises at seven o'clock and has a
+light English luncheon - tea and toast.  At eight o'clock he starts
+and works till ten.  From ten to eleven he promenades."
+
+"In the jail-yard?" asked Rouletabille innocently.
+
+"What's that you say?  "Ah, you are an enfant terrible!  Certainly
+we do well to send you away.  Until eleven he promenades in a
+pathway of the park.  From eleven to one he holds audience; luncheon
+at one; then he spends the time until half-past two with his family."
+
+"What does he eat?"
+
+"Soup.  His Majesty is wonderfully fond of soup.  He takes it at
+every meal.  After luncheon he smokes, but never a cigar - always
+cigarettes, gifts of the Sultan; and he only drinks one liqueur,
+Maraschino.  At half-past two he goes out again for a little air
+- always in his park; then he sets himself to work until eight
+o'clock.  It is simply frightful work, with heaps of useless
+papers and numberless signatures.  No secretary can spare him that
+ungrateful bureaucratic duty.  He must sign, sign, sign, and read,
+read, read the reports.  And it is work without any beginning or
+end; as soon as some reports go, others arrive.  At eight o'clock,
+dinner, and then more signatures, working right up to eleven o'clock.
+At eleven o'clock he goes to bed."
+
+"And he sleeps to the rhythmical tramp of the guards on patrol,"
+added Rouletabille, bluntly.
+
+"0 young man, young man!"
+
+"Pardon me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal," said the reporter, rising;
+"I am, indeed, a disturbing spirit and I know that I have nothing
+more to do in this country.  You will not see me any more, Monsieur
+le Grand Marechal; but before leaving I ought to tell you how much
+I have been touched by the hospitality of your great nation.  That
+hospitality is sometimes a little dangerous, but it is always
+magnificent.  No other nation in the world knows like the Russians
+how to receive a man, Your Excellency.  I speak as I feel; and that
+isn't affected by my manner of quitting you, for you know also how
+to put a man to the door.  Adieu, then; without any rancor.  My
+most respectful homage to His Majesty.  Ah, just one word more!
+You will recall that Natacha Feodorovna was engaged to poor Boris
+Mourazoff, still another young man who has disappeared and who,
+before disappearing, charged me to deliver to General Trebassof's
+daughter this last token - these two little ikons.  I entrust you
+with this mission, Monsieur le Grand Marechal.  Your servant,
+Excellency."
+
+Rouletabille re-descended the great Kaniouche.  "Now," said he to
+himself, "it is my turn to buy farewell presents."  And he made his
+way slowly across la Place des Grandes-Ecuries and the bridge of
+the Katharine canal.  He entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok and pushed
+open Pere Alexis's door, under the arch, at the back of the obscure
+court.
+
+"Health and prosperity, Alexis Hutch!"
+
+"Ah, you again, little man!  Well?  Koupriane has let you know the
+result of my analyses?"
+
+"Yes, yes.  Tell me, Alexis Hutch, you are sure you are not
+mistaken?  You don't think you might be mistaken?  Think carefully
+before you answer.  It is a question of life or death."
+
+"For whom?"
+
+"For me."
+
+"For you, good little friend!  You want to make your old Pere 
+lexis laugh - or weep!"
+
+"Answer me."
+
+"No, I couldn't be mistaken.  The thing is as certain as that we
+two are here - arsenate of soda in the stains on the two napkins
+and traces of arsenate of soda in two of the four glasses; none
+in the carafe, none in the little bottle, none in the two glasses.
+I say it before you and before God."
+
+"So it is really true.  Thank you, Alexis Hutch.  Koupriane has not
+tried to deceive me.  There has been nothing of that sort.  Well,
+do you know, Alexis Hutch, who has poured the poison?  It is she
+or I.  And as it is not I, it is she.  And since it is she, well,
+I am going to die!"
+
+"You love her, then?" inquired Pere Alexis.
+
+"No," replied Rouletahille, with a self-mocking smile.  "No, I don't
+love her.  But if it is she who poured the poison, then it was not
+Michael Nikolaievitch, and it is I who had Michael Nikolaievitch
+killed.  You can see now that therefore I must die.  Show me your
+finest images.
+
+"Ah, my little one, if you will permit your old Alexis to make you
+a gift, I would offer you these two poor ikons that are certainly
+from the convent of Troitza at its best period.  See how beautiful
+they are, and old.  Have you ever seen so beautiful a Mother of
+God?  And this St. Luke, would you believe that the hand had been
+mended, eh?   Two little masterpieces, little friend!  If the old
+masters of Salonika returned to the world they would be satisfied
+with their pupils at Troitza.  But you mustn't kill yourself at
+your age!"
+
+"Come, bat ouclzka (little father), I accept your gift, and, if I
+meet the old Salonican masters on the road I am going to travel,
+I shan't fail to tell them there is no person here below who
+appreciates them like a certain pere of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok,
+Alexis Hutch."
+
+So saying Rouletabille wrapped up the two little ikons and put them
+in his pocket.  The Saint Luke would be sure to appeal to his
+friend Sainclair.  As to the Mother of God, that would be his dying
+gift to the Dame en noir.
+
+"Ah, you are sad, little son; and your voice, as it sounds now,
+hurts me."
+
+Rouletabille turned his head at the sound of two moujiks who entered,
+carrying a long basket.
+
+"What do you want?" demanded Pere Alexis in Russian, "and what is
+that you are bringing in?  Do you intend to fill that huge basket
+with my goods?  In that case you are very welcome and I am your
+humble servant."
+
+But the two chuckled.
+
+"Yes, yes, we have come to rid your shop of a wretched piece of
+goods that litters it."
+
+"What is this you say?" inquired the old man, anxiously, and
+drawing near Rouletabille.  "Little friend, watch these men; I
+don't recognize their faces and I can't understand why they have
+come here."
+
+Rouletabille looked at the new-comers, who drew near the counter,
+after depositing their long basket close to the door.  There was
+a sarcastic and malicious mocking way about them that struck him
+from the first.  But while they kept up their jabbering with Pere
+Alexis he filled his pipe and proceeded to light it.  Just then the
+door was pushed open again and three men entered, simply dressed,
+like respectable small merchants.  They also acted curiously and
+looked all around the shop.  Pere Alexis grew more and more alarmed
+and the others pulled rudely at his beard.
+
+"I believe these men here have come to rob me," he cried in French.
+"What do you say, my son?  -  Shall I call the police?"
+
+"Hold on," replied Rouletabille impassively.  "They are all armed;
+they have revolvers in their pockets."
+
+Pere Alexis's teeth commenced to chatter.  As he tried to get near
+the door he was roughly pushed back and a final personage entered,
+apparently a gentleman, and dressed as such, save that he wore a
+visored leather cap.
+
+"Ah," said he at once in French, "why, it is the young French
+journalist of the Grand-Morskaia Hotel.  Salutations and your good
+health!  I see with pleasure that you also appreciate the counsels
+of our dear Pere Alexis."
+
+"Don't listen to him, little friend; I don't know him," cried
+Alexis Hutch.
+
+But the gentlenman of the Neva went on:
+
+"He is a man close to the first principles of science, and therefore
+not far from divine; he is a holy man, whom it is good to consult at
+moments when the future appears difficult.  He knows how to read as
+no one else can - Father John of Cronstadt excepted, to be strictly
+accurate - on the sheets of bull-hide where the dark angels have
+traced mysterious signs of destiny."
+
+Here the gentleman picked up an old pair of boots, which he threw
+on the counter in the midst of the ikons.
+
+"Pere Alexis, perhaps these are not bull-hide, but good enough
+cow-hide.  Don't you want to read on this cow-hide the future of
+this young man?"
+
+But here Rouletabille advanced to the gentleman, and blew an
+enormous cloud of smoke full in his face.
+
+"It is useless, monsieur, said Rouletabille, "to waste your time
+and your breath.   I have been waiting for you."
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+
+Only, Rouletabille refused to be put into the basket.  He would not
+let them disarm him until they promised to call a carriage.  The
+Vehicle rolled into the court, and while Pere Alexis was kept back
+in his shop at the point of a revolver, Rouletabille quietly got
+in, smoking his pipe.  The man who appeared to be the chief of the
+band (the gentleman of the Neva) got in too and sat down beside him.
+The carriage windows were shuttered, preventing all communication
+with the outside, and only a tiny lantern lighted the interior.
+They started.  The carriage was driven by two men in brown coats
+trimmed with false astrakhan.  The dvornicks saluted, believing it
+a police affair.  The concierge made the sign of the cross.
+
+The journey lasted several hours without other incidents than those
+brought about by the tremendous jolts, which threw the two
+passengers inside one on top of the other.  This might have made
+an opening for conversation; and the "gentleman of the Neva" tried
+it; but in vain.  Rouletabille would not respond.  At one moment,
+indeed, the gentleman, who was growing bored, became so pressing
+that the reporter finally said in the curt tone he always used when
+he was irritated:
+
+"I pray you, monsieur, let me smoke my pipe in peace."
+
+Upon which the gentleman prudently occupied himself in lowering one
+of the windows, for it grew stifling.
+
+Finally, after much jolting, there was a stop while the horses were
+changed and the gentleman asked Rouletabille to let himself be
+blindfolded.  "The moment has come; they are going to hang me
+without any form of trial," thought the reporter, and when, blinded
+with the bandage, he felt himself lifted under the arms, there was
+revolt of his whole being, that being which, now that it was on the
+point of dying, did not wish to cease.  Rouletabille would have
+believed himself stronger, more courageous, more stoical at least.
+But blind instinct swept all of this away, that instinct of
+conservation which had no concern with the minor bravadoes of the
+reporter, no concern with the fine heroic manner, of the determined
+pose to die finely, because the instinct of conservation, which is,
+as its rigid name indicates, essentially materialistic, demands
+only, thinks of nothing but, to live.  And it was that instinct
+which made Rouletabille's last pipe die out unpuffed.
+
+The young man was furious with himself, and he grew pale with the
+fear that he might not succeed in mastering this emotion, he took
+fierce hold of himself and his members, which had stiffened at
+the contact of seizure by rough hands, relaxed, and he allowed
+himself to be led.  Truly, he was disgusted with his faintness and
+weakness.  He had seen men die who knew they were going to die.
+His task as reporter had led him more than once to the foot of the
+guillotine.  And the wretches he had seen there had died bravely.
+Extraordinarily enough, the most criminal had ordinarily met death
+most bravely.  Of course, they had had leisure to prepare themselves,
+thinking a long time in advance of that supreme moment.  But they
+affronted death, came to it almost negligently, found strength even
+to say banal or taunting things to those around them.  He recalled
+above all a boy of eighteen years old who had cowardly murdered an
+old woman and two children in a back-country farm, and had walked
+to his death without a tremor, talking reassuringly to the priest
+and the police official, who walked almost sick with horror on
+either side of him.  Could he, then, not be as brave as that child?
+
+They made him mount some steps and he felt that he had entered the
+stuffy atmosphere of a closed room.  Then someone removed the
+bandage.  He was in a room of sinister aspect and in the midst of
+a rather large company.
+
+Within these naked, neglected walls there were about thirty young
+men, some of them apparently quite as young as Rouletabille, with
+candid blue eyes and pale complexions.  The others, older men, were
+of the physical type of Christs, not the animated Christs of
+Occidental painters, but those that are seen on the panels of the
+Byzantine school or fastened on the ikons, sculptures of silver or
+gold.  Their long hair, deeply parted in the middle, fell upon
+their shoulders in curl-tipped golden masses.  Some leant against
+the wall, erect, and motionless.  Others were seated on the floor,
+their legs crossed.  Most of them were in winter coats, bought in
+the bazaars.  But there were also men from the country, with their
+skins of beasts, their sayons, their touloupes. One of them had his
+legs laced about with cords and was shod with twined willow twigs.
+The contrast afforded by various ones of these grave and attentive
+figures showed that representatives from the entire revolutionary
+party were present.  At the back of the room, behind a table, three
+young men were seated, and the oldest of them was not more than
+twenty-five and had the benign beauty of Jesus on feast-days,
+canopied by consecrated palms.
+
+In the center of the room a small table stood, quite bare and
+without any apparent purpose.
+
+On the right was another table with paper, pens and ink-stands.  It
+was there that Rouletabille was conducted and asked to be seated.
+Then he saw that another man was at his side, who was required to
+keep standing.  His face was pale and desperate, very drawn.  His
+eyes burned somberly, in spite of the panic that deformed his
+features Rouletabille recognized one of the unintroduced friends
+whom Gounsovski had brought with him to the supper at Krestowsky.
+Evidently since then the always-threatening misfortune had fallen
+upon him.  They were proceeding with his trial.  The one who seemed
+to preside over these strange sessions pronounced a name:
+
+"Annouchka!"
+
+A door opened, and Annouchka appeared.
+
+Rouletabille hardly recognized her, she was so strangely dressed,
+like the Russian poor, with her under-jacket of red-flannel and
+the handkerchief which, knotted under her chin, covered all her
+beautiful hair.
+
+She immediately testified in Russian against the man, who protested
+until they compelled him to be silent.  She drew from her pocket
+papers which were read aloud, and which appeared to crush the
+accused.  He fell back onto his seat.  He shivered.  He hid his
+head in his hands, and Rouletabille saw the hands tremble.  The
+man kept that position while the other witnesses were heard, their
+testimony arousing murmurs of indignation that were quickly checked.
+Annouchka had gone to take her place with the others against the
+wall, in the shadows which more and more invaded the room, at this
+ending of a lugubrious day.  Two windows reaching to the floor let
+a wan light creep with difficulty through their dirty panes, making
+a vague twilight in the room.  Soon nothing could be seen of the
+motionless figures against the wall, much as the faces fade in the
+frescoes from which the centuries have effaced the colors in the
+depths of orthodox convents.
+
+Now someone from the depths of the shadow and the appalling silence
+read something; the verdict, doubtless.
+
+The voice ceased.
+
+Then some of the figures detached themselves from the wall and
+advanced.
+
+The man who crouched near Rouletabille rose in a savage bound and
+cried out rapidly, wild words, supplicating words, menacing words.
+
+And then - nothing more but strangling gasps.  The figures that had
+moved out from the wall had clutched his throat.
+
+The reporter said, "It is cowardly."
+
+Annouchka's voice, low, from the depths of shadow, replied, "It is
+just."
+
+But Rouletabille was satisfied with having said that, for he had
+proved to himself that he could still speak.  His emotion had been
+such, since they had pushed him into the center of this sinister
+and expeditious revolutionary assembly of justice, that he thought
+of nothing but the terror of not being able to speak to them, to
+say something to them, no matter what, which would prove to them
+that he had no fear.  Well, that was over.  He had not failed to
+say, "That is cowardly."
+
+And he crossed his arms.  But he soon bad to turn away his head in
+order not to see the use the table was put to that stood in the
+center of the room, where it had seemed to serve no purpose.
+
+They had lifted the man, still struggling, up onto the little table.
+They placed a rope about his neck.  Then one of the "judges," one
+of the blond young men, who seemed no older than Rouletabille,
+climbed on the table and slipped the other end of the rope through
+a great ring-bolt that projected from a beam of the ceiling.  During
+this time the man struggled futilely, and his death-rattle rose at
+last though the continued noise of his resistance and its overcoming.
+But his last breath came with so violent a shake of the body that
+the whole death-apparatus, rope and ring-bolt, separated from the
+ceiling, and rolled to the ground with the dead man.
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry of horror.  "You are assassins!" he
+cried.  But was the man surely dead?  It was this that the pale
+figures with the yellow hair set themselves to make sure of.  He
+was.  Then they brought two sacks and the dead man was slipped
+into one of them.
+
+Rouletabille said to them:
+
+"You are braver when you kill by an explosion, you know."
+
+He regretted bitterly that he had not died the night before in the
+explosion.  He did not feel very brave.  He talked to them bravely
+enough, but he trembled as his time approached.  That death
+horrified him.  He tried to keep from looking at the other sack.  He
+took the two ikons, of Saint Luke and of the Virgin, from his pocket
+and prayed to them.  He thought of the Lady in Black and wept.
+
+A voice in the shadows said:
+
+"He is crying, the poor little fellow." 
+
+It was Annouclika's voice.
+
+Rouletabille dried his tears and said:
+
+"Messieurs, one of you must have a mother."
+
+But all the voices cried:
+
+"No, no, we have mothers no more!"
+
+"They have killed them," cried some.  "They have sent them to
+Siberia," cried others.
+
+"Well, I have a mother still," said the poor lad.  "I will not have
+the opportunity to embrace her.  It is a mother that I lost the day
+of my birth and that I have found again, but - I suppose it is to
+be said - on the day of my death.  I shall not see her again.  I
+have a friend; I shall not see him again either.  I have two little
+ikons here for them, and I am going to write a letter to each of
+them, if you will permit it.  Swear to me that you will see these
+reach them."
+
+"I swear it," said, in French, the voice of Annouchka.
+
+"Thanks, madame, you are kind.  And now, messieurs, that is all I
+ask of you.  I know I am here to reply to very grave accusations.
+Permit me to say to you at once that I admit them all to he well
+founded.  Consequently, there need be no discussion between us.
+I have deserved death and I accept it.  So permit me not to concern
+myself with what will be going on here.  I ask of you simply, as a
+last favor, not to hasten your preparations too much, so that I may
+be able to finish my letters>"
+
+Upon which, satisfied with himself this time, he sat down again
+and commenced to write rapidly.  They left him in peace, as he
+desired.  He did not raise his head once, even at the moment when
+a murmur louder than usual showed that the hearers regarded
+Rouletabille's crimes with especial detestation.  He had the
+happiness of having entirely completed his correspond once when
+they asked him to rise to hear judgment pronounced upon him.  The
+supreme communion that he had just had with his friend Sainclair
+and with the dear Lady in Black restored all his spirit to him.  He
+listened respectfully to the sentence which condcmned him to death,
+though he was busy sliding his tongue along the gummed edge of his
+envelope.
+
+These were the counts on which he was to be hanged:
+
+1.  Because he had come to Russia and mixed in affairs that did not
+    concern his nationality, and had done this in spite of warning
+    to remain in France.
+
+2.  Because he had not kept the promises of neutrality he freely
+    made to a representative of the Central Revolutionary Committee.
+
+3.  For trying to penetrate the mystery of the Trebassof datcha.
+
+4.  For having Comrade Matiew whipped and imprisoned by Koupriane.
+
+5.  For having denounced to Koupriane the identity of the two
+    "doctors" who had been assigned to kill General Trebassof.
+
+6.  For having caused the arrest of Natacha Feodorovna.
+
+It was a list longer than was needed for his doom.  Rouletabille
+kissed his ikons and handed them to Annouchka along with the letters.
+Then he declared, with his lips trembling slightly, and a cold sweat
+on his forehead, that he was ready to submit to his fate.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE LAST CRAVAT
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him: "If you have nothing further
+to say, we will go into the courtyard."
+
+Rouletabille understood at last that hanging him in the room where
+judgment had been pronounced was rendered impossible by the violence
+of the prisoner just executed.  Not only the rope and the ring-bolt
+had been torn away, but part of the beam had splintered.
+
+"There is nothing more," replied Rouletabille.
+
+He was mistaken.  Something occurred to him, an idea flashed so
+suddenly that he became white as his shirt, and had to lean on the
+arm of the gentleman of the Neva in order to accompany him.
+
+The door was open.  All the men who had voted his death filed out
+in gloomy silence.  The gentleman of the Neva, who seemed charged
+with the last offices for the prisoner, pushed him gently out into
+the court.
+
+It was vast, and surrounded by a high board wall; some small
+buildings, with closed doors, stood to right and left.  A high
+chimney, partially demolished, rose from one corner.  Rouletabille
+decided the whole place was part of some old abandoned mill.  Above
+his head the sky was pale as a winding sheet.  A thunderous,
+intermittent, rhythmical noise appraised him that he could not be
+far from the sea.
+
+He had plenty of time to note all these things, for they had stopped
+the march to execution a moment and had made him sit down in the
+open courtyard on an old box.  A few steps away from him under the
+shed where he certainly was going to be hanged, a man got upon a
+stool (the stool that would serve Rouletabille a few moments later)
+with his arm raised, and drove with a few blows of a mallet a great
+ring-bolt into a beam above his head.
+
+The reporter's eyes, which had not lost their habit of taking
+everything in, rested again on a coarse canvas sack that lay on the
+ground.  The young man felt a slight tremor, for he saw quickly
+that the sack swathed a human form.  He turned his head away, but
+only to confront another empty sack that was intended for him.
+Then he closed his eyes.  The sound of music came from somewhere
+outside, notes of the balalaika.  He said to himself, "Well, we
+certainly are in Finland"; for he knew that, if the guzla is
+Russian the balalaika certainly is Finnish.  It is a kind of
+accordeon that the peasants pick plaintively in the doorways of
+their toubas.  He had seen and heard them the afternoon that he
+went to Pergalovo, and also a little further away, on the Viborg
+line.  He pictured to himself the ruined structure where he now
+found himself shut in with the revolutionary tribunal, as it must
+appear from the outside to passers-by; unsinister, like many others
+near it, sheltering under its decaying roof a few homes of humble
+workers, resting now as they played the balalaika at their
+thresholds, with the day's labor over.
+
+And suddenly from the ineffable peace of his last evening, while
+the balalaika mourned and the man overhead tested the solidity of
+his ring-bolt, a voice outside, the grave, deep voice of Annouchka,
+sang for the little Frenchman:
+
+    "For whom weave we now the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+     When my hand falls lingering down
+     Who then will bring your crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+
+     O that someone among you would hear,
+     And come, and my lonely hand
+     Would press, and shed the friendly tear -
+     For alone at the end I stand.
+
+     Who now will bring the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?"
+
+Rouletabille listened to the voice dying away with the last sob of
+the balalaika.  "It is too sad," he said, rising.  "Let us go,"
+and he wavered a little.
+
+They came to search him.  All was ready above.  They pushed him
+gently towards the shed.  When he was under the ring-bolt, near
+the stool, they made him turn round and they read him something
+in Russian, doubtless less for him than for those there who did
+not understand French.  Rouletabille had hard work to hold himself
+erect.
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him further:
+
+"Monsieur, we now read you the final formula.  It asks you to say
+whether, before you die, you have anything you wish to add to what
+we know concerning the sentence which has been passed upon you."
+
+Rouletabille thought that his saliva, which at that moment he had
+the greatest difficulty in swallowing, would not permit him to utter
+a word.  But disdain of such a weakness, when he recalled the
+coolness of so many illustrious condemned people in their last
+moments, brought him the last strength needed to maintain his
+reputation.
+
+"Why," said he, "this sentence is not wrongly drawn up.  I blame
+it only for being too short.  Why has there been no mention of the
+crime I committed in contriving the tragic death of poor Michael
+Korsakoff?"
+
+"Michael Korsakoff was a wretch," pronounced the vindictive voice
+of the young man who had presided at the trial and who, at this
+upreme moment, happened to be face to face with Rouletabille.
+"Koupriane's police, by killing that man, ridded us of a traitor."
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry, a cry of joy, and while lie had some
+reason for believing that at the point he had reached now of his
+too-short career only misfortune could befall him, yet here
+Providence, in his infinite grace, sent him before he died this
+ineffable consolation: the certainty that he had not been mistaken.
+
+"Pardon, pardon," he murmured, in an excess of joy which stifled
+him almost as much as the wretched rope would shortly do that they
+were getting ready behind him.  "Pardon.  One second yet, one little
+second.  Then, messieurs, then, we are agreed in that, are we?
+This Michael, Michael Nikolaievitch was the the last of traitors."
+
+"The first," said the heavy voice.
+
+"It is the same thing, my dear monsieur.  A traitor, a wretched
+traitor," continued Rouletabille.
+
+"A poisoner," replied the voice.
+
+"A vulgar poisoner!   Is that not so?  But, tell me how - a vulgar
+poisoner who, under cover of Nihilism, worked for his own petty
+ends, worked for himself and betrayed you all!"
+
+Now Rouletabille's voice rose like a fanfare.  Someone said:
+
+"He did not deceive us long; our enemies themselves undertook his
+punishment."
+
+"It was I," cried Rouletabille, radiant again.  "It was I who wound
+up that career.  I tell you that was managed right.  It was I who
+rid you of him.  Ah, I knew well enough, messieurs, in the bottom
+of my heart I knew that I could not be mistaken.  Two and two make
+four always, don't they?  And Rouletabille is always Rouletabille.
+Messieurs, it is all right, after all."
+
+But it was probable that it was also all wrong, for the gentleman
+of the Neva came up to him hat in hand and said:
+
+"Monsieur, you know now why the witnesses at your trial did not
+raise a fact against you that, on the contrary, was entirely in
+your favor.  Now it only remains for us to execute the sentence
+which is entirely justified on other grounds."
+
+"Ah, but - wait a little.  What the devil!   Now that I am sure I
+have not been mistaken and that I have been myself, Rouletabille,
+all the time I cling to life a little - oh, very much!"
+
+A hostile murmur showed the condemned man that the patience of his
+judges was getting near its limit.
+
+"Monsieur," interposed the president, "we know that you do not
+belong to the orthodox religion; nevertheless, we will bring a
+priest if you wish it."
+
+"Yes, yes, that is it, go for the priest," cried Rouletabille.
+
+And he said to himself, "It is so much time gained."
+
+One of the revolutionaries started over to a little cabin that had
+been transformed into a chapel, while the rest of them looked at
+the reporter with a good deal less sympathy than they had been
+showing.  If his bravado had impressed them agreeably in the trial
+room, they were beginning to be rather disgusted by his cries, his
+protestations and all the maneuvers by which he so apparently was
+trying to hold off the hour of his death.
+
+But all at once Rouletabille jumped up onto the fatal stool.  They
+believed he had decided finally to make an end of the comedy and
+die with dignity; but he had mounted there only to give them a
+discourse.
+
+"Messieurs, understand me now.  If it is true that you are not
+suppressing me in order to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch., then why
+do you hang me?  Why do you inflict this odious punishment on me?
+Because you accuse me of causing Natacha Feodorovna's arrest?  Truly
+I have been awkward.  Of that, and that alone, I accuse myself."
+
+"It was you, with your revolver, who gave the signal to Koupriane's
+agents!   You have done the dirty work for the police."
+
+Rouletabille tried vainly to protest, to explain, to say that his
+revolver shot, on the contrary, had saved the revolutionaries.  But
+no one cared to listen and no one believed him.
+
+"Here is the priest, monsieur," said the gentleman of the Neva.
+
+"One second!   These are my last words, and I swear to you that
+after this I will pass the rope about my neck myself!   But listen
+to me!   Listen to me closely!  Natacha Feodorovna was the most
+precious recruit you had, was she not?"
+
+"A veritable treasure," declared the president, his voice more and
+more impatient.
+
+"It was a terrible blow, then," continued the reporter, "a terrible
+blow for you, this arrest?"
+
+"Terrible," some of them ejaculated.
+
+"Do not interrupt me!   Very well, then, I am going to say this to
+you: 'If I ward off this blow - if, after having been the
+unintentional cause of Natacha's arrest, I have the daughter of
+General Trebassof set at liberty, and that within twenty-four
+hours, - what do you say?  Would you still hang me?'"
+
+The president, he who had the Christ-like countenance, said:
+
+"Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna has fallen the victim of terrible
+machinations whose mystery we so far have not been able to penetrate.
+She is accused of trying to poison her father and her step-mother,
+and under such conditions that it seems impossible for human reason
+to demonstrate the contrary.  Natacha Feodorovna herself, crushed
+by the tragic occurrence, was not able to answer her accusers at
+all, and her silence has been taken for a confession of guilt.
+Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna will be started for Siberia to-morrow.
+We can do nothing for her.  Natacha Feodorovna is lost to us."
+
+Then, with a gesture to those who surrounded Rouletabille:
+
+"Do your duty, messieurs."
+
+"Pardon, pardon.  But if I do prove the innocence of Natacha?
+Just wait, messieurs.  There is only I who can prove that innocence!
+You lose Natacha by killing me!"
+
+"If you had been able to prove that innocence, monsicur, the thing
+would already be done.  You would not have waited."
+
+"Pardon, pardon.  It is only at this moment that I have become able
+to do it."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"It is because I was sick, you see - very seriously sick.  That
+affair of Michael Nikolaievitch and the poison that still continued
+after he was dead simply robbed me of all my powers.  Now that I
+am sure I have not been the means of killing an innocent man - I am
+Rouletabille again!  It is not possible that I shall not find the
+way, that I shall not see through this mystery."
+
+The terrible voice of the Christ-like figure said monotonously:
+
+"Do your duty, messieurs."
+
+"Pardon, pardon.  This is of great importance to you - and the
+proof is that you have not yet hanged me.  You were not so
+procrastinating with my predecessor, were you?  You have listened
+to me because you have hoped!  Very well, let me think, let me
+consider.  Oh, the devil!  I was there myself at the fatal luncheon,
+and I know better than anyone else all that happened there.  Five
+minutes!  I demand five minutes of you; it is not much.  Five
+little minutes!"
+
+These last words of the condemned man seemed to singularly influence
+the revolutionaries.  They looked at one another in silence.
+
+Then the president took out his watch and said:
+
+"Five minutes.  We grant them to you."
+
+"Put your watch here.  Here on this nail.  It is five minutes to
+seven, eh?  You will give me until the hour?"
+
+"Yes, until the hour.  The watch itself will strike when the hour
+has come."
+
+"Ah, it strikes!   Like the general's watch, then.  Very well, here
+we are."
+
+Then there was the curious spectacle of Rouletabille standing on
+the hangman's stool, the fatal rope hanging above his head, his
+legs crossed, his elbow on his knees in that eternal attitude which
+Art has always given to human thought, his fists under his jaws,
+his eyes fixed - all around him, all those young men intent on his
+silence, not moving a muscle, turned into statues themselves that
+they might not disturb the statue which thought and thought.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+
+The five minutes ticked away and the watch commenced to strike the
+hour's seven strokes.  Did it sound the death of Rouletabille?
+Perhaps not!  For at the first silver tinkle they saw Rouletabille
+shake himself, and raise his head, with his face alight and his
+eyes shining.  They saw him stand up, spread out his arms and cry:
+
+"I have found it!"
+
+Such joy shone in his countenance that there seemed to be an aureole
+around him, and none of those there doubted that he had the solution
+of the impossible problem.
+
+"I have found it!  I have found it!"
+
+They gathered around him.  He waved them away as in a waking dream.
+
+"Give me room.  I have found it, if my experiment works out.  One,
+two, three, four, five..."
+
+What was he doing?  He counted his steps now, in long paces, as in
+dueling preliminaries.  And the others, all of them, followed him
+in silence, puzzled, but without protest, as if they, too, were
+caught in the same strange day-dream.  Steadily counting his steps
+he crossed thus the court, which was vast.  "Forty, forty-one,
+forty-two," he cried excitedly.  "This is certainly strange, and
+very promising."
+
+The others, although they did not understand, reframed from
+questioning him, for they saw there was nothing to do but let him
+go ahead without interruption, just as care is taken not to wake
+a somnambulist abruptly.  They had no mistrust of his motives, for
+the idea was simply untenable that Rouletabille was fool enough to
+hope to save himself from them by an imbecile subterfuge.  No,
+they yielded to the impression his inspired countenance gave them,
+and several were so affected that they unconsciously repeated his
+gestures.  Thus Rouletabille reached the edge of the court where
+judgment had been pronounced against him.  There he had to mount
+a rickety flight of stairs, whose steps he counted.  He reached
+a corridor, but moving away from the side where the door was
+opening to the exterior he turned toward a staircase leading to the
+upper floor, and still counted the steps as be climbed them.  Some
+of the company followed him, others hurried ahead of him.  But he
+did not seem aware of either the one or the other, as he walked
+along living only in his thoughts.  He reached the landing-place,
+hesitated, pushed open a door, and found himself in a room furnished
+with a table, two chairs, a mattress and a huge cupboard.  He went
+to the cupboard, turned the key and opened it.  The cupboard was
+empty.  He closed it again and put the key in his pocket.  Then he
+went out onto the landing-place again.  There he asked for the key
+of the chamber-door he had just left.  They gave it to him and he
+locked that door and put that key also in his pocket.  Now he
+returned into the court.  He asked for a chair.  It was brought
+him.  Immediately he placed his head in his hands, thinking hard,
+took the chair and carried it over a little behind the shed.  The
+Nihilists watched everything he did and they did not smile, because
+men do not smile when death waits at the end of things, however
+foolish.
+
+Finally, Rouletabille spoke:
+
+"Messieurs," said he, his voice low and shaken, because he knew
+that now he touched the decisive minute, after which there could
+only be an irrevocable fate.  "Messieurs, in order to continue
+my experiment I am obliged to go through movements that might
+suggest to you the idea of an attempt at escape, or evasion.  I
+hope you don't regard me as fool enough to have any such thought."
+
+"Oh, monsieur," said the chief, "you are free to go through all
+the maneuvers you wish.  No one escapee us.  Outside we should
+have you within arm's reach quite as well as here.  And, besides,
+it is entirely impossible to escape from here."
+
+"Very well.  Then that is understood.  In such a case, I ask you
+now to remain just where you are and not to budge, whatever I do,
+if you don't wish to inconvenience me.  Only please send someone
+now up to the next floor, where I am going to go again, and let
+him watch what happens from there, but without interfering.  And
+don't speak a word to me during the experiment."
+
+Two of the revolutionaries went to the upper floor, and opened a
+window in order to keep track of what went on in the court.  All
+now showed their intense interest in the acts and gestures of
+Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter placed himself in the shed, between his death-stool
+and his hanging-rope.
+
+"Ready," said he; "I am going to begin"
+
+And suddenly he jumped like a wild man, crossed the court in a
+straight line like a flash, disappeared in the touba, bounded up
+the staircase, felt in his pocket and drew out the keys, opened
+the door of the chamber he had locked, closed it and locked it
+again, turned right-about-face, came down again in the same haste,
+reached the court, and this time swerved to the chair, went round
+it, still running, and returned at the same speed to the shed.  He
+no sooner reached there than he uttered a cry of triumph as he
+glanced at the watch banging from a post.  "I have won," he said,
+and threw himself with a happy thrill upon the fatal scaffold.
+They surrounded him, and he read the liveliest curiosity in all
+their faces.  Panting still from his mad rush, he asked for two
+words apart with the chief of the Secret committee.
+
+The man who had pronounced judgment and who had the bearing of
+Jesus advanced, and there was a brief exchange of words between
+the two young men.  The others drew back and waited at a distance,
+in impressive silence, the outcome of this mysterious colloquy,
+which certainly would settle Rouletabille's fate.
+
+"Messieurs," said the chief, "the young Frenchman is going to be
+allowed to leave.  We give him twenty-four hours to set Natacha
+Feodorovna free.  In twenty-four hours, if he has not succeeded,
+he will return here to give himself up."
+
+A happy murmur greeted these words.  The moment their chief spoke
+thus, they felt sure of Natacha's fate.
+
+The chief added:
+
+"As the liberation of Natacha Feodorovna will be followed, the
+young Frenchman says, by that of our companion Matiew, we decide
+that, if these two conditions are fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille
+is allowed to return in entire security to France, which he ought
+never to have left."
+
+Two or three only of the group said, "That lad is playing with us;
+it is not possible."
+
+But the chief declared:
+
+"Let the lad try.   He accomplishes miracles."
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE TSAR
+
+"I have escaped by remarkable luck," cried Rouletabille, as he
+found himself, in the middle of the night, at the corner of the
+Katharine and the Aptiekarski Pereoulok Canals, while the mysterious
+carriage which had brought him there returned rapidly toward the
+Grande Ecurie.   "What a country!   What a country!"
+
+He ran a little way to the Grand Morskaia, which was near, entered
+the hotel like a bomb, dragged the interpreter from his bed,
+demanded that his bill be made out and that he be told the time of
+the next train for Tsarskoie-Coelo.  The interpreter told him that
+he could not have his bill at such an hour, that he could not leave
+town without his passport and that there was no train for
+Tsarskoie-Coelo, and Rouletabille made an outcry that woke the
+whole hotel.  The guests, fearing always "une scandale," kept close
+to their rooms.  But Monsieur le directeur came down, trembling.
+When he found all that it was about he was inclined to be peremptory,
+but Rouletabille, who had seen "Michael Strogoff" played, cried,
+"Service of the Tsar!" which turned him submissive as a sheep.  He
+made out the young man's bill and gave him his passport, which had
+been brought back by the police during the afternoon.  Rouletabille
+rapidly wrote a message to Koupriane's address, which the messenger
+was directed to have delivered without a moment's delay, under the
+pain of death!  The manager humbly promised and the reporter did
+not explain that by "pain of death" he referred to his own.  Then,
+having ascertained that as a matter of fact the last train had left
+for Tsarskoie-Coelo, he ordered a carriage and hurried to his room
+to pack.
+
+And he, ordinarily so detailed, so particular in his affairs, threw
+things every which way, linen, garments, with kicks and shoves.  It
+was a relief after the emotions he had gone through.  "What a
+country!" he never ceased to ejaculate.  "What a country!"
+
+Then the carriage was ready, with two little Finnish horses, whose
+gait he knew well, an evil-looking driver, who none the less would
+get him there; the trunk; roubles to the domestics.  "Spacibo,
+barine. Spacibo."  (Thank you, monsieur.  Thank you.)
+
+The interpreter asked what address he should give the driver.
+
+"The home of the Tsar."
+
+The interpreter hesitated, believing it to be an unbecoming
+pleasantry, then waved vaguely to the driver, and the horses started.
+
+"What a curious trot!  We have no idea of that in France," thought
+Rouletabille.  "France!  France!  Paris!  Is it possible that soon
+I shall be back!  And that dear Lady in Black!  Ah, at the first
+opportunity I must send her a dispatch of my return - before she
+receives those ikons, and the letters announcing my death.  Scan!
+Scari!  Scan!  (Hurry!)"
+
+The isvotchick pounded his horses, crowding past the dvornicks who
+watched at the corners of the houses during the St. Petersburg night.
+"Dirigi!  dirigi! dirigi!  (Look out!)"
+
+The country, somber in the somber night.  The vast open country.
+What monotonous desolation!  Rapidly, through the vast silent spaces,
+the little car glided over the lonely route into the black arms of
+the pines.
+
+Rouletabille, holding on to his seat, looked about him.
+
+"God!  this is as sad as a funeral display."
+
+Little frozen huts, no larger than tombs, occasionally indicated
+the road, but there was no mark of life in that country except the
+noise of the journey and the two beasts with steaming coats.
+
+Crack!  One of the shafts broken.  "What a country!"  To hear
+Rouletabille one would suppose that only in Russia could the shaft
+of a carriage break.
+
+The repair was difficult and crude, with bits of rope.  And from
+then on the journey was slow and cautious after the frenzied speed.
+In vain Rouletabille reasoned with himself.  "You will arrive
+anyway before morning.  You cannot wake the Emperor in the dead of
+night."  His impatience knew no reason.  "What a country!  What a
+country!"
+
+After some other petty adventures (they ran into a ravine and had
+tremendous difficulty rescuing the trunk) they arrived at
+Tsarskoie-Coelo at a quarter of seven.
+
+Even here the country was not pleasant.  Rouletabille recalled the
+bright awakening of French country.  Here it seemed there was
+something more dead than death: it was this little city with its
+streets where no one passed, not a soul, not a phantom, with its
+houses so impenetrable, the windows even of glazed glass and further
+blinded by the morning hoar-frost shutting out light more thoroughly
+than closed eyelids.  Behind them he pictured to himself a world
+unknown, a world which neither spoke nor wept, nor laughed, a world
+in which no living chord resounded.  "What a country!  'Where is
+the chateau?   I do not know; I have been here only once, in the
+marshal's carriage.  I do not know the way.  Not the great palace!
+The idiot of a driver has brought me to this great palace in order
+to see it, I haven't a doubt.  Does Rouletabille look like a tourist?
+Dourak!  The home of the Tsar, I tell you.  The Tsar's residence.
+The place where the Little Father lives.  Chez Batouchka!"
+
+The driver lashed his ponies.  He drove past all the streets.
+"Stoi!  (Stop!)" cried Rouletabille.  A gate, a soldier, musket at
+shoulder, bayonet in play; another gate, another soldier, another
+bayonet; a park with walls around it, and around the walls more
+soldiers.
+
+"No mistake; here is the place," thought Rouletabille.  There was
+only one prisoner for whom such pains would be taken.  He advanced
+towards the gate.  Ah!  They crossed bayonets under his nose.  Halt!
+No fooling, Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque.  "A subaltern came
+from a guard-house and advanced toward him.  Explanation evidently
+was going to be difficult.  The young man saw that if he demanded
+to see the Tsar, they would think him crazed and that would further
+complicate matters.  He asked for the Grand-Marshal of the Court.
+They replied that he could get the Marshal's address in Tsarskoie.
+But the subaltern turned his head.  He saw someone ad'vancing.  It
+was the Grand-Marshal himself.  Some exceptional service called him,
+without doubt, very early to the Court.
+
+"Why, what are you doing here?  You are not yet gone then, Monsieur
+Roidetabille?"
+
+"Politeness before everything, Monsieur le Grand-Marechal!  I would
+not go before saying 'Au revoir' to the Emperor.  Be so good, since
+you are going to him and he has risen (you yourself have told me he
+rises at seven), be so good as to say to him that I wish to pay my
+respects before leaving."
+
+"Your scheme, doubtless, is to speak to him once more regarding
+Natacha Feodorovna?"
+
+"Not at all.  Tell him, Excellency, that I am come to explain the
+mystery of the eider downs."
+
+"Ah, ah, the eider downs!  You know something?"
+
+"I know all."
+
+The Grand Marshal saw that the young man did not pretend.  He asked
+him to wait a few minutes, and vanished into the park.
+
+A quarter of an hour later, Joseph Rouletabille, of the journal
+"L'Epoque," was admitted into the cabinet that he knew well from
+the first interview he had had there with His Majesty.  The simple
+work-room of a country-house: a few pictures on the walls, portraits
+of the Tsarina and the imperial children on the table; Oriental
+cigarettes in the tiny gold cups.  Rouletabille was far from feeling
+any assurance, for the Grand-Marshal had said to him:
+
+"Be cautious.  The Emperor is in a terrible humor about you."
+
+A door opened and closed.  The Tsar made a sign to the Marshal, who
+disappeared.  Rouletabille bowed low, then watched the Emperor
+closely.
+
+Quite apparently His Majesty was displeased.  The face of the Tsar,
+ordinarily so calm, so pleasant, and smiling, was severe, and his
+eyes had an angry light.  He seated himself and lighted a cigarette.
+
+"Monsieur," he commenced, "I am not otherwise sorry to see you
+before your departure in order to say to you myself that I am not
+at all pleased with you.  If you were one of my subjects I would
+have already started you on the road to the Ural Mountains."
+
+"I remove myself farther, Sire."
+
+"Monsieur, I pray you not to interrupt me and not to speak unless
+I ask you a question."
+
+"Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon."
+
+"I am not duped by the pretext you have offered Monsieur le
+Grand-Marechal in order to penetrate here."
+
+"It is not a pretext, Sire."
+
+"Again!"
+
+"Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon."
+
+"I say to you that, called here to aid me against my enemies, they
+themselves have not found a stronger or more criminal support than
+in you."
+
+"Of what am I accused, Sire?"
+
+"Koupriane - "
+
+"Ah!  Ah!  ..  .  Pardon!"
+
+"My Chief of Police justly complains that you have traversed all
+his designs and that you have taken it upon yourself to ruin them.
+First, you removed his agents, who inconvenienced you, it seems;
+then, the moment that he had the proof in hand of the abominable
+alliance of Natacha Feodorovna with the Nihilists who attempt the
+assassination of her father your intervention has permitted that
+proof to escape him.  And you have boasted of the feat, monsieur,
+so that we can only consider you responsible for the attempts
+that followed.
+
+Without you, Natacha would not have attempted to poison her father.
+Without you, they would not have sent to find physicians who could
+blow up the datcha des Iles.  Finally, no later than yesterday,
+when this faithful servant of mine had set a trap they could not
+have escaped from, you have had the audacity, you, to warn them of
+it.  They owe their escape to you.  Monsieur, those are attempts
+against the security of the State which deserves the heaviest
+punishment.  Why, you went out one day from here promising me to
+save General Trebassof from all the plotting assassins who lurked
+about him.  And then you play the game of the assassins!  Your
+conduct is as miserable as that of Natacha Feodorovna is monstrous!"
+
+The Emperor ceased, and looked at Rouletabille, who had not lowered
+his eyes.
+
+"What can you say for yourself?  Speak - now."
+
+"I can only say to Your Majesty that I come to take leave of you
+because my task here is finished.  I have promised you the life of
+General Trebassof, and I bring it to you.  He runs no danger any
+more!  I say further to Your Majesty that there exists nowhere in
+the world a daughter more devoted to her father, even to the death,
+a daughter more sublime than Natacha Feodorovna, nor more innocent."
+
+"Be careful, monsieur.  I inform you that I have studied this affair
+personally and very closely.  You have the proofs of these
+statements you advance?"
+
+Yes, Sire."
+
+"And I, I have the proofs that Natacha Feodorovna is a renegade."
+
+At this contradiction, uttered in a firm voice, the Emperor stirred,
+a flush of anger and of outraged majesty in his face.  But, after
+this first movement, he succeeded in controlling himself, opened a
+drawer brusquely, took out some papers and threw them on the table.
+
+"Here they are."
+
+Rouletabille reached for the papers.
+
+"You do not read Russian, monsieur.  I will translate their purport
+for you.  Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of
+letters between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary
+Committee, and that these letters show the daughter of General
+Trebassof to be in perfect accord with the assassins of her father
+for the execution of their abominable project."
+
+"The death of the general?"
+
+"I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible."
+
+"Obstinate man!  I will read -"
+
+"Useless, Sire.  It is impossible.  There may be in them the
+question of a project, but I am greatly surprised if these
+conspirators have been sufficiently imprudent to write in those
+letters that they count on Natacha to poison her father."
+
+"That, as a matter of fact, is not written, and you yourself are
+responsible for it not being there.  It does not follow any the
+less that Natacha Feodorovna had an understanding with the Nihiists."
+
+"That is correct, Sire."
+
+"Ah, you confess that?"
+
+"I do not confess; I simply affirm that Natacha had an understanding
+with the Nihilists."
+
+"Who plotted their abominable attacks against the ex-Governor of
+Moscow."
+
+"Sire, since Natacha had an understanding with the Nihilists, it
+was not to kill her father, but to save him.  And the project of
+which you hold here the proofs, but of whose character you are
+unaware, is to end the attacks of which you speak, instantly."
+
+"You say that."
+
+"I speak the truth, Sire."
+
+"Where are the proofs?  Show me your papers."
+
+"I have none.  I have only my word."
+
+"That is not sufficient."
+
+"It will be sufficient, once you have heard me."
+
+"I listen."
+
+"Sire, before revealing to you a secret on which depends the life
+of General Trebassof, you must permit me some questions.  Your
+Majesty holds the life of the general very dear?"
+
+"What has that to do with it?"
+
+"Pardon.  I desire that Your Majesty assure me on that point."
+
+"The general has protected my throne.  He has saved the Empire from
+one of the greatest dangers that it has ever run.  If the servant
+who has done such a service should he rewarded by death, by the
+punishment that the enemies of my people prepare for him in the
+darkness, I should never forgive myself.  There have been too many
+martyrs already!"
+
+"You have replied to me, Sire, in such a way that you make me
+understand there is no sacrifice - even to the sacrifice of your
+a'mour-propre the greatest a ruler can suffer - no sacrifice too
+dear to ransom from death one of these martyrs."
+
+"Ah, ah!  These gentlemen lay down conditions to me!  Money.  Money.
+They need money.  And at how much do they rate the head of the
+general?"
+
+"Sire, that does not touch Your Majesty, and I never will come to
+offer you such a bargain.  That matter concerns only Natacha
+Feodorovna, who has offered her fortune!"
+
+"Her fortune!  But she has nothing."
+
+"She will have one at the death of the general.  Now she engages to
+give it all to the Revolutionary Committee the day the general dies
+- if he dies a natural death!"
+
+The Emperor rose, greatly agitated.
+
+"To the Revolutionary Party!  What do you tell me!  The fortune of
+the general!  Eh, but these are great riches."
+
+"Sire, I have told you the sercet.  You alone should know it and
+guard it forever, and I have your sacred word that, when the hour
+comes, you will let the prize go where it is promised.  If the
+general ever learns of such a thing, such a treaty, he would easily
+arrange that nothing should remain, and he would denounce his
+daughter who has saved him, and then he would promptly he the prey
+of his enemies and yours, from whom you wish to save him.  I have
+told the secret not to the Emperor, but to the representative of
+God on the Russian earth.  I have confessed it to the priest, who
+is bound to forget the words uttered only before God.  Allow Natacha
+Feodorovna her own way, Sire!  And her father, your servant, whose
+life is so dear to you, is saved.  At the natural death of the
+general his fortune will go to his daughter, who has disposed of
+it."
+
+Rouletabille stopped a moment to judge of the effect produced.  It
+was not good.  The face of his august listener was more and more
+in a frown.
+
+The silence continued, and now the reporter did not dare to break
+it.  He waited.
+
+Finally, the Emperor rose and walked forward and backward across
+the room, deep in thought.  For a moment he stopped at the window
+and waved paternally to the little Tsarevitch, who played in the
+park with the grand-duchesses.
+
+Then he returned to Rouletabille and pinched his ear.
+
+"But, tell me, how have you learned all this?  And who then has
+poisoned the general and his wife, in the kiosk, if not Natacha?"
+
+"Natacha is a saint.  It is nothing, Sire, that she has been raised
+in luxury, and vows' herself to misery;  but it is sublime that she
+guards in her heart the secret of her sacrifice from everyone, and,
+in spite of all, because secrecy is necessary and has been required
+of her.  See her guarding it before her father, who has been brought
+to believe in the dishonor of his daughter, and still to be silent
+when a word would have proved her innocent; guarding it face to face
+with her fiance, whom she loves, and repulses because marriage is
+forbidden to the girl who is supposed to be rich and who will be
+poor; guarding it, above all - and guarding it still - in the depths
+of the dungeon, and ready to take the road to Siberia under the
+accusation of assassination, because that ignominy is necessary for
+the safety of her father.  That, Sire - oh, Sire, do you see!"
+
+"But you, how have you been able to penetrate into this guarded
+secret?"
+
+"By watching her eyes.  By observing, when she believed herself
+alone, the look of terror and the gleams of love.  And, beyond all,
+by looking at her when she was looking at her father.  Ah, Sire,
+there were moments when on her mystic face one could read the wild
+joy and devotion of the martyr.  Then, by listening and by piecing
+together scraps of phrases inconsistent with the idea of treachery,
+but which immediately acquired meaning if one thought of the
+opposite, of sacrifice.  Ah, that is it, Sire!  Consider always the
+alternative motive.  What I finally could see myself, the others,
+who had a fixed opinion about Natacha, could not see.  And why had
+they their fixed opinion?  Simply because the idea of compromise
+with the Nihilists aroused at once the idea of complicity!  For
+such people it is always the same thing - they never can see but
+the one side of the situation.  But, nevertheless, the situation
+had two sides, as all situations have.  The question was simple.
+The compromise was certain.  But why had Natacha compromised
+herself with the Nihilists?  Was it necessarily in order to lose
+her father?  Might it not be, on the contrary, in order to save
+him?  When one has rendezvous with an enemy it is not necessarily
+to enter into his game, sometimes it is to disarm him with an
+offer.  Between these two hypotheses, which I alone took the
+trouble to examine, I did not hesitate long, because Natacha's
+every attitude proclaimed her innocence: and her eyes, Sire, in
+which one read purity and love, prevailed always with me against
+all the passing appearances of disgrace and crime.
+
+"I saw that Natacha negotiated with them.  But what had she to
+place in the scales against the life of her father?  Nothing
+- except the fortune that she would have one day.
+
+"Some words she spoke about the impossibility of immediate marriage,
+about poverty which could always knock at the door of any mansion,
+remarks that I was able to overhear between Natacha and Boris
+Mourazoff, which to him meant nothing, put me definitely on the
+right road.  And I was not long in ascertaining that the negotiations
+in this formidable affair were taking place in the very house of
+Trebassof!  Pursued without by the incessant spying of Koupriane,
+who sought to surprise her in company with the Nihilists, watched
+closely, too, by the jealous supervision of Boris, who was jealous
+of Michael Nikolaievitch, she had to seize the only opportunities
+possible for such negotiations, at night, in her own home, the sole
+place where, by the very audacity of it, she was able to play her
+part in any security.
+
+"Michael Nikolaievitch knew Annouchka.  There was certainly the
+point of departure for the negotiations which that felon-officer,
+traitor to all sides, worked at will toward the realization of his
+own infamous project.  I do not think that Michael ever confided to
+Natacha that he was, from the very first, the instrument of the
+revolutionaries.  Natacha, who sought to get in touch with the
+revolutionary party, had to entrust him with a correspondence for
+Annouchka, following which he assumed direction of the affair,
+deceiving the Nihilists, who, in their absolute penury, following
+the revolt, had been seduced by the proposition of General
+Trebassof's daughter, and deceiving Natacha, whom he pretended to
+love and by whom he believed himself loved.  At this point in the
+affair Natacha came to understand that it was necessary to propitiate
+Michael Nikolaievitch, her indispensable intermediary, and she
+managed to do it so well that Boris Mourazoff felt the blackest
+jealousy.  On his side, Michael came to believe that Natacha would
+have no other husband than himself, but he did not propose to marry
+a penniIess girl!  And, fatally, it followed that Natacha, in that
+infernal intrigue, negotiated for the life of her father through
+the agency of a man who, underhandedly, sought to strike at the
+general himself, because the immediate death of her father before
+the negotiation was completed would enrich Natacha, who had given
+Michael so much to hope.  That frightful tragedy, Sire, in which
+we have lived our most painful hours, appeared to me, confident of
+Natacha's innocence, as absolutely simple as for the others it
+seemed complicated.  Natacha believed she had in Michael
+Nikolaievitch a man who worked for her, but he worked only for
+himself.  The day that I was convinced of it, Sire, by my examination
+of the approach to the balcony, I had a mind to warn Natacha, to go
+to her and say, 'Get rid of that man.  He will betray you.  If you
+need an agent, I am at your service.'  But that day, at Krestowsky,
+destiny prevented my rejoining Natacha; and I must attribute it to
+destiny, which would not permit the loss of that man.  Michael
+Nikolaievitch, who was a traitor, was too much in the 'combination,'
+and if he had been rejected he would have ruined everything.  I
+caused him to disappear!  The great misfortune then was that
+Natacha, holding me responsible for the death of a man she believed
+innocent, never wished to see me again, and, when she did see me,
+refused to have any conversation with me because I proposed that I
+take Michael's place for her with the revolutionaries.  She would
+have nothing to do with me in order to protect her secret.  Meantime,
+the Nihilists believed they were betrayed by Natacha when they
+learned of the death of Michael, and they undertook to avenge him.
+They seized Natacha, and bore her off by force.  The unhappy girl
+learned then, that same evening, of the attack which destroyed the
+datcha and, happily, still spared her father.  This time she reached
+a definite understanding with the revolutionary party.  Her bargain
+was made.  I offer you for proof of it only her attitude when she
+was arrested, and, even in that moment, her sublime silence."
+
+While Rouletabille urged his view, the Emperor let him talk on and
+on, and now his eyes were dim.
+
+"Is it possible that Natacha has not been the accomplice, in all,
+of Michael Nikolaievitch?" he demanded.  "It was she who opened her
+father's house to him that night.  If she was not his accomplice
+she would have mistrusted him, she would have watched him."
+
+"Sire, Michael Nikolaievitch was a very clever man.  He knew so
+well how to play upon Natacha, and Annouchia, in whom she placed
+all her hope.  It was from Annouchka that she wished to hold the
+life of her father.  It was the word, the signature of Annouchka
+that she demanded before giving her own.  The evening Michael
+Nikolaievitch died, he was charged to bring her that signature.  I
+know it, myself, because, pretending drunkenness, I was able to
+overhear enough of a conversation between Annoucbika and a man whose
+name I must conceal.  Yes, that last evening, Michael Nikolaievitch,
+when he entered the datcha, had the signature in his pocket, but
+also he carried the weapon or the poison with which he already had
+attempted and was resolved to reach the father of her whom he
+believed was assuredly to be his wife."
+
+"You speak now of a paper, very precious, that I regret not to
+possess, monsieur," said the Tsar coldly, "because that paper alone
+would have proved to me the innocence of your protegee."
+
+"If you have not it, Sire, you know well that it is because I have
+wished you to have it.  The corpse had been searched by Katharina,
+the little Bohemian, and I, Sire, prevented Koupriane from finding
+that signature in Katharina's possession.  In saving the secret I
+have saved General Trebassof's life, who would have preferred to
+die rather than accept such an arrangement."
+
+The Tsar stopped Rouletabille in his enthusiastic outburst.
+
+"All that would be very beautiful and perhaps admirable," said he,
+more and more coldly, because he had entirely recovered himself,"
+if Natacha had not, herself, with her own hand, poisoned her father
+and her step-mother! - always with arsenate of soda."
+
+"Oh, some of that had been left in the house," replied Rouletabille.
+"They had not given me all of it for the analysis after the first
+attempt.  But Natacha is innocent of that, Sire.  I swear it to you.
+As true as that I have certainly escaped being hanged."
+
+"How, hanged?"
+
+"Oh, it has not amounted to much now, Your Majesty."
+
+And Rouletabille recounted his sinister adventure, up to the moment
+of his death, or, rather, up to the moment when he had believed he
+was going to die.
+
+The Emperor listened to the young reporter with complete
+stupefaction.  He murmured, "Poor lad!" then, suddenly:
+
+"But how have you managed to escape them?"
+
+"Sire they have given me twenty-four hours for you to set Natacha
+at liberty, that is to say, that you restore her to her rights, all
+her rights, and she be always the recognized heiress of Trebassof.
+Do you understand me, Sire?
+  
+"I will understand you, perhaps, when you have explained to me how
+Natacha has not poisoned her father and step-mother."
+
+"There are some things so simple, Sire, that one is able to think
+of them only with a rope around one's neck.  But let us reason it
+out.  We have here four persons, two of whom have been poisoned
+and the other two with them have not been.  Now, it is certain that,
+of the four persons, the general has not wished to poison himself,
+that his wife has not wished to poison the general, and that, as
+for me, I have not wished to poison anybody.  That, if we are
+absolutely sure of it, leaves as the poisoner only Natacha.  That
+is so certain, so inevitable, that there is only one case, one
+alone, where, in such conditions, Natacha would not be regarded as
+the poisoner."
+
+"I confess that, logically, I do not see," said the Tsar, "anything
+beyond that but more and more of a tangle.  What is it?"
+
+"Logically, the only case would be that where no one had been
+poisoned, that is to say, where no one had taken any poison."
+
+"But the presence of the poison has been established!" cried the
+Emperor.
+
+"Still, the presence of the poison proves only its presence, not
+the crime.  Both poison and ipecac were found in the stomach
+expulsions.  From which a crime has been concluded.  What state
+of affairs was necessary for there to have been no crime?  Simply
+that the poison should have appeared in the expulsions after the
+ipecac.  Then there would have been no poisoning, but everyone
+would believe there had been.  And, for that, someone would have
+poured the poison into the expulsions."
+
+The Tsar never quitted Rouletabille's eyes.
+
+"That is extraordinary," said he.  "But of course it is possible.
+In any case, it is still only an hypothesis.
+
+"And so long as it could be an hypothesis that no one thought of,
+it could be just that, Sire.  But if I am here, it is because I
+have the proof that that hypothesis corresponds to the reality.
+That necessary proof of Natacha's innocence, Your Majesty, I have
+found with the rope around my neck.  Ah, I tell you it was time!
+What has hindered us hitherto, I do not say to realize, but even
+to think, of that hypothesis?  Simply that we thought the illness
+of the general had commenced before the absorption of the ipecac,
+since Matrena Petrovna had been obliged to go for it to her
+medicine-closet after his illness commenced, in order to counteract
+the poison of which she also appeared to be the victim.
+
+"But, if I acquire proof that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac at
+hand before the sickness, my hypothesis of pretense at poisoning
+has irresistible force.  Because, if it was not to use it before,
+why did she have it with her before?  And if it was not that she
+wished to hide the fact that she had used it before, why did she
+wish to make believe that she went to find it afterwards?
+
+"Then, in order to show Natacha's innocence, here is what must be
+proved: that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac on her, even when she
+went to look for it."
+
+"Young Rouletabille, I hardly breathe," said the Tsar.
+
+"Breathe, Sire.  The proof is here.  Matrena Petrovna necessarily
+had the ipecac on her, because after the sickness she had not the
+time for going to find it.  Do you understand, Sire?  Between the
+moment when she fled from the kiosk and when she returned there,
+she had not the actual time to go to her medicine-closet to find
+the ipecac."
+
+"How have you been able to compute the time?" asked the Emperor.
+
+"Sire, the Lord God directed, Who made me admire Feodor
+Feodorovitch's watch just when we went to read, and to read on the
+dial of that watch two minutes to the hour, and the Lord God
+directed yet, Who, after the scene of the poison, at the time
+Matrena returned carrying the ipecac publicly, made the hour
+strike from that watch in the general's pocket.
+
+"Two minutes.  It was impossible for Matrena to have covered that
+distance in two minutes.  She could only have entered the deserted
+datcha and left it again instantly.  She had not taken the trouble
+to mount to the floor above, where, she told us and repeated when
+she returned, the ipecac was in the medicine-closet.  She lied!
+And if she lied, all is explained.
+
+"It was the striking of a watch, Sire, with a striking apparatus
+and a sound like the general's, there in the quarters of the
+revolutionaries, that roused my memory and indicated to me in a
+second this argument of the time.
+
+"I got down from my gallows-scaffold, Your Majesty, to experiment
+on that time-limit.  Oh, nothing and nobody could have prevented
+my making that experiment before I died, to prove to myself that
+Rouletabille had all along been right.  I had studied the grounds
+around the datcha enough to be perfectly exact about the distances.
+I found in the court where I was to be hanged the same number of
+steps that there were from the kiosk to the steps of the veranda,
+and, as the staircase of the revolutionaries had fewer steps, I
+lengthened my journey a few steps by walking around a chair.
+Finally, I attended to the opening and closing of the doors that
+Matrena would have had to do.  I had looked at a watch when I
+started.  When I returned, Sire, and looked at the watch again, I
+had taken three minutes to cover the distance - and it is not for
+me to boast, but I am a little livelier than the excellent Matrena.
+
+"Matrena had lied.  Matrena had simulated the poisoning of the
+general.  Matrena had coolly poured ipecac in the general's glass
+while we were illustrating with matches a curious-enough theory of
+the nature of the constitution of the empire."
+
+"But this is abominable!" cried the Emperor, this time definitely
+convinced by the intricate argument of Rouletabille.  "And what end
+could this imitation serve?'"
+
+"The end of preventing the real crime!  The end that she believed
+herself to have attained, Sire, to have Natacha removed forever
+- Natacha whom she believed capable of any crime."
+
+"Oh, it is monstrous!  Feodor Feodorovitch has often told me that
+Matrena loved Natacha sincerely."
+
+"She loved her sincerely up to the day that she believed her guilty.
+Matrena Petrovna was sure of Natacha's complicity in Michael
+Nikolaievitch's attempt to poison the general.  I shared her stupor,
+her despair, when Feodor Feodorovitch took his daughter in his arms
+after that tragic night, and embraced her.  He seemed to absolve
+her.  It was then that Matrena resolved within herself to save the
+general in spite of himself, but I remain persuaded that, if she
+had dared such a plan against Natacha, it would only be because of
+what she believed definite proof of her step-daughter's infamy.
+These papers, Sire, that you have shown me, and which show, if
+nothing more, an understanding between Natacha and the
+revolutionaries, could only have been in the possession of Michael
+or of Natacha.  Nothing was found in Michael's quarters.  Tell me,
+then, that Matrena found them in Natacha's apartment.  Then, she
+did not hesitate!"
+
+"If one outlined her crime to her, do you believe she would confess
+it?  asked the Emperor.
+
+"I am so sure of it that I have had her brought here.  By now
+Koupriane should be here at the chateau, with Matrena Petrovna."
+
+"You think of everything, monsieur."
+
+The Tsar moved to ring a bell.  Rouletabille raised his hand.
+
+"Not yet, Sire.  I ask that you permit me not to be present at the
+confusion of that brave, heroic, good woman who has loved me much.
+But before I go, Sire - do you promise me?"
+
+The Emperor believed he had not heard correctly or did not grasp
+the meaning.  He repeated what Rouletabille had said.  The young
+reporter repeated it once more:
+
+"Do you promise?  No, Sire, I am not mad.  I dare to ask you that.
+I have confided my honor to Your Majesty.  I have told you Natacha's
+secret.  Well, now, before Matrena's confession, I dare to ask you:
+Promise me to forget that secret.  It will not suffice merely to
+give Natacha back again to her father.  It is necessary to leave
+her course open to her - if you really wish to save General
+Trebassof.  What do you decide, Sire?"
+
+"It is the first time anyone has questioned me, monsieur."
+
+"Ah, well, it will be the last.  But I humbly beg Your Majesty to
+reply."
+
+"That would be many millions given to the Revolution."
+
+"Oh, Sire, they are not given yet.  The general is sixty-five, but
+he has many years ahead of him, if you wish it.  By the time he
+dies - a natural death, if you wish it - your enemies will have
+disarmed."
+
+"My enemies!" murmured the Tsar in a low voice.  "No, no; my enemies
+never will disarm.  Who, then, will be able to disarm them?" added he,
+melancholily, shaking his head.
+
+"Progress, Sire!  If you wish it."
+
+The Tsar turned red and looked at the audacious young man, who met
+the gaze of His Majesty frankly.
+
+"It is kind of you to say that, my young friend.  But you speak as
+a child."
+
+"As a child of France to the Father of the Russian people."
+
+It was said in a voice so solemn and, at the same time, so naively
+touching, that the Tsar started.  He gazed again for some time in
+silence at this boy who, this time, turned away his brimming eyes.
+
+"Progress and pity, Sire."
+
+"Well," said the Emperor, "it is promised."
+
+Rouletabille was not able to restrain a joyous movement hardly in
+keeping.
+
+"You can ring now, Sire."
+
+And the Tsar rang.
+
+The reporter passed into a little salon, where he found the Marshal,
+Koupriane and Matrena Petrovna, who was "in a state."
+
+She threw a suspicious glance at Rouletabille, who was not treated
+this morning as the dear little domovoi-doukh.  She permitted
+herself to be conducted, already trembling, before the Emperor.
+
+"What happened?" asked Koupriane agitatedly.
+
+"It so happened, my dear Monsieur Koupriane, that I have the pardon
+of the Emperor for all the crimes you have charged against me, and
+that I wish to shake hands before I go, without any rancor.  Monsieur
+Koupriane, the Emperor will tell you himself that General Trebassof
+is saved, and that his life will never be in danger any more.  Do
+you know what follows?  It follows that you must at once set Matiew
+free, whom I have taken, if you remember, under my protection.  Tell
+him that he is going to make his way in France.  I will find him a
+place on condition that he forgets certain lashes."
+
+"Such a promise!  Such an attitude toward me!" cried Koupriane.
+"But I will wait for the Emperor to tell me all these fine things.
+And your Natacha, what do you do with her?"
+
+"We release her also, monsieur.  Natacha never has been the monster
+that you think."
+
+"How can you say that?  Someone at least is guilty."
+
+"There are two guilty.  The first, Monsieur le Marechal."
+
+"What!" cried the Marshal.
+
+"Monsieur le Marechal, who had the imprudence to bring such
+dangerous grapes to the datcha des Iles, and - and -"
+
+"And the other?" asked Koupriane, more and more anxiously.
+
+"Listen there," said Rouletabille, pointing toward the Emperor's
+cabinet.
+
+The sound of tears and sobs reached them.  The grief and the remorse
+of Matrena Petrovna passed the walls of the cabinet.  Koupriane was
+completely disconcerted.
+
+Suddenly the Emperor appeared.  He was in a state of exaltation
+such as had never been known in him.  Koupriane, dismayed, drew back.
+
+"Monsieur," said the Tsar to him, "I require that Natacha Feodorovna
+be here within the next two hours, and that she be conducted with
+the honors due to her rank.  Natacha is innocent, and we must make
+reparation to her."
+
+Then, turning toward Rouletabille:
+
+"I have learned what she knows and what she owes to you - we owe
+to you, my young friend."
+
+The Tsar said "my young friend." Rouletabille, at this last moment
+before his departure, spoke Russian?
+
+"Then she knows nothing, Sire.  That is better, Sire, because Your
+Majesty and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know
+anything."
+
+"You are right," said the Tsar thoughtfully.  "But, my friend, what
+am I to do for you?"
+
+"Sire, one favor.  Do not let me miss the train at 10:55."
+
+And he threw himself on his knees.
+
+"Remain on your knees, my friend.  You are ready, thus.  Monsieur
+le Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately
+sign.  Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet,
+one of my St. Anne's collars."
+
+And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque," was created
+officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him
+the accolade.
+
+"They combine the whole course of time in this country," thought
+Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.
+
+For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo
+station.  Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the
+young reporter's hand when they learned of his impending departure
+were Ivan Petrovitch, the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and
+Athanase Georgevitch, the lively advocate so well known for his
+famous exploits with knife and fork.  They had come naturally with
+all their bandages and dressings, which made them look like glorious
+ruins.  They brought the greetings of Feodor Feodorovitch, who still
+had a little fever, and of Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the Lithuanian,
+who had both legs broken.
+
+Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his
+last drink of champagne.  When nothing remained in the bottle and
+everyone had embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not
+start quite yet, Athanase Georgevitch opened a second "last" bottle.
+It was then that Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath.
+They invited him to drink, and he accepted.  But he had need to
+speak to Rouletabille in private, and he drew the reporter, after
+excuses, out into the corridor.
+
+"It is the Emperor himself who has sent me," said the high dignitary
+with emotion.  "He has sent me about the eider downs.  You forgot to
+explain the eider downs to him."
+
+"Niet!" replied Rouletabille, laughing.  "That is nothing.  Nitchevo!
+His Majesty's eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the
+feathers that you have shown me demonstrates.  Well, open them now.
+They are a cheap imitation, as the second feather proves.  The
+return of the false eider downs, before evening, proves then that
+they hoped the substitution would pass undetected.  That is all.
+Caracho!  Collapse of the hoax.  Your health!  Vive le Tsar!"
+
+"Caracho!  Caracho!"
+
+The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man
+and a woman.  It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.
+
+Gounsovski stood on the running-board.
+
+"Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands.  You are very
+congenial."
+
+"Compliments, madame."
+
+"Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house
+yesterday."
+
+"I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into
+Finland.  I do not regret it, monsieur."
+
+The train trembled and moved.  They cried, "Vive la France!  Vive
+la Russe!"  Athanase Georgevitch wept.  Matrena Petrovna, at a
+window of the station, whither she had timidly retired, waved a
+handkerchief to the little domovoi-doukh, who had made her see
+everything in the right light, and whom she did not dare to embrace
+after the terrible affair of the false poison and the Tsar's anger.
+
+The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.
+
+As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.
+
+All the same, as the train took its way toward the frontier,
+Rouletabille threw himself back on the cushions, and said:
+
+"Ouf!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Secret of the Night, by Leroux
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+#3 in our series by Gaston Leroux
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
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+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: The Secret of the Night
+
+Author: Gaston Leroux
+
+Release Date: March, 1999 [EBook #1686]
+[This file was last updated on August 5, 2002]
+
+Edition: 11
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT ***
+
+
+
+
+This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
+
+
+
+
+The Secret of the Night
+
+by Gaston Leroux
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+Chapter
+
+I       GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+II      NATACHA
+III     THE WATCH
+IV      "THE YOUTH OF Moscow Is DEAD"
+V       BY ROULETABILLE'S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+VI      THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+VII     ARSENATE OF SODA
+VIII    THE LITTLE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+IX      ANNOUCHEA
+X       A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+XI      THE POISON CONTINUES
+XII     PERE ALEXIS
+XIII    THE LIVING BOMBS
+XIV     THE MARSHES
+XV      "I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU"
+XVI     BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+XVII    THE LAST CRAVAT
+XVIII   A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+XIX     THE TSAR
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+GAYETY AND DYNAMITE
+
+
+"BARINIA, the young stranger has arrived."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Oh, he is waiting at the lodge."
+
+"I told you to show him to Natacha's sitting-room.  Didn't you
+understand me, Ermolai?"
+
+"Pardon, Barinia, but the young stranger, when I asked to search
+him, as you directed, flatly refused to let me."
+
+"Did you explain to him that everybody is searched before being
+allowed to enter, that it is the order, and that even my mother
+herself has submitted to it?"
+
+"I told him all that, Barinia; and I told him about madame your
+mother."
+
+"What did he say to that?"
+
+"That he was not madame your mother.  He acted angry."
+
+"Well, let him come in without being searched."
+
+"The Chief of Police won't like it."
+
+"Do as I say."
+
+Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden.  The "barinia" left the
+veranda, where she had come for this conversation with the old
+servant of General Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the
+dining-room in the datcha des Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan
+Petrovitch was regaling his amused associates with his latest
+exploit at Cubat's resort.  They were a noisy company, and certainly
+the quietest among them was not the general, who nursed on a sofa
+the leg which still held him captive after the recent attack, that
+to his old coachman and his two piebald horses had proved fatal.
+The story of the always-amiable Ivan Petrovitch (a lively, little,
+elderly man with his head bald as an egg) was about the evening
+before.  After having, as he said, "recure la bouche" for these
+gentlemen spoke French like their own language and used it among
+themselves to keep their servants from understanding - after having
+wet his whistle with a large glass of sparkling rosy French wine,
+he cried:
+
+"You would have laughed, Feodor Feodorovitch.  We had sung songs
+on the Barque* and then the Bohemians left with their music and we
+went out onto the river-bank to stretch our legs and cool our faces
+in the freshness of the dawn, when a company of Cossacks of the
+Guard came along.  I knew the officer in command and invited him to
+come along with us and drink the Emperor's health at Cubat's place.
+That officer, Feodor Feodorovitch, is a man who knows vintages and
+boasts that he has never swallowed a glass of anything so common as
+Crimean wine.  When I named champagne he cried, 'Vive l'Empereur!'
+A true patriot.  So we started, merry as school-children.  The
+entire company followed, then all the diners playing little whistles,
+and all the servants besides, single file.  At Cubat's I hated to
+leave the companion-officers of my friend at the door, so I invited
+them in, too.  They accepted, naturally.  But the subalterns were
+thirsty as well.  I understand discipline.  You know, Feodor
+Feodorovitch, that I am a stickler for discipline.  Just because
+one is gay of a spring morning, discipline should not be forgotten.
+I invited the officers to drink in a private room, and sent the
+subalterns into the main hall of the restaurant.  Then the soldiers
+were thirsty, too, and I had drinks served to them out in the
+courtyard.  Then, my word, there was a perplexing business, for now
+the horses whinnied.  The brave horses, Feodor Feodorovitch, who
+also wished to drink the health of the Emperor.  I was bothered
+about the discipline.  Hall, court, all were full.  And I could not
+put the horses in private rooms.  Well, I made them carry out
+champagne in pails and then came the perplexing business I had tried
+so hard to avoid, a grand mixture of boots and horse-shoes that was
+certainly the liveliest thing I have ever seen in my life.  But the
+horses were the most joyous, and danced as if a torch was held under
+their nostrils, and all of them, my word! were ready to throw their
+riders because the men were not of the same mind with them as to
+the route to follow!  From our window we laughed fit to kill at such
+a mixture of sprawling boots and dancing hoofs.  But the troopers
+finally got all their horses to barracks, with patience, for the
+Emperor's cavalry are the best riders in the world, Feodor
+Feodorovitch.  And we certainly had a great laugh! - Your health,
+Matrena Petrovna."
+
+[*The "Barque" is a restaurant on a boat, among the isles,
+near the Gulf of Finland, on a bank of the Neva.]
+
+These last graceful words were addressed to Madame Trebassof, who
+shrugged her shoulders at the undesired gallantry of the gay
+Councilor.   She did not join in the conversation, excepting to
+calm the general, who wished to send the whole regiment to the
+guard-house, men and horses.  And while the roisterers laughed over
+the adventure she said to her husband in the advisory voice of the
+helpful wife:
+
+"Feodor, you must not attach importance to what that old fool Ivan
+tells you.  He is the most imaginative man in the capital when he
+has had champagne."
+
+"Ivan, you certainly have not had horses served with champagne in
+pails," the old boaster, Athanase Georgevitch, protested jealously.
+He was an advocate, well-known for his table-feats, who claimed the
+hardest drinking reputation of any man in the capital, and he
+regretted not to have invented that tale.
+
+"On my word!   And the best brands!  I had won four thousand
+roubles.  I left the little fete with fifteen kopecks."
+
+Matrena Petrovna was listening to Ermolai, the faithful country
+servant who wore always, even here in the city, his habit of fresh
+nankeen, his black leather belt, his large blue pantaloons and his
+boots glistening like ice, his country costume in his master's city
+home.  Madame Matrena rose, after lightly stroking the hair of her
+step-daughter Natacha, whose eyes followed her to the door,
+indifferent apparently to the tender manifestations of her father's
+orderly, the soldier-poet, Boris Mourazoff, who had written
+beautiful verses on the death of the Moscow students, after having
+shot them, in the way of duty, on their barricades.
+
+Ermolai conducted his mistress to the drawing-room and pointed
+across to a door that he had left open, which led to the
+sitting-room before Natacha's chamber.
+
+"He is there," said Ermolai in a low voice.
+
+Ermolai need have said nothing, for that matter, since Madame
+Matrena was aware of a stranger's presence in the sitting-room
+by the extraordinary attitude of an individual in a maroon
+frock-coat bordered with false astrakhan, such as is on the coats
+of all the Russian police agents and makes the secret agents
+recognizable at first glance.  This policeman was on his knees
+in the drawing-room watching what passed in the next room through
+the narrow space of light in the hinge-way of the door.  In this
+manner, or some other, all persons who wished to approach General
+Trebassof were kept under observation without their knowing it,
+after having been first searched at the lodge, a measure adopted
+since the latest attack.
+
+Madame Matrena touched the policeman's shoulder with that heroic
+hand which had saved her husband's life and which still bore traces
+of the terrible explosion in the last attack, when she had seized
+the infernal machine intended for the general with her bare hand.
+The policeman rose and silently left the room, reached the veranda
+and lounged there on a sofa, pretending to be asleep, but in
+reality watching the garden paths.
+
+Matrena Petrovna took his place at the hinge-vent.  This was her
+rule; she always took the final glance at everything and everybody.
+She roved at all hours of the day and night round about the general,
+like a watch-dog, ready to bite, to throw itself before the danger,
+to receive the blows, to perish for its master.  This had commenced
+at Moscow after the terrible repression, the massacre of
+revolutionaries under the walls of Presnia, when the surviving
+Nihilists left behind them a placard condemning the victorious
+General Trebassof to death.  Matrena Petrovna lived only for the
+general.  She had vowed that she would not survive him.  So she had
+double reason to guard him.
+
+But she had lost all confidence even within the walls of her own
+home.
+
+Things had happened even there that defied her caution, her
+instinct, her love.  She had not spoken of these things save to the
+Chief of Police, Koupriane, who had reported them to the Emperor.
+And here now was the man whom the Emperor had sent, as the supreme
+resource, this young stranger - Joseph Rouletabille, reporter.
+
+"But he is a mere boy!" she exclaimed, without at all understanding
+the matter, this youthful figure, with soft, rounded cheeks, eyes
+clear and, at first view, extraordinarily naive, the eyes of an
+infant.  True, at the moment Rouletabille's expression hardly
+suggested any superhuman profundity of thought, for, left in view
+of a table, spread with hors-d'oeuvres, the young man appeared
+solely occupied in digging out with a spoon all the caviare that
+remained in the jars.  Matrena noted the rosy freshness of his
+cheeks, the absence of down on his lip and not a hint of beard, the
+thick hair, with the curl over the forehead.  Ah, that forehead
+- the forehead was curious, with great over-hanging cranial lumps
+which moved above the deep arcade of the eye-sockets while the mouth
+was busy - well, one would have said that Rouletabille had not
+eaten for a week.  He was demolishing a great slice of Volgan
+sturgeon, contemplating at the same time with immense interest a
+salad of creamed cucumbers, when Matrena Petrovna appeared.
+
+He wished to excuse himself at once and spoke with his mouth full.
+
+"I beg your pardon, madame, but the Czar forgot to invite me to
+breakfast."
+
+Madame Matrena smiled and gave him a hearty handshake as she urged
+him to be seated.
+
+"You have seen His Majesty?"
+
+"I come from him, madame.  It is to Madame Trebassof that I have
+the honor of speaking?"
+
+"Yes.  And you are Monsieur - ?"
+
+"Joseph Rouletabille, madame.  I do not add, 'At your service
+- because I do not know about that yet.  That is what I said just
+now to His Majesty."
+
+"Then?" asked Madame Matrena, rather amused by the tone the
+conversation had taken and the slightly flurried air of Rouletabille.
+
+"Why, then, I am a reporter, you see.  That is what I said at once
+to my editor in Paris, 'I am not going to take part in revolutionary
+affairs that do not concern my country,' to which my editor replied,
+'You do not have to take part.  You must go to Russia to make an
+inquiry into the present status of the different parties.  You will
+commence by interviewing the Emperor.'  I said, 'Well, then, here
+goes,' and took the train."
+
+"And you have interviewed the Emperor?"
+
+"Oh, yes, that has not been difficult.  I expected to arrive direct
+at St. Petersburg, but at Krasnoie-Coelo the train stopped and the
+grand-marshal of the court came to me and asked me to follow him.
+It was very flattering.  Twenty minutes later I was before His
+Majesty.  He awaited me!  I understood at once that this was
+obviously for something out of the ordinary."
+
+"And what did he say to you?"
+
+"He is a man of genuine majesty.  He reassured me at once when I
+explained my scruples to him.  He said there was no occasion for me
+to take part in the politics of the matter, but to save his most
+faithful servant, who was on the point of becoming the victim of
+the strangest family drama ever conceived."
+
+Madame Matrena, white as a sheet, rose to her feet.
+
+"Ah," she said simply.
+
+But Rouletabille, whom nothing escaped, saw her hand tremble on the
+back of the chair.
+
+He went on, not appearing to have noticed her emotion:
+
+"His Majesty added these exact words: 'It is I who ask it of you;
+I and Madame Trebassof.  Go, monsieur, she awaits you'"
+
+He ceased and waited for Madame Trebassof to speak.
+
+She made up her mind after brief reflection.
+
+"Have you seen Koupriane?"
+
+"The Chief of Police?  Yes.  The grand-marshal accompanied me back
+to the station at Krasnoie-Coelo, and the Chief of Police
+accompanied me to St. Petersburg station.  One could not have been
+better received."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille," said Matrena, who visibly strove to regain
+her self-control, "I am not of Koupriane's opinion and I am not"
+- here she lowered her trembling voice - " of the opinion His
+Majesty holds.  It is better for me to tell you at once, so that
+you may not regret intervening in an affair where there are - where
+there are - risks - terrible risks to run.  No, this is not a family
+drama.  The family is small, very small: the general, his daughter
+Natacha (by his former marriage), and myself.  There could not be a
+family drama among us three.  It is simply about my husband,
+monsieur, who did his duty as a soldier in defending the throne of
+his sovereign, my husband whom they mean to assassinate!  There is
+nothing else, no other situation, my dear little guest."
+
+To hide her distress she started to carve a slice of jellied veal
+and carrot.
+
+"You have not eaten, you are hungry.  It is dreadful, my dear young
+man.  See, you must dine with us, and then - you will say adieu.
+Yes, you will leave me all alone.  I will undertake to save him all
+alone.  Certainly, I will undertake it."
+
+A tear fell on the slice she was cutting.  Rouletabille, who felt
+the brave woman's emotion affecting him also, braced himself to keep
+from showing it.
+
+"I am able to help you a little all the same," he said.  "Monsieur
+Koupriane has told me that there is a deep mystery.  It is my
+vocation to get to the bottom of mysteries."
+
+"I know what Koupriane thinks," she said, shaking her head.  "But
+if I could bring myself to think that for a single day I would
+rather be dead."
+
+The good Matrena Petrovna lifted her beautiful eyes to Rouletabille,
+brimming with the tears she held back.
+
+She added quickly:
+
+"But eat now, my dear guest; eat.  My dear child, you must forget
+what Koupriane has said to you, when you are back in France."
+
+"I promise you that, madame."
+
+"It is the Emperor who has caused you this long journey.  For me,
+I did not wish it.  Has he, indeed, so much confidence in you?" she
+asked naively, gazing at him fixedly through her tears.
+
+"Madame, I was just about to tell you.  I have been active in some
+important matters that have been reported to him, and then sometimes
+your Emperor is allowed to see the papers.  He has heard talk, too
+(for everybody talked of them, madame), about the Mystery of the
+Yellow Room and the Perfume of the Lady in Black."
+
+Here Rouletabille watched Madame Trebassof and was much mortified
+at the undoubted ignorance that showed in her frank face of either
+the yellow room or the black perfume.
+
+"My young friend," said she, in a voice more and more hesitant,
+"you must excuse me, but it is a long time since I have had good
+eyes for reading."
+
+Tears, at last, ran down her cheeks.
+
+Rouletabille could not restrain himself any further.  He saw in one
+flash all this heroic woman had suffered in her combat day by day
+with the death which hovered.  He took her little fat hands, whose
+fingers were overloaded with rings, tremulously into his own:
+
+"Madame, do not weep.  They wish to kill your husband.  Well then,
+we will be two at least to defend him, I swear to you."
+
+"Even against the Nihilists!"
+
+"Aye, madame, against all the world.  I have eaten all your caviare.
+I am your guest.  I am your friend."
+
+As he said this he was so excited, so sincere and so droll that
+Madame Trebassof could not help smiling through her tears.  She made
+him sit down beside her.
+
+"The Chief of Police has talked of you a great deal.  He came here
+abruptly after the last attack and a mysterious happening that I
+will tell you about.  He cried, 'Ah, we need Rouletabille to unravel
+this!'  The next day he came here again.  He had gone to the Court.
+There, everybody, it appears, was talking of you.  The Emperor
+wished to know you.  That is why steps were taken through the
+ambassador at Paris."
+
+"Yes, yes.  And naturally all the world has learned of it.  That
+makes it so lively.  The Nihilists warned me immediately that I
+would not reach Russia alive.  That, finally, was what decided me
+on coming.  I am naturally very contrary."
+
+"And how did you get through the journey?"
+
+"Not badly.  I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned
+to kill me, and I reached an understanding with him.  He was a
+charming youth, so it was easily arranged."
+
+Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would
+have been difficult for him to name.  Matrena Petrovna laid her fat
+little hand on his arm:
+
+"You speak seriously?"
+
+"Very seriously."
+
+"A small glass of vodka?"
+
+"No alcohol."
+
+Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.
+
+"And how did you discover him?  How did you know him?"
+
+"First, he wore glasses.  All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling.
+And then I had a good clew.  A minute before the departure from
+Paris I had a friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a
+reporter who would do anything I said without even wanting to know
+why.  I said, 'You call out suddenly and very loud, "Hello, here is
+Rouletabille."'  So he called, 'Hello, here is Rouletabille,' and
+all those who were in the corridor turned and all those who were
+already in the compartments came out, excepting the man with the
+glasses.  Then I was sure about him."
+
+Madame Trebassof looked at Rouletabile, who turned as red as the
+comb of a rooster and was rather embarrassed at his fatuity.
+
+"That deserves a rebuff, I know, madame, but from the moment the
+Emperor of all the Russias had desired to see me I could not admit
+that any mere man with glasses had not the curiosity to see what
+I looked like.  It was not natural.  As soon as the train was off
+I sat down by this man and told him who I thought he was.  I was
+right.  He removed his glasses and, looking me straight in the eyes,
+said he was glad to have a little talk with me before anything
+unfortunate happened.  A half-hour later the entente-cordiale was
+signed.  I gave him to understand that I was coming here simply on
+business as a reporter and that there was always time to check me
+if I should be indiscreet.  At the German frontier he left me to
+go on, and returned tranquilly to his nitro-glycerine."
+
+"You are a marked man also, my poor boy."
+
+"Oh, they have not got us yet."
+
+Matrena Petrovna coughed.  That _us_ overwhelmed her.  With what
+calmness this boy that she had not known an hour proposed to share
+the dangers of a situation that excited general pity but from which
+the bravest kept aloof either from prudence or dismay.
+
+"Ah, my friend, a little of this fine smoked Hamburg beef?"
+
+But the young man was already pouring out fresh yellow beer.
+
+"There," said he.  "Now, madame, I am listening.  Tell me first
+about the earliest attack."
+
+"Now," said Matrena, "we must go to dinner."
+
+Rouletabille looked at her wide-eyed.
+
+"But, madame, what have I just been doing?"
+
+Madame Matrena smiled.  All these strangers were alike.  Because
+they had eaten some hors-d'ceuvres, some zakouskis, they imagined
+their host would be satisfied.  They did not know how to eat.
+
+"We will go to the dining-room.  The general is expecting you.
+They are at table."
+
+"I understand I am supposed to know him."
+
+"Yes, you have met in Paris.  It is entirely natural that in passing
+through St. Petersburg you should make him a visit.  You know him
+very well indeed, so well that he opens his home to you.  Ah, yes,
+my step-daughter also " - she flushed a little - " Natacha believes
+that her father knows you."
+
+She opened the door of the drawing-room, which they had to cross in
+order to reach the dining-room.
+
+From his present position Rouletabille could see all the corners of
+the drawing-room, the veranda, the garden and the entrance lodge at
+the gate.  In the veranda the man in the maroon frock-coat trimmed
+with false astrakhan seemed still to be asleep on the sofa; in one
+of the corners of the drawing-room another individual, silent and
+motionless as a statue, dressed exactly the same, in a maroon
+frock-coat with false astrakhan, stood with his hands behind his
+back seemingly struck with general paralysis at the sight of a
+flaring sunset which illumined as with a torch the golden spires of
+Saints Peter and Paul.  And in the garden and before the lodge
+three others dressed in maroon roved like souls in pain over the
+lawn or back and forth at the entrance.  Rouletabille motioned to
+Madame Matrena, stepped back into the sitting-room and closed the
+door.
+
+"Police?" he asked.
+
+Matrena Petrovna nodded her head and put her finger to her mouth
+in a naive way, as one would caution a child to silence.
+Rouletabille smiled.
+
+"How many are there?"
+
+"Ten, relieved every six hours."
+
+"That makes forty unknown men around your house each day."
+
+"Not unknown," she replied.  "Police."
+
+"Yet, in spite of them, you have had the affair of the bouquet in
+the general's chamber."
+
+"No, there were only three then.  It is since the affair of the
+bouquet that there have been ten."
+
+"It hardly matters.  It is since these ten that you have had ..."
+
+"What?" she demanded anxiously.
+
+"You know well - the flooring."
+
+"Sh-h-h."
+
+She glanced at the door, watching the policeman statuesque before
+the setting sun.
+
+"No one knows that - not even my husband."
+
+"So M. Koupriane told me.  Then it is you who have arranged for
+these ten police-agents?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, we will commence now by sending all these police away."
+
+Matrena Petrovna grasped his hand, astounded.
+
+"Surely you don't think of doing such a thing as that!"
+
+"Yes.  We must know where the blow is coming from.  You have four
+different groups of people around here - the police, the domestics,
+your friends, your family.  Get rid of the police first.  They must
+not be permitted to cross your threshold.  They have not been able
+to protect you.  You have nothing to regret.  And if, after they
+are gone, something new turns up, we can leave M.  Koupriane to
+conduct the inquiries without his being preoccupied here at the
+house."
+
+"But you do not know the admirable police of Koupriane.  These brave
+men have given proof of their devotion."
+
+"Madame, if I were face to face with a Nihilist the first thing I
+would ask myself about him would be, 'Is he one of the police?'
+The first thing I ask in the presence of an agent of your police is,
+'Is he not a Nihilist?'"
+
+"But they will not wish to go."
+
+"Do any of them speak French?"
+
+"Yes, their sergeant, who is out there in the salon."
+
+"Pray call him."
+
+Madame Trebassof walked into the salon and signaled.  The man
+appeared.  Rouletabille handed him a paper, which the other read.
+
+"You will gather your men together and quit the villa," ordered
+Rouletabille.  "You will return to the police Headguarters.  Say to
+M. Koupriane that I have commanded this and that I require all police
+service around the villa to be suspended until further orders."
+
+The man bowed, appeared not to understand, looked at Madame
+Trebassof and said to the young man:
+
+"At your service."
+
+He went out.
+
+"Wait here a moment," urged Madame Trebassof, who did not know how
+to take this abrupt action and whose anxiety was really painful
+to see.
+
+She disappeared after the man of the false astrakhan. A few moments
+afterwards she returned.  She appeared even more agitated.
+
+"I beg your pardon," she murmured, "but I cannot let them go like
+this.  They are much chagrined.  They have insisted on knowing where
+they have failed in their service.  I have appeased them with money."
+
+"Yes, and tell me the whole truth, madame.  You have directed them
+not to go far away, but to remain near the villa so as to watch it
+as closely as possible."
+
+She reddened.
+
+"It is true.  But they have gone, nevertheless.  They had to obey
+you.  What can that paper be you have shown them?"
+
+Rouletabille drew out again the billet covered with seals and signs
+and cabalistics that he did not understand.  Madame Trebassof
+translated it aloud: "Order to all officials in surveillance of the
+Villa Trebassof to obey the bearer absolutely.  Signed: Koupriane."
+
+"Is it possible!" murmured Matrena Petrovna.  "But Koupriane would
+never have given you this paper if he had imagined that you would
+use it to dismiss his agents."
+
+"Evidently.  I have not asked him his advice, madame, you may be
+sure.  But I will see him to-morrow and he will understand."
+
+"Meanwhile, who is going to watch over him?" cried she.
+
+Rouletabille took her hands again.  He saw her suffering, a prey
+to anguish almost prostrating.  He pitied her.  He wished to give
+her immediate confidence.
+
+"We will," he said.
+
+She saw his young, clear eyes, so deep, so intelligent, the
+well-formed young head, the willing face, all his young ardency for
+her, and it reassured her.  Rouletabille waited for what she might
+say.  She said nothing.  She took him in her arms and embraced him.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+NATACHA
+
+In the dining-room it was Thaddeus Tchnichnikoff's turn to tell
+hunting stories.  He was the greatest timber-merchant in Lithuania.
+He owned immense forests and he loved Feodor Feodorovitch* as a
+brother, for they had played together all through their childhood,
+and once he had saved him from a bear that was just about to crush
+his skull as one might knock off a hat.  General Trebassof's father
+was governor of Courlande at that time, by the grace of God and the
+Little Father.  Thaddeus, who was just thirteen years old, killed
+the bear with a single stroke of his boar-spear, and just in time.
+Close ties were knit between the two families by this occurrence,
+and though Thaddeus was neither noble-born nor a soldier, Feodor
+considered him his brother and felt toward him as such.  Now
+Thaddeus had become the greatest timber-merchant of the western
+provinces, with his own forests and also with his massive body,
+his fat, oily face, his bull-neck and his ample paunch.  He quitted
+everything at once - all his affairs, his family - as soon as he
+learned of the first attack, to come and remain by the side of his
+dear comrade Feodor.  He had done this after each attack, without
+forgetting one.  He was a faithful friend.  But he fretted because
+they might not go bear-hunting as in their youth.  'Where, he would
+ask, are there any bears remaining in Courlande, or trees for that
+matter, what you could call trees, growing since the days of the
+grand-dukes of Lithuania, giant trees that threw their shade right
+up to the very edge of the towns? Where were such things nowadays?
+Thaddeus was very amusing, for it was he, certainly, who had cut
+them away tranquilly enough and watched them vanish in locomotive
+smoke.  It was what was called Progress.  Ah, hunting lost its
+national character assuredly with tiny new-growth trees which had
+not had time to grow.  And, besides, one nowadays had not time for
+hunting.  All the big game was so far away.  Lucky enough if one
+seized the time to bring down a brace of woodcock early in the
+morning.  At this point in Thaddeus's conversation there was a
+babble of talk among the convivial gentlemen, for they had all the
+time in the world at their disposal and could not see why he should
+be so concerned about snatching a little while at morning or
+evening, or at midday for that matter.  Champagne was flowing like
+a river when Rouletabille was brought in by Matrena Petrovna.  The
+general, whose eyes had been on the door for some time, cried at
+once, as though responding to a cue:
+
+"Ah, my dear Rouletabille!  I have been looking for you.  Our
+friends wrote me you were coming to St. Petersburg."
+
+_____________________________________________________________________
+
+*In this story according to Russian habit General Trebassof is
+called alternately by that name or the family name Feodor
+Feodorovitch, and Madame Trebassof by that name or her family
+name, Matrena Petrovna.- Translator's Note.
+_____________________________________________________________________
+
+
+Rouletabille hurried over to him and they shook hands like friends
+who meet after a long separation.  The reporter was presented to
+the company as a close young friend from Paris whom they had enjoyed
+so much during their latest visit to the City of Light.  Everybody
+inquired for the latest word of Paris as of a dear acquaintance.
+
+"How is everybody at Maxim's?" urged the excellent Athanase
+Georgevitch.
+
+Thaddeus, too, had been once in Paris and he returned with an
+enthusiastic liking for the French demoiselles.
+
+"Vos gogottes, monsieur," he said, appearing very amiable and
+leaning on each word, with a guttural emphasis such as is common
+in the western provinces, "ah, vos gogottes!"
+
+Matrena Perovna tried to silence him, but Thaddeus insisted on his
+right to appreciate the fair sex away from home.  He had a turgid,
+sentimental wife, always weeping and cramming her religious notions
+down his throat.
+
+Of course someone asked Rouletabille what he thought of Russia, but
+he had no more than opened his mouth to reply than Athanase
+Georgevitch closed it by interrupting:
+
+"Permettez!  Permettez!  You others, of the young generation, what
+do you know of it?  You need to have lived a long time and in all
+its districts to appreciate Russia at its true value.  Russia,
+my young sir, is as yet a closed book to you."
+
+"Naturally," Rouletabille answered, smiling.
+
+"Well, well, here's your health!  What I would point out to you
+first of all is that it is a good buyer of champagne, eh?" - and
+he gave a huge grin.  "But the hardest drinker I ever knew was born
+on the banks of the Seine.  Did you know him, Feodor Feodorovitch?
+Poor Charles Dufour, who died two years ago at  fete of the officers
+of the Guard.  He wagered at the end of the banquet that he could
+drink a glassful of champagne to the health of each man there.
+There were sixty when you came to count them.  He commenced the
+round of the table and the affair went splendidly up to the
+fifty-eighth man.  But at the fifty-ninth - think of the
+misfortune! - the champagne ran out!  That poor, that charming,
+that excellent Charles took up a glass of vin dore which was in the
+glass of this fifty-ninth, wished him long life, drained the glass
+at one draught, had just time to murmur, 'Tokay, 1807,' and fell
+back dead!  Ah, he knew the brands, my word! and he proved it to
+his last breath!  Peace to his ashes!  They asked what he died of.
+I knew he died because of the inappropriate blend of flavors.  There
+should be discipline in all things and not promiscuous mixing.  One
+more glass of champagne and he would have been drinking with us
+this evening.  Your health, Matrena Petrovna.  Champagne, Feodor
+Feodorovitch!  Vive la France, monsieur!  Natacha, my child, you
+must sing something.  Boris will accompany you on the guzla.  Your
+father will enjoy it."
+
+All eyes turned toward Natacha as she rose.
+
+Rouletabille was struck by her serene beauty.  That was the first
+enthralling impression, an impression so strong it astonished him,
+the perfect serenity, the supreme calm, the tranquil harmony of her
+noble features.  Natacha was twenty.  Heavy brown hair circled about
+er forehead and was looped about her ears, which were half-concealed.
+Her profile was clear-cut; her mouth was strong and revealed between
+red, firm lips the even pearliness of her teeth.  She was of medium
+height.  In walking she had the free, light step of the highborn
+maidens who, in primal times, pressed the flowers as they passed
+without crushing them.  But all her true grace seemed to be
+concentrated in her eyes, which were deep and of a dark blue.
+The impression she made upon a beholder was very complex.  And it
+would have been difficult to say whether the calm which pervaded
+every manifestation of her beauty was the result of conscious
+control or the most perfect ease.
+
+She took down the guzla and handed it to Boris, who struck some
+plaintive preliminary chords.
+
+"What shall I sing?" she inquired, raising her father's hand from
+the back of the sofa where he rested and kissing it with filial
+tenderness.
+
+"Improvise," said the general.  "Improvise in French, for the sake
+of our guest."
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Boris; "improvise as you did the other evening."
+
+He immediately struck a minor chord.
+
+Natacha looked fondly at her father as she sang:
+
+  "When the moment comes that parts us at the close of day,
+  when the Angel of Sleep covers you with azure wings;
+  "Oh, may your eyes rest from so many tears, and your oppressed
+        heart have calm;
+  "In each moment that we have together, Father dear, let our
+        souls feel harmony sweet and mystical;
+  "And when your thoughts may have flown to other worlds, oh, may
+        my image, at least, nestle within your sleeping eyes."
+
+Natacha's voice was sweet, and the charm of it subtly pervasive.
+The words as she uttered them seemed to have all the quality of a
+prayer and there were tears in all eyes, excepting those of Michael
+Korsakoff, the second orderly, whom Rouletabille appraised as a man
+with a rough heart not much open to sentiment.
+
+"Feodor Feodorovitch," said this officer, when the young girl's
+voice had faded away into the blending with the last note of the
+guzla, "Feodor Feodorovitch is a man and a glorious soldier who is
+able to sleep in peace, because he has labored for his country and
+for his Czar."
+
+"Yes, yes.  Labored well!  A glorious soldier!" repeated Athanase
+Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch.  "Well may he sleep peacefully."
+
+"Natacha sang like an angel," said Boris, the first orderly, in a
+tremulous voice.
+
+"Like an angel, Boris Nikolaievitch.  But why did she speak of his
+heart oppressed?  I don't see that General Trebassof has a heart
+oppressed, for my part."  Michael Korsakoff spoke roughly as he
+drained his glass.
+
+"No, that's so, isn't it?" agreed the others.
+
+"A young girl may wish her father a pleasant sleep, surely!" said
+Matrena Petrovna, with a certain good sense.  "Natacha has affected
+us all, has she not, Feodor?"
+
+"Yes, she made me weep," declared the general.  "But let us have
+champagne to cheer us up.  Our young friend here will think we
+are chicken-hearted."
+
+"Never think that," said Rouletabille.  "Mademoiselle has touched
+me deeply as well.  She is an artist, really a great artist.  And
+a poet."
+
+"He is from Paris; he knows," said the others.
+
+And all drank.
+
+Then they talked about music, with great display of knowledge
+concerning things operatic.  First one, then another went to the
+piano and ran through some motif that the rest hummed a little
+first, then shouted in a rousing chorus.  Then they drank more,
+amid a perfect fracas of talk and laughter.  Ivan Petrovitch and
+Athanase Georgevitch walked across and kissed the general.
+Rouletabille saw all around him great children who amused
+themselves with unbelievable naivete and who drank in a fashion
+more unbelievable still.  Matrena Petrovna smoked cigarettes of
+yellow tobacco incessantly, rising almost continually to make a
+hurried round of the rooms, and after having prompted the servants
+to greater watchfulness, sat and looked long at Rouletabille, who
+did not stir, but caught every word, every gesture of each one
+there.  Finally, sighing, she sat down by Feodor and asked how his
+leg felt.  Michael and Natacha, in a corner, were deep in
+conversation, and Boris watched them with obvious impatience, still
+strumming the guzla.  But the thing that struck Rouletabille's
+youthful imagination beyond all else was the mild face of the
+general.  He had not imagined the terrible Trebassof with so
+paternal and sympathetic an expression.  The Paris papers had
+printed redoubtable pictures of him, more or less authentic, but
+the arts of photography and engraving had cut vigorous, rough
+features of an official - who knew no pity.  Such pictures were in
+perfect accord with the idea one naturally had of the dominating
+figure of the government at Moscow, the man who, during eight
+days - the Red Week - had made so many corpses of students and
+workmen that the halls of the University and the factories had
+opened their doors since in vain.  The dead would have had to arise
+for those places to be peopled!  Days of terrible battle where in
+one quarter or another of the city there was naught but massacre or
+burnings, until Matrena Petrovna and her step-daughter, Natacha
+(all the papers told of it), had fallen on their knees before the
+general and begged terms for the last of the revolutionaries, at
+bay in the Presnia quarter, and had been refused by him.  "War is
+war," had been his answer, with irrefutable logic.  "How can you
+ask mercy for these men who never give it?" Be it said for the
+young men of the barricades that they never surrendered, and equally
+be it said for Trebassof that he necessarily shot them.  "If I had
+only myself to consider," the general had said to a Paris
+journalist, "I could have been gentle as a lamb with these
+unfortunates, and so I should not now myself be condemned to death.
+After all, I fail to see what they reproach me with.  I have served
+my master as a brave and loyal subject, no more, and, after the
+fighting, I have let others ferret out the children that had hidden
+under their mothers' skirts.  Everybody talks of the repression of
+Moscow, but let us speak, my friend, of the Commune.  There was a
+piece of work I would not have done, to massacre within a court an
+unresisting crowd of men, women and children.  I am a rough and
+faithful soldier of His Majesty, but I am not a monster, and I have
+the feelings of a husband and father, my dear monsieur.  Tell your
+readers that, if you care to, and do not surmise further about
+whether I appear to regret being condemned to death."
+
+Certainly what stupefied Rouletabille now was this staunch figure
+of the condemned man who appeared so tranquilly to enjoy his life.
+When the general was not furthering the gayety of his friends he
+was talking with his wife and daughter, who adored him and
+continually fondled him, and he seemed perfectly happy.  With his
+enormous grizzly mustache, his ruddy color, his keen, piercing
+eyes, he looked the typical spoiled father.
+
+The reporter studied all these widely-different types and made his
+observations while pretending to a ravenous appetite, which served,
+moreover, to fix him in the good graces of his hosts of the datcha
+des Iles.  But, in reality, he passed the food to an enormous
+bull-dog under the table, in whose good graces he was also thus
+firmly planting himself.  As Trebassof had prayed his companions to
+let his young friend satisfy his ravening hunger in peace, they did
+not concern themelves to entertain him.  Then, too, the music
+served to distract attention from him, and at a moment somewhat
+later, when Matrena Petrovna turned to speak to the young man, she
+was frightened at not seeing him.  Where had he gone?  She went out
+into the veranda and looked.  She did not dare to call.  She walked
+into the grand-salon and saw the reporter just as he came out of
+the sitting-room.
+
+"Where were you?" she inquired.
+
+"The sitting-room is certainly charming, and decorated exquisitely,"
+complimented Rouletabille.  "It seems almost a boudoir."
+
+"It does serve as a boudoir for my step-daughter, whose bedroom
+opens directly from it; you see the door there.  It is simply for
+the present that the luncheon table is set there, because for some
+time the police have pre-empted the veranda."
+
+"Is your dog a watch-dog, madame?" asked Rouletabille, caressing
+the beast, which had followed him.
+
+"Khor is faithful and had guarded us well hitherto."
+
+"He sleeps now, then?"
+
+"Yes.  Koupriane has him shut in the lodge to keep him from barking
+nights.  Koupriane fears that if he is out he will devour one of
+the police who watch in the garden at night.  I wanted him to sleep
+in the house, or by his master's door, or even at the foot of the
+bed, but Koupriane said, 'No, no; no dog.  Don't rely on the dog.
+Nothing is more dangerous than to rely on the dog. 'Since then he
+has kept Khor locked up at night.  But I do not understand
+Koupriane's idea."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane is right," said the reporter.  "Dogs are useful
+only against strangers."
+
+"Oh," gasped the poor woman, dropping her eyes.  "Koupriane
+certainly knows his business; he thinks of everything."
+
+"Come," she added rapidiy, as though to hide her disquiet, "do not
+go out like that without letting me know.  They want you in the
+dining-room."
+
+"I must have you tell me right now about this attempt."
+
+"In the dining-room, in the dining-room.  In spite of myself," she
+said in a low voice, "it is stronger than I am.  I am not able to
+leave the general by himself while he is on the ground-floor."
+
+She drew Rouletabille into the dining-room, where the gentlemen were
+now telling odd stories of street robberies amid loud laughter.
+Natacha was still talking with Michael Korsakoff; Boris, whose eyes
+never quitted them, was as pale as the wax on his guzla, which he
+rattled violently from time to time.  Matrena made Rouletabille sit
+in a corner of the sofa, near her, and, counting on her fingers
+like a careful housewife who does not wish to overlook anything in
+her domestic calculations, she said:
+
+"There have been three attempts; the first two in Moscow.  The first
+happened very simply.  The general knew he had been condemned to
+death.  They had delivered to him at the palace in the afternoon the
+revoluntionary poster which proclaimed his intended fate to the
+whole city and country.  So Feodor, who was just about to ride into
+the city, dismissed his escort.  He ordered horses put to a sleigh.
+I trembled and asked what he was going to do.  He said he was going
+to drive quietly through all parts of the city, in order to show the
+Muscovites that a governor appointed according to law by the Little
+Father and who had in his conscience only the sense that he had
+done his full duty was not to be intimidated.  It was nearly four
+o'clock, toward the end of a winter day that had been clear and
+bright, but very cold.  I wrapped myself in my furs and took my
+seat beside him, and he said, 'This is fine, Matrena; this will
+have a great effect on these imbeciles.'  So we started.  At
+first we drove along the Naberjnaia.  The sleigh glided like
+the wind.  The general hit the driver a heavy blow in the back,
+crying, 'Slower, fool; they will think we are afraid,' and so the
+horses were almost walking when, passing behind the Church of
+Protection and intercession, we reached the Place Rouge.  Until
+then the few passers-by had looked at us, and as they recognized
+him, hurried along to keep him in view.  At the Place Rouge there
+was only a little knot of women kneeling before the Virgin.  As
+soon as these women saw us and recognized the equipage of the
+Governor, they dispersed like a flock of crows, with frightened
+cries.  Feodor laughed so hard that as we passed under the vault
+of the Virgin his laugh seemed to shake the stones.  I felt
+reassured, monsieur.  Our promenade continued without any remarkable
+incident.  The city was almost deserted.  Everything lay prostrated
+under the awful blow of that battle in the street.  Feodor said,
+'Ah, they give me a wide berth; they do not know how much I love
+them," and all through that promenade he said many more charming
+and delicate things to me.
+
+"As we were talking pleasantly under our furs we came to la Place
+Koudrinsky, la rue Koudrinsky, to be exact.  It was just four
+o'clock, and a light mist had commenced to mix with the sifting
+snow, and the houses to right and left were visible only as masses
+of shadow.  We glided over the snow like a boat along the river in
+foggy calm.  Then, suddenly, we heard piercing cries and saw shadows
+of soldiers rushing around, with movements that looked larger than
+human through the mist; their short whips looked enormous as they
+knocked some other shadows that we saw down like logs.  The general
+stopped the sleigh and got out to see what was going on.  I got out
+with him.  They were soldiers of the famous Semenowsky regiment,
+who had two prisoners, a young man and a child.  The child was being
+beaten on the nape of the neck.  It writhed on the ground and cried
+in torment.  It couldn't have been more than nine years old.  The
+other, the young man, held himself up and marched along without a
+single cry as the thongs fell brutally upon him.  I was appalled.
+I did not give my husband time to open his mouth before I called
+to the subaltern who commanded the detachment, 'You should be
+ashamed to strike a child and a Christian like that, which cannot
+defend itself.'  The general told him the same thing.  Then the
+subaltern told us that the little child had just killed a lieutenant
+in the street by firing a revolver, which he showed us, and it was
+the biggest one I ever have seen, and must have been as heavy for
+that infant to lift as a small cannon.  It was unbelievable.
+
+"'And the other,' demanded the general; 'what has he done?'
+
+"'He is a dangerous student,' replied the subaltern, 'who has
+delivered himself up as a prisoner because he promised the landlord
+of the house where he lives that he would do it to keep the house
+from being battered down with cannon.'
+
+"'But that is right of him.  Why do you beat him?'
+
+"'Because he has told us he is a dangerous student.'
+
+"'That is no reason,' Feodor told him.  'He will be shot if he
+deserves it, and the child also, but I forbid you to beat him.  You
+have not been furnished with these whips in order to beat isolated
+prisoners, but to charge the crowd when it does not obey the
+governor's orders.  In such a case you are ordered "Charge," and
+you know what to do.  You understand?'  Feodor said roughly.  'I
+am General Trebassof, your governor.'
+
+"Feodor was thoroughly human in saying this.  Ah, well, he was badly
+ecompensed for it, very badly, I tell you.  The student was truly
+dangerous, because he had no sooner heard my husband say, 'I am
+General Trebassof, your governor,' than he cried, 'Ah, is it you,
+Trebassoff' and drew a revolver from no one knows where and fired
+straight at the general, almost against his breast.  But the general
+was not hit, happily, nor I either, who was by him and had thrown
+myself onto the student to disarm him and then was tossed about at
+the feet of the soldiers in the battle they waged around the student
+while the revolver was going off.  Three soldiers were killed.  You
+can understand that the others were furious.  They raised me with
+many excuses and, all together, set to kicking the student in the
+loins and striking at him as he lay on the ground.  The subaltern
+struck his face a blow that might have blinded him.  Feodor hit the
+officer in the head with his fist and called, 'Didn't you hear what
+I said?'  The officer fell under the blow and Feodor himself carried
+him to the sleigh and laid him with the dead men.  Then he took
+charge of the soldiers and led them to the barracks.  I followed,
+as a sort of after-guard.  We returned to the palace an hour later.
+It was quite dark by then, and almost at the entrance to the palace
+we were shot at by a group of revolutionaries who passed swiftly in
+two sleighs and disappeared in the darkness so fast that they could
+not be overtaken.  I had a ball in my toque.  The general had not
+been touched this time either, but our furs were ruined by the blood
+of the dead soldiers which they had forgotten to clean out of the
+sleigh.  That was the first attempt, which meant little enough,
+after all, because it was fighting in the open.  It was some days
+later that they commenced to try assassination."
+
+At this moment Ermolai brought in four bottles of champagne and
+Thaddeus struck lightly on the piano.
+
+"Quickly, madame, the second attempt," said Rouletabille, who was
+aking hasty notes on his cuff, never ceasing, meanwhile, to watch
+the convivial group and listening with both ears wide open to
+Matrena.
+
+"The second happened still in Moscow.  We had had a jolly dinner
+because we thought that at last the good old days were back and
+good citizens could live in peace; and Boris had tried out the guzla
+singing songs of the Orel country to please me; he is so fine and
+sympathetic.  Natacha had gone somewhere or other.  The sleigh was
+waiting at the door and we went out and got in.  Almost instantly
+there was a fearful noise, and we were thrown out into the snow,
+both the general and me.  There remained no trace of sleigh or
+coachman; the two horses were disemboweled, two magnificent piebald
+horses, my dear young monsieur, that the general was so attached to.
+As to Feodor, he had that serious wound in his right leg; the calf
+was shattered.  I simply had my shoulder a little wrenched,
+practically nothing.  The bomb had been placed under the seat of the
+unhappy coachman, whose hat alone we found, in a pool of blood.
+From that attack the general lay two months in bed.  In the second
+month they arrested two servants who were caught one night on the
+landing leading to the upper floor, where they had no business, and
+after that I sent at once for our old domestics in Orel to come and
+serve us.  It was discovered that these detected servants were in
+touch with the revolutionaries, so they were hanged.  The Emperor
+appointed a provisional governor, and now that the general was
+better we decided on a convalescence for him in the midi of France.
+We took train for St. Petersburg, but the journey started high fever
+in my husband and reopened the wound in his calf.  The doctors
+ordered absolute rest and so we settled here in the datcha des Iles.
+Since then, not a day has passed without the general receiving an
+anonymous letter telling him that nothing can save him from the
+revenge of the revolutionaries.  He is brave and only smiles over
+them, but for me, I know well that so long as we are in Russia we
+have not a moment's security.  So I watch him every minute and let
+no one approach him except his intimate friends and us of the family.
+I have brought an old gniagnia who watched me grow up, Ermolai, and
+the Orel servants.  In the meantime, two months later, the third
+attempt suddenly occurred.  It is certainly of them all the most
+frightening, because it is so mysterious, a mystery that has not
+yet, alas, been solved."
+
+But Athanase Georgevitch had told a "good story" which raised so
+much hubbub that nothing else could be heard.  Feodor Feodorovitch
+was so amused that he had tears in his eyes.  Rouletabille said to
+himself as Matrena talked, "I never have seen men so gay, and yet
+they know perfectly they are apt to be blown up all together any
+moment."
+
+General Trebassof, who had steadily watched Rouletabille, who, for
+that matter, had been kept in eye by everyone there, said:
+
+"Eh, eh, monsieur le journaliste, you find us very gay?"
+
+"I find you very brave," said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+"How is that?" said Feodor Feodorovitch, smiling.
+
+"You must pardon me for thinking of the things that you seem to
+have forgotten entirely."
+
+He indicated the general's wounded leg.
+
+"The chances of war! the chances of war!" said the general.  "A leg
+here, an arm there.  But, as you see, I am still here.  They will
+end by growing tired and leaving me in peace.  Your health, my
+friend!"
+
+"Your health, general!"
+
+"You understand," continued Feodor Feodorovitch, "there is no
+occasion to excite ourselves.  It is our business to defend the
+empire at the peril of our lives.  We find that quite natural, and
+there is no occasion to think of it.  I have had terrors enough in
+other directions, not to speak of the terrors of love, that are
+more ferocious than you can yet imagine.  Look at what they did to
+my poor friend the Chief of the Surete, Boichlikoff.  He was
+commendable certainly.  There was a brave man.  Of an evening, when
+his work was over, he always left the bureau of the prefecture and
+went to join his wife and children in their apartment in the ruelle
+des Loups.  Not a soldier!  No guard!  The others had every chance.
+One evening a score of revolutionaries, after having driven away
+the terrorized servants, mounted to his apartments.  He was dining
+with his family.  They knocked and he opened the door.  He saw who
+they were, and tried to speak.  They gave him no time.  Before his
+wife and children, mad with terror and on their knees before the
+revolutionaries, they read him his death-sentence.  A fine end that
+to a dinner!"
+
+As he listened Rouletabille paled and he kept his eyes on the door
+as if he expected to see it open of itself, giving access to
+ferocious Nihilists of whom one, with a paper in his hand, would
+read the sentence of death to Feodor Feodorovitch.  Rouletabille's
+stomach was not yet seasoned to such stories.  He almost regretted,
+momentarily, having taken the terrible responsibility of dismissing
+the police.  After what Koupriane had confided to him of things that
+had happened in this house, he had not hesitated to risk everything
+on that audacious decision, but all the same, all the same - these
+stories of Nihilists who appear at the end of a meal, death-sentence
+in hand, they haunted him, they upset him.  Certainly it had been
+a piece of foolhardiness to dismiss the police!
+
+"Well," he asked, conquering his misgivings and resuming, as always,
+his confidence in himself, "then, what did they do then, after
+reading the sentence?"
+
+"The Chief of the Surete knew he had no time to spare.  He did not
+ask for it.  The revolutionaries ordered him to bid his family
+farewell.  He raised his wife, his children, clasped them, bade
+them be of good courage, then said he was ready.  They took him
+into the street.  They stood him against a wall.  His wife and
+children watched from a window.  A volley sounded.  They descended
+to secure the body, pierced with twenty-five bullets."
+
+"That was exactly the number of wounds that were made on the body
+of little Jacques Zloriksky," came in the even tones of Natacha.
+
+"Oh, you, you always find an excuse," grumbled the general.  "Poor
+Boichlikoff did his duty, as I did mine.
+
+"Yes, papa, you acted like a soldier.  That is what the
+revolutionaries ought not to forget.  But have no fears for us,
+papa; because if they kill you we will all die with you."
+
+"And gayly too," declared Athanase Georgevitch.
+
+"They should come this evening.  We are in form!"
+
+Upon which Athanase filled the glasses again.
+
+"None the less, permit me to say," ventured the timber-merchant,
+Thaddeus Tchnitchnikof, timidly, "permit me to say that this
+Boichlikoff was very imprudent."
+
+"Yes, indeed, very gravely imprudent," agreed Rouletabille.  "When
+a man has had twenty-five good bullets shot into the body of a
+child, he ought certainly to keep his home well guarded if he
+wishes to dine in peace."
+
+He stammered a little toward the end of this, because it occurred
+to him that it was a little inconsistent to express such opinions,
+seeing what he had done with the guard over the general.
+
+"Ah," cried Athanase Georgevitch, in a stage-struck voice, "Ah, it
+was not imprudence!  It was contempt of death!  Yes, it was contempt
+of death that killed him!  Even as the contempt of death keeps us,
+at this moment, in perfect health.   To you, ladies and gentlemen!
+Do you know anything lovelier, grander, in the world than contempt
+of death?  Gaze on Feodor Feodorovitch and answer me.  Superb!  My
+word, superb!  To you all!  The revolutionaries who are not of the
+police are of the same mind regarding our heroes.  They may curse
+the tchinownicks who execute the terrible orders given them by
+those higher up, but those who are not of the police (there are
+some, I believe) - these surely recognize that men like the Chief
+of the Surete our dead friend, are brave."
+
+"Certainly," endorsed the general.  "Counting all things, they need
+more heroism for a promenade in a salon than a soldier on a
+battle-field."
+
+"I have met some of these men," continued Athanase in exalted vein.
+"I have found in all their homes the same - imprudence, as our young
+French friend calls it. A few days after the assassination of the
+Chief of Police in Moscow I was received by his successor in the
+same place where the assassination had occurred.  He did not take
+the slightest precaution with me, whom he did not know at all, nor
+with men of the middle class who came to present their petitions,
+in spite of the fact that it was under precisely identical
+conditions that his predecessor had been slain.  Before I left I
+looked over to where on the floor there had so recently occurred
+such agony.  They had placed a rug there and on the rug a table,
+and on that table there was a book.  Guess what book.  'Women's
+Stockings,' by Willy!  And - and then -  Your health, Matrena
+Petrovna.  What's the odds!"
+
+"You yourselves, my friends," declared the general, prove your great
+courage by coming to share the hours that remain of my life with me."
+
+"Not at all, not at all!  It is war."
+
+"Yes, it is war."
+
+"Oh, there's no occasion to pat us on the shoulder, Athanase,"
+insisted Thaddeus modestly.  "What risk do we run?  We are well
+guarded."
+
+"We are protected by the finger of God," declared Athanase, "because
+the police - well, I haven't any confidence in the police."
+
+Michael Korsakoff, who had been for a turn in the garden, entered
+during the remark.
+
+"Be happy, then, Athanase Georgevitch," said he, "for there are now
+no police around the villa."
+
+"Where are they?" inquired the timber-merchant uneasily.
+
+"An order came from Koupriane to remove them," explained Matrena
+Petrovna, who exerted herself to appear calm.
+
+"And are they not replaced?" asked Michael.
+
+"No.  It is incomprehensible.  There must have been some confusion
+in the orders given."  And Matrena reddened, for she loathed a lie
+and it was in tribulation of spirit that she used this fable under
+Rouletabille's directions.
+
+"Oh, well, all the better," said the general.  "It will give me
+pleasure to see my home ridded for a while of such people."
+
+Athanase was naturally of the same mind as the general, and when
+Thaddeus and Ivan Petrovitch and the orderlies offered to pass the
+night at the villa and take the place of the absent police, Feodor
+Feodorovitch caught a gesture from Rouletabille which disapproved
+the idea of this new guard.
+
+"No, no," cried the general emphatically.  "You leave at the usual
+time.  I want now to get back into the ordinary run of things, my
+word!  To live as everyone else does.  We shall be all right.
+Koupriane and I have arranged the matter.  Koupriane is less sure
+of his men, after all, than I am of my servants.  You understand
+me.  I do not need to explain further.  You will go home to bed
+- and we will all sleep.  Those are the orders.  Besides, you must
+remember that the guard-post is only a step from here, at the corner
+of the road, and we have only to give a signal to bring them all
+here.  But - more secret agents or special police - no, no!
+Good-night.  All of us to bed now!"
+
+They did not insist further.  When Feodor had said, "Those are the
+orders," there was room for nothing more, not even in the way of
+polite insistence.
+
+But before going to their beds all went into the veranda, where
+liqueurs were served by the brave Ermolai, as always.  Matrena
+pushed the wheel-chair of the general there, and he kept repeating,
+"No, no.  No more such people.  No more police.  They only bring
+trouble."
+
+"Feodor! Feodor!" sighed Matrena, whose anxiety deepened in spite
+of all she could do, "they watched over your dear life."
+
+"Life is dear to me only because of you, Matrena Petrovna."
+
+"And not at all because of me, papa?" said Natacha.
+
+"Oh, Natacha!"
+
+He took both her hands in his.  It was an affecting glimpse of
+family intimacy.
+
+From time to time, while Ermolai poured the liqueurs, Feodor struck
+his band on the coverings over his leg.
+
+"It gets better," said he.  "It gets better."
+
+Then melancholy showed in his rugged face, and he watched night
+deepen over the isles, the golden night of St. Petersburg.  It was
+not quite yet the time of year for what they call the golden nights
+there, the "white nights," nights which never deepen to darkness,
+but they were already beautiful in their soft clarity, caressed,
+here by the Gulf of Finland, almost at the same time by the last
+and the first rays of the sun, by twilight and dawn.
+
+From the height of the veranda one of the most beautiful bits of
+the isles lay in view, and the hour was so lovely that its charm
+thrilled these people, of whom several, as Thaddeus, were still
+close to nature.  It was he, first, who called to Natacha:
+
+"Natacha!  Natacha!  Sing us your 'Soir des Iles.'"
+
+Natacha's voice floated out upon the peace of the islands under the
+dim arched sky, light and clear as a night rose, and the guzla of
+Boris accompanied it.  Natacha sang:
+
+"This is the night of the Isles - at the north of the world.
+The sky presses in its stainless arms the bosom of earth,
+Night kisses the rose that dawn gave to the twilight.
+And the night air is sweet and fresh from across the shivering gulf,
+Like the breath of young girls from the world still farther north.
+Beneath the two lighted horizons, sinking and rising at once,
+The sun rolls rebounding from the gods at the north of the world.
+In this moment, beloved, when in the clear shadows of this
+  rose-stained evening I am here alone with you,
+Respond, respond with a heart less timid to the holy, accustomed
+  cry of 'Good-evening.'"
+
+Ah, how Boris Nikolaievitch and Michael Korsakoff watched her as
+she sang!  Truly, no one ever can guess the anger or the love that
+broods in a Slavic heart under a soldier's tunic, whether the
+soldier wisely plays at the guzla, as the correct Boris, or merely
+lounges, twirling his mustache with his manicured and perfumed
+fingers, like Michael, the indifferent.
+
+Natacha ceased singing, but all seemed to be listening to her still
+- the convivial group on the terrace appeared to be held in charmed
+attention, and the porcelain statuettes of men on the lawn,
+according to the mode of the Iles, seemed to lift on their short
+legs the better to hear pass the sighing harmony of Natacha in the
+rose nights at the north of the world.
+
+Meanwhile Matrena wandered through the house from cellar to attic,
+watching over her husband like a dog on guard, ready to bite, to
+throw itself in the way of danger, to receive the blows, to die
+for its master - and hunting for Rouletabille, who had disappeared
+again.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE WATCH
+
+She went out to caution the servants to a strict watch, armed to
+the teeth, before the gate all night long, and she crossed the
+deserted garden.  Under the veranda the schwitzar was spreading a
+mattress for Ermolai.  She asked him if he had seen the young
+Frenchman anywhere, and after the answer, could only say to herself,
+"Where is he, then?"  Where had Rouletabille gone?   The general,
+whom she had carried up to his room on her back, without any help,
+and had helped into bed without assistance, was disturbed by this
+singular disappearance.   Had someone already carried off "their"
+Rouletabille?   Their friends were gone and the orderlies had taken
+leave without being able to say where this boy of a journalist had
+gone.  But it would be foolish to worry about the disappearance of
+a Journalist, they had said.  That kind of man - these journalists
+- came, went, arrived when one least expected them, and quitted
+their company - even the highest society - without formality.  It
+was what they called in France "leaving English fashion."  However,
+it appeared it was not meant to be impolite.  Perhaps he had gone
+to telegraph.  A journalist had to keep in touch with the telegraph
+at all hours.  Poor Matrena Petrovna roamed the solitary garden in
+tumult of heart.  There was the light in the general's window on
+the first floor.  There were lights in the basement from the
+kitchens.  There was a light on the ground-floor near the
+sitting-room, from Natacha's chamber window.  Ah, the night was
+hard to bear.  And this night the shadows weighed heavier than ever
+on the valiant breast of Matrena.  As she breathed she felt as
+though she lifted all the weight of the threatening night.  She
+examined everything - everything.  All was shut tight, was perfectly
+secure, and there was no one within excepting people she was
+absolutely sure of - but whom, all the same, she did not allow to
+go anywhere in the house excepting where their work called them.
+Each in his place.  That made things surer.  She wished each one
+could remain fixed like the porcelain statues of men out on the
+lawn.  Even as she thought it, here at her feet, right at her very
+feet, a shadow of one of the porcelain men moved, stretched itself
+out, rose to its knees, grasped her skirt and spoke in the voice
+of Rouletabille.  Ah, good! it was Rouletabille.  "Himself, dear
+madame; himself."
+
+"Why is Ermolai in the veranda?  Send him back to the kitchens and
+tell the schwitzar to go to bed.  The servants are enough for an
+ordinary guard outside.  Then you go in at once, shut the door,
+and don't concern yourself about me, dear madame.  Good-night."
+
+Rouletabille had resumed, in the shadows, among the other porcelain
+figures, his pose of a porcelain man.
+
+Matrena Petrovna did as she was told, returned to the house, spoke
+to the schwitzar, who removed to the lodge with Ermolai, and their
+mistress closed the outside door.  She had closed long before the
+door of the kitchen stair which allowed the domestics to enter the
+villa from below.  Down there each night the devoted gniagnia and
+the faithful Ermolai watched in turn.
+
+Within the villa, now closed, there were on the ground-floor only
+Matrena herself and her step-daughter Natacha, who slept in the
+chamber off the sitting-room, and, above on the first floor, the
+general asleep, or who ought to be asleep if he had taken his
+potion.  Matrena remained in the darkness of the drawing-room,
+her dark-lantern in her hand.  All her nights passed thus, gliding
+from door to door, from chamber to chamber, watching over the watch
+of the police, not daring to stop her stealthy promenade even to
+throw herself on the mattress that she had placed across the
+doorway of her husband's chamber.  Did she ever sleep?  She herself
+could hardly say.  Who else could, then?  A tag of sleep here and
+there, over the arm of a chair, or leaning against the wall, waked
+always by some noise that she heard or dreamed, some warning,
+perhaps, that she alone had heard.  And to-night, to-night there is
+Rouletabille's alert guard to help her, and she feels a little less
+the aching terror of watchfulness, until there surges back into her
+mind the recollection that the police are no longer there.  Was he
+right, this young man?  Certainly she could not deny that some way
+she feels more confidence now that the police are gone.  She does
+not have to spend her time watching their shadows in the shadows,
+searching the darkness, the arm-chairs, the sofas, to rouse them,
+to appeal in low tones to all they held binding, by their own name
+and the name of their father, to promise them a bonus that would
+amount to something if they watched well, to count them in order to
+know where they all were, and, suddenly, to throw full in their
+face the ray of light from her little dark-lantern in order to be
+sure, absolutely sure, that she was face to face with them, one of
+the police, and not with some other, some other with an infernal
+machine under his arm.  Yes, she surely had less work now that she
+had no longer to watch the police.  And she had less fear!
+
+She thanked the young reporter for that.  Where was he?  Did he
+remain in the pose of a porcelain statue all this time out there
+on the lawn?  She peered through the lattice of the veranda shutters
+and looked anxiously out into the darkened garden.  Where could
+he be?  Was that he, down yonder, that crouching black heap with an
+unlighted pipe in his mouth?  No, no.  That, she knew well, was the
+dwarf she genuinely loved, her little domovoi-doukh, the familiar
+spirit of the house, who watched with her over the general's life
+and thanks to whom serious injury had not yet befallen Feodor
+Feodorovitch - one could not regard a mangled leg that seriously.
+Ordinarily in her own country (she was from the Orel district) one
+did not care to see the domovoi-doukh appear in flesh and blood.
+When she was little she was always afraid that she would come upon
+him around a turn of the path in her father's garden.  She always
+thought of him as no higher than that, seated back on his haunches
+and smoking his pipe.  Then, after she was married, she had suddenly
+run across him at a turning in the bazaar at Moscow.  He was just
+as she had imagined him, and she had immediately bought him, carried
+him home herself and placed him, with many precautions, for he was
+of very delicate porcelain, in the vestibule of the palace.  And in
+leaving Moscow she had been careful not to leave him there.  She
+had carried him herself in a case and had placed him herself on the
+lawn of the datcha des Iles, that he might continue to watch over
+her happiness and over the life of her Feodor.  And in order that
+he should not be bored, eternally smoking his pipe all alone, she
+had surrounded him with a group of little porcelain genii, after
+the fashion of the Jardins des Iles.  Lord! how that young Frenchman
+had frightened her, rising suddenly like that, without warning, on
+the lawn.  She had believed for a moment that it was the
+domovoi-doukh himself rising to stretch his legs.  Happily he had
+spoken at once and she had recognized his voice.  And besides, her
+domovoi surely would not speak French.  Ah! Matrena Petrovna
+breathed freely now.  It seemed to her, this night, that there were
+two little familiar genii watching over the house.  And that was
+worth more than all the police in the world, surely.  How wily that
+little fellow was to order all those men away.  There was something
+it was necessary to know; it was necessary therefore that nothing
+should be in the way of learning it.  As things were now, the
+mystery could operate without suspicion or interference.  Only one
+man watched it, and he had not the air of watching.  Certainly
+Rouletabille had not the air of constantly watching anything.  He
+had the manner, out in the night, of an easy little man in porcelain,
+neither more nor less, yet he could see everything - if anything
+were there to see - and he could hear everything - if there were
+anything to hear.  One passed beside him without suspecting him,
+and men might talk to each other without an idea that he heard
+them, and even talk to themselves according to the habit people
+have sometimes when they think themselves quite alone.  All the
+guests had departed thus, passing close by him, almost brushing
+him, had exchanged their "Adieus," their "Au revoirs," and all
+their final, drawn-out farewells.  That dear little living domovoi
+certainly was a rogue!  Oh, that dear little domovoi who had been
+so affected by the tears of Matrena Petrovna! The good, fat,
+sentimental, heroic woman longed to hear, just then, his
+reassuring voice.
+
+"It is I.  Here I am," said the voice of her little living familiar
+spirit at that instant, and she felt her skirt grasped.  She waited
+for what he should say.  She felt no fear.  Yet she had supposed he
+was outside the house.  Still, after all, she was not too astonished
+that he was within.  He was so adroit!  He had entered behind her,
+in the shadow of her skirts, on all-fours, and had slipped away
+without anyone noticing him, while she was speaking to her enormous,
+majestic schwitzar.
+
+"So you were here?" she said, taking his hand and pressing it
+nervously in hers.
+
+"Yes, yes.  I have watched you closing the house.  It is a task
+well-done, certainly.  You have not forgotten anything."
+
+"But where were you, dear little demon?  I have been into all the
+corners, and my hands did not touch you."
+
+"I was under the table set with hors-d'oeuvres in the sitting-room."
+
+"Ah, under the table of zakouskis!  I have forbidden them before
+now to spread a long hanging cloth there, which obliges me to kick
+my foot underneath casually in order to be sure there is no one
+beneath.  It is imprudent, very imprudent, such table-cloths.  And
+under the table of zakouskis have you been able to see or hear
+anything?"
+
+"Madame, do you think that anyone could possibly see or hear
+anything in the villa when you are watching it alone, when the
+general is asleep and your step-daughter is preparing for bed?"
+
+"No.  no.  I do not believe so.  I do not.  No, oh, Christ!"
+
+They talked thus very low in the dark, both seated in a corner of
+the sofa, Rouletabille's hand held tightly in the burning hands of
+Matrena Petrovna.
+
+She sighed anxiously.  "And in the garden - have you heard anything?"
+
+"I heard the officer Boris say to the officer Michael, in French,
+'Shall we return at once to the villa?'  The other replied in
+Russian in a way I could see was a refusal.  Then they had a
+discussion in Russian which I, naturally, could not understand.
+But from the way they talked I gathered that they disagreed and
+that no love was lost between them."
+
+"No, they do not love each other.  They both love Natacha."
+
+"And she, which one of them does she love?  It is necessary to tell
+me."
+
+"She pretends that she loves Boris, and I believe she does, and yet
+she is very friendly with Michael and often she goes into nooks and
+corners to chat with him, which makes Boris mad with jealousy.  She
+has forbidden Boris to speak to her father about their marriage, on
+the pretext that she does not wish to leave her father now, while
+each day, each minute the general's life is in danger."
+
+"And you, madame - do you love your step-daughter?" brutally
+inquired the reporter.
+
+"Yes - sincerely," replied Matrena Petrovna, withdrawing her hand
+from those of Rouletabille.
+
+"And she - does she love you?"
+
+"I believe so, monsieur, I believe so sincerely.  Yes, she loves me,
+and there is not any reason why she should not love me.  I believe
+- understand me thoroughly, because it comes from my heart - that
+we all here in this house love one another.  Our friends are old
+proved friends.  Boris has been orderly to my husband for a very
+long time.  We do not share any of his too-modern ideas, and there
+were many discussions on the duty of soldiers at the time of the
+massacres.  I reproached him with being as womanish as we were in
+going down on his knees to the general behind Natacha and me, when
+it became necessary to kill all those poor moujiks of Presnia.  It
+was not his role.  A soldier is a soldier.  My husband raised him
+roughly and ordered him, for his pains, to march at the head of the
+troops.  It was right.  What else could he do?  The general already
+had enough to fight against, with the whole revolution, with his
+conscience, with the natural pity in his heart of a brave man, and
+with the tears and insupportable moanings, at such a moment, of his
+daughter and his wife.  Boris understood and obeyed him, but, after
+the death of the poor students, he behaved again like a woman in
+composing those verses on the heroes of the barricades; don't you
+think so?  Verses that Natacha and he learned by heart, working
+together, when they were surprised at it by the general.  There
+was a terrible scene.  It was before the next-to-the-last attack.
+The general then had the use of both legs.  He stamped his feet and
+fairly shook the house."
+
+"Madame," said Rouletabille, "a propos of the attacks, you must
+tell me about the third."
+
+As he said this, leaning toward her, Matrena Petrovna ejaculated a
+"Listen!" that made him rigid in the night with ear alert.  What
+had she heard?  For him, he had heard nothing.
+
+"You hear nothing?" she whispered to him with an effort.  "A
+tick-tack?"
+
+"No, I hear nothing."
+
+"You know - like the tick-tack of a clock.  Listen."
+
+"How can you hear the tick-tack?  I've noticed that no clocks are
+running here."
+
+"Don't you understand?  It is so that we shall be able to hear the
+tick-tack better."
+
+"Oh, yes, I understand.  But I do not hear anything."
+
+"For myself, I think I hear the tick-tack all the time since the
+last attempt.  It haunts my ears, it is frightful, to say to one's
+self: There is clockwork somewhere, just about to reach the
+death-tick - and not to know where, not to know where!  When the
+police were here I made them all listen, and I was not sure even
+when they had all listened and said there was no tick-tack.  It is
+terrible to hear it in my ear any moment when I least expect it.
+Tick-tack!  Tick-tack!  It is the blood beating in my ear, for
+instance, hard, as if it struck on a sounding-board.  Why, here
+are drops of perspiration on my hands!  Listen!"
+
+"Ah, this time someone is talking - is crying," said the young man.
+
+"Sh-h-h!"  And Rouletabille felt the rigid hand of Matrena Petrovna
+on his arm.  "It is the general.  The general is dreaming!"
+
+She drew him into the dining-room, into a corner where they could
+no longer hear the moanings.  But all the doors that communicated
+with the dining-room, the drawing-room and the sitting-room
+remained open behind him, by the secret precaution of Rouletabille.
+
+He waited while Matrena, whose breath he heard come hard, was a
+little behind.  In a moment, quite talkative, and as though she
+wished to distract Rouletabille's attention from the sounds above,
+the broken words and sighs, she continued:
+
+"See, you speak of clocks.  My husband has a watch which strikes.
+Well, I have stopped his watch because more than once I have been
+startled by hearing the tick-tack of his watch in his
+waistcoat-pocket.  Koupriane gave me that advice one day when he
+was here and had pricked his ears at the noise of the pendulums,
+to stop all my watches and clocks so that there would be no chance
+of confusing them with the tick-tack that might come from an
+infernal machine planted in some corner.  He spoke from experience,
+my dear little monsieur, and it was by his order that all the clocks
+at the Ministry, on the Naberjnaia, were stopped, my dear little
+friend.  The Nihilists, he told me, often use clockworks to set off
+their machines at the time they decide on.  No one can guess all
+the inventions that they have, those brigands.  In the same way,
+Koupriane advised me to take away all the draught-boards from the
+fireplaces.  By that precaution they were enabled to avoid a
+terrible disaster at the Ministry near the Pont-des-chantres, you
+know, petit demovoi?  They saw a bomb just as it was being lowered
+into the fire-place of the minister's cabinet.*  The Nihilists held
+it by a cord and were up on the roof letting it down the chimney.
+One of them was caught, taken to Schlusselbourg and hanged.  Here
+you can see that all the draught-boards of the fireplaces are
+cleared away."
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+*Actual attack on Witte.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+
+"Madame," interrupted Rouletabille (Matrena Petrovna did not know
+that no one ever succeeded in distracting Rouletabille's attention),
+"madame, someone moans still, upstairs."
+
+"Oh, that is nothing, my little friend.  It is the general, who has
+bad nights.  He cannot sleep without a narcotic, and that gives him
+a fever.  I am going to tell you now how the third attack came about.
+And then you will understand, by the Virgin Mary, how it is I have
+yet, always have, the tick-tack in my ears.
+
+"One evening when the general had got to sleep and I was in my own
+room, I heard distinctly the tick-tack of clockwork operating.  All
+the clocks had been stopped, as Koupriane advised, and I had made
+an excuse to send Feodor's great watch to the repairer.  You can
+understand how I felt when I heard that tick-tack.  I was frenzied.
+I turned my head in all directions, and decided that the sound came
+from my husband's chamber.  I ran there.  He still slept, man that
+he is!  The tick-tack was there.  But where?  I turned here and
+there like a fool.  The chamber was in darkness and it seemed
+absolutely impossible for me to light a lamp because I thought I
+could not take the time for fear the infernal machine would go off
+in those few seconds.  I threw myself on the floor and listened
+under the bed.  The noise came from above.  But where?  I sprang to
+the fireplace, hoping that, against my orders, someone had started
+the mantel-clock.  No, it was not that!  It seemed to me now that
+the tick-tack came from the hed itself, that the machine was in the
+bed.  The general awaked just then and cried to me, 'What is it,
+Matrena?  What are you doing?'  And he raised himself in bed, while
+I cried, 'Listen!  Hear the tick-tack.  Don't you hear the
+tick-tack?'  I threw myself upon him and gathered him up in my arms
+to carry him, but I trembled too much, was too weak from fear, and
+fell back with him onto the bed, crying, 'Help!'  He thrust me away
+and said roughly, 'Listen.'  The frightful tick-tack was behind us
+now, on the table.  But there was nothing on the table, only the
+night-light, the glass with the potion in it, and a gold vase where
+I had placed with my own hands that morning a cluster of grasses
+and wild flowers that Ermolai had brought that morning on his return
+from the Orel country.  With one bound I was on the table and at
+the flowers.  I struck my fingers among the grasses and the flowers,
+and felt a resistance.  The tick-tack was in the bouquet!  I took
+the bouquet in both hands, opened the window and threw it as far
+as I could into the garden.  At the same moment the bomb burst with
+a terrible noise, giving me quite a deep wound in the hand.  Truly,
+my dear little domovoi, that day we had been very near death, but
+God and the Little Father watched over us."
+
+And Matrena Petrovna made the sign of the cross.
+
+"All the windows of the house were broken.  In all, we escaped with
+the fright and a visit from the glazier, my little friend, but I
+certainly believed that all was over."
+
+"And Mademoiselle Natacha?" inquired Rouletabille.  "She must also
+have been terribly frightened, because the whole house must have
+rocked."
+
+"Surely.  But Natacha was not here that night.  It was a Saturday.
+She had been invited to the soiree du 'Michel' by the parents of
+Boris Nikolaievitch, and she slept at their house, after supper at
+the Ours, as had been planned.  The next day, when she learned the
+danger the general had escaped, she trembled in every limb.  She
+threw herself in her father's arms, weeping, which was natural
+enough, and declared that she never would go away from him again.
+The general told her how I had managed.  Then she pressed me to
+her heart, saying that she never would forget such an action, and
+that she loved me more than if I were truly her mother.  It was all
+in vain that during the days following we sought to understand how
+the infernal machine had been placed in the bouquet of wild flowers.
+Only the general's friends that you saw this evening, Natacha and
+I had entered the general's chamber during the day or in the evening.
+No servant, no chamber-maid, had been on that floor.  In the
+day-time as well as all night long that entire floor is closed and
+I have the keys.  The door of the servants' staircase which opens
+onto that floor, directly into the general's chamber, is always
+locked and barred on the inside with iron.  Natacha and I do the
+chamber work.  There is no way of taking greater precautions.  Three
+police agents watched over us night and day.  The night of the
+bouquet two had spent their time watching around the house, and the
+third lay on the sofa in the veranda.  Then, too, we found all the
+doors and windows of the villa shut tight.  In such circumstances
+you can judge whether my anguish was not deeper than any I had known
+hitherto.  Because to whom, henceforth, could we trust ourselves?
+what and whom could we believe?  what and whom could we watch?
+From that day, no other person but Natacha and me have the right to
+go to the first floor.  The general's chamber was forbidden to his
+friends.  Anyway, the general improved, and soon had the pleasure
+of receiving them himself at his table.  I carry the general down
+and take him to his room again on my back.  I do not wish anyone
+to help.  I am strong enough for that.  I feel that I could carry
+him to the end of the world if that would save him.  Instead of
+three police, we had ten; five outside, five inside.  The days went
+well enough, but the nights were frightful, because the shadows of
+the police that I encountered always made me fear that I was face
+to face with the Nihilists.  One night I almost strangled one with
+my hand.  It was after that incident that we arranged with
+Koupriane that the agents who watched at night, inside, should stay
+placed in the veranda, after having, at the end of the evening,
+made complete examination of everything.  They were not to leave
+the veranda unless they heard a suspicious noise or I called to
+them.  And it was after that arrangement that the incident of the
+floor happened, that has puzzled so both Koupriane and me."
+
+"Pardon, madame," interrupted Rouletabille, "but the agents, during
+the examination of everything, never went to the bedroom floor?"
+
+"No, my child, there is only myself and Natacha, I repeat, who,
+since the bouquet, go there."
+
+"Well, madame, it is necessary to take me there at once."
+
+"At once!"
+
+"Yes, into the general's chamber."
+
+"But he is sleeping, my child.  Let me tell you exactly how the
+affair of the floor happened, and you  will know as much of it as
+I and as Koupriane."
+
+"To the general's chamber at once."
+
+She took both his hands and pressed them nervously.  "Little friend!
+Little friend!  One hears there sometimes things which are the
+secret of the night!  You understand me?"
+
+"To the general's chamber, at once, madame."
+
+Abruptly she decided to take him there, agitated, upset as she was
+by ideas and sentiments which held her without respite between the
+wildest inquietude and the most imprudent audacity.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+"THE YOUTH OF MOSCOW IS DEAD"
+
+Rouletabille let himself be led by Matrena through the night, but
+he stumbled and his awkward hands struck against various things.
+The ascent to the first floor was accomplished in profound silence.
+Nothing broke it except that restless moaning which had so affected
+the young man just before.
+
+The tepid warmth, the perfume of a woman's boudoir, then, beyond,
+through two doors opening upon the dressing-room which lay between
+Matrena's chamber and Feodor's, the dim luster of a night-lamp
+showed the bed where was stretched the sleeping tyrant of Moscow.
+Ah, he was frightening to see, with the play of faint yellow light
+and diffused shadows upon him.  Such heavy-arched eyebrows, such
+an aspect of pain and menace, the massive jaw of a savage come from
+the plains of Tartary to be the Scourge of God, the stiff, thick,
+spreading beard.  This was a form akin to the gallery of old nobles
+at Kasan, and young Rouletabille imagined him as none other than
+Ivan the Terrible himself.  Thus appeared as he slept the excellent
+Feodor Feodorovitch, the easy, spoiled father of the family table,
+the friend of the advocate celebrated for his feats with knife and
+fork and of the bantering timber-merchant and amiable bear-hunter,
+the joyous Thaddeus and Athanase; Feodor, the faithful spouse of
+Matrena Petrovna and the adored papa of Natacha, a brave man who
+was so unfortunate as to have nights of cruel sleeplessness or
+dreams more frightful still.
+
+At that moment a hoarse sigh heaved his huge chest in an uneven
+rhythm, and Rouletabille, leaning in the doorway of the
+dressing-room, watched - but it was no longer the general that he
+watched, it was something else, lower down, beside the wall, near
+the door, and it was that which set him tiptoeing so lightly across
+the floor that it gave no sound.  There was no slightest sound in
+the chamber, except the heavy breathing lifting the rough chest.
+Behind Rouletabille Matrena raised her arms, as though she wished
+to hold him back, because she did not know where he was going.
+What was he doing?   Why did he stoop thus beside the door and why
+did he press his thumb all along the floor at the doorway?  He rose
+again and returned.  He passed again before the bed, where rumbled
+now, like the bellows of a forge, the respiration of the sleeper.
+Matrena grasped Rouletabille by the hand.  And she had already
+hurried him into the dressing-room when a moan stopped them.
+
+"The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+It was the sleeper speaking.  The mouth which had given the
+stringent orders moaned.  And the lamentation was still a menace.
+In the haunted sleep thrust upon that man by the inadequate narcotic
+the words Feodor Feodorovitch spoke were words of mourning and pity.
+This perfect fiend of a soldier, whom neither bullets nor bombs
+could intimidate, had a way of saying words which transformed their
+meaning as they came from his terrible mouth.  The listeners could
+not but feel absorbed in the tones of the brutal victor.
+
+Matrena Petrovna and Rouletabille had leant their two shadows,
+blended one into the other, against the open doorway just beyond
+the gleam of the night-lamp, and they heard with horror:
+
+"The youth of Moscow is dead!   They have cleared
+away the corpses.  There is nothing but ruin left.  The Kremlin
+itself has shut its gates - that it may not see.  The youth of
+Moscow is dead!"
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch's fist shook above his bed; it seemed that he
+was about to strike, to kill again, and Rouletabille felt Matrena
+trembling against him, while he trembled as well before the
+fearful vision of the killer in the Red Week!
+
+Feodor heaved an immense sigh and his breast descended under the
+bed-clothes, the fist relaxed and fell, the great head lay over on
+its ear.  There was silence.  Had he repose at last?  No, no.  He
+sighed, he choked anew, he tossed on his couch like the damned in
+torment, and the words written by his daughter - by his daughter
+- blazed in his eyes, which now were wide open - words written on
+the wall, that he read on the wall, written in blood.
+
+  "The youth of Moscow is dead!  They had gone so young into the
+     fields and into the mines,
+  And they had not found a single corner of the Russian land where
+     there were not moanings.
+  Now the youth of Moscow is dead and no more moanings are heard,
+  Because those for whom all youth died do not dare even to moan
+     any more.
+
+But - what?  The voice of Feodor lost its threatening tone.  His
+breath came as from a weeping child.  And it was with sobs in his
+throat that he said the last verse, the verse written by his
+daughter in the album, in red letters:
+
+  "The last barricade had standing there the girl of eighteen
+     winters, the virgin of Moscow, flower of the snow.
+  Who gave her kisses to the workmen struck by the bullets
+     from the soldiers of the Czar;
+  "She aroused the admiration of the very soldiers who, weeping,
+     killed her:
+  "What killing!  All the houses shuttered, the windows with heavy
+     eyelids of plank in order not to see! -
+  "And the Kremlin itself has closed its gates - that it may
+     not see.
+  "The youth of Moscow is dead!"
+
+"Feodor!  Feodor!"
+
+She had caught him in her arms, holding him fast, comforting him
+while still he raved, "The youth of Moscow is dead," and appeared
+to thrust away with insensate gestures a crowd of phantoms.  She
+crushed him to her breast, she put her hands over his mouth to make
+him stop, but he, saying, "Do you hear?  Do you hear?  What do they
+say?  They say nothing, now.  What a tangle of bodies under the
+sleigh, Matrena!  Look at those frozen legs of those poor girls we
+pass, sticking out in all directions, like logs, from under their
+icy, blooded skirts.  Look, Matrena!"
+
+And then came further delirium uttered in Russian, which was all the
+more terrible to Rouletabille because he could not comprehend it.
+
+Then, suddenly, Feodor became silent and thrust away Matrena
+Petrovna.
+
+"It is that abominable narcotic," he said with an immense sigh.
+"I'll drink no more of it.  I do not wish to drink it."
+
+With one hand he pointed to a large glass on the table beside him,
+still half full of a soporific mixture with which he moistened his
+lips each time he woke; with the other hand he wiped the perspiration
+from his face.  Matrena Petrovna stayed trembling near him, suddenly
+overpowered by the idea that he might discover there was someone
+there behind the door, who had seen and heard the sleep of General
+Trebassof!  Ah, if he learned that, everything was over.  She might
+say her prayers; she should die.
+
+But Rouletabille was careful to give no sign.  He barely breathed.
+What a nightmare!  He understood now the emotion of the general's
+friends when Natacha had sung in her low, sweet voice, "Good-night.
+May your eyes have rest from tears and calm re-enter your heart
+oppressed." The friends had certainly been made aware, by Matrena's
+anxious talking, of the general's insomnia, and they could not
+repress their tears as they listened to the poetic wish of charming
+Natacha.  "All the same," thought Rouletabille, "no one could
+imagine what I have just seen.  They are not dead for everyone in
+the world, the youths of Moscow, and every night I know now a
+chamber where in the glow of the night-lamp they rise - they rise
+- they rise!" and the young man frankly, naively regretted to have
+intruded where he was; to have penetrated, however unintentionally,
+into an affair which, after all, concerned only the many dead and
+the one living.  Why had he come to put himself between the dead and
+the living?  It might be said to him: "The living has done his whole
+heroic duty," but the dead, what else was it that they had done?
+
+Ah, Rouletabille cursed his curiosity, for - he saw it now - it was
+the desire to approach the mystery revealed by Koupriane and to
+penetrate once more, through all the besetting dangers, an astounding
+and perhaps monstrous enigma, that had brought him to the threshold
+of the datcha des Iles, which had placed him in the trembling hands
+of Matrena Petrovna in promising her his help.  He had shown pity,
+certainly, pity for the delirious distress of that heroic woman.
+But there had been more curiosity than pity in his motives.  And
+now he must pay, because it was too late now to withdraw, to say
+casually, "I wash my hands of it."  He had sent away the police and
+he alone remained between the general and the vengeance of the dead!
+He might desert, perhaps!  That one idea brought him to himself,
+roused all his spirit.  Circumstances had brought him into a camp
+that he must defend at any cost, unless he was afraid!
+
+The general slept now, or, at least, with eyelids closed simulated
+sleep, doubtless in order to reassure poor Matrena who, on her knees
+beside his pillow, had retained the hand of her terrible husband in
+her own.  Shortly she rose and rejoined Rouletabille in her chamber.
+She took him then to a little guest-chamber where she urged him to
+get some sleep.  He replied that it was she who needed rest.  But,
+agitated still by what had just happened, she babbled:
+
+"No, no!  after such a scene I would have nightmares myself as well.
+Ah, it is dreadful!  Appalling!  Appalling!  Dear little monsieur,
+it is the secret of the night.  The poor man!  Poor unhappy man!
+He cannot tear his thoughts away from it.  It is his worst and
+unmerited punishment, this translation that Natacha has made of
+Boris's abominable verses.  He knows them by heart, they are in his
+brain and on his tongue all night long, in spite of narcotics, and
+he says over and over again all the time, 'It is my daughter who
+has written that!  - my daughter!  - my daughter!'  It is enough
+to wring all the tears from one's body - that an aide-de-camp of a
+general, who himself has killed the youth of Moscow, is allowed to
+write such verses and that Natacha should take it upon herself to
+translate them into lovely poetic French for her album.  It is hard
+to account for what they do nowadays, to our misery."
+
+She ceased, for just then they heard the floor creak under a step
+downstairs.  Rouletabille stopped Matrena short and drew his
+revolver.  He wished to creep down alone, but he had not time.  As
+the floor creaked a second time, Matrena's anguished voice called
+down the staircase in Russian, "Who is there?" and immediately the
+calm voice of Natacha answered something in the same language.
+Then Matrena, trembling more and more, and very much excited
+keeping steadily to the same place as though she had been nailed
+to the step of the stairway, said in French, "Yes, all is well;
+your father is resting.  Good-night, Natacha."  They heard Natacha's
+step cross the drawing-room and the sitting-room.  Then the door of
+her chamber closed.  Matrena and Rouletabille descended, holding
+their breath.  They reached the dining-room and Matrena played her
+dark-lantern on the sofa where the general always reclined.  The
+sofa was in its usual place on the carpet.  She pushed it back and
+raised the carpet, laying the floor bare.  Then she got onto her
+knees and examined the floor minutely.  She rose, wiping the
+perspiration from her brow, put the carpet hack in place, adjusted
+the sofa and dropped upon it with a great sigh.
+
+"Well?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Nothing at all," said she.
+
+"Why did you call so openly?"
+
+"Because there was no doubt that it could only be my step-daughter
+on the ground-floor at that hour."
+
+"And why this anxiety to examine the floor again?"
+
+"I entreat you, my dear little child, do not see in my acts anything
+mysterious, anything hard to explain.  That anxiety you speak of
+never leaves me.  Whenever I have the chance I examine the flooring."
+
+"Madame," demanded the young man, "what was your daughter doing in
+this room?"
+
+"She came for a glass of mineral water; the bottle is still on the
+table."
+
+"Madame, it is necessary that you tell me precisely what Koupriane
+has only hinted to me, unless I am entirely mistaken.  The first
+time that you thought to examine the floor, was it after you heard
+a noise on the ground-floor such as has just happened?"
+
+"Yes.  I will tell you all that is necessary.  It was the night
+after the attempt with the bouquet, my dear little monsieur, my
+dear little domovoi; it seemed to me I heard a noise on the
+ground-floor.  I hurried downstairs and saw nothing suspicious at
+first.  Everything was shut tight.  I opened the door of Natacha's
+chamber softly.  I wished to ask her if she had heard anything.
+But she was so fast asleep that I had not the heart to awaken her.
+I opened the door of the veranda, and all the police - all, you
+understand - slept soundly.  I took another turn around the
+furniture, and, with my lantern in my hand, I was just going out
+of the dining-room when I noticed that the carpet on the floor was
+disarranged at one corner.  I got down and my hand struck a great
+fold of carpet near the general's sofa.  You would have said that
+the sofa had been rolled carelessly, trying to replace it in the
+position it usually occupied.  Prompted by a sinister presentiment,
+I pushed away the sofa and I lifted the carpet.  At first glance I
+saw nothing, but when I examined things closer I saw that a strip
+of wood did not lie well with the others on the floor.  With a
+knife I was able to lift that strip and I found that two nails
+which had fastened it to the beam below had been freshly pulled out.
+It was just so I could raise the end of the board a little without
+being able to slip my hand under.  To lift it any more it would be
+necessary to pull at least half-a-dozen nails.  What could it mean?
+Was I on the point of discovering some new terrible and mysterious
+plan?  I let the board fall back into place.  I spread the carpet
+back again carefully, put the sofa in its place, and in the morning
+sent for Koupriane."
+
+Rouletabille interrupted.
+
+"You had not, madame, spoken to anyone of this discovery?"
+
+"To no one."
+
+"Not even to your step-daughter?"
+
+"No," said the husky voice of Matrena, "not even to my step-daughter."
+
+"Why?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Because," replied Matrena, after a moment's hesitation, "there were
+already enough frightening things about the house.  I would not have
+spoken to my daughter any more than I would have said a word to the
+general.  Why add to the disquiet they already .suffered so much,
+in case nothing developed?"
+
+"And what did Koupriane say?"
+
+"We examined the, floor together, secretly.  Koupriane slipped his
+hand under more easily than I had done, and ascertained that under
+the board, that is to say between the beam and the ceiling of the
+kitchen, there was a hollow where any number of things might be
+placed.  For the moment the board was still too little released for
+any maneuver to be possible.  Koupriane, when he rose, said to me,
+'You have happened, madame, to interrupt the person in her
+operations.  But we are prepared henceforth.  We know what she does
+and she is unaware that we know.  Act as though you had not noticed
+anything; do not speak of it to anyone whatever - and watch.  Let
+the general continue to sit in his usual place and let no one
+suspect that we have discovered the beginnings of this attempt.  It
+is the only way we can plan so that they will continue.  All the
+same,' he added, 'I will give my agents orders to patrol the
+ground-floor anew during the night.  I would be risking too much to
+let the person continue her work each night.  She might continue it
+so well that she would be able to accomplish it - you understand
+me?  But by day you arrange that the rooms on the ground-floor be
+free from time to time - not for long, but from time to time.' I
+don't know why, but what he said and the way he said it frightened
+me more than ever.  However, I carried out his program.  Then, three
+days later, about eight o'clock, when the night watch was not yet
+started, that is to say at the moment when the police were still
+all out in the garden or walking around the house, outside, and when
+I had left the the ground-floor perfectly free while I helped the
+general to bed, I felt drawn even against myself suddenly to the
+dining-room.  I lifted the carpet and examined the floor.  Three
+more nails had been drawn from the board, which lifted more easily
+now, and under it, I could see that the normal cavity had been made
+wider still!"
+
+When she had said this, Matrena stopped, as if, overcome, she could
+not tell more.
+
+"Well?" insisted Rouletabille.
+
+"Well, I replaced things as I found them and made rapid inquiries
+of the police and their chief; no one had entered the ground-floor.
+You understand me? - no one at all.  Neither had anyone come out
+from it."
+
+"How could anyone come out if no one had entered?"
+
+"I wish to say," said she with a sob, "that Natacha during this
+space of time had been in her chamber, in her chamber on the
+ground-floor."
+
+"You appear to be very disturbed, madame, at this recollection.
+Can you tell me further, and precisely, why you are agitated?"
+
+"You understand me, surely," she said, shaking her head.
+
+"If I understand you correctly, I have to understand that from the
+previous time you examined the floor until the time that you noted
+three more nails drawn out, no other person could have entered the
+dining-room but you and your step-daughter Natacha."
+
+Matrena took Rouletabille's hand as though she had reached an
+important decision.
+
+"My little friend," moaned she, "there are things I am not able to
+think about and which I can no longer entertain when Natacha embraces
+me.  It is a mystery more frightful than all else.  Koupriane tells
+me that he is sure, absolutely sure, of the agents he kept here; my
+sole consolation, do you see, my little friend can tell you frankly,
+now that you have sent away those men - my sole consolation since
+that day has been that Koupriane is less sure of his men than I am
+of Natacha."
+
+She broke down and sobbed.
+
+When she was calmed, she looked for Rouletabille, and could not
+find him.  Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her dark-lantern,
+and, furtively, crept to her post beside the general.
+
+For that day these are the points in Rouletabille's notebook:
+
+"Topography: Villa surrounded by a large garden on three sides.
+The fourth side gives directly onto a wooded field that stretches
+to the river Neva.  On this side the level of the ground is much
+lower, so low that the sole window opening in that wall (the window
+of Natacha's sitting-room on the ground-floor) is as high from the
+ground as though it were on the next floor in any other part of the
+house.  This window is closed by iron shutters, fastened inside by
+a bar of iron.
+
+"Friends: Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch, Thaddeus the
+timber-merchant (peat boots), Michael and Boris (fine shoes).
+Matrena, sincere love, blundering heroism.  Natacha unknown. Against
+Natacha:  Never there during the attacks.  At Moscow at the time of
+the bomb in the sleigh, no one knows where she was, and it is she
+who should have accompanied the general (detail furnished by
+Koupriane that Matrena generously kept back).  The night of the
+bouquet is the only night Natacha has slept away from the house.
+Coincidence of the disappearance of the nails and the presence all
+alone on the ground-floor of Natacha, in case, of course, Matrena
+did not pull them out herself.  For Natacha: Her eyes when she looks
+at her father."
+
+And this bizarre phrase:
+
+"We mustn't be rash.  This evening I have not yet spoken to Matrena
+Petrovna about the little hat-pin.  That little hat-pin is the
+greatest relief of my life."
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+BY ROULETABILLE'S ORDER THE GENERAL PROMENADES
+
+"Good morning, my dear little familiar spirit.  The general slept
+splendidly the latter part of the night.  He did not touch his
+narcotic.   I am sure it is that dreadful mixture that gives him
+such frightful dreams.  And you, my dear little friend, you have
+not slept an instant.  I know it.  I felt you going everywhere
+about the house like a little mouse.  Ah, it seems good, so good.
+I slept so peacefully, hearing the subdued movement of your little
+steps.  Thanks for the sleep you have given me, little friend."
+
+Matrena talked on to Rouletabille, whom she had found the morning
+after the nightmare tranquilly smoking his pipe in the garden.
+
+"Ah, ah, you smoke a pipe.  Now you do certainly look exactly like
+a dear little domovoi-doukh.  See how much you are alike.  He
+smokes just like you.  Nothing new, eh?  You do not look very bright
+this morning.  You are worn out.  I have just arranged the little
+guest-chamber for you, the only one we have, just behind mine.
+Your bed is waiting for you.  Is there anything you need?  Tell me.
+Everything here is at your service."
+
+"I'm not in need of anything, madame," said the young man smilingly,
+after this outpouring of words from the good, heroic dame.
+
+"How can you say that, dear child?   You will make yourself sick.
+I want you to understand that I wish you to rest.  I want to be a
+mother to you, if you please, and you must obey me, my child.  Have
+you had breakfast yet this morning?  If you do not have breakfast
+promptly mornings, I will think you are annoyed.  I am so annoyed
+that you have heard the secret of the night.  I have been afraid
+that you would want to leave at once and for good, and that you
+would have mistaken ideas about the general.  There is not a
+better man in the world than Feodor, and he must have a good, a
+very good conscience to dare, without fail, to perform such terrible
+duties as those at Moscow, when he is so good at heart.  These
+things are easy enough for wicked people, but for good men, for
+good men who can reason it out, who know what they do and that they
+are condemned to death into the bargain, it is terrible, it is
+terrible!  Why, I told him the moment things began to go wrong in
+Moscow, 'You know what to expect, Feodor.  Here is a dreadful time
+to get through - make out you are sick.'  I believed he was going
+to strike me, to kill me on the spot.  'I!  Betray the Emperor in
+such a moment!  His Majesty, to whom I owe everything!  What are
+you thinking of, Matrena Petrovna!'  And he did not speak to me
+after that for two days.  It was only when he saw I was growing
+very ill that he pardoned me, but he had to be plagued with my
+jeremiads and the appealing looks of Natacha without end in his
+own home each time we heard any shooting in the street.  Natacha
+attended the lectures of the Faculty, you know.  And she knew many
+of them, and even some of those who were being killed on the
+barricades.  Ah, life was not easy for him in his own home, the
+poor general!  Besides, there was also Boris, whom I love as well,
+for that matter, as my own child, because I shall be very happy to
+see him married to Natacha - there was poor Boris who always came
+home from the attacks paler than a corpse and who could not keep
+from moaning with us."
+
+"And Michael?" questioned Rouletabille.
+
+"Oh, Michael only came towards the last.  He is a new orderly to
+the general.  The government at St. Petersburg sent him, because
+of course they couldn't help learning that Boris rather lacked zeal
+in repressing the students and did not encourage the general in
+being as severe as was necessary for the safety of the Empire.  But
+Michael, he has a heart of stone; he knows nothing but the
+countersign and massacres fathers and mothers, crying, 'Vive le
+Tsar!'  Truly, it seems his heart can only be touched by the sight
+of Natacha.  And that again has caused a good deal of anxiety to
+Feodor and me.  It has caught us in a useless complication that we
+would have liked to end by the prompt marriage of Natacha and Boris.
+But Natacha, to our great surprise, has not wished it to be so.  No,
+she has not wished it, saying that there is always time to think of
+her wedding and that she is in no hurry to leave us.  Meantime she
+entertains herself with this Michael as if she did not fear his
+passion, and neither has Michael the desperate air of a man who
+knows the definite engagement of Natacha and Boris.  And my
+step-daughter is not a coquette.  No, no.  No one can say she is a
+coquette.  At least, no one had been able to say it up to the time
+that Michael arrived.  Can it be that she is a coquette?  They are
+mysterious, these young girls, very mysterious, above all when they
+have that calm and tranquil look that Natacha always has; a face,
+monsieur, as you have noticed perhaps, whose beauty is rather
+passive whatever one says and does, excepting when the volleys in
+the streets kill her young comrades of the schools.  Then I have
+seen her almost faint, which proves she has a great heart under
+her tranquil beauty.  Poor Natacha!  I have seen her excited as I
+over the life of her father.  My little friend, I have seen her
+searching in the middle of the night, with me, for infernal
+machines under the furniture, and then she has expressed the
+opinion that it is nervous, childish, unworthy of us to act like
+that, like timid beasts under the sofas, and she has left me to
+search by myself.  True, she never quits the general.  She is more
+reassured, and is reassuring to him, at his side.  It has an
+excellent moral effect on him, while I walk about and search like
+a beast.  And she has become as fatalistic as he, and now she sings
+verses to the guzla, like Boris, or talks in corners with Michael,
+which makes the two enraged each with the other.  They are curious,
+the young women of St. Petersburg and Moscow, very curious.  We
+were not like that in our time, at Orel.  We did not try to enrage
+people.  We would have received a box on the ears if we had."
+
+Natacha came in upon this conversation, happy, in white voile,
+fresh and smiling like a girl who had passed an excellent night.
+She asked after the health of the young man very prettily and
+embraced Matrena, in truth as one embraces a much-beloved mother.
+She complained again of Matrena's night-watch.
+
+"You have not stopped it, mamma; you have not stopped it, eh?  You
+are not going to be a little reasonable at last?  I beg of you!
+What has given me such a mother!  Why don't you sleep?  Night is
+made for sleep.  Koupriane has upset you.  All the terrible things
+are over in Moscow.  There is no occasion to think of them any more.
+That Koupriane makes himself important with his police-agents and
+obsesses us all.  I am convinced that the affair of the bouquet
+was the work of his police."
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Rouletabille, "I have just had them all sent
+away, all of them - because I think very much the same as you do."
+
+"Well, then, you will be my friend, Monsieur Rouletabille I promise
+you, since you have done that.  Now that the police are gone we
+have nothing more to fear.  Nothing.  I tell you, mamma; you can
+believe me and not weep any more, mamma dear."
+
+"Yes, yes; kiss me.  Kiss me again!" repeated Matrena, drying her
+eyes.  "When you kiss me I forget everything.  You love me like
+your own mother, don't you?"
+
+"Like my mother.  Like my own mother."
+
+"You have nothing to hide from me?  - tell me, Natacha."
+
+"Nothing to hide."
+
+"Then why do you make Boris suffer so?  Why don't you marry him?"
+
+"Because I don't wish to leave you, mamma dear."
+
+She escaped further parley by jumping up on the garden edge away
+from Khor, who had just been set free for the day.
+
+"The dear child," said Matrena; "the dear little one, she little
+knows how much pain she has caused us without being aware of it,
+by her ideas, her extravagant ideas.  Her father said to me one
+day at Moscow, 'Matrena Petrovna, I'll tell you what I think
+- Natacha is the victim of the wicked books that have turned the
+brains of all these poor rebellious students.  Yes, yes; it would
+be better for her and for us if she did not know how to read, for
+there are moments - my word!  - when she talks very wildly, and
+I have said to myself more than once that with such ideas her place
+is not in our salon hut behind a barricade.  All the same,' he
+added after reflection, 'I prefer to find her in the salon where I
+can embrace her than behind a barricade where I would kill her like
+a mad dog.'  But my husband, dear little monsieur, did not say what
+he really thinks, for he loves his daughter more than all the rest
+of the world put together, and there are things that even a general,
+yes, even a governor-general, would not be able to do without
+violating both divine and human laws.  He suspects Boris also of
+setting Natacha's wits awry.  We really have to consider that when
+they are married they will read everything they have a mind to.  My
+husband has much more real respect for Michael Korsakoff because of
+his impregnable character and his granite conscience.  More than
+once he has said, 'Here is the aide I should have had in the worst
+days of Moscow.  He would have spared me much of the individual
+pain.'  I can understand how that would please the general, but how
+such a tigerish nature succeeds in appealing to Natacha, how it
+succeeds in not actually revolting her, these young girls of the
+capital, one never can tell about them - they get away from all
+your notions of them."
+
+Rouletabille inquired:
+
+"Why did Boris say to Michael, 'We will return together'?  Do they
+live together?"
+
+"Yes, in the small villa on the Krestowsky Ostrov, the isle across
+from ours, that you can see from the window of the sitting-room.
+Boris chose it because of that.  The orderlies wished to have
+camp-beds prepared for them right here in the general's house, by
+a natural devotion to him; but I opposed it, in order to keep them
+both from Natacha, in whom, of course, I have the most complete
+confidence, but one cannot be sure about the extravagance of men
+nowadays."
+
+Ermolai came to announce the petit-dejeuner.  They found Natacha
+already at table and she poured them coffee and milk, eating away
+all the time at a sandwich of anchovies and caviare.
+
+"Tell me, mamma, do you know what gives me such an appetite?  It
+is the thought of the way poor Koupriane must have taken this
+dismissal of his men.  I should like to go to see him."
+
+"If you see him," said Rouletabille, "it is unnecessary to tell him
+that the general will go for a long promenade among the isles this
+afternoon, because without fail he would send us an escort of
+gendarmes."
+
+"Papa!  A promenade among the islands?  Truly?  Oh, that is going
+to be lovely!"
+
+Matrena Petrovna sprang to her feet.
+
+"Are you mad, my dear little domovoi, actually mad?"
+
+"Why?  Why?  It is fine.  I must run and tell papa."
+
+"Your father's room is locked," said Matrena brusquely.
+
+"Yes, yes; he is locked in.  You have the key.  Locked away until
+death!  You will kill him.  It will be you who kills him."
+
+She left the table without waiting for a reply and went and shut
+herself also in her chamber.
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille, who continued his breakfast as
+though nothing had happened.
+
+"Is it possible that you speak seriously?" she demanded, coming
+over and sitting down beside him.  "A promenade!  Without the
+police, when we have received again this morning a letter saying
+now that before forty-eight hours the general will be dead!"
+
+"Forty-eight hours," said Rouletabille, soaking his bread in his
+chocolate, "forty-eight hours?  It is possible.  In any case, I
+know they will try something very soon."
+
+"My God, how is it that you believe that?  You speak with assurance."
+
+"Madame, it is necessary to do everything I tell you, to the letter."
+
+"But to have the general go out, unless he is guarded - how can you
+take such a responsibility?  When I think about it, when I really
+think about it, I ask myself how you have dared send away the police.
+But here, at least, I know what to do in order to feel a little safe,
+I know that downstairs with Gniagnia and Ermolai we have nothing to
+fear.  No stranger can approach even the basement.  The provisions
+are brought from the lodge by our dvornicks whom we have had sent
+from my mother's home in the Orel country and who are as devoted to
+us as bull-dogs.  Not a bottle of preserves is taken into the
+kitchens without having been previously opened outside.  No package
+comes from any tradesman without being opened in the lodge.  Here,
+within, we are able to feel a little safe, even without the police
+- but away from here - outside!"
+
+"Madame, they are going to try to kill your husband within
+forty-eight hours.  Do you desire me to save him perhaps for a long
+time - for good, perhaps?"
+
+"Ah, listen to him!  Listen to him, the dear little domovoi!  But
+what will Koupriane say?  He will not permit any venturing beyond
+the villa; none, at least for the moment.  Ah, now, how he looks at
+me, the dear little domovoi!  Oh, well, yes.  There, I will do as
+you wish."
+
+"Very well, come into the garden with me."
+
+She accompanied him, leaning on his arm.
+
+"Here's the idea," said Rouletabille.  "This afternoon you will go
+with the general in his rolling-chair.  Everybody will follow.
+Everyone, you understand, Madame - understand me thoroughly, I mean
+to say that everyone who wishes to come must be invited to.  Only
+those who wish to remain behind will do so.  And do not insist.  Ah,
+now, I see, you understand me.  Why do you tremble?"
+
+"But who will guard the house?"
+
+"No one.  Simply tell the servant at the lodge to watch from the
+lodge those who enter the villa, but simply from the lodge, without
+interfering with them, and saying nothing to them, nothing."
+
+"I will do as you wish.  Do you want me to announce our promenade
+beforehand?"
+
+"Why, certainly.  Don't be uneasy; let everybody have the good news."
+
+"Oh, I will tell only the general and his friends, you may be sure."
+
+"Now, dear Madame, just one more word.  Do not wait for me at
+luncheon."
+
+"What!  You are going to leave us?" she cried instantly, breathless.
+"No, no.  I do not wish it.  I am willing to do without the police,
+but I am not willing to do without you.  Everything might happen in
+your absence.  Everything!  Everything!" she repeated with singular
+energy.  "Because, for me, I cannot feel sure as I should, perhaps.
+Ah, you make me say these things.  Such things!  But do not go."
+
+"Do not be afraid; I am not going to leave you, madame."
+
+"Ah, you are good!  You are kind, kind!  Caracho!  (Very well.)"
+
+"I will not leave you.  But I must not be at luncheon.  If anyone
+asks where I am, say that I have my business to look after, and
+have gone to interview political personages in the city."
+
+"There's only one political personage in Russia," replied Matrena
+Petrovna bluntly; "that is the Tsar."
+
+"Very well; say I have gone to interview the Tsar."
+
+"But no one will believe that.  And where will you be?"
+
+"I do not know myself.  But I will be about the house."
+
+"Very well, very well, dear little domovoi."
+
+She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what
+she should think - her head was all in a muddle.
+
+In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus
+Tchnitchnikof arrived.  The general was already in the veranda.
+Michael and Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn
+how he had passed the night without the police.  When they were told
+that Feodor was going for a promenade that afternoon they applauded
+his decision.  "Bravo!  A promenade a la strielka (to the head of
+the island) at the hour when all St.  Petersburg is driving there.
+That is fine.  We will all be there."  The general made them stay
+for luncheon.  Natacha appeared for the meal, in rather melancholy
+mood.  A little before luncheon she had held a double conversation
+in the garden with Michael and Boris.  No one ever could have known
+what these three young people had said if some stenographic notes in
+Rouletabille's memorandum-book did not give us a notion; the reporter
+had overheard, by accident surely, since all self-respecting
+reporters are quite incapable of eavesdropping.
+
+The memorandum notes:
+
+Natacha went into the garden with a book, which she gave to Boris,
+who pressed her hand lingeringly to his lips.  "Here is your book;
+I return it to you.  I don't want any more of them, the ideas surge
+so in my brain.  It makes my head ache.  It is true, you are right,
+I don't love novelties.  I can satisfy myself with Pouchkine
+perfectly.  The rest are all one to me.  Did you pass a good night?"
+
+Boris (good-looking young man, about thirty years old, blonde, a
+little effeminate, wistful.  A curious appurtenance in the military
+household of so vigorous a general).  "Natacha, there is not an
+hour that I can call truly good if I spend it away from you, dear,
+dear Natacha."
+
+"I ask you seriously if you have passed a good night?"
+
+She touched his hand a moment and looked into his eyes, but he
+shook his head.
+
+"What did you do last night after you reached home?" she demanded
+insistently.  "Did you stay up?"
+
+"I obeyed you; I only sat a half-hour by the window looking over
+here at the villa, and then I went to bed."
+
+"Yes, it is necessary you should get your rest.  I wish it for you
+as for everyone else.  This feverish life is impossible.  Matrena
+Petrovna is getting us all ill, and we shall be prostrated."
+
+"Yesterday," said Boris, "I looked at the villa for a half-hour
+from my window.  Dear, dear villa, dear night when I can feel you
+breathing, living near me.  As if you had been against my heart.  I
+could have wept because I could hear Michael snoring in his chamber.
+He seemed happy.  At last, I heard nothing more, there was nothing
+more to hear but the double chorus of frogs in the pools of the
+sland.  Our pools, Natacha, are like the enchanted lakes of the
+Caucasus which are silent by day and sing at evening; there are
+innumerabel throngs of frogs which sing on the same chord, some of
+them on a major and some on a minor.  The chorus speaks from pool
+to pool, lamenting and moaning across the fields and gardens, and
+re-echoing like AEolian harps placed opposite one another."
+
+"Do AEolian harps make so much noise, Boris?"
+
+"You laugh?  I don't find you yourself half the time.  It is Michael
+who has changed you, and I am out of it.  (Here they spoke in
+Russian.)  I shall not be easy until I am your husband.  I can't
+understand your manner with Michael at all."
+
+(Here more Russian words which I do not understand.)
+
+"Speak French; here is the gardener," said Natacha.
+
+"I do not like the way you are managing our lives.  Why do you
+delay our marriage?  Why?"
+
+(Russian words from Natacha.  Gesture of desperation from Boris.)
+
+"How long?  You say a long time?  But that says nothing - a long
+time.  How long?  A year?  Two years?  Ten years?  Tell me, or I
+will kill myself at your feet.  No, no; speak or I will kill
+Michael.  On my word!  Like a dog!"
+
+"I swear to you, by the dear head of your mother, Boris, that the
+date of our marriage does not depend on Michael."
+
+(Some words in Russian.  Boris, a little consoled, holds her hand
+lingeringly to his lips.)
+
+Conversation between Michael and Natacha in the garden:
+
+"Well?  Have you told him?"
+
+"I ended at last by making him understand that there is not any
+hope.  None.  It is necessary to have patience.  I have to have it
+myself."
+
+"He is stupid and provoking."
+
+"Stupid, no.  Provoking, yes, if you wish.  But you also, you are
+provoking."
+
+"Natacha!  Natacha!"
+
+(Here more Russian.)  As Natacha started to leave, Michael placed
+his hand on her shoulder, stopped her and said, looking her direct
+in the eyes:
+
+"There will be a letter from Annouchka this evening, by a messenger
+at five o'clock."  He made each syllable explicit.  "Very important
+and requiring an immediate reply."
+
+These notes of Rouletabille's are not followed by  any commentary.
+
+After luncheon the gentlemen played poker until half-past four,
+which is the "chic" hour for the promenade to the head of the
+island.  Rouletabille had directed Matrena to start exactly at a
+quarter to five.  He appeared in the meantime, announcing that he
+had just interviewed the mayor of St. Petersburg, which made Athanase
+laugh, who could not understand that anyone would come clear from
+Paris to talk with men like that.  Natacha came from her chamber to
+join them for the promenade.  Her father told her she looked too
+worried.
+
+They left the villa.  Rouletabille noted that the dvornicks were
+before the gate and that the schwitzar was at his post, from which
+he could detect everyone who might enter or leave the villa.
+Matrena pushed the rolling-chair herself.  The general was radiant.
+He had Natacha at his right and at his left Athanase and Thaddeus.
+The two orderlies followed, talking with Rouletabille, who had
+monopolized them.  The conversation turned on the devotion of
+Matrena Petrovna, which they placed above the finest heroic traits
+in the women of antiquity, and also on Natacha's love for her father.
+Rouletabille made them talk.
+
+Boris Mourazoff explained that this exceptional love was accounted
+for by the fact that Natacha's own mother, the general's first wife,
+died in giving birth to their daughter, and accordingly Feodor
+Feodorovitch had been both father and mother to his daughter.  He
+had raised her with the most touching care, not permitting anyone
+else, when she was sick, to have the care of passing the nights by
+her bedside.
+
+Natacha was seven years old when Feodor Feodorovitch was appointed
+governor of Orel.  In the country near Orel, during the summer, the
+general and his daughter lived on neighborly terms near the family
+of old Petroff, one of the richest fur merchants in Russia.  Old
+Petroff had a daughter, Matrena, who was magnificent to see, like
+a beautiful field-flower.  She was always in excellent humor, never
+spoke ill of anyone in the neighborhood, and not only had the fine
+manners of a city dame but a great, simple heart, which she lavished
+on the little Natacha.
+
+The child returned the affection of the beautiful Matrena, and it
+was on seeing them always happy to find themselves together that
+Trebassof dreamed of reestablishing his fireside.  The nuptials
+were quickly arranged, and the child, when she learned that her
+good Matrena was to wed her papa, danced with joy.  Then misfortune
+came only a few weeks before the ceremony.  Old Petroff, who
+speculated on the Exchange for a long time without anyone knowing
+anything about it, was ruined from top to bottom.  Matrena came one
+evening to apprise Feodor Feodorovitch of this sad news and return
+his pledge to him.  For all response Feodor placed Natacha in
+Matrena's arms.  "Embrace your mother," he said to the child, and
+to Matrena,  "From to-day I consider you my wife, Matrena Petrovna.
+You should obey me in all things.  Take that reply to your father
+and tell him my purse is at his disposition."
+
+The general was already, at that time, even before he had inherited
+the Cheremaieff, immensely rich.  He had lands behind Nijni as vast
+as a province, and it would have been difficult to count the number
+of moujiks who worked for him on his property.  Old Pretroff gave
+his daughter and did not wish to accept anything in exchange.  Feodor
+wished to settle a large allowance on his wife; her father opposed
+that, and Matrena sided with him in the matter against her husband,
+because of Natacha.  "It all belongs to the little one," she
+insisted.  "I accept the position of her mother, but on the condition
+that she shall never lose a kopeck of her inheritance."
+
+"So that," concluded Boris, "if the general died tomorrow she would
+be poorer than Job."
+
+"Then the general is Matrena's sole resource," reflected Rouletabille
+aloud.
+
+"I can understand her hanging onto him," said Michael Korsakoff,
+blowing the smoke of his yellow cigarette.  "Look at her.  She
+watches him like a treasure."
+
+"What do you mean, Michael Nikolaievitch?" said Boris, curtly.
+"You believe, do you, that the devotion of Matrena Petrovna is not
+disinterested.  You must know her very poorly to dare utter such
+a thought."
+
+"I have never had that thought, Boris Alexandrovitch," replied the
+other in a tone curter still.  "To be able to imagine that anyone
+who lives in the Trebassofs' home could have such a thought needs
+an ass's head, surely."
+
+"We will speak of it again, Michael Nikolaievitch."
+
+"At your pleasure, Boris Alexandrovitch."
+
+They had exchanged these latter words tranquilly continuing their
+walk and negligently smoking their yellow tobacco.  Rouletabille was
+between them.  He did not regard them; he paid no attention even to
+their quarrel; he had eyes only for Natacha, who just now quit her
+place beside her father's wheel-chair and passed by them with a
+little nod of the head, seeming in haste to retrace the way back to
+the villa.
+
+"Are you leaving us?" Boris demanded of her.
+
+"Oh, I will rejoin you immediately.  I have forgotten my umbrella."
+
+"But I will go and get it for you," proposed Michael."
+
+"No, no.  I have to go to the villa; I will return right away."
+
+She was already past them.  Rouletabille, during this, looked at
+Matrena Petrovna, who looked at him also, turning toward the young
+man a visage pale as wax.  But no one else noted the emotion of the
+good Matrena, who resumed pushing the general's wheel-chair.
+
+Rouletabille asked the officers, "Was this arrangement because the
+first wife of the general, Natacha's mother, was rich?"
+
+"No.  The general, who always had his heart in his hand," said
+Boris, "married her for her great beauty.  She was a beautiful girl
+of the Caucasus, of excellent family besides, that Feodor
+Feodorovitch had known when he was in garrison at Tiflis."
+
+"In short," said Rouletabille, "the day that General Trebassof dies
+Madame Trebassof, who now possesses everything, will have nothing,
+and the daughter, who now has nothing, will have everything."
+
+"Exactly that," said Michael.
+
+"That doesn't keep Matrena Petrovna and Natacha Feodorovna from
+deeply loving each other," observed Boris.
+
+The little party drew near the "Point."  So far the promenade had
+been along pleasant open country, among the low meadows traversed
+by fresh streams, across which tiny bridges had been built, among
+bright gardens guarded by porcelain dwarfs, or in the shade of
+small weeds from the feet of whose trees the newly-cut grass gave
+a seasonal fragrance.  All was reflected in the pools - which lay
+like glass whereon a scene-painter had cut the green hearts of the
+pond-lily leaves.  An adorable country glimpse which seemed to have
+been created centuries back for the amusement of a queen and
+preserved, immaculately trimmed and cleaned, from generation to
+generation, for the eternal charm of such an hour as this on the
+banks of the Gulf of Finland.
+
+Now they had reached the bank of the Gulf, and the waves rippled to
+the prows of the light ships, which dipped gracefully like huge and
+rapid sea-gulls, under the pressure of their great white sails.
+
+Along the roadway, broader now, glided, silently and at walking
+pace, the double file of luxurious equipages with impatient horses,
+the open carriages in which the great personages of the court saw
+the view and let themselves be seen.  Enormous coachmen held the
+reins high.  Lively young women, negligently reclining against the
+cushions, displayed their new Paris toilettes, and kept young
+officers on horseback busy with salutes.  There were all kinds of
+uniforms.  No talking was heard.  Everyone was kept busy looking.
+There rang in the pure, thin air only the noise of the champing bits
+and the tintinnabulation of the bells attached to the hairy Finnish
+ponies' collars.  And all that, so beautiful, fresh, charming and
+clear, and silent, it all seemed more a dream than even that which
+hung in the pools, suspended between the crystal of the air and the
+crystal of the water.  The transparence of the sky and the
+transparence of the gulf blended their two unrealities so that one
+could not note where the horizons met.
+
+Rouletabille looked at the view and looked at the general, and in
+all his young vibrating soul there was a sense of infinite sadness,
+for he recalled those terrible words in the night: "They have gone
+into all the corners of the Russian land, and they have not found
+a single corner of that land where there are not moanings."  "Well,"
+thought he, "they have not come into this corner, apparently.  I
+don't know anything lovelier or happier in the world."  No, no,
+Rouletabille, they have not come here.  In every country there is
+a corner of happy life, which the poor are ashamed to approach,
+which they know nothing of, and of which merely the sight would
+turn famished mothers enraged, with their thin bosoms, and, if it
+is not more beautiful than that, certainly no part of the earth is
+made so atrocious to live in for some, nor so happy for others as
+in this Scythian country, the boreal country of the world.
+
+Meanwhile the little group about the general's rolling-chair had
+attracted attention.  Some passers-by saluted, and the news spread
+quickly that General Trebassof had come for a promenade to "the
+Point."  Heads turned as carriages passed; the general, noticing
+how much excitement his presence produced, begged Matrena Petrovna
+to push his chair into an adjacent by-path, behind a shield of
+trees where he would be able to enjoy the spectacle in peace.
+
+He was found, nevertheless, by Koupriane, the Chief of Police, who
+was looking for him.  He had gone to the datcha and been told
+there that the general, accompanied by his friends and the young
+Frenchman, had gone for a turn along the gulf.  Koupriane had left
+his carriage at the datcha, and taken the shortest route after them.
+
+He was a fine man, large, solid, clear-eyed.  His uniform showed
+his fine build to advantage.  He was generally liked in St.
+Petersburg, where his martial bearing and his well-known bravery
+had given him a sort of popularity in society, which, on the other
+hand, had great disdain for Gounsovski, the head of the Secret
+Police, who was known to be capable of anything underhanded and
+had been accused of sometimes playing into the hands of the
+Nihilists, whom he disguised as agents-provocateurs, without
+anybody really doubting it, and he had to fight against these
+widespread political suspicions.
+
+Well-informed men declared that the death of the previous "prime
+minister," who had been blown up before Varsovie station when he was
+on his way to the Tsar at Peterhof, was Gounsovski's work and that
+in this he was the instrument of the party at court which had sworn
+the death of the minister which inconvenienced it.* On the other
+hand, everyone regarded Koupriane as incapable of participating in
+any such horrors and that he contented himself with honest
+performance of his obvious duties, confining himself to ridding the
+streets of its troublesome elements, and sending to Siberia as many
+as he could of the hot-heads, without lowering himself to the
+compromises which, more than once, had given grounds for the enemies
+of the empire to maintain that it was difilcult to say whether the
+chiefs of the Russian police played the part of the law or that of
+the revolutionary party, even that the police had been at the end
+of a certain time of such mixed procedure hardly able to decide
+themselves which they did.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+Rumored cause of Plehve's assassination.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+
+This afternoon Koupriane appeared very nervous.  He paid his
+compliments to the general, grumbled at his imprudence, praised him
+for his bravery, and then at once picked out Rouletabille, whom he
+took aside to talk to.
+
+"You have sent my men back to me," said he to the young reporter.
+"You understand that I do not allow that.  They are furious, and
+quite rightly.  You have given publicly as explanation of their
+departure - a departure which has naturally astonished, stupefied
+the general's friends - the suspicion of their possible participation
+in the last attack.  That is abominable, and I will not permit it.
+My men have not been trained in the methods of Gounsovski, and it
+does them a cruel injury, which I resent, for that matter,
+personally, to treat them this way.  But let that go, as a matter
+of sentiment, and return to the simple fact itself, which proves
+your excessive imprudence, not to say more, and which involves you,
+you alone, in a responsibility of which you certainly have not
+measured the importance.  All in all, I consider that you have
+strangely abused the complete authority that I gave you upon the
+Emperor's orders.  When I learned what you had done I went to find
+the Tsar, as was my duty, and told him the whole thing.  He was more
+astonished than can be expressed.  He directed me to go myself to
+find out just how things were and to furnish the general the guard
+you had removed.  I arrive at the isles and not only find the villa
+open like a mill where anyone may enter, but I am informed, and then
+I see, that the general is promenading in the midst of the crowd,
+at the mercy of the first miserable venturer.  Monsieur Rouletabille,
+I am not satisfied.  The Tsar is not satisfied.  And, within an hour,
+my men will return to assume their guard at the datcha."
+
+Rouletabille listened to the end.  No one ever had spoken to him in
+that tone.  He was red, and as ready to burst as a child's balloon
+blown too hard.  He said:
+
+"And I will take the train this evening."
+
+"You will go?"
+
+"Yes, and you can guard your general all alone. I have had enough
+of it.  Ah, you are not satisfied!  Ah, the Tsar is not satisfied!
+It is too bad.  No more of it for me.  Monsieur, I am not satisfied,
+and I say Good-evening to you.  Only do not forget to send me from
+here every three or four days a letter which will keep me informed
+of the health of the general, whom I love dearly.  I will offer up
+a little prayer for him."
+
+Thereupon he was silent, for he caught the glance of Matrena
+Petrovna, a glance so desolated, so imploring, so desperate, that
+the poor woman inspired him anew with great pity.  Natacha had not
+returned.  What was the young girl doing at that moment?  If Matrena
+really loved Natacha she must be suffering atrociously.  Koupriane
+spoke; Rouletabille did not hear him, and he had already forgotten
+his own anger.  His spirit was wrapped in the mystery.
+
+"Monsieur," Koupriane finished by saying, tugging his sleeve, "do
+you hear me?  I pray you at least reply to me.  I offer all possible
+excuses for speaking to you in that tone.  I reiterate them.  I ask
+your pardon.  I pray you to explain your conduct, which appeared
+imprudent to me but which, after all, should have some reason.  I
+have to explain to the Emperor.  Will you tell me?  What ought I to
+say to the Emperor?"
+
+"Nothing at all," said Rouletabille.  "I have no explanation to
+give you or the Emperor, or to anyone.  You can offer him my utmost
+homage and do me the kindness to vise my passport for this evening."
+
+And he sighed:
+
+"It is too bad, for we were just about to see something interesting."
+
+Koupriane looked at him.  Rouletabille had not quitted Matrena
+Petrovna's eyes, and her pallor struck Koupriane.
+
+"Just a minute," continued the young man.  "I'm sure there is
+someone who will miss me - that brave woman there.  Ask her which
+she prefers, all your police, or her dear little domovoi.  We are
+good friends already.  And - don't forget to present my condolences
+to her when the terrible moment has come."
+
+It was Koupriane's turn to be troubled.
+
+He coughed and said:
+
+"You believe, then, that the general runs a great immediate danger?"
+
+"I do not only believe it, monsieur, I am sure of it.  His death
+is a matter of hours for the poor dear man.  Before I go I shall
+not fail to tell him, so that he can prepare himself comfortably
+for the great journey and ask pardon of the Lord for the rather
+heavy hand he has laid on these poor men of Presnia."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, have you discovered something?"
+
+"Good Lord, yes, I have discovered something, Monsieur Koupriane.
+You don't suppose I have come so far to waste my time, do you?"
+
+"Something no one else knows?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur Koupriane, otherwise I shouldn't have troubled to
+feel concerned.  Something I have not confided to anyone, not even
+to my note-book, because a note-book, you know, a note-book can
+always be lost.  I just mention that in case you had any idea of
+having me searched before my departure."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur Rouletabille!"
+
+"Eh, eh, like the way the police do in your country; in mine too,
+for that matter.  Yes, that's often enough seen.  The police,
+furious because they can't hit a clue in some case that interests
+them, arrest a reporter who knows more than they do, in order to
+make him talk.  But - nothing of that sort with me, monsieur.  You
+might have me taken to your famous 'Terrible Section,' I'd not open
+my mouth, not even in the famous rocking-chair, not even under the
+blows of clenched fists."
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, what do you take us for?  You are the guest
+of the Tsar."
+
+"Ah, I have the word of an honest man.  Very well, I will treat you
+as an honest man.  I will tell you what I have discovered.  I don't
+wish through any false pride to keep you in darkness about something
+which may perhaps - I say perhaps - permit you to save the general."
+
+"Tell me.  I am listening."
+
+"But it is perfectly understood that once I have told you this you
+will give me my passport and allow me to depart?"
+
+"You feel that you couldn't possibly," inquired Koupriane, more and
+more troubled, and after a moment of hesitation, "you couldn't
+possibly tell me that and yet remain?"
+
+"No, monsieur.  From the moment you place me under the necessity of
+explaining each of my movements and each of my acts, I prefer to go
+and leave to you that 'responsibility' of which you spoke just now,
+my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+Astonished and disquieted by this long conversation between
+Rouletabille and the Head of Police, Matrena Petrovna continually
+turned upon them her anguished glance, which always insensihly
+softened as it rested on Rouletabille.  Koupriane read there all
+the hope that the brave woman had in the young reporter, and he
+read also in Rouletabille's eye all the extraordinary confidence
+that the mere boy had in himself.  As a last consideration had he
+not already something in hand in circumstances where all the
+police of the world had admitted themselves vanquished?  Koupriane
+pressed Rouletabille's hand and said just one word to him:
+
+"Remain."
+
+Having saluted the general and Matrena affectionately, and a group
+of friends in one courteous sweep, he departed, with thoughtful brow.
+
+During all this time the general, enchanted with the promenade,
+told stories of the Caucasus to his friends, believing himself young
+again and re-living his nights as sub-lieutenant at Tills.  As to
+Natacha, no one had seen her.  They retraced the way to the villa
+along deserted by-paths.  Koupriane's call made occasion for Athanase
+Georgevitch and Thaddeus, and the two officers also, to say that he
+was the only honest man in all the Russian police, and that Matrena
+Petrovna was a great woman to have dared rid herself of the entire
+clique of agents, who are often more revolutionary than the
+Nihilists themselves.  Thus they arrived at the datcha.
+
+The general inquired for Natacha, not understanding why she had
+left him thus during his first venture out.  The schwitzar replied
+that the young mistress had returned to the house and had left again
+about a quarter of an hour later, taking the way that the party had
+gone on their promenade, and he had not seen her since.
+
+Boris spoke up:
+
+"She must have passed on the other side of the carriages while we
+were behind the trees, general, and not seeing us she has gone on
+her way, making the round of the island, over as far as the Barque."
+
+The explanation seemed the most plausible one.
+
+"Has anyone else been here?" demanded Matrena, forcing her voice to
+be calm.  Rouletabille saw her hand tremble on the handle of the
+rolling-chair, which she had not quitted for a second during all
+the promenade, refusing aid from the officers, the friends, and
+even from Rouletabille.
+
+"First there came the Head of Police, who told me he would go and
+find you, Barinia, and right after, His Excellency the Marshal of
+the Court.  His Excellency will return, although he is very pressed
+for time, before he takes the train at seven o'clock for
+Krasnoie-Coelo."
+
+All this had been said in Russian, naturally, but Matrena translated
+the words of the schwitzar into French in a low voice for
+Rouletabille, who was near her.  The general during this time had
+taken Rouletabille's hand and pressed it affectionately, as if, in
+that mute way, to thank him for all the young man had done for
+them.  Feodor himself also had confidence, and he was grateful for
+the freer air that he was being allowed to breathe.  It seemed to
+him that he was emerging from prison.  Nevertheless, as the
+promenade had been a little fatiguing, Matrena ordered him to go
+and rest immediately.  Athanase and Thaddeus took their leave.
+The two officers were already at the end of the garden, talking
+coldly, and almost confronting one another, like wooden soldiers.
+Without doubt they were arranging the conditions of an encounter to
+settle their little difference at once.
+
+The schwitzar gathered the general into his great arms and carried
+him into the veranda.  Feodor demanded five minutes' respite before
+he was taken upstairs to his chamber.  Matrena Petrovna had a light
+luncheon brought at his request.  In truth, the good woman trembled
+with impatience and hardly dared move without consulting
+Rouletabille's face.  While the general talked with Ermolai, who
+passed him his tea, Rouletabille made a sign to Matrena that she
+understood at once.  She joined the young man in the drawing-room.
+
+"Madame," he said rapidly, in a low voice, "you must go at once to
+see what has happened there."
+
+He pointed to the dining-room.
+
+"Very well."
+
+It was pitiful to watch her.
+
+"Go, madame, with courage."
+
+"Why don't you come with me?"
+
+"Because, madame, I have something to do elsewhere.  Give me the
+keys of the next floor."
+
+"No, no.  What for?"
+
+"Not a second's delay, for the love of Heaven.  Do what I tell you
+on your side, and let me do mine.  The keys!  Come, the keys!"
+
+He snatched them rather than took them, and pointed a last time to
+the dining-room with a gesture so commanding that she did not
+hesitate further.  She entered the dining-room, shaking, while he
+bounded to the upper floor.  He was not long.  He took only time
+to open the doors, throw a glance into the general's chamber, a
+single glance, and to return, letting a cry of joy escape him,
+borrowed from his new and very limited accomplishment of Russian,
+"Caracho!"
+
+How Rouletabille, who had not spent half a second examining the
+general's chamber, was able to be certain that all went well on
+that side, when it took Matrena - and that how many times a day!
+- at least a quarter of an hour of ferreting in all the corners
+each time she explored her house before she was even inadequately
+reassured, was a question.  If that dear heroic woman had been with
+him during this "instant information" she would have received such
+a shock that, with all confidence gone, she would have sent for
+Koupriane immediately, and all his agents, reinforced by the
+personnel of the Okrana (Secret Police).  Rouletabille at once
+rejoined the general, whistling.  Feodor and Ermolai were deep in
+conversation about the Orel country.  The young man did not disturb
+them.  Then, soon, Matrena reappeared.  He saw her come in quite
+radiant.  He handed back her keys, and she took them mechanically.
+She was overjoyed and did not try to hide it.  The general himself
+noticed it, and asked what had made her so.
+
+"It is my happiness over our first promenade since we arrived at
+the datcha des Iles," she explained.  "And now you must go upstairs
+to bed, Feodor.  You will pass a good night, I am sure."
+
+"I can sleep only if you sleep, Matrena."
+
+"I promise you.  It is quite possible now that we have our dear
+little domovoi.  You know, Feodor, that he smokes his pipe just
+like the dear little porcelain domovoi."
+
+"He does resemble him, he certainly does," said Feodor.  "That
+makes us feel happy, but I wish him to sleep also."
+
+"Yes, yes," smiled Rouletabille, "everybody will sleep here.  That
+is the countersign.  We have watched enough.  Since the police are
+gone we can all sleep, believe me, general."
+
+"Eh, eh, I believe you, on my word, easily enough.  There were only
+they in the house capable of attempting that affair of the bouquet.
+I have thought that all out, and now I am at ease.  And anyway,
+whatever happens, it is necessary to get sleep, isn't it?  The
+chances of war!  Nichevo!"  He pressed Rouletabille's hand, and
+Matrena Petrovna took, as was her habit, Feodor Feodorovitch on her
+back and lugged him to his chamber.  In that also she refused aid
+from anyone.  The general clung to his wife's neck during the ascent
+and laughed like a child.  Rouletabille remained in the hallway,
+watching the garden attentively.  Ermolai walked out of the villa
+and crossed the garden, going to meet a personage in uniform whom
+the young man recognized immediately as the grand-marshal of the
+court, who had introduced him to the Tsar.  Ermolai informed him
+that Madame Matrena was engaged in helping her husband retire, and
+the marshal remained at the end of the garden where he had found
+Michael and Boris talking in the kiosque.  All three remained there
+for some time in conversation, standing by a table where General
+and Madame Trebassof sometimes dined when they had no guests.  As
+they talked the marshal played with a box of white cardboard tied
+with a pink string.  At this moment Matrena, who had not been able
+to resist the desire to talk for a moment with Rouletabille and
+tell him how happy she was, rejoined the young man.
+
+"Little domovoi," said she, laying her hand on his shoulder, "you
+have not watched on this side?"
+
+She pointed in her turn to the dining-room.
+
+"No, no.  You have seen it, madame, and I am sufficiently informed."
+
+"Perfectly.  There is nothing.  No one has worked there!  No one
+has touched the board.  I knew it.  I am sure of it.  It is dreadful
+what we have thought about it!  Oh, you do not know how relieved and
+happy I am.  Ah, Natacha, Natacha, I have not loved you in vain.
+(She pronounced these words in accents of great beauty and tragic
+sincerity.)  When I saw her leave us, my dear, ah, my legs sank
+under me.  When she said, 'I have forgotten something; I must hurry
+back,' I felt I had not the strength to go a single step.  But now
+I certainly am happy, that weight at least is off my heart, off my
+heart, dear little domovoi, because of you, because of you."
+
+She embraced him, and then ran away, like one possessed, to resume
+her post near the general.
+
+Notes in Rouletabille's memorandum-book: The affair of the little
+cavity under the floor not having been touched again proves nothing
+for or against Natacha (even though that excellent Matrena Petrovna
+thinks so).  Natacha could very well have been warned by the too
+great care with which Madame Matrena watched the floor.  My opinion,
+since I saw Matrena lift the carpet the first time without any real
+precaution, is that they have definitely abandoned the preparation
+of that attack and are trying to account for the secret becoming
+known.  What Matrena feels so sure of is that the trap I laid by
+the promenade to the Point was against Natacha particularly.  I
+knew beforehand that Natacha would absent herself during the
+promenade.  I'm not looking for anything new from Natacha, but what
+I did need was to be sure that Matrena didn't detest Natacha, and
+that she had not faked the preparations for an attack under the
+floor in such a way as to throw almost certain suspicion on her
+step-daughter.  I am sure about that now.  Matrena is innocent of
+such a thing, the poor dear soul.  If Matrena had been a monster
+the occasion was too good.  Natacha's absence, her solitary
+presence for a quarter of an hour in the empty villa, all would
+have urged Matrena, whom I sent alone to search under the carpet
+in the dining-room, to draw the last nails from the board if she
+was really guilty of having drawn the others.  Natacha would have
+been lost then!  Matrena returned sincerely, tragically happy at
+not having found anything new, and now I have the material proof
+that I needed.  Morally and physically Matrena is removed from it.
+So I am going to speak to her about the hat-pin.  I believe that
+the matter is urgent on that side rather than on the side of the
+nails in the floor.
+
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
+
+After the departure of Matrena, Rouletabille turned his attention
+to the garden.   Neither the marshal of the court nor the officers
+were there any longer.  The three men had disappeared.  Rouletabille
+wished to know at once where they had gone.  He went rapidly to the
+gate, named the officers and the marshal to Ermolai, and Ermolai
+made a sign that they had passed out.  Even as he spoke he saw the
+marshal's carriage disappear around a corner of the road.  As to
+the two officers, they were nowhere on the roadway.  He was
+surprised that the marshal should have gone without seeing Matrena
+or the general or himself, and, above all, he was disquieted by the
+disappearance of the orderlies.  He gathered from the gestures of
+Ermolai that they had passed before the lodge only a few minutes
+after the marshal's departure.  They had gone together.  Rouletabille
+set himself to follow them, traced their steps in the soft earth of
+the roadway and soon they crossed onto the grass.  At this point
+the tracks through the massed ferns became very difficult to follow.
+He hurried along, bending close to the ground over such traces as he
+could see, which continually led him astray, but which conducted him
+finally to the thing that he sought.  A noise of voices made him
+raise his head and then throw himself behind a tree.  Not twenty
+steps from him Natacha and Boris were having an animated
+conversation.  The young officer held himself erect directly in
+front of her, frowning and impatient.  Under the uniform cloak that
+he had wrapped about him without having bothered to use the sleeves,
+which were tossed up over his chest, Boris had his arms crossed.
+His entire attitude indicated hauteur, coldness and disdain for
+what he was hearing.  Natacha never appeared calmer or more mistress
+of herself.  She talked to him rapidly and mostly in a low voice.
+Sometimes a word in Russian sounded, and then she resumed her care
+to speak low.  Finally she ceased, and Boris, after a short silence,
+in which he had seemed to reflect deeply, pronounced distinctly
+these words in French, pronouncing them syllable by syllable, as
+though to give them additional force:
+
+"You ask a frightful thing of me."
+
+"It is necessary to grant it to me," said the young girl with
+singular energy.  "You understand, Boris Alexandrovitch! It is
+necessary."
+
+Her gaze, after she had glanced penetratingly all around her and
+discovered nothing suspicious, rested tenderly on the young
+officer, while she murmured, "My Boris!"  The young man could not
+resist either the sweetness of that voice, nor the captivating charm
+of that glance.  He took the hand she extended toward him and kissed
+it passionately.  His eyes, fixed on Natacha, proclaimed that he
+granted everything that she wished and admitted himself vanquished.
+Then she said, always with that adorable gaze upon him, "This
+evening!"  He replied, "Yes, yes.  This evening!  This evening!"
+upon which Natacha withdrew her hand and made a sign to the officer
+to leave, which he promptly obeyed.  Natacha remained there still a
+long time, plunged in thought.  Rouletabille had already taken the
+road back to the villa.  Matrena Petrovna was watching for his
+return, seated on the first step of the landing on the great
+staircase which ran up from the veranda.  When she saw him she ran
+to him.  He had already reached the dining-room.
+
+"Anyone in the house?" he asked.
+
+"No one.  Natacha has not returned, and ..."
+
+"Your step-daughter is coming in now.  Ask her where she has been,
+if she has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return
+this evening, in case she answers that she has seen them."
+
+"Very well, little domovoi doukh.  The orderlies left without my
+seeing when they went."
+
+"Ah," interrupted Rouletabille, "before she arrives, give me all
+her hat-pins."
+
+"What!"
+
+"I say, all her hat-pins.  Quickly!"
+
+Matrena ran to Natacha's chamber and returned with three enormous
+hat-pins with beautifully-cut stones in them.
+
+"These are all?"
+
+"They are all I have found.  I know she has two others.  She has
+one on her head, or two, perhaps; I can't find them."
+
+"Take these back where you found them," said the reporter, after
+glancing at them.
+
+Matrena returned immediately, not understanding what he was doing.
+
+"And now, your hat-pins.  Yes, your hat-pins."
+
+"Oh, I have only two, and here they are," said she, drawing them
+from the toque she had been wearing and had thrown on the sofa when
+she re-entered the house.
+
+Rouletabille gave hers the same inspection.
+
+"Thanks.  Here is your step-daughter."
+
+Natacha entered, flushed and smiling.
+
+"Ah, well," said she, quite breathless, "you may boast that I had
+to search for you.  I made the entire round, clear past the Barque.
+Has the promenade done papa good?"
+
+"Yes, he is asleep," replied Matrena.  "Have you met Boris and
+Michael?"
+
+She appeared to hesitate a second, then replied:
+
+"Yes, for an instant."
+
+"Did they say whether they would return this evening?"
+
+"No," she replied, slightly troubled.  "Why all these questions?"
+
+She flushed still more.
+
+"Because I thought it strange," parried Matrena, "that they went
+away as they did, without saying goodby, without a word, without
+inquiring if the general needed them.  There is something stranger
+yet.  Did you see Kaltsof with them, the grand-marshal of the court?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Kaltsof came for a moment, entered the garden and went away again
+without seeing us, without saying even a word to the general."
+
+"Ah," said Natacha.
+
+With apparent indifference, she raised her arms and drew out her
+hat-pins.  Rouletabille watched the pin without a word.  The young
+girl hardly seemed aware of their presence.  Entirely absorbed in
+strange thoughts, she replaced the pin in her hat and went to hang
+it in the veranda, which served also as vestibule.  Rouletabille
+never quitted her eyes.  Matrena watched the reporter with a stupid
+glance.  Natacha crossed the drawing-room and entered her chamber
+by passing through her little sitting-room, through which all
+entrance to her chamber had to be made.  That little room, though,
+had three doors.  One opened into Natacha's chamber, one into the
+drawing-room, and the third into the little passage in a corner of
+the house where was the stairway by which the servants passed from
+the kitchens to the ground-floor and the upper floor.  This passage
+had also a door giving directly upon the drawing-room.  It was
+certainly a poor arrangement for serving the dining-room, which was
+on the other side of the drawing-room and behind the veranda, such
+a chance laying-out of a house as one often sees in the off-hand
+planning of many places in the country.
+
+Alone again with Rouletabille, Matrena noticed that he had not lost
+sight of the corner of the veranda where Natacha had hung her hat.
+Beside this hat there was a toque that Ermolai had brought in.  The
+old servant had found it in some corner of the garden or the
+conservatory where he had been.  A hat-pin stuck out of that toque
+also.
+
+"Whose toque is that?" asked Rouletabille.  "I haven't seen it on
+the head of anyone here."
+
+"It is Natacha's," replied Matrena.
+
+She moved toward it, but the young man held her back, went into the
+veranda himself, and, without touching it, standing on tiptoe, he
+examined the pin.  He sank back on his heels and turned toward
+Matrena.  She caught a glimpse of fleeting emotion on the face of
+her little friend.
+
+"Explain to me," she said.
+
+But be gave her a glance that frightened her, and said low:
+
+"Go and give orders right away that dinner be served in the veranda.
+All through dinner it is absolutely necessary that the door of
+Natacha's sitting-room, and that of the stairway passage, and that
+of the veranda giving on the drawing-room remain open all the time.
+Do you understand me?   As soon as you have given your orders go to
+the general's chamber and do not quit the general's bedside, keep
+it in view.  Come down to dinner when it is announced, and do not
+bother yourself about anything further."
+
+So saying, he filled his pipe, lighted it with a sort of sigh of
+relief, and, after a final order to Matrena, "Go," he went into
+the garden, puffing great clouds.  Anyone would have said he hadn't
+smoked in a week.  He appeared not to be thinking but just idly
+enjoying himself.  In fact, he played like a child with Milinki,
+Matrena's pet cat, which he pursued behind the shrubs, up into the
+little kiosque which, raised on piles, lifted its steep thatched
+roof above the panorama of the isles that Rouletabille settled down
+to contemplate like an artist with ample leisure.
+
+The dinner, where Matrena, Natacha and Rouletabille were together
+again, was lively.  The young man having declared that he was more
+and more convinced that the mystery of the bomb in the bouquet was
+simply a play of the police, Natacha reinforced his opinion, and
+following that they found themselves in agreement on about
+everything else.  For himself, the reporter during that conversation
+hid a real horror which had seized him at the cynical and
+inappropriate tranquillity with which the young lady received all
+suggestions that accused the police or that assumed the general no
+longer ran any immediate danger.  In short, he worked, or at least
+believed he worked, to clear Natacha as he had cleared Matrena, so
+that there would develop the absolute necessity of assuming a third
+person's intervention in the facts disclosed so clearly by Koupriane
+where Matrena or Natacha seemed alone to be possible agents.  As he
+listened to Natacha Rouletabille commenced to doubt and quake just
+as he had seen Matrena do.  The more he looked into the nature of
+Natacha the dizzier he grew.  What abysmal obscurities were there
+in her nature!
+
+Nothing interesting happened during dinner.  Several times, in
+spite of Rouletabille's obvious impatience with her for doing it,
+Matrena went up to the general.  She returned saying, "He is quiet.
+He doesn't sleep.  He doesn't wish anything.  He has asked me to
+prepare his narcotic.  It is too bad.  He has tried in vain, he
+cannot get along without it."
+
+"You, too, mamma, ought to take something to make you sleep.  They
+say morphine is very good."
+
+"As for me," said Rouletabille, whose head for some few minutes
+had been dropping now toward one shoulder and now toward another,
+"I have no need of any narcotic to make me sleep.  If you will
+permit me, I will get to bed at once."
+
+"Eh, my little domovoi doukh, I am going to carry you there in my
+arms."
+
+Matrena extended her large round arms ready to take Rouletabille
+as though he had been a baby.
+
+"No, no.  I will get up there all right alone," said Rouletabille,
+rising stupidly and appearing ashamed of his excessive sleepiness.
+
+"Oh, well, let us both accompany him to his chamber," said Natacha,
+"and I will wish papa good-night.  I'm eager for bed myself.  We will
+all make a good night of it.  Ermolai and Gniagnia will watch with
+the schwitzar in the lodge.  Things are reasonably arranged now."
+
+They all ascended the stairs.  Rouletabille did not even go to see
+the general, but threw himself on his bed.  Natacha got onto the
+bed beside her father, embraced him a dozen times, and went
+downstairs again.  Matrena followed behind her, closed doors and
+windows, went upstairs again to close the door of the landing-place
+and found Rouletabille seated on his bed, his arms crossed, not
+appearing to have any desire for sleep at all.  His face was so
+strangely pensive also that the anxiety of Matrena, who had been
+able to make nothing out of his acts and looks all day, came back
+upon her instantly in greater force than ever.  She touched his arm
+in order to be sure that he knew she was there.
+
+"My little friend," she said, "will you tell me now?"
+
+"Yes, madame," he replied at once.  "Sit in that chair and listen
+to me.  There are things you must know at once, because we have
+reached a dangerous hour."
+
+"The hat-pins first.  The hat-pins!"
+
+Rouletabille rose lightly from the bed and, facing her, but watching
+something besides her, said:
+
+"It is necessary you should know that someone almost immediately
+is going to renew the attempt of the bouquet."
+
+Matrena sprang to her feet as quickly as though she had been told
+there was a bomb in the seat of her chair.  She made herself sit
+down again, however, in obedience to Rouletabile's urgent look
+commanding absolute quiet.
+
+"Renew the attempt of the bouquet!" she murmured in a stifled voice.
+"But there is not a flower in the general's chamber."
+
+"Be calm, madame.  Understand me and answer me: You heard the
+tick-tack from the bouquet while you were in your own chamber?"
+
+"Yes, with the doors open, naturally."
+
+"You told me the persons who came to say good-night to the general.
+At that time there was no noise of tick-tack?"
+
+"No, no."
+
+"Do you think that if there had been any tick-tack then you would
+have heard it, with all those persons talking in the room?"
+
+"I hear everything.  I hear everything."
+
+"Did you go downstairs at the same time those people did?"
+
+"No, no; I remained near the general for some time, until he was
+sound asleep."
+
+"And you heard nothing?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"You closed the doors behind those persons?"
+
+"Yes, the door to the great staircase.  The door of the servants'
+stairway was condemned a long time ago; it has been locked by me,
+I alone have the key and on the inside of the door opening into the
+general's chamber there is also a bolt which is always shot.  All
+the other doors of the chambers have been condemned by me.  In order
+to enter any of the four rooms on this floor it is necessary now to
+pass by the door of my chamber, which gives on the main staircase."
+
+"Perfect.  Then, no one has been able to enter the apartment.  No
+one had been in the apartment for at least two hours excepting you
+and the general, when you heard the clockwork.  From that the only
+conclusion is that only the general and you could have started it
+going."
+
+"What are you trying to say?" Matrena demanded, astounded.
+
+"I wish to prove to you by this absurd conclusion, madame, that it
+is necessary never - never, you understand?  Never - to reason
+solely upon even the most evident external evidence when those
+seemingly-conclusive appearances are in conflict with certain moral
+truths that also are clear as the light of day.  The light of day
+for me, madame, is that the general does not desire to commit
+suicide and, above all, that he would not choose the strange method
+of suicide by clockwork.  The light of day for me is that you adore
+your husband and that you are ready to sacrifice your life for his."
+
+"Now! exclaimed Matrena, whose tears, always ready in emotional
+moments, flowed freely.  "But, Holy Mary, why do you speak to me
+without looking at me?  What is it?  What is it?"
+
+"Don't turn!  Don't make a movement!  You hear - not a move!  And
+speak low, very low.  And don't cry, for the love of God!"
+
+"But you say at once ... the bouquet!  Come to the general's room!"
+
+"Not a move.  And continue listening to me without interrupting,"
+said he, still inclining his ear, and still without looking at her.
+"It is because these things were as the light of day to me that I
+say to myself, 'It is impossible that it should be impossible for
+a third person not to have placed the bomb in the bouquet.  Someone
+is able to enter the general's chamber even when the general is
+watching and all the doors are locked."
+
+"Oh, no.  No one could possibly enter.  I swear it to you."
+
+As she swore it a little too loudly, Rouletabille seized her arm
+so that she almost cried out, but she understood instantly that it
+was to keep her quiet.
+
+"I tell you not to interrupt me, once for all."
+
+"But, then, tell me what you are looking at like that."
+
+"I am watching the corner where someone is going to enter the
+general's chamber when everything is locked, madame.  Do not move!"
+
+Matrena, her teeth chattering, recalled that when she entered
+Rouletabille's chamber she had found all the doors open that
+communicated with the chain of rooms: the young man's chamber with
+hers, the dressing-room and the general's chamber.  She tried, under
+Rouletabille's look, to keep calm, but in spite of all the reporter's
+exhortations she could not hold her tongue.
+
+"But which way?  Where will they enter?"
+
+"By the door."
+
+"Which door?"
+
+"That of the chamber giving on the servants' stair-way."
+
+"Why, how?  The key! The bolt!"
+
+"They have made a key."
+
+"But the bolt is drawn this side."
+
+"They will draw it back from the other side."
+
+"What!  That is impossible."
+
+Rouletabille laid his two hands on Matrena's strong shoulders and
+repeated, detaching each syllable, "They will draw it back from the
+other side."
+
+"It is impossible.  I repeat it."
+
+"Madame, your Nihilists haven't invented anything.  It is a trick
+much in vogue with sneak thieves in hotels.  All it needs is a
+little hole the size of a pin bored in the panel of the door above
+the bolt."
+
+"God!" quavered Matrena.  "I don't understand what you mean by your
+little hole.  Explain to me, little domovoi."
+
+"Follow me carefully, then," continued Rouletabille, his eyes all
+the time fixed elsewhere.  "The person who wishes to enter sticks
+through the hole a brass wire that he has already given the necessary
+curve to and which is fitted on its end with a light point of steel
+curved inward.  With such an instrument it is child's play, if the
+hole has been made where it ought to be, to touch the bolt on the
+inside from the outside, pick the knob on it, withdraw it, and open
+the door if the bolt is like this one, a small door-bolt."
+
+"Oh, oh, oh," moaned Matrena, who paled visibly.  "And that hole?"
+
+"It exists."
+
+"You have discovered it?"
+
+"Yes, the first hour I was here."
+
+"Oh, domovoi! But how did you do that when you never entered the
+general's chamber until to-night?"
+
+"Doubtless, but I went up that servants' staircase much earlier
+than that.  And I will tell you why.  When I was brought into the
+villa the first time, and you watched me, bidden behind the door,
+do you know what I was watching myself, while I appeared to be
+solely occupied digging out the caviare?  The fresh print of
+boot-nails which left the carpet near the table, where someone had
+spilled beer (the beer was still running down the cloth).  Someone
+had stepped in the beer.  The boot-print was not clearly visible
+excepting there.  But from there it went to the door of the servants'
+stairway and mounted the stairs.  That boot was too fine to be
+mounting a stairway reserved to servants and that Koupriane told
+me had been condemned, and it was that made me notice it in a
+moment; but just then you entered."
+
+"You never told me anything about it.  Of course if I had known
+there was a boot-print..."
+
+"I didn't tell you anything about it because I had my reasons for
+that, and, anyway, the trace dried while I was telling you about
+my journey."
+
+"Ah, why not have told me later?"
+
+"Because I didn't know you yet."
+
+"Subtle devil! You will kill me.  I can no longer...  Let us go
+into the general's chamber.  We will wake him."
+
+"Remain here.  Remain here.  I have not told you anything.  That
+boot-print preoccupied me, and later, when I could get away from the
+dining-room, I was not easy until I had climbed that stairway myself
+and gone to see that door, where I discovered what I have just told
+you and what I am going to tell you now."
+
+"What?  What?  In all you have said there has been nothing about
+the hat-pins."
+
+"We have come to them now."
+
+"And the bouquet attack, which is going to happen again?  Why?  Why?"
+
+"This is it.  When this evening you let me go to the general's
+chamber, I examined the bolt of the door without your suspecting it.
+My opinion was confirmed.  It was that way that the bomb was brought,
+and it is by that way that someone has prepared to return."
+
+"But how?  You are sure the little hole is the way someone came?
+But what makes you think that is how they mean to return?  You know
+well enough that, not having succeeded in the general's chamber,
+they are at work in the dining-room."
+
+"Madame, it is probable, it is certain that they have given up the
+work in the dining-room since they have commenced this very day
+working again in the general's chamber.  Yes, someone returned,
+returned that way, and I was so sure of that, of the forthcoming
+return, that I removed the police in order to be able to study
+everything more at my ease.  Do you understand now my confidence
+and why I have been able to assume so heavy a responsibility?  It
+is because I knew I had only one thing to watch: one little hat-pin.
+It is not difficult, madame, to watch a single little hat-pin."
+
+"A mistake," said Matrena, in a low voice.  "Miserable little
+domovoi who told me nothing, me whom you let go to sleep on my
+mattress, in front of that door that might open any moment."
+
+"No, madame.  For I was behind it!"
+
+"Ah, dear little holy angel!  But what were you thinking of!  That
+door has not been watched this afternoon.  In our absence it could
+have been opened.  If someone has placed a bomb during our absence!"
+
+"That is why I sent you at once in to the dining-room on that search
+that I thought would be fruitless, dear madame.  And that is why I
+hurried upstairs to the bedroom.  I went to the stairway door
+instantly.  I had prepared for proof positive if anyone had pushed
+it open even half a millimeter.  No, no one had touched the door in
+our absence.
+
+"Ah, dear heroic little friend of Jesus!  But listen to me.  Listen
+to me, my angel.  Ah, I don't know where I am or what I say.  My
+brain is no more than a flabby balloon punctured with pins, with
+little holes of hat-pins.  Tell me about the hat-pins.  Right off!
+No, at first, what is it that makes you believe - good God! - that
+someone will return by that door?  How can you see that, all that,
+in a poor little hat-pin?"
+
+"Madame, it is not a single hat-pin hole; there are two of them.
+
+"Two hat-pin holes?"
+
+"Yes, two.  An old one and a new one.  One quite new.  Why this
+second hole?  Because the old one was judged a little too narrow
+and they wished to enlarge it, and in enlarging it they broke off
+the point of a hat-pin in it.  Madame, the point is there yet,
+filling up the little old hole and the piece of metal is very sharp
+and very bright."
+
+"Now I understand the examination of the hat-pins.  Then it is so
+easy as that to get through a door with a hat-pin?"
+
+"Nothing easier, especially if the panel is of pine.  Sometimes one
+happens to break the point of a pin in the first hole.  Then of
+necessity one makes a second.  In order to commence the second hole,
+the point of the pin being broken, they have used the point of a
+pen-knife, then have finished the hole with the hat-pin.  The second
+hole is still nearer the bolt than the first one.  Don't move like
+that, madame."
+
+"But they are going to come! They are going to come!"
+
+"I believe so."
+
+"But I can't understand how you can remain so quiet with such a
+certainty.  Great heavens! what proof have you that they have not
+been there already?"
+
+"Just an ordinary pin, madame, not a hat-pin this time.  Don't
+confuse the pins.  I will show you in a little while."
+
+"He will drive me distracted with his pins, dear light of my eyes!
+Bounty of Heaven!  God's envoy!  Dear little happiness-bearer!"
+
+In her transport she tried to take him in her trembling arms, but
+he waved her back.  She caught her breath and resumed:
+
+"Did the examination of all the hat-pins tell you anything?"
+
+"Yes.  The fifth hat-pin of Mademoiselle Natacha's, the one in the
+toque out in the veranda, has the tip newly broken off."
+
+"O misery!" cried Matrena, crumpling in her chair.
+
+Rouletabille raised her.
+
+"What would you have?  I have examined your own hat-pins.  Do you
+think I would have suspected you if I had found one of them broken?
+I would simply have thought that someone had used your property for
+an abominable purpose, that is all."
+
+"Oh, that is true, that is true.  Pardon me.  Mother of Christ, this
+boy crazes me!  He consoles me and he horrifies me.  He makes me
+think of such dreadful things, and then he reassures me.  He does
+what he wishes with me.  What should I become without him?"
+
+And this time she succeeded in taking his head in her two hands and
+kissing him passionately.  Rouletabille pushed her back roughly.
+
+"You keep me from seeing," he said.
+
+She was in tears over his rebuff.  She understood now.  Rouletabille
+during all this conversation had not ceased to watch through the
+open doors of Matrena's room and the dressing-room the farther fatal
+door whose brass bolt shone in the yellow light of the night-lamp.
+
+At last he made her a sign and the reporter, followed by Matrena,
+advanced on tip-toe to the threshold of the general's chamber,
+keeping close to the wall.  Feodor Feodorovitch slept.  They heard
+his heavy breath, but he appeared to be enjoying peaceful sleep.
+The horrors of the night before had fled.  Matrena was perhaps right
+in attributing the nightmares to the narcotic prepared for him each
+night, for the glass from which he drank it when he felt he could
+not sleep was still full and obviously had not been touched.  The
+bed of the general was so placed that whoever occupied it, even if
+they were wide awake, could not see the door giving on the servants'
+stairway.  The little table where the glass and various phials were
+placed and which had borne the dangerous bouquet, was placed near
+the bed, a little back of it, and nearer the door.  Nothing would
+have been easier than for someone who could open the door to
+stretch an arm and place the infernal machine among the wild flowers,
+above all, as could easily be believed, if he had waited for that
+treachery until the heavy breathing of the general told them outside
+that he was fast asleep, and if, looking through the key-hole, he
+had made sure Matrena was occupied in her own chamber.  Rouletabille,
+at the threshold, glided to one side, out of the line of view from
+the hole, and got down on all fours.  He crawled toward the door.
+With his head to the floor he made sure that the little ordinary
+pin which he had placed on guard that evening, stuck in the floor
+against the door, was still erect, having thus additional proof that
+the door had not been moved.  In any other case the pin would have
+lain flat on the floor.  He crept back, rose to his feet, passed
+into the dressing-room and, in a corner, had a rapid conversation
+in a low voice with Matrena.
+
+"You will go," said he, "and take your mattress into the corner of
+the dressing-room where you can still see the door but no one can
+see you by looking through the key-hole.  Do that quite naturally,
+and then go to your rest.  I will pass the night on the mattress,
+and I beg you to believe that I will be more comfortable there than
+on a bed of staircase wood where I spent the night last night,
+behind the door."
+
+"Yes, but you will fall asleep.  I don't wish that."
+
+"What are you thinking, madame?"
+
+"I don't wish it.  I don't wish it.  I don't wish to quit the door
+where the eye is.  And since I'm not able to sleep, let me watch."
+
+He did not insist, and they crouched together on the mattress.
+Rouletabille was squatted like a tailor at work; but Matrena
+remained on all-fours, her jaw out, her eyes fixed, like a
+bulldog ready to spring.  The minutes passed by in profound silence,
+broken only by the irregular breathing and puffing of the general.
+His face stood out pallid and tragic on the pillow; his mouth was
+open and, at times, the lips moved.  There was fear at any moment
+of nightmare or his awakening.  Unconsciously he threw an arm over
+toward the table where the glass of narcotic stood.  Then he lay
+still again and snored lightly.  The night-lamp on the mantelpiece
+caught queer yellow reflections from the corners of the furniture,
+from the gilded frame of a picture on the wall and from the phials
+and glasses on the table.  But in all the chamber Matrena Petrovna
+saw nothing, thought of nothing but the brass bolt which shone there
+on the door.  Tired of being on her knees, she shifted, her chin
+in her hands, her gaze steadily fixed.  As time passed and nothing
+happened she heaved a sigh.  She could not have said whether she
+hoped for or dreaded the coming of that something new which
+Rouletabille had indicated.  Rouletabille felt her shiver with
+anguish and impatience.
+
+As for him, he had not hoped that anything would come to pass until
+toward dawn, the moment, as everyone knows, when deep sleep is most
+apt to vanquish all watchfulness and all insomnia.  And as he waited
+for that moment he had not budged any more than a Chinese ape or the
+dear little porcelain domovoi doukh in the garden.  Of course it
+might be that it was not to happen this night.
+
+Suddenly Matrena's hand fell on Rouletabille's.  His imprisoned
+hers so firmly that she understood she was forbidden to make the
+least movement.  And both, with necks extended, ears erect, watched
+like beasts, like beasts on the scent.
+
+Yes, yes, there had been a slight noise in the lock.  A key turned,
+softly, softly, in the lock, and then - silence; and then another
+little noise, a grinding sound, a slight grating of wire, above,
+then on the bolt; upon the bolt which shone in the subdued glow of
+the night-lamp.  The bolt softly, very softly, slipped slowly.
+
+Then the door was pushed slowly, so slowly.  It opened.
+
+Through the opening the shadow of an arm stretched, an arm which
+held in its fingers something which shone.  Rouletabille felt
+Matrena ready to bound.  He encircled her, he pressed her in his
+arms, he restrained her in silence, and he had a horrible fear
+of hearing her suddenly shout, while the arm stretched out, almost
+touched the pillow on the bed where the general continued to sleep
+a sleep of peace such as he had not known for a long time.
+
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+ARSENATE OF SODA
+
+The mysterious hand held a phial and poured the entire contents
+into the potion.   Then the hand withdrew as it had come, slowly,
+prudently, slyly, and the key turned in the lock and the bolt
+slipped back into place.
+
+Like a wolf, Rouletabille, warning Matrena for a last time not to
+budge, gained the landing-place, bounded towards the stairs, slid
+down the banister right to the veranda, crossed the drawing-room
+like a flash, and reached the little sitting-room without having
+jostled a single piece of furniture.  He noticed nothing, saw
+nothing.  All around was undisturbed and silent.
+
+The first light of dawn filtered through the blinds.  He was able
+to make out that the only closed door was the one to Natacha's
+chamber.  He stopped before that door, his heart beating, and
+listened.  But no sound came to his ear.  He had glided so lightly
+over the carpet that he was sure he had not been heard.  Perhaps
+that door would open.  He waited.  In vain.  It seemed to him there
+was nothing alive in that house except his heart.  He was stifled
+with the horror that he glimpsed, that he almost touched, although
+that door remained closed.  He felt along the wall in order to
+reach the window, and pulled aside the curtain.  Window and blinds
+of the little room giving on the Neva were closed.  The bar of iron
+inside was in its place.  Then he went to the passage, mounted and
+descended the narrow servants' stairway, looked all about, in all
+the rooms, feeling everywhere with silent hands, assuring himself
+that no lock had been tampered with.  On his return to the veranda,
+as he raised his head, he saw at the top of the main staircase a
+figure wan as death, a spectral apparition amid the shadows of the
+passing night, who leaned toward him.  It was Matrena Petrovna.
+She came down, silent as a phantoms and he no longer recognized her
+voice when she demanded of him, "Where?  I require that you tell me.
+Where?"
+
+"I have looked everywhere," he said, so low that Matrena had to
+come nearer to understand his whisper.  "Everything is shut tight.
+And there is no one about."
+
+Matrena looked at Rouletabille with all the power of her eyes, as
+though she would discover his inmost thoughts, but his clear glance
+did not waver, and she saw there was nothing he wished to hide.
+Then Matrena pointed her finger at Natacha's chamber.
+
+"You have not gone in there?" she inquired.
+
+He replied, "It is not necessary to enter there."
+
+"I will enter there, myself, nevertheless," said she, and she set
+her teeth.
+
+He barred her way with his arms spread out.
+
+"If you hold the life of someone dear," said he, "don't go a step
+farther."
+
+"But the person is in that chamber.  The person is there!  It is
+there you will find out!"  And she waved him aside with a gesture
+as though she were sleepwalking.
+
+To recall her to the reality of what he had said to her and to make
+her understand what he desired, he had to grip her wrist in the
+vice of his nervous hand.
+
+"The person is not there, perfhaps," he said  his head.
+"Understand me now."
+
+But she did not understand him.  She said:
+
+"Since the person is nowhere else, the person must be there."
+
+But Rouletabille continued obstinately:
+
+"No, no.  Perhaps he is gone."
+
+"Gone!  And everything locked on the inside!"
+
+"That is not a reason," he replied.
+
+But she could not follow his thoughts any further.  She wished
+absolutely to make her way into Natacha's chamber.  The obsession
+of that was upon her.
+
+"If you enter there," said he, "and if (as is most probable) you
+don't find what you seek there, all is lost!  And as to me, I give
+up the whole thing."
+
+She sank in a heap onto a chair.
+
+"Don't despair," he murmured.  "We don't know for sure yet."
+
+She shook her poor old head dejectedly.
+
+"We know that only she is here, since no one has been able to enter
+and since no one has been able to leave."
+
+That, in truth, filled her brain, prevented her from discerning in
+any corner of her mind the thought of Rouletabille.  Then the
+impossible dialogue resumed.
+
+"I repeat that we do not know but that the person has gone," repeated
+the reporter, and demanded her keys.
+
+"Foolish," she said.  "What do you want them for?"
+
+"To search outside as we have searched inside."
+
+"Why, everything is locked on the inside!"
+
+"Madame, once more, that is no reason that the person may not be
+outside."
+
+He consumed five minutes opening the door of the veranda, so many
+were his precautions.  She watched him impatiently.
+
+He whispered to her:
+
+"I am going out, but don't you lose sight of the little sitting-room.
+At the least movement call me; fire a revolver if you need to."
+
+He slipped into the garden with the same precautions for silence.
+From the corner that she kept to, through the doors left open,
+Matrena could follow all the movements of the reporter and watch
+Natacha's chamber at the same time.  The attitude of Rouletabille
+continued to confuse her beyond all expression.  She watched what
+he did as if she thought him besotted.  The dyernick on guard out
+in the roadway also watched the young man through the bars of the
+gate in consternation, as though he thought him a fool.  Along the
+paths of beaten earth or cement which offered no chance for
+footprints Rouletabille hurried silently.  Around him he noted that
+the grass of the lawn had not been trodden.  And then he paid no
+more attention to his steps.  He seemed to study attentively the
+rosy color in the east, breathing the delicacy of dawning morning
+in the Isles, amid the silence of the earth, which still slumbered.
+
+Bare-headed, face thrown back, hands behind his back, eyes raised
+and fixed, he made a few steps, then suddenly stopped as if he had
+been given an electric shock.  As soon as he seemed to have
+recovered from that shock he turned around and went a few steps
+back to another path, into which he advanced, straight ahead, his
+face high, with the same fixed look that he had had up to the time
+he so suddenly stopped, as if something or someone advised or warned
+him not to go further.  He continually worked back toward the house,
+and thus he traversed all the paths that led from the villa, but in
+all these excursions he took pains not to place himself in the field
+of vision from Natacha's window, a restricted field because of its
+location just around an abutment of the building.  To ascertain
+about this window he crept on all-fours up to the garden-edge that
+ran along the foot of the wall and had sufficient proof that no one
+had jumped out that way.  Then he went to rejoin Matrena in the
+veranda.
+
+"No one has come into the garden this morning," said he, "and no
+one has gone out of the villa into the garden.  Now I am going to
+look outside the grounds.  Wait here; I'll be back in five minutes."
+
+He went away, knocked discreetly on the window of the lodge and
+waited some seconds.  Ermolai came out and opened the gate for him.
+Matrena moved to the threshold of the little sitting-room and
+watched Natacha's door with horror.  She felt her legs give under
+her, she could not stand up under the diabolic thought of such a
+crime.  Ah, that arm, that arm! reaching out, making its way, with
+a little shining phial in its hand.  Pains of Christ!  What could
+there be in the damnable books over which Natacha and her companions
+pored that could make such abominable crimes possible?  Ah, Natacha,
+Natacha! it was from her that she would have desired the answer,
+straining her almost to stifling on her rough bosom and strangling
+her with her own strong hand that she might not hear the response.
+Ah, Natacha, Natacha, whom she had loved so much!  She sank to the
+floor, crept across the carpet to the door, and lay there, stretched
+like a beast, and buried her head in her arms while she wept over
+her daughter.  Natacha, Natacha, whom she had cherished as her own
+child, and who did not hear her.  Ah, what use that the little
+fellow had gone to search outside when the whole truth lay behind
+this door?  Thinking of him, she was embarrassed lest he should
+find her in that animalistic posture, and she rose to her knees and
+worked her way over to the window that looked out upon the Neva.
+The angle of the slanting blinds let her see well enough what
+passed.  outside, and what she saw made her spring to her feet.
+Below her the reporter was going through the same incomprehensible
+maneuvers that she had seen him do in the garden.  Three pathways
+led to the little road that ran along the wall of the villa by the
+bank of the Neva.  The young man, still with his hands behind his
+back and with his face up, took them one after the other.  In the
+first he stopped at the first step.  He didn't take more than two
+steps in the second.  In the third, which cut obliquely toward the
+right and seemed to run to the bank nearest Krestowsky Ostrow, she
+saw him advance slowly at first, then more quickly among the small
+trees and hedges.  Once only he stopped and looked closely at the
+trunk of a tree against which he seemed to pick out something
+invisible, and then he continued to the bank.  There he sat down
+on a stone and appeared to reflect, and then suddenly he cast off
+his jacket and trousers, picked out a certain place on the bank
+across from him, finished undressing and plunged into the stream.
+She saw at once that he swam like a porpoise, keeping beneath and
+showing his head from time to time, breathing, then diving below
+the surface again.  He reached Krestowsky Ostrow in a clump of reeds.
+Then he disappeared.  Below him, surrounded by trees, could be seen
+the red tiles of the villa which sheltered Boris and Michael.  From
+that villa a person could see the window of the sitting-room in
+General Trebassof's residence, but not what might occur along the
+bank of the river just below its walls.  An isvotchick drove along
+the distant route of Krestowsky, conveying in his carriage a company
+of young officers and young women who had been feasting and who sang
+as they rode; then deep silence ensued.  Matrena's eyes searched for
+Rouletabille, but could not find him.  How long was he going to stay
+hidden like that?  She pressed her face against the chill window.
+What was she waiting for?  She waited perhaps for someone to make a
+move on this side, for the door near her to open and the traitorous
+figure of The Other to appear.
+
+A hand touched her carefully.  She turned.
+
+Rouletabille was there, his face all scarred by red scratches,
+without collar or neck-tie, having hastily resumed his clothes.  He
+appeared furious as he surprised her in his disarray.  She let him
+lead her as though she were a child.  He drew her to his room and
+closed the door.
+
+"Madame," he commenced, "it is impossible to work with you.  Why
+in the world have you wept not two feet from your step-daughter's
+door?  You and your Koupriane, you commence to make me regret the
+Faubourg Poissoniere, you know.  Your step-daughter has certainly
+heard you.  It is lucky that she attaches no importance at all to
+your nocturnal phantasmagorias, and that she has been used to them
+a long time.  She has more sense than you, Mademoiselle Natacha has.
+She sleeps, or at least she pretends to sleep, which leaves
+everybody in peace.  What reply will you give her if it happens
+that she asks you the reason to-day for your marching and
+counter-marching up and down the sitting-room and complains that
+you kept her from sleeping?"
+
+Matrena only shook her old, old head.
+
+"No, no, she has not heard me.  I was there like a shadow, like a
+shadow of myself.  She will never hear me.  No one hears a shadow."
+
+Rouletabille felt returning pity for her and spoke more gently.
+
+"In any case, it is necessary, you must understand, that she
+should attach no more importance to what you have done to-night
+than to the things she knows of your doing other nights.  It is not
+the first time, is it, that you have wandered in the sitting-room?
+You understand me?  And to-morrow, madame, embrace her as you
+always have."
+
+"No, not that," she moaned.  "Never that.  I could not."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Matrena did not reply.  She wept.  He took her in his arms like a
+child consoling its mother.
+
+"Don't cry.  Don't cry.  All is not lost.  Someone did leave the
+villa this morning."
+
+"Oh, little domovoi! How is that?  How is that?  How did you find
+that out?"
+
+"Since we didn't find anything inside, it was certainly necessary to
+find something outside."
+
+"And you have found it?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"The Virgin protect you!"
+
+"SHE is with us.  She will not desert us.  I will even say that I
+believe she has a special guardianship over the Isles.  She watches
+over them from evening to morning."
+
+"What are you saying?"
+
+"Certainly.  You don't know what we call in France 'the watchers of
+the Virgin'?"
+
+"Oh, yes, they are the webs that the dear little beasts of the good
+God spin between the trees and that..."
+
+"Exactly.  You understand me and you will understand further when
+you know that in the garden the first thing that struck me across
+the face as I went into it was these watchers of the Virgin spun by
+the dear little spiders of the good God.  At first when I felt them
+on my face I said to myself, 'Hold on, no one has passed this way,'
+and so I went to search other places.  The webs stopped me
+everywhere in the garden.  But, outside the garden, they kept out
+of the way and let me pass undisturbed down a pathway which led to
+the Neva.  So then I said to myself, 'Now, has the Virgin by accident
+overlooked her work in this pathway?  Surely not.  Someone has
+ruined it.'  I found the shreds of them hanging to the bushes, and
+so I reached the river."
+
+"And you threw yourself into the river, my dear angel.  You swim
+like a little god."
+
+"And I landed where the other landed.  Yes, there were the reeds all
+freshly broken.  And I slipped in among the bushes."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"Up to the Villa Krestowsky, madame - where they both live."
+
+"Ah, it was from there someone came?"
+
+There was a silence between them.
+
+She questioned:
+
+"Boris?"
+
+"Someone who came from the villa and who returned there.  Boris or
+Michael, or another.  They went and returned through the reeds.
+But in coming they used a boat; they returned by swimming."
+
+Her customary agitation reasserted itself.
+
+She demanded ardently:
+
+"And you are sure that he came here and that he left here?"
+
+"Yes, I am sure of it."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By the sitting-room window."
+
+"It is impossible, for we found it locked."
+
+"It is possible, if someone closed it behind him."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+She commenced to tremble again, and, falling back into her
+nightmarish horror, she no longer wasted fond expletives on her
+domovoi as on a dear little angel who had just rendered a service
+ten times more precious to her than life.  While he listened
+patiently, she said brutally:
+
+"Why did you keep me from throwing myself on him, from rushing upon
+him as he opened the door?  Ah, I would have, I would have ... we
+would know."
+
+"No.  At the least noise he would have closed the door.  A turn of
+the key and he would have escaped forever.  And he would have been
+warned."
+
+"Careless boy!  Why then, if you knew he was going to come, didn't
+you leave me in the bedroom and you watch below yourself?"
+
+"Because so long as I was below he would not have come.  He only
+comes when there is no one downstairs."
+
+"Ah, Saints Peter and Paul pity a poor woman.  Who do you think it
+is, then?  Who do you think it is?  I can't think any more.  Tell
+me, tell me that.  You ought to know - you know everything.  Come
+- who?  I demand the truth.  Who?  Still some agent of the Committee,
+of the Central Committee?  Still the Nihilists?"
+
+"If it was only that!" said Rouletabille quietly.
+
+"You have sworn to drive me mad!  What do you mean by your 'if it
+was only that'?"
+
+Rouletabille, imperturbable, did not reply.
+
+"What have you done with the potion?" said he.
+
+"The potion?  The glass of the crime! I have locked it in my room,
+in the cupboard - safe, safe!"
+
+"Ah, but, madame, it is necessary to replace it where you took
+it from."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, after having poured the poison into a phial, to wash the glass
+and fill it with another potion."
+
+"You are right.  You think of everything.  If the general wakes and
+wants his potion, he must not be suspicious of anything, and he must
+be able to have his drink."
+
+"It is not necessary that he should drink."
+
+"Well, then, why have the drink there?"
+
+"So that the person can be sure, madame, that if he has not drunk
+it is simply because he has not wished to.  A pure chance, madame,
+that he is not poisoned.  You understand me this time?"
+
+"Yes, yes.  O Christ! But how now, if the general wakes and wishes
+to drink his narcotic?"
+
+"Tell him I forbid it.  And here is another thing you must do.
+When - Someone - comes into the general's chamber, in the morning,
+you must quite openly and naturally throw out the potion, useless
+and vapid, you see, and so Someone will have no right to be
+astonished that the general continues to enjoy excellent health."
+
+"Yes, yes, little one; you are wiser than King Solomon.  And what
+will I do with the phial of poison?"
+
+"Bring it to me."
+
+"Right away."
+
+She went for it and returned five minutes later.
+
+"He is still asleep.  I have put the glass on the table, out of his
+reach.  He will have to call me."
+
+"Very good.  Then push the door to, close it; we have to talk
+things over."
+
+"But if someone goes back up the servants' staircase?"
+
+"Be easy about that.  They think the general is poisoned already.
+It is the first care-free moment I have been able to enjoy in this
+house."
+
+"When will you stop making me shake with horror, little demon!  You
+keep your secret well, I must say.  The general is sleeping better
+than if he really were poisoned.  But what shall we do about Natacha?
+I dare ask you that - you and you alone."
+
+"Nothing at all."
+
+"How - nothing?"
+
+"We will watch her..."
+
+"Ah, yes, yes."
+
+"Still, Matrena, you let me watch her by myself."
+
+"Yes, yes, I promise you.  I will not pay any attention to her.
+That is promised.  That is promised.  Do as you please.  Why, just
+now, when I spoke of the Nihilists to you, did you say, 'If it were
+only that!'?  You believe, then, that she is not a Nihilist?  She
+reads such things - things like on the barricades..."
+
+"Madame, madame, you think of nothing but Natacha.  You have
+promised me not to watch her; promise me not to think about her."
+
+"Why, why did you say, 'If it was only that!'?"
+
+"Because, if there were only Nihilists in your affair, dear madame,
+it would be too simple, or, rather, it would have been more simple.
+Can you possibly believe, madame, that simply a Nihilist, a Nihilist
+who was only a Nihilist, would take pains that his bomb exploded
+from a vase of flowers?  - that it would have mattered where, so
+long as it overwhelmed the general?  Do you imagine that the bomb
+would have had less effect behind the door than in front of it?  And
+the little cavity under the floor, do you believe that a genuine
+revolutionary, such as you have here in Russia, would amuse himself
+by penetrating to the villa only to draw out two nails from a board,
+when one happens to give him time between two visits to the
+dining-room?  Do you suppose that a revolutionary who wished to
+avenge the dead of Moscow and who could succeed in getting so far
+as the door behind which General Trebassof slept would amuse himself
+by making a little hole with a pin in order to draw back the bolt
+and amuse himself by pouring poison into a glass?  Why, in such a
+case, he would have thrown his bomb outright, whether it blew him
+up along with the villa, or he was arrested on the spot, or had to
+submit to the martyrdom of the dungeons in the Fortress of SS. Peter
+and Paul, or be hung at Schlusselburg.  Isn't that what always
+happens?  That is the way he would have done, and not have acted
+like a hotel-rat!  Now, there is someone in your home (or who comes
+to your home) who acts like a hotel-rat because he does not wish to
+be seen, because he does not wish to be discovered, because he does
+not wish to be taken in the act.  Now, the moment that he fears
+nothing so much as to be taken in the act, so that he plays all
+these tricks of legerdemain, it is certain that his object lies
+beyond the act itself, beyond the bomb, beyond the poison.  Why all
+this necessity for bombs of deferred explosion, for clockwork placed
+where it will be confused with other things, and not on a bare
+staircase forbidden to everbody, though you visit it twenty times
+a day?"
+
+"But this man comes in as he pleases by day and by night?  You don't
+answer.  You know who he is, perhaps?"
+
+"I know him, perhaps, but I am not sure who it is yet."
+
+"You are not curious, little domovoi doukh!  A friend of the house,
+certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because
+someone opens the window for him.  And who comes from the Krestowsky
+Villa!  Boris or Michael!  Ah, poor miserable Matrena!  Why don't
+they kill poor Matrena?  Their general!  Their general!  And they
+are soldiers - soldiers who come at night to kill their general.
+Aided by - by whom?  Do you believe that?  You?  Light of my eyes!
+you believe that!  No, no, that is not possible!  I want you to
+understand, monsieur le domovoi, that I am not able to believe
+anything so horrible.  No, no, by Jesus Christ Who died on the
+Cross, and Who searches our hearts, I do not believe that Boris
+- who, however, has very advanced ideas, I admit - it is necessary
+not to forget that; very advanced; and who composes very advanced
+verses also, as I have always told him - I will not believe that
+Boris is capable of such a fearful crime.  As to Michael, he is an
+honest man, and my daughter, my Natacha, is an honest girl.
+Everything looks very bad, truly, but I do not suspect either Michael
+or Boris or my pure and beloved Natacha (even though she has made
+a translation into French of very advanced verses, certainly most
+improper for the daughter of a general).  That is what lies at the
+bottom of my mind, the bottom of my heart - you have understood me
+perfectly, little angel of paradise?  Ah, it is you the general owes
+his life to, that Matrena owes her life.  Without you this house
+would already be a coffin.  How shall I ever reward you?  You wish
+for nothing!  I annoy you!  You don't even listen to me!  A coffin
+- we would all be in our coffins!  Tell me what you desire.  All
+that I have belongs to you!"
+
+"I desire to smoke a pipe.
+
+"Ah, a pipe!  Do you want some yellow perfumed tobacco that I
+receive every month from Constantinople, a treat right from the
+harem?  I will get enough for you, if you like it, to smoke ten
+thousand pipes full."
+
+"I prefer caporal," replied Rouletabille.  "But you are right.  It
+is not wise to suspect anybody.  See, watch, wait.  There is always
+time, once the game is caught, to say whether it is a hare or a
+wild boar.  Listen to me, then, my good mamma.  We must know first
+what is in the phial.  Where is it?"
+
+"Here it is."
+
+She drew it from her sleeve.  He stowed it in his pocket.
+
+"You wish the general a good appetite, for me.  I am going out.
+I will be back in two hours at the latest.  And, above all, don't
+let the general know anything.  I am going to see one of my friends
+who lives in the Aptiekarski pereolek."*
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+* The little street of the apothecaries.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Depend on me, and get back quickly for love of me.  My blood clogs
+in my heart when you are not here, dear servant of God."
+
+She mounted to the general's room and came down at least ten times
+to see if Rouletabille had not returned.  Two hours later he was
+around the villa, as he had promised.  She could not keep herself
+from running to meet him, for which she was scolded.
+
+"Be calm.  Be calm.  Do you know what was in the phial?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Arsenate of soda, enough to kill ten people."
+
+"Holy Mary!"
+
+"Be quiet.  Go upstairs to the general."
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch was in charming humor.  It was his first good
+night since the death of the youth of Moscow.  He attributed it to
+his not having touched the narcotic and resolved, once more, to
+give up the narcotic, a resolve Rouletabille and Matrena encouraged.
+During the conversation there was a knock at the door of Matrena's
+chamber.  She ran to see who was there, and returned with Natacha,
+who wished to embrace her father.  Her face showed traces of
+fatigue.  Certainly she had not passed as good a night as her
+father, and the general reproached her for looking so downcast.
+
+"It is true.  I had dreadful dreams.  But you, papa, did you sleep
+well?  Did you take your narcotic?"
+
+"No, no, I have not touched a drop of my potion."
+
+"Yes, I see.  Oh, well, that is all right; that is very good.
+Natural sleep must be coming back..."
+
+Matrena, as though hypnotized by Rouletabille, had taken the glass
+from the table and ostentatiously carried it to the dressing-room
+to throw it out, and she delayed there to recover her
+self-possession.
+
+Natacha continued:
+
+"You will see, papa, that you will be able to live just like
+everyone else finally.  The great thing was to clear away the
+police, the atrocious police; wasn't it, Monsieur Rouletabille?"
+
+"I have always said, for myself, that I am entirely of Mademoiselle
+Natacha's mind.  You can be entirely reassured now, and I shall
+leave you feeling reassured.  Yes, I must think of getting my
+interviews done quickly, and departing.  Ah well, I can only say
+what I think.  Run things yourselves and you will not run any
+danger.  Besides, the general gets much better, and soon I shall
+see you all in France, I hope.  I must thank you now for your
+friendly hospitality."
+
+"Ah, but you are not going?  You are not going!"  Matrena had
+already set herself to protest with all the strenuous torrent of
+words in her poor desolated heart, when a glance from the reporter
+cut short her despairing utterances.
+
+"I shall have to remain a week still in the city.  I have engaged a
+chamber at the Hotel de France.  It is necessary.  I have so many
+people to see and to receive.  I will come to make you a little
+visit from time to time."
+
+"You are then quite easy," demanded the general gravely, "at leaving
+me all alone?"
+
+"Entirely easy.  And, besides, I don't leave you all alone.  I leave
+you with Madame Trebassof and Mademoiselle.  I repeat:  All three of
+you stay as I see you now.  No more police, or, in any case, the
+fewest possible."
+
+"He is right, he is right," repeated Natacha again.
+
+At this moment there were fresh knocks at the door of Matrena's
+chamber.  It was Ermolai, who announced that his Excellency the
+Marshal of the Court, Count Keltzof, wished to see the general,
+acting for His Majesty.
+
+"Go and receive the Count, Natacha, and tell him that your father
+will be downstairs in a moment."
+
+Natacha and Rouletabille went down and found the Count in the
+drawing-room.  He was a magnificent specimen, handsome and big as
+one of the Swiss papal guard.  He seemed watchful in all directions
+and all among the furniture, and was quite evidently disquieted.
+He advanced immediately to meet the young lady, inquiring the news.
+
+"It is all good news," replied Natacha.  "Everybody here is splendid.
+The general is quite gay.  But what news have you, monsieur le
+marechal?  You appear preoccupied."
+
+The marshal had pressed Rouletabille's hand.
+
+"And my grapes?" he demanded of Natacha.
+
+"How, your grapes?  What grapes?"
+
+"If you have not touched them, so much the better.  I arrived here
+very anxious.  I brought you yesterday, from Krasnoie-Coelo, some
+of the Emperor's grapes that Feodor Feodorovitch enjoyed so much.
+Now this morning I learned that the eldest son of Doucet, the French
+head-gardener of the Imperial conservatories at Krasnoie, had died
+from eating those grapes, which he had taken from those gathered
+for me to bring here.  Imagine my dismay.  I knew, however, that at
+the general's table, grapes would not be eaten without having been
+washed, but I reproached myself for not having taken the precaution
+of leaving word that Doucet recommend that they be washed thoroughly.
+Still, I don't suppose it would matter.  I couldn't see how my gift
+could be dangerous, but when I learned of little Doucet's death
+this morning, I jumped into the first train and came straight here."
+
+"But, your Excellency," interrupted Natacha, "we have not seen your
+grapes."
+
+"Ah, they have not been served yet?  All the better.  Thank
+goodness!"
+
+"The Emperor's grapes are diseased, then?" interrogated Rouletabille.
+"Phylloxera pest has got into the conservatories?"
+
+"Nothing can stop it, Doucet told me.  So he didn't want me to leave
+last evening until he had washed the grapes.  Unfortunately, I was
+pressed for time and I took them as they were, without any idea that
+the mixture they spray on the grapes to protect them was so deadly.
+It appears that in the vineyard country they have such accidents
+every year.  They call it, I think, the ... the mixture ... "
+
+"The Bordeaux mixture," was heard in Rouletabille's trembling voice
+"And do you know what it is, Your Excellency, this Bordeaux mixture?"
+
+"Why, no."
+
+At this moment the general came down the stairs, clinging to the
+banister and supported by Matrena Petrovna.
+
+"Well," continued Rouletabille, watching Natacha, "the Bordeaux
+mixture which covered the grapes you brought the general yesterday
+was nothing more nor less than arsenate of soda."
+
+"Ah, God!" cried Natacha.
+
+As for Matrena Petrovna, she uttered a low exclamation and let go
+the general, who almost fell down the staircase.  Everybody rushed.
+The general laughed.  Matrena, under the stringent look of
+Rouletabille, stammered that she had suddenly felt faint.  At last
+they were all together in the veranda.  The general settled back on
+his sofa and inquired:
+
+"Well, now, were you just saying something, my dear marshal, about
+some grapes you have brought me?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Natacha, quite frightened, "and what he said
+isn't pleasant at all.  The son of Doucet, the court gardener, has
+just been poisoned by the same grapes that monsieur le marschal,
+it appears, brought you."
+
+"Where was this?  Grapes?  What grapes?  I haven't seen any grapes!"
+exclaimed Matrena.  "I noticed you, yesterday, marshal, out in the
+garden, but you went away almost immediately, and I certainly was
+surprised that you did not come in.  What is this story?"
+
+"Well, we must clear this matter up.  It is absolutely necessary
+that we know what happened to those grapes."
+
+"Certainly," said Rouletabille, "they could cause a catastrophe."
+
+"If it has not happened already," fretted the marshal.
+
+"But how?  Where are they?  Whom did you give them to?"
+
+"I carried them in a white cardboard box, the first one that came
+to hand in Doucet's place.  I came here the first time and didn't
+find you.  I returned again with the box, and the general was just
+lying down.  I was pressed for my train and Michael Nikolaievitch
+and Boris Alexandrovitch were in the garden, so I asked them to
+execute my commission, and I laid the box down near them on the
+little garden table, telling them not to forget to tell you it was
+necessary to wash the grapes as Doucet expressly recommended."
+
+"But it is unbelievable!  It is terrible!" quavered Matrena.  "Where
+can the grapes be?  We must know."
+
+"Absolutely," approved Rouletabille.
+
+"We must ask Boris and Michael," said Natacha.  "Good God! surely
+they have not eaten them!  Perhaps they are sick."
+
+"Here they are," said the general.  All turned.  Michael and Boris
+were coming up the steps.  Rouletabille, who was in a shadowed
+corner under the main staircase, did not lose a single play of
+muscle on the two faces which for him were two problems to solve.
+Both faces were smiling; too smiling, perhaps.
+
+"Michael!  Boris!  Come here," cried Feodor Feodorovitch.  "What
+have you done with the grapes from monsieur le marechal?"
+
+They both looked at him upon this brusque interrogation, seemed not
+to understand, and then, suddenly recalling, they declared very
+naturally that they had left them on the garden table and had not
+thought about them.
+
+"You forgot my caution, then?" said Count Kaltzof severely.
+
+"What caution?" said Boris.  "Oh, yes, the washing of the grapes.
+Doucet's caution."
+
+"Do you know what has happened to Doucet with those grapes?  His
+eldest son is dead, poisoned.  Do you understand now why we are
+anxious to know what has become of my grapes?"
+
+"But they ought to be out there on the table," said Michael.
+
+"No one can find them anywhere," declared Matrena, who, no less than
+Rouletabille, watched every change in the countenances of the two
+officers.  "How did it happen that you went away yesterday evening
+without saying good-bye, without seeing us, without troubling
+yourselves whether or not the general might need you?"
+
+"Madame," said Michael, coldly, in military fashion, as though he
+replied to his superior officer himself, "we have ample excuse to
+offer you and the general.  It is necessary that we make an
+admission, and the general will pardon us, I am sure.  Boris and I,
+daring the promenade, happened to quarrel.  That quarrel was in full
+swing when we reached here and we were discussing the way to end it
+most promptly when monsieur le marechal entered the garden.  We must
+make that our excuse for giving divided attention to what he had to
+say.  As soon as he was gone we had only one thought, to get away
+from here to settle our difference with arms in our hands."
+
+"Without speaking to me about it!" interrupted Trehassof.  "I never
+will pardon that."
+
+"You fight at such a time, when the general is threatened!  It is
+as though you fought between yourselves in the face of the enemy.
+It is treason!" added  Matrena.
+
+"Madame," said Boris, "we did not fight.  Someone pointed out our
+fault, and I offered my excuses to Michael Nikolaievitch, who
+generously accepted them.  Is that not so, Michael Nikolaievitch?"
+
+"And who is this that pointed out your fault?" demanded the marshal.
+
+"Natacha."
+
+"Bravo, Natacha.  Come, embrace me, my daughter."
+
+The general pressed his daughter effusively to his broad chest.
+
+"And I hope you will not have further disputing," he cried, looking
+over Natacha's shoulder.
+
+"We promise you that, General," declared Boris.  "Our lives belong
+to you."
+
+"You did well, my love.  Let us all do as well.  I have passed an
+excellent night, messieurs.  Real sleep!  I have had just one long
+sleep."
+
+"That is so," said Matrena slowly.  "The general had no need of
+narcotic.  He slept like a child and did not touch his potion."
+
+"And my leg is almost well."
+
+"All the same, it is singular that those grapes should have
+disappeared," insisted the marshal, following his fixed idea.
+
+"Ermolai," called Matrena.
+
+The old servant appeared.
+
+"Yesterday evening, after these gentlemen had left the house, did
+you notice a small white box on the garden table?"
+
+"No, Barinia."
+
+"And the servants?  Have any of them been sick?  The dvornicks?
+The schwitzar?  In the kitchens? No one sick?  No?  Go and see; then
+come and tell me."
+
+He returned, saying, "No one sick."
+
+Like the marshal, Matrena Petrovna and Feodor Feodorovitch looked
+at one another, repeating in French, "No one sick! That is strange!"
+
+Rouletabille came forward and gave the only explanation that was
+plausible - for the others.
+
+"But, General, that is not strange at all.  The grapes have been
+stolen and eaten by some domestic, and if the servant has not been
+sick it is simply that the grapes monsieur le marechal brought
+escaped the spraying of the Bordeaux mixture.  That is the whole
+mystery."
+
+"The little fellow must be right," cried the delighted marshal.
+
+"He is always right, this little fellow," beamed Matrena, as proudly
+as though she had brought him into the world.
+
+But "the little fellow," taking advantage of the greetings as
+Athanase Georgevitch and Ivan Petrovitch arrived, left the villa,
+gripping in his pocket the phial which held what is required to make
+grapes flourish or to kill a general who is in excellent health.
+When he had gone a few hundred steps toward the bridges one must
+cross to go into the city, he was overtaken by a panting dvornick,
+who brought him a letter that had just come by courier.  The writing
+on the envelope was entirely unknown to him.  He tore it open and
+read, in excellent French:
+
+"Request to M. Joseph Rouletabille not to mix in matters that do
+not concern him.  The second warning will be the last." It was
+signed: "The Central Revolutionary Committee."
+
+"So, ho!" said Rouletabille, slipping the paper into his pocket,
+"that's the line it takes, is it!  Happily I have nothing more to
+occupy myself with at all.  It is Koupriane's turn now!  Now to go
+to Koupriane's!"
+
+On this date, Rouletabille's note-book: "Natacha to her father:
+'But you, papa, have you had a good night?  Did you take your
+narcotic?'
+
+"Fearful, and (lest I confuse heaven and hell) I have no right to
+take any further notes."*
+_____________________________________________________________________
+*As a matter of fact, after this day no more notes are found in
+Rouletabille's memorandum-book.  The last one is that above, bizarre
+and romantic, and necessary, as Sainclair, the Paris advocate and
+friend of Rouletabille, indicates opposite it in the papers from
+which we have taken all the details of this story.
+_____________________________________________________________________
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE LITILE CHAPEL OF THE GUARDS
+
+Rouletabille took a long walk which led him to the Troitsky Bridge,
+then, re-descending the Naberjnaia, he reached the Winter Palace.
+He seemed to have chased away all preoccupation, and took a child's
+pleasure in the different aspects of the life that characterizes
+the city of the Great Peter.  He stopped before the Winter Palace,
+walked slowly across the square where the prodigious monolith of
+the Alexander Column rises from its bronze socket, strolled between
+the palace and the colonnades, passed under an immense arch:
+everything seemed Cyclopean to him, and he never had felt so tiny,
+so insignificant.  None the less he was happy in his insignificance,
+he was satisfied with himself in the presence of these colossal
+things; everything pleased him this morning.  The speed of the
+isvos, the bickering humor of the osvotchicks, the elegance of the
+women, the fine presences of the officers and their easy naturalness
+under their uniforms, so opposed to the wooden posturing of the
+Berlin military men whom he had noticed at the "Tilleuls" and in
+the Friederichstrasse between two trains.  Everything enchanted him
+- the costume even of the moujiks, vivid blouses, the red shirts
+over the trousers, the full legs and the boots up to the knees,
+even the unfortunates who, in spite of the soft atmosphere, were
+muffled up in sheepskin coats, all impressed him favorably,
+everything appeared to him original and congenial.
+
+Order reigned in the city.   The guards were polite, decorative and
+superb in bearing.  The passers-by in that quarter talked gayly
+among themselves, often in French, and had manners as civilized as
+anywhere in the world.  Where, then, was the Bear of the North?  He
+never had seen bears so well licked.  Was it this very city that
+only yesterday was in revolution?   This was certainly the Alexander
+Park where troops a few weeks before had fired on children who had
+sought refuge in the trees, like sparrows.  Was this the very
+pavement where the Cossacks had left so many bodies?  Finally he
+saw before him the Nevsky Prospect, where the bullets rained like
+hail not long since upon a people dressed for festivities and very
+joyous.  Nichevo!  Nichevo!  All that was so soon forgotten.  They
+forgot yesterday as they forget to-morrow.  The Nihilists?  Poets,
+who imagined that a bomb could accomplish anything in that Babylon
+of the North more important than the noise of its explosion!  Look
+at these people who pass.  They have no more thought for the old
+attack than for those now preparing in the shadow of the "tracktirs."
+Happy men, full of serenity in this bright quarter, who move about
+their affairs and their pleasures in the purest air, the lightest,
+the most transparent on earth.  No, no; no one knows the joy of
+mere breathing if he has not breathed the air there, the finest in
+the north of the world, which gives food and drink of beautiful
+white eau-de-vie and yellow pivo, and strikes the blood and makes
+one a beast vigorous and joyful and fatalistic, and mocks at the
+Nihilists and, as well, at the ten thousand eyes of the police
+staring from under the porches of houses, from under the skulls of
+dvornicks - all police, the dvornicks; all police, also the joyous
+concierges with extended hands.  Ah, ah, one mocks at it all in
+such air, provided one has roubles in one's pockets, plenty of
+roubles, and that one is not besotted by reading those extraordinary
+books that preach the happiness of all humanity to students and to
+poor girl-students too.  Ah, ah, seed of the Nihilists, all that!
+These poor little fellows and poor little girls who have their heads
+turned by lectures that they cannot digest!  That is all the trouble,
+the digestion.  The digestion is needed.  Messieurs the commercial
+travelers for champagne, who talk together importantly in the
+lobbies of the Grand Morskaia Hotel and who have studied the Russian
+people even in the most distant cities where champagne is sold, will
+tell you that over any table of hors-d'oeuvres, and will regulate
+the whole question of the Revolution between two little glasses of
+vodka, swallowed properly, quickly, elbow up, at a single draught,
+in the Russian manner.  Simply an affair of digestion, they tell
+you.  Who is the fool that would dare compare a young gentleman who
+has well digested a bottle of champagne or two, and another young
+man who has poorly digested the lucubrations of, who shall we say?
+- the lucubrations of the economists?  The economists?  The
+economists!  Fools who compete which can make the most violent
+statements!  Those who read them and don't understand them go off
+like a bomb!  Your health!  Nichevo!  The world goes round still,
+doesn't it?
+
+Discussion political, economic, revolutionary, and other in the
+room where they munch hors-d'oeuvres!  You will hear it all as you
+pass through the hotel to your chamber, young Rouletabille.  Get
+quickly now to the home of Koupriane, if you don't wish to arrive
+there at luncheon-time; then you would have to put off these serious
+affairs until evening.
+
+The Department of Police.  Massive entrance, heavily guarded, a
+great lobby, halls with swinging doors, many obsequious schwitzars
+on the lookout for tips, many poor creatures sitting against the
+walls on dirty benches, desks and clerks, brilliant boots and
+epaulets of gay young officers who are telling tales of the Aquarium
+with great relish.
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille!   Ah, yes.  Please be seated.  Delighted,
+M. Koupriane will be very happy to receive you, but just at this
+moment he is at inspection.  Yes, the inspection of the police
+dormitories in the barracks.  We will take you there.  His own idea!
+He doesn't neglect anything, does he?  A great Chief.  Have you seen
+the police-guards' dormitory?  Admirable!  The first dormitories of
+the world.  We say that without wishing to offend France.  We love
+France.  A great nation!  I will take you immediately to M.
+Koupriane.  I shall be delighted."
+
+"I also," said Rouletabille, who put a rouble into the honorable
+functionary's hand.
+
+"Permit me to precede you."
+
+Bows and salutes.  For two roubles he would have walked obsequiously
+before him to the end of the world.
+
+"These functionaries are admirable," thought Rouletabille as he was
+led to the barracks.  He felt he had not paid too much for the
+services of a personage whose uniform was completely covered with
+lace.  They tramped, they climbed, they descended.  Stairways,
+corridors.  Ah, the barracks at last.  He seemed to have entered a
+convent.  Beds very white, very narrow, and images of the Virgin
+and saints everywhere, monastic neatness and the most absolute
+silence.  Suddenly an order sounded in the corridor outside, and
+the police-guard, who sprang from no one could tell where, stood
+to attention at the head of their beds.  Koupriane and his aide
+appeared.  Koupriane looked at everything closely, spoke to each
+man in turn, called them by their names, inquired about their
+needs, and the men stammered replies, not knowing what to answer,
+reddening like children.  Koupriane observed Rouletabille.  He
+dismissed his aide with a gesture.  The inspection was over.  He
+drew the young man into a little room just off the dormitory.
+Rouletabille, frightened, looked about him.  He found himself in a
+chapel.  This little chapel completed the effect of the guards'
+dormitory.  It was all gilded, decorated in marvelous colors,
+thronged with little ikons that bring happiness, and, naturally,
+with the portrait of the Tsar, the dear Little Father.
+
+"You see," said Koupriane, smiling at Rouletabille's amazement,
+"we deny them nothing.  We give them their saints right here in
+their quarters."  Closing the door, he drew a chair toward
+Rouletabille and motioned him to sit down.  They sat before the
+little altar loaded with flowers, with colored paper and winged
+saints.
+
+"We can talk here without being disturbed," he said.  "Yonder there
+is such a crowd of people waiting for me.  I'm ready to listen."
+
+"Monsieur," said Rouletabille, "I have come to give you the report
+of my mission here, and to terminate my connection with it.  All
+that is left for clearing this obscure affair is to arrest the
+guilty person, with which I have nothing to do.  That concerns you.
+I simply inform you that someone tried to poison the general last
+night by pouring arsenate of soda into his sleeping-potion, which
+I bring you in this phial, arsenate which was secured most probably
+by washing it from grapes brought to General Trebassof by the
+marshal of the court, and which disappeared without anyone being
+able to say how."
+
+"Ah, ah, a family affair, a plot within the family.  I told you
+so," murmured Koupriane.
+
+"The affair at least has happened within the family, as you think,
+although the assassin came from outside.  Contrary to what you may
+be able to believe, he does not live in the house."
+
+"Then how does he get there?" demanded Koupriane.
+
+"By the window of the room overlooking the Neva.  He has often come
+that way.  And that is the way he returns also, I am sure.  It is
+there you can take him if you act with prudence."
+
+"How do you know he often comes that way?"
+
+"You know the height of the window above the little roadway.  To
+reach it he uses a water-trough, whose iron rings are bent, and
+also the marks of a grappling-iron that he carries with him and
+uses to hoist himself to the window are distinctly visible on the
+ironwork of the little balcony outside.  The marks are quite
+obviously of different dates"
+
+"But that window is closed."
+
+"Someone opens it for him."
+
+"Who, if you please?"
+
+"I have no desire to know."
+
+"Eh, yes.  It necessarily is Natacha.  I was sure that the Villa
+des Iles had its viper.  I tell you she doesn't dare leave her nest
+because she knows she is watched.  Not one of her movements outside
+escapes us!  She knows it.  She has been warned.  The last time she
+ventured outside alone was to go into the old quarters of Derewnia.
+What has she to do in such a rotten quarter?  I ask you that.  And
+she turned in her tracks without seeing anyone, without knocking
+at a single door, because she saw that she was followed.  She isn't
+able to get to see them outside, therefore she has to see them
+inside."
+
+"They are only one, and always the same one."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"An examination of the marks on the wall and on the pipe doesn't
+leave any doubt of it, and it is always the same grappling-iron
+that is used for the window."
+
+"The viper!"
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, Mademoiselle Natacha seems to preoccupy you
+exceedingly.  I did not come here to talk about Mademoiselle
+Natacha.  I came to point out to you the route used by the man who
+comes to do the murder."
+
+"Eh, yes, it is she who opens the way."
+
+"I can't deny that."
+
+"The little demon!  Why does she take him into her room at night?
+Do you think perhaps there is some love-affair...?"
+
+"I am sure of quite the opposite."
+
+"I too.  Natacha is not a wanton.  Natacha has no heart.  She has
+only a brain.  And it doesn't take long for a brain touched by
+Nihilism to get so it won't hesitate at anything."
+
+Koupriane reflected a minute, while Rouletabille watched him in
+silence.
+
+"Have we solely to do with Nihilism?" resumed Koupriane.
+"Everything you tell me inclines me more and more to my idea: a
+family affair, purely in the family.  You know, don't you, that
+upon the general's death Natacha will be immensely rich?"
+
+"Yes, I know it," replied Rouletabille, in a voice that sounded
+singular to the ear of the Chief of Police and which made him raise
+his head.
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+"I?  Nothing," replied the reporter, this time in a firmer tone.
+"I ought, however, to say this to you: I am sure that we are dealing
+with Nihilism..."
+
+"What makes you believe it?"
+
+"This."
+
+And Rouletabille handed Koupriane the message he had received that
+same morning.
+
+"Oh, oh," cried Koupriane.  "You are under watch!  Look out."
+
+"I have nothing to fear; I'm not bothering myself about anything
+further.  Yes, we have an affair of the revolutionaries, but not of
+the usual kind.  The way they are going about it isn't like one of
+their young men that the Central Committee arms with a bomb and who
+is sacrificed in advance."
+
+"Where are the tracks that you have traced?"
+
+"Right up to the little Krestowsky Villa."
+
+Koupriane bounded from his chair.
+
+"Occupied by Boris.  Parbleu!  Now we have them.  I see it all now.
+Boris, another cracked brain!  And he is engaged.  If he plays the
+part of the Revolutionaries, the affair would work out big for him."
+
+"That villa," said Rouletabille quietly, "is also occupied by Michael
+Korosakoff."
+
+"He is the most loyal, the most reliable soldier of the Tsar."
+
+"No one is ever sure of anything, my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+"Oh, I am sure of a man like that."
+
+"No man is ever sure of any man, my dear Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+"I am, in every case, for those I employ."
+
+"You are wrong."
+
+"What do you say?"
+
+"Something that can serve you in the enterprise you are going to
+undertake, because I trust you can catch the murderer right in his
+nest.  To do that, I'll not conceal from you that I think your
+agents will have to be enormously clever.  They will have to watch
+the datcha des Iles at night, without anyone possibly suspecting it.
+No more maroon coats with false astrakhan trimmings, eh?  But
+Apaches, Apaches on the wartrail, who blend themselves with the
+ground, with the trees, with the stones in the roadway.  But among
+those Apaches don't send that agent of your Secret Service who
+watched the window while the assassin climbed to it."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Why, these climbs that you can read the proofs of on the wall and
+on the iron forgings of the balcony went on while your agents, night
+and day, were watching the villa.  Have you noticed, monsieur, that
+it was always the same agent who took the post at night, behind the
+villa, under the window?  General Trebassof's book in which he kept
+a statement of the exact disposal of each of your men during the
+period of siege was most instructive on that point.  The other posts
+changed in turn, but the same agent, when he was among the guard,
+demanded always that same post, which was not disputed by anybody,
+since it is no fun to pass the hours of the night behind a wall, in
+an empty field.  The others much preferred to roll away the time
+watching in the villa or in front of the lodge, where vodka and
+Crimean wine, kwass and pivo, kirsch and tchi, never ran short.
+That agent's name is Touman."
+
+"Touman!  Impossible!  He is one of the best agents from Kiew.  He
+was recommended by Gounsovski."
+
+Rouletabille chuckled.
+
+"Yes, yes, yes," grumbled the Chief of Police.  "Someone always
+laughs when his name is mentioned."
+
+Koupriane had turned red.  He rose, opened the door, gave a long
+direction in Russian, and returned to his chair.
+
+"Now," said he, "go ahead and tell me all the details of the poison
+and the grapes the marshal of the court brought.  I'm listening."
+
+Rouletabille told him very briefly and without drawing any deductions
+all that we already know.  He ended his account as a man dressed in
+a maroon coat with false astrakhan was introduced.  It was the same
+man Rouletabille had met in General Trebassof's drawing-room and who
+spoke French.  Two gendarmes were behind him.  The door had been
+closed.  Koupriane turned toward the man in the coat.
+
+"Touman," he said, "I want to talk to you.  You are a traitor, and
+I have proof.  You can confess to me, and I will give you a thousand
+roubles and you can take yourself off to be hanged somewhere else."
+
+The man's eyes shrank, but he recovered himself quickly.  He replied
+in Russian.
+
+"Speak French.  I order it," commanded Koupriane.
+
+"I answer, Your Excellency," said Touman firmly, "that I don't
+know what Your Excellency means."
+
+"I mean that you have helped a man get into the Trebassof villa by
+night when you were on guard under the window of the little
+sitting-room.  You see that there is no use deceiving us any longer.
+I play with you frankly, good play, good money.  The name of that
+man, and you have a thousand roubles."
+
+"I am ready to swear on the ikon of..."
+
+"Don't perjure yourself."
+
+"I have always loyally served..."
+
+"The name of that man."
+
+"I still don't know yet what Your Excellency means."
+
+"Oh, you understand me," replied Koupriane, who visibly held in an
+anger that threatened to break forth any moment.  "A man got into
+the house while you were watching..."
+
+"I never saw anything.  After all, it is possible.  There were some
+very dark nights.  I went back and forth."
+
+"You are not a fool.  The name of that man."
+
+"I assure you, Excellency..."
+
+"Strip him."
+
+"What are you going to do?" cried Rouletabille.
+
+But already the two guards had thrown themselves on Touman and had
+drawn off his coat and shirt.  The man was bare to the waist.
+
+"What are you going to do?  What are you going to do?"
+
+"Leave them alone," said Koupriane, roughly pushing Rouletabille
+back.
+
+Seizing a whip which hung at the waist of the guards he struck
+Touman a blow across the shoulders that drew blood.  Touman, mad
+with the outrage and the pain, shouted, "Yes, it is true!  I brag
+of it!"
+
+Koupriane did not restrain his rage.  He showered the unhappy man
+with blows, having thrown Rouletabille to the end of the room when
+he tried to interfere.  And while he proceeded with the punishment
+the Chief of Police hurled at the agent who had betrayed him an
+accompaniment of fearful threats, promising him that before he was
+hanged he should rot in the bottom-most dungeon of Peter and Paul,
+in the slimy pits lying under the Neva.  Touman, between the two
+guards who held him, and who sometimes received blows on the rebound
+that were not intended for them, never uttered a complaint.  Outside
+the invectives of Koupriane there was heard only the swish of the
+cords and the cries of Rouletabille, who continued to protest that
+it was abominable, and called the Chief of Police a savage.  Finally
+the savage stopped.  Gouts of blood had spattered all about.
+
+"Monsieur," said Rouletabille, who supported himself against the
+wall.  "I shall complain to the Tsar."
+
+"You are right," Koupriane replied, "but I feel relieved now.  You
+can't imagine the harm this man can have done to us in the weeks
+he has been here."
+
+Touman, across whose shoulders they had thrown his coat and who
+lay now across a chair, found strength to look up and say:
+
+"It is true.  You can't do me as much harm as I have done you,
+whether you think so or not.  All the harm that can be done me
+by you and yours is already accomplished.  My name is not Touman,
+but Matiev.  Listen.  I had a son that was the light of my eyes.
+Neither my son nor I had ever been concerned with politics.  I was
+employed in Moscow.  My son was a student.  During the Red Week we
+went out, my son and I, to see a little of what was happening over
+in the Presnia quarter.  They said everybody had been killed over
+there!  We passed before the Presnia gate.  Soldiers called to us
+to stop because they wished to search us.  We opened our coats.
+The soldiers saw my son's student waistcoat and set up a cry.  They
+unbuttoned the vest, drew a note-book out of his pocket and they
+found a workman's song in it that had been published in the Signal.
+The soldiers didn't know how to read.  They believed the paper was
+a proclamation, and they arrested my son.  I demanded to be arrested
+with him.  They pushed me away.  I ran to the governor's house.
+Trebassof had me thrust away from his door with blows from the
+butt-ends of his Cossacks' guns.  And, as I persisted, they kept me
+locked up all that night and the morning of the next day.  At noon
+I was set free.  I demanded my son and they replied they didn't know
+what I was talking about.  But a soldier that I recognized as having
+arrested my son the evening before pointed out a van that was passing,
+covered with a tarpaulin and surrounded by Cossacks.  'Your son is
+there,' he said; 'they are taking him to the graves.' Mad with
+despair, I ran after the van.  It went to the outskirts of
+Golountrine cemetery.  There I saw in the white snow a huge grave,
+wide, deep.  I shall see it to my last minute.  Two vans had already
+stopped near the hole.  Each van held thirteen corpses.  The vans
+were dumped into the trench and the soldiers commenced to sort the
+bodies into rows of six.  I watched for my son.  At last I recognized
+him in a body that half hung over the edge of the trench.  Horrors
+of suffering were stamped in the expression of his face.  I threw
+myself beside him.  I said that I was his father.  They let me
+embrace him a last time and count his wounds.  He had fourteen.
+Someone had stolen the gold chain that had hung about his neck and
+held the picture of his mother, who died the year before.  I
+whispered into his ear, I swore to avenge him.  Forty-eight hours
+later I had placed myself at the disposition of the Revolutionary
+Committee.  A week had not passed before Touman, whom, it seems,
+I resemble and who was one of the Secret Service agents in Kiew,
+was assassinated in the train that was taking him to St. Petersburg.
+The assassination was kept a secret.  I received all his papers and
+I took his place with you.  I was doomed beforehand and I asked
+nothing better, so long as I might last until after the execution
+of Trebassof.  Ah, how I longed to kill him with my own hands!  But
+another had already been assigned the duty and my role was to help
+him.  And do you suppose I am going to tell you the name of that
+other?  Never!  And if you discover that other, as you have
+discovered me, another will come, and another, and another, until
+Trebassof has paid for his crimes.  That is all I have to say to
+you, Koupriane.  As for you, my little fellow," added he, turning
+to Rouletabille, "I wouldn't give much for your bones.  Neither of
+you will last long.  That is my consolation."
+
+Koupriane had not interrupted the man.  He looked at him in silence,
+sadly.
+
+"You know, my poor man, you will be hanged now?" he said.
+
+"No," growled Rouletabille.  "Monsieur Koupriane, I'll bet you my
+purse that he will not be hanged."
+
+"And why not?" demanded the Chief of rolice, while, upon a sign
+from him, they took away the false Touman.
+
+"Because it is I who denounced him."
+
+"What a reason!  And what would you like me to do?"
+
+"Guard him for me; for me alone, do you understand?"
+
+"In exchange for what?"
+
+"In exchange for the life of General Trebassof, if I must put it
+that way."
+
+"Eh?  The life of General Trebassof!  You speak as if it belonged
+to you, as if you could dispose of it."
+
+Rouletabille laid his hand on Koupriane's arm.
+
+"Perhaps that's so," said he.
+
+"Would you like me to tell you one thing, Monsieur Rouletabille?
+It is that General Trebassof's life, after what has just escaped
+the lips of this Touman, who is not Touman, isn't worth any more
+than - than yours if you remain here.  Since you are disposed not
+to do anything more in this affair, take the train, monsieur, take
+the train, and go."
+
+Rouletabille walked back and forth, very much worked up; then
+suddenly he stopped short.
+
+"Impossible," he said.  "It is impossible.  I cannot; I am not able
+to go yet."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Good God, Monsieur Koupriane, because I have to interview the
+President of the Duma yet, and complete my little inquiry into the
+politics of the cadets."
+
+"Oh, indeed!"
+
+Koupriane looked at him with a sour grin.
+
+"What are you going to do with that man?" demanded Rouletabille.
+
+"Have him fixed up first."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then take him before the judges."
+
+"That is to say, to the gallows?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, I offer it to you again.  Life for life.  Give
+me the life of that poor devil and I promise you General Trebassof's."
+
+"Explain yourself."
+
+"Not at all.  Do you promise me that you will maintain silence
+about the case of that man and that you will not touch a hair of
+his head?"
+
+Koupriane looked at Rouletabille as he had looked at him during the
+altercation they had on the edge of the Gulf.  He decided the same
+way this time.
+
+"Very well," said he.  "You have my word.  The poor devil!"
+
+"You are a brave man, Monsieur Koupriane, but a little quick with
+the whip..."
+
+"What would you expect?  One's work teaches that."
+
+"Good morning.  No, don't trouble to show me out.  I am compromised
+enough already," said Rouletabille, laughing.
+
+"Au revoir, and good luck!  Get to work interviewing the President
+of the Duma," added Koupriane knowingly, with a great laugh.
+
+But Rouletabille was already gone.
+
+"That lad," said the Chief of Police aloud to himself, "hasn't told
+me a bit of what he knows."
+
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+ANNOUCHKA
+
+"And now it's between us two, Natacha," murmured Rouletabille as
+soon as he was outside.  He hailed the first carriage that passed
+and gave the address of the datcha des Iles.  When he got in he
+held his head between his hands; his face burned, his jaws were set.
+But by a prodigious effort of his will he resumed almost instantly
+his calm, his self-control.  As he went back across the Neva, across
+the bridge where he had felt so elated a little while before, and
+saw the isles again he sighed heavily.  "I thought I had got it all
+over with, so far as I was concerned, and now I don't know where it
+will stop."  His eyes grew dark for a moment with somber thoughts
+and the vision of the Lady in Black rose before him; then he shook
+his head, filled his pipe, lighted it, dried a tear that had been
+caused doubtless by a little smoke in his eye, and stopped
+sentimentalizing.  A quarter of an hour later he gave a true Russian
+nobleman's fist-blow in the back to the coachman as an intimation
+that they had reached the Trebassof villa.  A charming picture was
+before him.  They were all lunching gayly in the garden, around the
+table in the summer-house.  He was astonished, however, at not
+seeing Natacha with them.  Boris Mourazoff and Michael Korsakoff
+were there.  Rouletabille did not wish to be seen.  He made a sign
+to Ermolai, who was passing through the garden and who hurried to
+meet him at the gate.
+
+"The Barinia," said the reporter, in a low voice and with his finger
+to his lips to warn the faithful attendant to caution.
+
+In two minutes Matrena Petrovna joined Rouletabille in the lodge.
+
+"Well, where is Natacha?" he demanded hurriedly as she kissed his
+hands quite as though she had made an idol of him.
+
+"She has gone away.  Yes, out.  Oh, I did not keep her.  I did not
+try to hold her back.  Her expression frightened me, you can
+understand, my little angel.  My, you are impatient!  What is it
+about?  How do we stand?  What have you decided?  I am your slave.
+Command me.  Command me.  The keys of the villa?"
+
+"Yes, give me a key to the veranda; you must have several.  I must
+be able to get into the house to-night if it becomes necessary."
+
+She drew a key from her gown, gave it to the young man and said a
+few words in Russian to Ermolai, to enforce upon him that he must
+obey the little domovoi-doukh in anything, day or night.
+
+"Now tell me where Natacha has gone."
+
+"Boris's parents came to see us a little while ago, to inquire after
+the general.  They have taken Natacha away with them, as they often
+have done.  Natacha went with them readily enough.  Little domovoi,
+listen to me, listen to Matrena Petrovna -  Anyone would have said
+she was expecting it!"
+
+"Then she has gone to lunch at their house?"
+
+"Doubtless, unless they have gone to a cafe.  I don't know.  Boris's
+father likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine.
+Calm yourself, little domovoi.  What ails you?  Bad news, eh?  Any
+bad news?"
+
+"No, no; everything is all right.  Quick, the address of Boris's
+family."
+
+"The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la
+Poste."
+
+"Good.  Thank you.  Adieu."
+
+He started for the Place St. Isaac, and picked up an interpreter at
+the Grand Morskaia Hotel on the way.  It might be useful to have him.
+At the Place St. Isaac he learned the Morazoffs and Natacha Trebassof
+had gone by train for luncheon at Bergalowe, one of the nearby
+stations in Finland.
+
+"That is all," said he, and added apart to himself, "And perhaps that
+is not true."
+
+He paid the coachman and the interpreter, and lunched at the
+Brasserie de Vienne nearby.  He left there a half-hour later, much
+calmer.  He took his way to the Grand Morskaia Hotel, went inside
+and asked the schwitzar:
+
+"Can you give me the address of Mademoiselle Annouchka?"
+
+"The singer of the Krestowsky?"
+
+"That is who I mean."
+
+"She had luncheon here.  She has just gone away with the prince."
+
+Without any curiosity as to which prince, Rouletabille cursed his
+luck and again asked for her address.
+
+"Why, she lives in an apartment just across the way."
+
+Rouletabille, feeling better, crossed the street, followed by the
+interpreter that he had engaged.  Across the way he learned on the
+landing of the first floor that Mademoiselle Annouchka was away for
+the day.  He descended, still followed by his interpreter, and
+recalling how someone had told him that in Russia it was always
+profitable to be generous, he gave five roubles to the interpreter
+and asked him for some information about Mademoiselle Annouchka's
+life in St.  Petersburg.  The interpreter whispered:
+
+"She arrived a week ago, but has not spent a single night in her
+apartment over there."
+
+He pointed to the house they had just left, and added:
+
+"Merely her address for the police."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, "I understand.  She sings this
+evening, doesn't she?"
+
+"Monsieur, it will be a wonderful debut."
+
+"Yes, yes, I know.  Thanks."
+
+All these frustrations in the things he had undertaken that day
+instead of disheartening him plunged him deep into hard thinking.
+He returned, his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, to the
+Place St. Isaac, walked around the church, keeping an eye on the
+house at the corner, investigated the monument, went inside,
+examined all its details, came out marveling, and finally went once
+again to the residence of the Mourazoffs, was told that they had
+not yet returned from the Finland town, then went and shut himself
+in his room at the hotel, where he smoked a dozen pipes of tobacco.
+He emerged from his cloud of smoke at dinner-time.
+
+At ten that evening he stepped out of his carriage before the
+Krestowsky.  The establishment of Krestowsky, which looms among the
+Isles much as the Aquarium does, is neither a theater, nor a
+music-hall, nor a cafe-concert, nor a restaurant, nor a public
+garden; it is all of these and some other things besides.  Summer
+theater, winter theater, open-air theater, hall for spectacles,
+scenic mountain, exercise-ground, diversions of all sorts, garden
+promenades, cafes, restaurants, private dining-rooms, everything is
+combined here that can amuse, charm, lead to the wildest orgies, or
+provide those who never think of sleep till toward three or four
+o'clock of a morning the means to await the dawn with patience.  The
+most celebrated companies of the old and the new world play there
+amid an enthusiasm that is steadily maintained by the foresight of
+the managers: Russian and foreign dancers, and above all the French
+chanteuses, the little dolls of the cafes-concerts, so long as they
+are young, bright, and elegantly dressed, may meet their fortune
+there.  If there is no such luck, they are sure at least to find
+every evening some old beau, and often some officer, who willingly
+pays twenty-five roubles for the sole pleasure of having a demoiselle
+born on the banks of the Seine for his companion at the supper-table.
+After their turn at the singing, these women display their graces and
+their eager smiles in the promenades of the garden or among the
+tables where the champagne-drinkers sit.  The head-liners, naturally,
+are not driven to this wearying perambulation, but can go away to
+their rest if they are so inclined.  However, the management is
+appreciative if they accept the invitation of some dignitary of the
+army, of administration, or of finance, who seeks the honor of
+hearing from the chanteuse, in a private room and with a company of
+friends not disposed to melancholy, the Bohemian songs of the Vieux
+Derevnia.  They sing, they loll, they talk of Paris, and above all
+they drink.  If sometimes the little fete ends rather roughly, it
+is the friendly and affectionate champagne that is to blame, but
+usually the orgies remain quite innocent, of a character that
+certainly might trouble the temperance societies but need not make
+M. le Senateur Berenger feel involved.
+
+A war whose powder fumes reeked still, a revolution whose last
+defeated growls had not died away at the period of these events,
+had not at all diminished the nightly gayeties of Kretowsky.  Many
+of the young men who displayed their uniforms that evening and
+called their "Nichevo" along the brilliantly lighted paths of the
+public gardens, or filled the open-air tables, or drank vodka at
+the buffets, or admired the figures of the wandering soubrettes,
+had come here on the eve of their departure for the war and had
+returned with the same child-like, enchanted smile, the same ideal
+of futile joy, and kissed their passing comrades as gayly as ever.
+Some of them had a sleeve lying limp now, or walked with a crutch,
+or even on a wooden leg, but it was, all the same, "Nichevo!"
+
+The crowd this evening was denser than ordinarily, because there
+was the chance to hear Annouchka again for the first time since the
+somber days of Moscow.  The students were ready to give her an
+ovation, and no one opposed it, because, after all, if she sang now
+it was because the police were willing at last.  If the Tsar's
+government had granted her her life, it was not in order to compel
+her to die of hunger.  Each earned a livelihood as was possible.
+Annouchka only knew how to sing and dance, and so she must sing
+and dance!
+
+When Rouletabille entered the Krestowsky Gardens, Annouchka had
+commenced her number, which ended with a tremendous "Roussalka."
+Surrounded by a chorus of male and female dancers in the national
+dress and with red boots, striking tambourines with their fingers,
+then suddenly taking a rigid pose to let the young woman's voice,
+which was of rather ordinary register, come out, Annouchka had
+centered the attention of the immense audience upon herself.  All
+the other parts of the establishment were deserted, the tables had
+been removed, and a panting crowd pressed about the open-air theater.
+Rouletabille stood up on his chair at the moment tumultuous "Bravos"
+sounded from a group of students.  Annouchka bowed toward them,
+seeming to ignore the rest of the audience, which had not dared
+declare itself yet.  She sang the old peasant songs arranged to
+present-day taste, and interspersed them with dances.  They had an
+enormous success, because she gave her whole soul to them and sang
+with her voice sometimes caressing, sometimes menacing, and
+sometimes magnificently desperate, giving much significance to
+words which on paper had not aroused the suspicions of the censor.
+The taste of the day was obviously still a taste for the revolution,
+which retained its influence on the banks of the Neva.  What she
+was doing was certainly very bold, and apparently she realized how
+audacious she was, because, with great adroitness, she would bring
+out immediately after some dangerous phrase a patriotic couplet
+which everybody was anxious to applaud.  She succeeded by such means
+in appealing to all the divergent groups of her audience and secured
+a complete triumph for herself.  The students, the revolutionaries,
+the radicals and the cadets acclaimed the singer, glorifying not
+only her art but also and beyond everything else the sister of the
+engineer Volkousky, who had been doomed to perish with her brother
+by the bullets of the Semenovsky regiment.  The friends of the
+Court on their side could not forget that it was she who, in front
+of the Kremlin, had struck aside the arm of Constantin Kochkarof,
+ordered by the Central Revolutionary Committee to assassinate the
+Grand Duke Peter Alexandrovitch as he drove up to the governor's
+house in his sleigh.  The bomb burst ten feet away, killing
+Constantin Kochkarof himself.  It may be that before death came he
+had time to hear Annouchka cry to him, "Wretch!  You were told to
+kill the prince, not to assassinate his children."  As it happened,
+Peter Alexandrovitch held on his knees the two little princesses,
+seven and eight years old.  The Court had wished to recompense her
+for that heroic act.  Annouchka had spit at the envoy of the Chief
+of Police who called to speak to her of money.  At the Hermitage in
+Moscow, where she sang then, some of her admirers had warned her of
+possible reprisals on the part of the revolutionaries.  But the
+revolutionaries gave her assurance at once that she had nothing to
+fear.  They approved her act and let her know that they now counted
+on her to kill the Grand Duke some time when he was alone; which
+had made Annouchka laugh.  She was an enfant terrible, whose friends
+no one knew, who passed for very wise, and whose lines of intrigue
+were inscrutable.  She enjoyed making her hosts in the private
+supper-rooms quake over their meal.  One day she had said bluntly
+to one of the most powerful tchinovnicks of Moscow:  "You, my old
+friend, you are president of the Black Hundred.  Your fate is sealed.
+Yesterday you were condemned to death by the delegates of the Central
+Committee at Presnia.  Say your prayers."  The man reached for
+champagne.  He never finished his glass.  The dvornicks carried him
+out stricken with apoplexy.  Since the time she saved the little
+grand-duchesses the police had orders to allow her to act and talk
+as she pleased.  She had been mixed up in the deepest plots against
+the government.  Those who lent the slightest countenance to such
+plottings and were not of the police simply disappeared.  Their
+friends dared not even ask for news of them.  The only thing not in
+doubt about them was that they were at hard labor somewhere in the
+mines of the Ural Mountains.  At the moment of the revolution
+Annouchka had a brother who was an engineer on the Kasan-Moscow line.
+This Volkousky was one of the leaders on the Strike Committee.  The
+authorities had an eye on him.  The revolution started.  He, with
+the help of his sister, accomplished one of those formidable acts
+which will carry their memory as heroes to the farthest posterity.
+Their work accomplished, they were taken by Trebassof's soldiers.
+Both were condemned to death.  Volkousky was executed first, and
+the sister was taking her turn when an officer of the government
+arrived on horseback to stop the firing.  The Tsar, informed of her
+intended fate, had sent a pardon by telegraph.  After that she
+disappeared.  She was supposed to have gone on some tour across
+Europe, as was her habit, for she spoke all the languages, like a
+true Bohemian.  Now she had reappeared in all her joyous glory at
+Krestowsky.  It was certain, however, that she had not forgotten her
+brother.  Gossips said that if the government and the police showed
+themselves so long-enduring they found it to their interest to do
+so.  The open, apparent life Annouchka led was less troublesome to
+them than her hidden activities would be.  The lesser police who
+surrounded the Chief of the St. Petersburg Secret Service, the
+famous Gounsovski, had meaning smiles when the matter was discussed.
+Among them Annouchka had the ignoble nickname, "Stool-pigeon."
+
+Rouletabille must have been well aware of all these particulars
+concerning Annoucbka, for he betrayed no astonishment at the great
+interest and the strong emotion she aroused.  From the corner
+where he was he could see only a bit of the stage, and he was
+standing on tiptoes to see the singer when he felt his coat pulled.
+He turned.  It was the jolly advocate, well known for his gastronomic
+feats, Athanase Georgevitch, along with the jolly Imperial councilor,
+Ivan Petrovitch, who motioned him to climb down.
+
+"Come with us; we have a box."
+
+Rouletabille did not need urging, and he was soon installed in the
+front of a box where he could see the stage and the public both.
+Just then the curtain fell on the first part of Annouchka's
+performance.  The friends were soon rejoined by Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, the great timber-merchant, who came from behind the
+scenes.
+
+"I have been to see the beautiful Onoto," announced the Lithuanian
+with a great satisfied laugh.  "Tell me the news.  All the girls
+are sulking over Annouchka's success."
+
+"Who dragged you into the Onoto's dressing-room then?  demanded
+Athanase.
+
+"Oh, Gounsovski himself, my dear.  He is very amateurish, you know."
+
+"What!  do you knock around with Gounsovski?"
+
+"On my word, I tell you, dear friends, he isn't a bad acquaintance.
+He did me a little service at Bakou last year.  A good acquaintance
+in these times of public trouble."
+
+"You are in the oil business now, are you?"
+
+"Oh, yes, a little of everything for a livelihood.  I have a little
+well down Bakou way, nothing big; and a little house, a very small
+one for my small business."
+
+"What a monopolist Thaddeus is," declared Athanase Georgevitch,
+hitting him a formidable slap on the thigh with his enormous hand.
+"Gounsovski has come himself to keep an eye on Annouchka's debut,
+eh?  Only he goes into Onoto's dressing-room, the rogue."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't trouble himself.  Do you know who he is to have
+supper with?  With Annouchka, my dears, and we are invited."
+
+"How's that?" inquired the jovial councilor.
+
+"It seems Gounsovski influenced the minister to permit Annouchka's
+performance by declaring he would be responsible for it all.  He
+required from Annouchka solely that she have supper with him on the
+evening of her debut."
+
+"And Annouchka consented?"
+
+"That was the condition, it seems.  For that matter, they say that
+Annouchka and Gounsovski don't get along so badly together.
+Gounsovski has done Annouchka many a good turn.  They say he is in
+love with her."
+
+"He has the air of an umbrella merchant," snorted Athanase
+Georgevitch.
+
+"Have you seen him at close range?" inquired Ivan.
+
+"I have dined at his house, though it is nothing to boast of, on
+my word."
+
+"That is what he said," replied Thaddeus.  "When he knew we were
+here together, he said to me: 'Bring him, he is a charming fellow
+who plies a great fork; and bring that dear man Ivan Petrovitch,
+and all your friends.'"
+
+"Oh, I only dined at his house," grumbled Athanase, "because there
+was a favor he was going to do me."
+
+"He does services for everybody, that man," observed Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"Of course, of course; he ought to," retorted Athanase.  "What is
+a chief of Secret Service for if not to do things for everybody?
+For everybody, my dear friends, and a little for himself besides.
+A chief of Secret Service has to be in with everybody, with
+everybody and his father, as La Fontaine says (if you know that
+author), if he wants to hold his place.  You know what I mean."
+
+Athanase laughed loudly, glad of the chance to show how French he
+could be in his allusions, and looked at Rouletabille to see if he
+had been able to catch the tone of the conversation; but Rouletabille
+was too much occupied in watching a profile wrapped in a mantilla
+of black lace, in the Spanish fashion, to repay Athanase's
+performance with a knowing smile.
+
+"You certainly have naive notions.  You think a chief of Secret
+Police should be an ogre," replied the advocate as he nodded here
+and there to his friends.
+
+"Why, certainly not.  He needs to be a sheep in a place like that,
+a thorough sheep.  Gounsovski is soft as a sheep.  The time I dined
+with him he had mutton streaked with fat.  He is just like that.  I
+am sure he is mainly layers of fat.  When you shake hands you feel
+as though you had grabbed a piece of fat.  My word!  And when he
+eats he wags his jaw fattishly.  His head is like that, too; bald,
+you know, with a cranium like fresh lard.  He speaks softly and looks
+at you like a kid looking to its mother for a juicy meal."
+
+"But - why - it is Natacha!" murmured the lips of the young man.
+
+"Certainly it is Natacha, Natacha herself," exclaimed Ivan
+Petrovitch, who had used his glasses the better to see whom the
+young French journalist was looking at.  "Ah, the dear child!
+she has wanted to see Annouchka for a long time."
+
+"What, Natacha!  So it is.  So it is.  Natacha!  Natacha!" said the
+others.  "And with Boris Mourazoff's parents."
+
+"But Boris is not there," sniggered Thaddeus Tehitchnikoff.
+
+"Oh, he can't be far away.  If he was there we would see Michael
+Korsakoff too.  They keep close on each other's heels."
+
+"How has she happened to leave the general?  She said she couldn't
+bear to be away from him."
+
+"Except to see Annouchka," replied Ivan.  "She wanted to see her,
+and talked so about it when I was there that even Feodor Feodorovitch
+was rather scandalized at her and Matrena Petrovna reproved her
+downright rudely.  But what a girl wishes the gods bring about.
+That's the way."
+
+"That's so, I know," put in Athanase.  "Ivan Petrovitch is right.
+Natacha hasn't been able to hold herself in since she read that
+Annouchka was going to make her debut at Krestowsky.  She said
+she wasn't going to die without having seen the great artist."
+
+"Her father had almost drawn her away from that crowd," affirmed
+Ivan, "and that was as it should be.  She must have fixed up this
+affair with Boris and his parents."
+
+"Yes, Feodor certainly isn't aware that his daughter's idea was to
+applaud the heroine of Kasan station.  She is certainly made of
+stern stuff, my word," said Athanase.
+
+"Natacha, you must remember, is a student," said Thaddeus, shaking
+his head; "a true student.  They have misfortunes like that now in
+so many families.  I recall, apropos of what Ivan said just now,
+how today she asked Michael Korsakoff, before me, to let her know
+where Annouchka would sing.  More yet, she said she wished to speak
+to that artist if it were possible.  Michael frowned on that idea,
+even before me.  But Michael couldn't refuse her, any more than the
+others.  He can reach Annouchka easier than anyone else.  You
+remember it was he who rode hard and arrived in time with the pardon
+for that beautiful witch; she ought not to forget him if she cared
+for her life."
+
+"Anyone who knows Michael Nikolaievitch knows that he did his duty
+promptly," announced Athanase Georgevitch crisply.  "But he would
+not have gone a step further to save Annouchka.  Even now he won't
+compromise his career by being seen at the home of a woman who is
+never from under the eyes of Gounsovski's agents and who hasn't been
+nicknamed 'Stool-pigeon' for nothing."
+
+"Then why do we go to supper tonight with Annouchka?" asked Ivan.
+
+"That's not the same thing.  We are invited by Gounsovski himself.
+Don't forget that, if stories concerning it drift about some day,
+my friends," said Thaddeus.
+
+"For that matter, Thaddeus, I accept the invitation of the honorable
+chief of our admirable Secret Service because I don't wish to slight
+him.  I have dined at his house already.  By sitting opposite him at
+a public table here I feel that I return that politeness.  What do
+you say to that?"
+
+"Since you have dined with him, tell us what kind of a man he is
+aside from his fattish qualities," said the curious councilor.
+"So many things are said about him.  He certainly seems to be a man
+it is better to stand in with than to fall out with, so I accept
+his invitation.  How could you manage to refuse it, anyway?"
+
+"When he first offered me hospitality," explained the advocate, "I
+didn't even know him.  I never had been near him.  One day a police
+agent came and invited me to dinner by command - or, at least, I
+understood it wasn't wise to refuse the invitation, as you said,
+Ivan Petrovitch.  When I went to his house I thought I was entering
+a fortress, and inside I thought it must be an umbrella shop.  There
+were umbrellas everywhere, and goloshes.  True, it was a day of
+pouring rain.  I was struck by there being no guard with a big
+revolver in the antechamber.  He had a little, timid schwitzar
+there, who took my umbrella, murmuring 'barine' and bowing over and
+over again.  He conducted me through very ordinary rooms quite
+unguarded to an average sitting-room of a common kind.  We dined
+with Madame Gounsovski, who appeared fattish like her husband, and
+three or four men whom I had never seen anywhere.  One servant
+waited on us.  My word!
+
+"At dessert Gounsovski took me aside and told me I was unwise to
+'argue that way.' I asked him what he meant by that.  He took my
+hands between his fat hands and repeated, 'No, no, it is not wise
+to argue like that.'  I couldn't draw anything else out of him.
+For that matter, I understood him, and, you know, since that day
+I have cut out certain side passages unnecessary in my general
+law pleadings that had been giving me a reputation for rather too
+free opinions in the papers.  None of that at my age!  Ah, the
+great Gounsovski!  Over our coffee I asked him if he didn't find
+the country in pretty strenuous times.  He replied that he looked
+forward with impatience to the month of May, when he could go for
+a rest to a little property with a small garden that he had bought
+at Asnieres, near Paris.  When he spoke of their house in the
+country Madame Gounsovski heaved a sigh of longing for those simple
+country joys.  The month of May brought tears to her eyes.  Husband
+and wife looked at one another with real tenderness.  They had not
+the air of thinking for one second: to-morrow or the day after,
+before our country happiness comes, we may find ourselves stripped
+of everything.  No!  They were sure of their happy vacation and
+nothing seemed able to disquiet them under their fat.  Gounsovski
+has done everybody so many services that no one really wishes him
+ill, poor man.  Besides, have you noticed, my dear old friends, that
+no one ever tries to work harm to chiefs of Secret Police?  One goes
+after heads of police, prefects of police, ministers, grand-dukes,
+and even higher, but the chiefs of Secret Police are never, never
+attacked.  They can promenade tranquilly in the streets or in the
+gardens of Krestowsky or breathe the pure air of the Finland country
+or even the country around Paris.  They have done so many little
+favors for this one and that, here and there, that no one wishes to
+do them the least injury.  Each person always thinks, too, that
+others have been less well served than he.  That is the secret of
+the thing, my friends, that is the secret.  What do you say?"
+
+The others said: "Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski.  He knows.  He knows.
+Certainly, accept his supper.  With Annouchka it will be fun."
+
+"Messieurs," asked Rouletabille, who continued to make discoveries
+in the audience, "do you know that officer who is seated at the end
+of a row down there in the orchestra seats?  See, he is getting up."
+
+"He?  Why, that is Prince Galitch, who was one of the richest lords
+of the North Country.  Now he is practically ruined."
+
+"Thanks, gentlemen; certainly it is he.  I know him," said
+Rouletabille, seating himself and mastering his emotion.
+
+"They say he is a great admirer of Annouchka," hazarded Thaddeus.
+Then he walked away from the box.
+
+"The prince has been ruined by women," said Athanase Georgevitch,
+who pretended to know the entire chronicle of gallantries in the
+empire.
+
+"He also has been on good terms with Gounsovski," continued Thaddeus.
+
+"He passes at court, though, for an unreliable.  He once made a
+long visit to Tolstoi."
+
+"Bah!  Gounsovski must have rendered some signal service to that
+imprudent prince," concluded Athanase.  "But for yourself, Thaddeus,
+you haven't said what you did with Gounsovski at Bakou."
+
+(Rouletabille did not lose a word of what was being said around him,
+although he never lost sight of the profile hidden in the black
+mantle nor of Prince Galitch, his personal enemy,* who reappeared,
+it seemed to him, at a very critical moment.)
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+* as told in "The Lady In Black."
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+"I was returning from Balakani in a drojki," said Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff, "and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen the
+debris of my oil shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when
+I met Gounsovski in the road, who, with two of his friends, found
+themselves badly off with one of the wheels of their carriage broken.
+I stopped.  He explained to me that he had a Tartar coachman, and
+that this coachman having seen an Armenian on the road before him,
+could find nothing better to do than run full tilt into the
+Armenian's equipage.  He had reached over and taken the reins from
+him, but a wheel of the carriage was broken." (Rouletabille quivered,
+because he caught a glance of communication between Prince Galitch
+and Natacha, who was leaning over the edge of her box.)  "So I
+offered to take Gounsovski and his friends into my carriage, and
+we rode all together to Bakou after Gounsovski, who always wishes
+to do a service, as Athanase Georgevitch says, had warned his Tartar
+coachman not to finish the Armenian."  (Prince Galitch, at the
+moment the orchestra commenced the introductory music for
+Annouchka's new number, took advantage of all eyes being turned
+toward the rising curtain to pass near Natacha's seat.  This time
+he did not look at Natacha, but Rouletabille was sure that his lips
+had moved as he went by her.)
+
+Thaddeus continued: "It is necessary to explain that at Bakou my
+little house is one of the first before you reach the quay.  I had
+some Armenian employees there.  When arrived, what do you suppose
+I saw?  A file of soldiers with cannon, yes, with a cannon, on my
+word, turned against my house and an officer saying quietly, 'there
+it is.  Fire!'"  (Rouletabille made yet another discovery - two,
+three discoveries.  Near by, standing back of Natacha's seat, was
+a figure not unknown to the young reporter, and there, in one of
+the orchestra chairs, were two other men whose faces he had seen
+that same morning in Koupriane's barracks.  Here was where a memory
+for faces stood him in good stead.  He saw that he was not the only
+person keeping close watch on Natacha.)  "When I heard what the
+officer said," Thaddeus went on, "I nearly dropped out of the
+drojki.  I hurried to the police commissioner.  He explained the
+affair promptly, and I was quick to understand.  During my absence
+one of my Armenian employees had fired at a Tartar who was passing.
+For that matter, he had killed him.  The governor was informed and
+had ordered the house to be bombarded, for an example, as had been
+done with several others.  I found Gounsovski and told him the
+trouble in two words.  He said it wasn't necessary for him to
+interfere in the affair, that I had only to talk to the officer.
+'Give him a good present, a hundred roubles, and he will leave your
+house.  I went back to the officer and took him aside; he said he
+wanted to do anything that he could for me, but that the order was
+positive to bombard the house.  I reported his answer to Gounsovski,
+who told me: 'Tell him then to turn the muzzle of the cannon the
+other way and bombard the building of the chemist across the way,
+then he can always say that he mistook which house was intended.'
+I did that, and he had them turn the cannon.  They bombarded the
+chemist's place, and I got out of the whole thing for the hundred
+roubles.  Gounsovski, the good fellow, may be a great lump of fat
+and be like an umbrella merchant, but I have always been grateful
+to him from the bottom of my heart, you can understand, Athanase
+Georgevitch."
+
+"What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?" inquired
+Rouletabille all at once.
+
+"Oh, oh!" laughed the others.  "Since he went so openly to visit
+Tolstoi he doesn't go to the court any more."
+
+"And - his opinions?  What are his opinions?"
+
+"Oh, the opinions of everybody are so mixed nowadays, nobody knows."
+
+Ivan Petrovitch said, "He passes among some people as very advanced
+and very much compromised."
+
+"Yet they don't bother him?" inquired Rouletabille.
+
+"Pooh, pooh," replied the gay Councilor of Empire, "it is rather he
+who tries to mix with them."
+
+Thaddeus stooped down and said, "They say that he can't be reached
+because of the hold he has over a certain great personage in the
+court, and it would be a scandal - a great scandal."
+
+"Be quiet, Thaddeus," interrupted Athanase Georgevitch, roughly.
+"It is easy to see that you are lately from the provinces to speak
+so recklessly, but if you go on this way I shall leave."
+
+"Athanase Georgevitch is right; hang onto your mouth, Thaddeus,"
+counseled Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+The talkers all grew silent, for the curtain was rising.  In the
+audience there were mysterious allusions being made to this second
+number of Annouchka, but no one seemed able to say what it was to
+be, and it was, as a matter of fact, very simple.  After the
+whirl-wind of dances and choruses and all the splendor with which
+she had been accompanied the first time, Annouchka appeared as a
+poor Russian peasant in a scene representing the barren steppes,
+and very simply she sank to her knees and recited her evening prayers.
+Annouchka was singularly beautiful.  Her aquiline nose with sensitive
+nostrils, the clean-cut outline of her eyebrows, her look that now
+was almost tender, now menacing, always unusual, her pale rounded
+cheeks and the entire expression of her face showed clearly the
+strength of new ideas, spontaneity, deep resolution and, above all,
+passion.  The prayer was passionate.  She had an admirable contralto
+voice which affected the audience strangely from its very first
+notes.  She asked God for daily bread for everyone in the immense
+Russian land, daily bread for the flesh and for the spirit, and she
+stirred the tears of everyone there, to which-ever party they
+belonged.  And when, as her last note sped across the desolate
+steppe and she rose and walked toward the miserable hut, frantic
+bravos from a delirious audience told her the prodigious emotions
+she had aroused.  Little Rouletabille, who, not understanding the
+words, nevertheless caught the spirit of that prayer, wept.
+Everybody wept.  Ivan Petrovitch, Athanase Georgevitch, Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff were standing up, stamping their feet and clapping
+their hands like enthusiastic boys.  The students, who could be
+easily distinguished by the uniform green edging they wore on their
+coats, uttered insensate cries.  And suddenly there rose the first
+strains of the national hymn.  There was hesitation at first, a
+wavering.  But not for long.  Those who had been dreading some
+counter-demonstration realized that no objection could possibly
+be raised to a prayer for the Tsar.  All heads uncovered and the
+Bodje Taara Krari mounted, unanimously, toward the stars.
+
+Through his tears the young reporter never gave up his close watch
+on Natacha.  She had half risen, and, sinking back, leaned on the
+edge of the box.  She called, time and time again, a name that
+Rouletabille could not hear in the uproar, but that he felt sure
+was "Annouchka!  Annouchka!"  "The reckless girl," murmured
+Rouletabille, and, profiting by the general excitement, he left the
+box without being noticed.  He made his way through the crowd toward
+Natacha, whom he had sought futilely since morning.  The audience,
+after clamoring in vain for a repetition of the prayer by Annouchka,
+commenced to disperse, and the reporter was swept along with them
+for a few moments.  When he reached the range of boxes he saw that
+Natacha and the family she had been with were gone.  He looked on
+all sides without seeing the object of his search and like a madman
+commenced to run through the passages, when a sudden idea struck his
+blood cold.  He inquired where the exit for the artists was and as
+soon as it was pointed out, he hurried there.  He was not mistaken.
+In the front line of the crowd that waited to see Annouchka come
+out he recognized Natacha, with her head enveloped in the black
+mantle so that none should see her face.  Besides, this corner of
+the garden was in a half-gloom.  The police barred the way; he could
+not approach as near Natacha as he wished.  He set himself to slip
+like a serpent through the crowd.  He was not separated from Natacha
+by more than four or five persons when a great jostling commenced.
+Annouchka was coming out.  Cries rose: "Annouchka!  Annouchka!"
+Rouletabille threw himself on his knees and on all-fours succeeded
+in sticking his head through into the way kept by the police for
+Annouchka's passage.  There, wrapped in a great red mantle, his hat
+on his arm, was a man Rouletabille immediately recognized.  It was
+Prince Galitch.  They were hurrying to escape the impending pressure
+of the crowd.  But Annouchka as she passed near Natacha stopped just
+a second - a movement that did not escape Rouletabille - and,
+turning toward her said just the one word, "Caracho."  Then she
+passed on.  Rouletabille got up and forced his way back, having
+once more lost Natacha.  He searched for her.  He ran to the
+carriage-way and arrived just in time to see her seated in a
+carriage with the Mourazoff family.  The carriage started at once
+in the direction of the datcha des Iles.  The young man remained
+standing there, thinking.  He made a gesture as though he were
+ready now to let luck take its course.  "In the end," said he, "it
+will be better so, perhaps," and then, to himself, "Now to supper,
+my boy."
+
+He turned in his tracks and soon was established in the glaring
+light of the restaurant.  Officers standing, glass in hand, were
+saluting from table to table and waving a thousand compliments with
+grace that was almost feminine.
+
+He heard his name called joyously, and recognized the voice of Ivan
+Petrovitch.  The three boon companions were seated over a bottle of
+champagne resting in its ice-bath and were being served with tiny
+pates while they waited for the supper-hour, which was now near.
+
+Rouletabille yielded to their invitation readily enough, and
+accompanied them when the head-waiter informed Thaddeus that the
+gentlemen were desired in a private room.  They went to the first
+floor and were ushered into a large apartment whose balcony opened
+on the hall of the winter-theater, empty now.  But the apartment
+was already occupied.  Before a table covered with a shining service
+Gounsovski did the honors.
+
+He received them like a servant, with his head down, an obsequious
+smile, and his back bent, bowing several times as each of the guests
+were presented to him.  Athanase had described him accurately
+enough, a mannikin in fat.  Under the vast bent brow one could
+hardly see his eyes, behind the blue glasses that seemed always
+ready to fall as he inclined too far his fat head with its timid
+and yet all-powerful glance.  When he spoke in his falsetto voice,
+his chin dropped in a fold over his collar, and he had a steady
+gesture with the thumb and index finger of his right hand to retain
+the glasses from sliding down his short, thick nose.
+
+Behind him there was the fine, haughty silhouette of Prince Galitch.
+He had been invited by Annouchka, for she had consented to risk this
+supper only in company with three or four of her friends, officers
+who could not be further compromised by this affair, as they were
+already under the eye of the Okrana (Secret Police) despite their
+high birth.  Gounsovski had seen them come with a sinister chuckle
+and had lavished upon them his marks of devotion.
+
+He loved Annouchka.  It would have sufficed to have surprised just
+once the jealous glance he sent from beneath his great blue glasses
+when he gazed at the singer to have understood the sentiments that
+actuated him in the presence of the beautiful daughter of the Black
+Land.
+
+Annouchka was seated, or, rather, she lounged, Oriental fashion,
+on the sofa which ran along the wall behind the table.  She paid
+attention to no one.  Her attitude was forbidding, even hostile.
+She indifferently allowed her marvelous black hair that fell in two
+tresses over her shoulder to be caressed by the perfumed hands of
+the beautiful Onoto, who had heard her this evening for the first
+time and had thrown herself with enthusiasm into her arms after the
+last number.  Onoto was an artist too, and the pique she felt at
+first over Annouchka's success could not last after the emotion
+aroused by the evening prayer before the hut.  "Come to supper,"
+Annouchka had said to her.
+
+"With whom?" inquired the Spanish artist.
+
+"With Gounsovski."
+
+"Never."
+
+"Do come.  You will help me pay my debt and perhaps he will be
+useful to you as well.  He is useful to everybody."
+
+Decidedly Onoto did not understand this country, where the worst
+enemies supped together.
+
+Rouletabille had been monopolized at once by Prince Galitch, who
+took him into a corner and said:
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Do I inconvenience you?" asked the boy.
+
+The other assumed the amused smile of the great lord.
+
+"While there is still time," he said, "believe me, you ought to
+start, to quit this country.  Haven't you had sufficient notice?"
+
+"Yes," replied the reporter.  "And you can dispense with any further
+notice from this time on."
+
+He turned his back.
+
+"Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa," commenced
+the falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the
+young man and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch,
+who was already busy with the hors-doeuvres.
+
+"How do you do, monsieur?" said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.
+
+Rouletabille saluted.
+
+"I see that I am in a country of acquaintances," he said, without
+appearing disturbed.
+
+He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.
+
+"Rouletabille!" cried la belle Onoto.  "Why, then, he is the little
+fellow who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room."
+
+"Himself."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"He came to save the life of General Trebassof," sniggered
+Gounsovski.  "He is certainly a brave little young man."
+
+"The police know everything," said Rouletabille coldly.  And he
+asked for champagne, which he never drank.
+
+The champagne commenced its work.  While Thaddeus and the officers
+told each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women,
+Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille
+and gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.
+
+"You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more
+difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his
+enemies but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane.  Understand
+me thoroughly: Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very
+highly.  He is good, brave as a warrior, but I wouldn't give a
+kopeck for his police.  He has mixed in our affairs lately by
+creating his own secret police, but I don't wish to meddle with that.
+It amuses us.  It's the new style, anyway; everybody wants his secret
+police nowadays.  And yourself, young man, what, after all, are you
+doing here?  Reporting?  No.  Police work?  That is our business
+and your business.  I wish you good luck, but I don't expect it.
+Remember that if you need any help I will give it you willingly.  I
+love to be of service.  And I don't wish any harm to befall you."
+
+"You are very kind, monsieur," was all Rouletabille replied, and
+he called again for champagne.
+
+Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who
+concerned herself with her meal and had little answer for him.
+
+"Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?"
+
+"No," said Annouchka indifferently.
+
+"The daughter of General Trebassof."
+
+"Yes, that is true, on my word," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"Yes, yes, Natacba was there," joined in the other friends from the
+datcha des Iles.
+
+"For me, I saw her weep," said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka
+fixedly.
+
+But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:
+
+"I do not know her."
+
+"She is unlucky in having a father..."  Prince Galitch commenced.
+
+"Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave," clucked Gounsovski.
+"Your health, dear Annouchka."
+
+"Your health, Gounsovski.  But you have no worry about that."
+
+"Why?" demanded Thaddeus Tchitcbnikoff in equivocal fashion.
+
+"Because he is too useful to the government," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
+
+"No," replied Annouchka; "to the revolutionaries."
+
+All broke out laughing.  Gounsovski recovered his slipping glasses
+by his usual quick movement and sniggered softly, insinuatingly,
+like fat boiling in the pot:
+
+"So they say.  And it is my strength."
+
+"His system is excellent," said the prince.  "As he is in with
+everybody, everybody is in with the police, without knowing it."
+
+"They say ... ah, ah ... they say ..." (Athanase was choking over a
+little piece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) "they say that
+he has driven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the
+church of Kasan."
+
+Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans,
+street-thieves who since the recent political troubles had infested
+St. Petersburg and whom nobody, could get rid of without paying
+for it.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch said:
+
+"There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never
+have.  One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station.
+The girl, frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with
+two roubles and fifty kopecks in it.  The hooligan took it all.
+'Goodness,' cried she, 'I have nothing now to take my train with.'
+'How much is it?' asked the hooligan.  'Sixty kopecks.' 'Sixty
+kopecks!  Why didn't you say so?' And the bandit, hanging onto the
+two roules, returned the fifty-kopeck piece to the trembling child
+and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his own pocket."
+
+"Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow,"
+said la belle Onoto.  "I had just stepped out of the door when I was
+stopped by a hooligan.  'Give me twenty kopecks,' said the hooligan.
+I was so frightened that I couldn't get my purse open.  'Quicker,'
+said he.  Finally I gave him twenty kopecks.  'Now,' said he then,
+'kiss my hand.'  And I had to kiss it, because he held his knife in
+the other."
+
+"Oh, they are quick with their knives," said Thaddeus.  "As I was
+leaving Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a
+huge carving-knife under my nose.  'You can have it for a rouble
+and a half,' he said.  You can believe that I bought it without any
+haggling.  And it was a very good bargain. It was worth at least
+three roubles.  Your health, belle Onoto."
+
+"I always take my revolver when I go out," said Athanase.  "It is
+more prudent.  I say this before the police.  But I would rather be
+arrested by the police than stabbed by the hooligans."
+
+"There's no place any more to buy revolvers," dedared Ivan
+Petrovitch.  "All such places are closed."
+
+Gounsovski settled his glasses, rubbed his fat hands and said:
+
+"There are some still at my locksmith's place.  The proof is that
+to-day in the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith,
+when into the house of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell
+him a revolver.  It was a Browning.  'An arm of the greatest
+reliability,' he said to him, 'which never misses fire and which
+works very easily.'  Having pronounced these words, the locksmith
+tried his revolver and lodged a ball in the grocer's lung.  The
+grocer is dead, but before he died he bought the revolver.  'You
+are right,' he said to the locksmith; 'it is a terrible weapon.'
+And then he died."
+
+The others laughed heartily.  They thought it very funny.  Decidedly
+this great Gounsovski always had a funny story.  Who would not like
+to be his friend?  Annouchka had deigned to smile.  Gounsovski, in
+recognition, extended his hand to her like a mendicant.  The young
+woman touched it with the end of her fingers, as if she were placing
+a twenty-kopeck piece in the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from
+it with disgust.  Then the doors opened for the Bohemians.  Their
+swarthy troupe soon filled the room.  Every evening men and women
+in their native costumes came from old Derevnia, where they lived
+all together in a sort of ancient patriarchal community, with customs
+that had not changed for centuries; they scattered about in the
+places of pleasure, in the fashionable restaurants, where they
+gathered large sums, for it was a fashionable luxury to have them
+sing at the end of suppers, and everyone showered money on them in
+order not to be behind the others.  They accompanied on guzlas, on
+castanets, on tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful and
+languorous, or excitable and breathiess as the flight of the
+earliest nomads in the beginnings of the world.
+
+When they had entered, those present made place for them, and
+Rouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue
+and of a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn't in the
+habit of drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion
+to get a corner of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who
+occupied the place at Annouchka's right.
+
+"Look, Rouletabaille is asleep," remarked la belle Onoto.
+
+"Poor boy!" said Annouchka.
+
+And, turning toward Gounsovski:
+
+"Aren't you soon going to get him out of our way?  I heard some of
+our brethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain
+to those who care about his health."
+
+"Oh, that," said Gounsovski, shaking his head, "is an affair I have
+nothing to do with.  Apply to Koupriane.  Your health, belle
+Annouchka."
+
+But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and
+the singers took everybody's attention, everybody excepting Prince
+Galitch and Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another,
+exchanged some words on the edge of all this musical uproar.  As
+for Rouletabille, he certainly must have been sleeping soundly not
+to have been waked by all that noise, melodious as it was.  It is
+true that he had - apparently - drunk a good deal and, as everyone
+knows, in Russia drink lays out those who can't stand it.  When
+the Bohemians had sung three times Gounsovski made a sign that they
+might go to charm other ears, and slipped into the hands of the
+chief of the band a twenty-five rouble note.  But Onoto wished to
+give her mite, and a regular collection commenced.  Each one threw
+roubles into the plate held out by a little swarthy Bohemian girl
+with crow-black hair, carelessly combed, falling over her forehead,
+her eyes and her face, in so droll a fashion that one would have
+said the little thing was a weeping-willow soaked in ink.  The
+plate reached Prince Galitch, who futilely searched his pockets.
+
+"Bah!" said he, with a lordly air, "I have no money.  But here is
+my pocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me,
+Katharina."
+
+Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince,
+but Annouchka said:
+
+"The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficiently
+repay the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty
+hut when I was in hiding, while your famous department was deciding
+what to do about me, my dear Gounsovski."
+
+"Eh," replied Gounsovski, "I let you know that all you had to do
+was to take a fine apartment in the city."
+
+Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from
+yellow turned green.
+
+"But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?" asked Onoto as
+she caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.
+
+"You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned.  I had
+been able to leave Moscow, and I hadn't any desire to be re-taken
+here and sent to taste the joys of Siberia."
+
+"But why were you condemned to death?"
+
+"Why, she doesn't know anything!" exclaimed the others.
+
+"Good Lord, I'm just back from London and Paris - how should I know
+anything!  But to have been condemned to death!  That must have
+been amusing."
+
+"Very amusing," said Annouchka icily.  "And if you have a brother
+whom you love, Onoto, think how much more amusing it must be to
+have him shot before you."
+
+"Oh, my love, forgive me!"
+
+"So you may know and not give any pain to your Annouchka in the
+future, I will tell you, madame, what happened to our dear friend,"
+said Prince Galitch.
+
+"We would do better to drive away such terrible memories," ventured
+Gounsovski, lifting his eyelashes behind his glasses, but he bent
+his head as Annouchka sent him a blazing glance.
+
+"Speak, Galitch."
+
+The Prince did as she said.
+
+"Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line,
+whom the Strike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the
+only means of escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops
+when Trebassof's soldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had
+become masters of the city.  The last resistance took place at the
+station.  It was necessary to get started.  All the ways were
+guarded by the military.  There were soldiers everywhere!  Vlassof
+said to his comrades, 'I will save you;' and his comrades saw him
+mount the engine with a woman.  That woman was - well, there she
+sits.  Vlassof's fireman had been killed the evening before, on a
+barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place.  They busied
+themselves and the train started like a shot.  On that curved line,
+discovered at once, easy to attack, under a shower of bullets,
+Vlassof developed a speed of ninety versts an hour.  He ran the
+indicator up to the explosion point.  The lady over there continued
+to pile coal into the furnace.  The danger came to be less from the
+military and more from an explosion at any moment.  In the midst of
+the balls Vlassof kept his usual coolness.  He sped not only with
+the firebox open but with the forced draught.  It was a miracle
+that the engine was not smashed against the curve of the embankment.
+But they got past.  Not a man was hurt.  Only a woman was wounded.
+She got a ball in the chest."
+
+"There!" cried Annouchka.
+
+With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving
+chest, and put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began
+to melt in heavy drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.
+
+"Fifteen days later," continued the prince, "Vlassof entered an inn
+at Lubetszy.  He didn't know it was full of soldiers.  His face
+never altered.  They searched him.  They found a revolver and papers
+on him.  They knew whom they had to do with.  He was a good prize.
+Vlassof was taken to Moscow and condemned to be shot.  His sister,
+wounded as she was, learned of his arrest and joined him.  'I do
+not wish,' she said to him, 'to leave you to die alone.'  She also
+was condemned.  Before the execution the soldiers offered to bandage
+their eyes, but both refused, saying they preferred to meet death
+face to face.  The orders were to shoot all the other condemned
+revolutionaries first, then Vlassof, then his sister.  It was in
+vain that Vlassof asked to die last.  Their comrades in execution
+sank to their knees, bleeding from their death wounds.  Vlassof
+embraced his sister and walked to the place of death.  There he
+addressed the soldiers: 'Now you have to carry out your duty
+according to the oath you have taken.  Fulfill it honestly as I
+have fulfilled mine.  Captain, give the order.' The volley
+sounded.  Vlassof remained erect, his arms crossed on his breast,
+safe and sound.  Not a ball had touched him.  The soldiers did not
+wish to fire at him.  He had to summon them again to fulfill their
+duty, and obey their chief.  Then they fired again, and he fell.
+He looked at his sister with his eyes full of horrible suffering.
+Seeing that he lived, and wishing to appear charitable, the captain,
+upon Annouchka's prayers, approached and cut short his sufferings
+by firing a revolver into his ear.  Now it was Annouchka's turn.
+She knelt by the body of her brother, kissed his bloody lips, rose
+and said, 'I am ready.'  As the guns were raised, an officer came
+running, bearing the pardon of the Tsar.  She did not wish it, and
+she whom they had not bound when she was to die had to be restrained
+when she learned she was to live."
+
+Prince Galitch, amid the anguished silence of all there, started to
+add some words of comment to his sinister recital, but Annouchka
+interrupted:
+
+"The story is ended," said she.  "Not a word, Prince.  If I asked
+you to tell it in all its horror, if I wished you to bring back to
+us the atrocious moment of my brother's death, it is so that
+monsieur" (her fingers pointed to Gounsovski) "shall know well,
+once for all, that if I have submitted for some hours now to this
+promiscuous company that has been imposed upon me, now that I have
+paid the debt by accepting this abominable supper, I have nothing
+more to do with this purveyor of bagnios and of hangman's ropes who
+is here."
+
+"She is mad," he muttered.  "She is mad.  What has come over her?
+What has happened?  Only to-day she was so, so amiable."
+
+And he stuttered, desolately, with an embarrassed laugh:
+
+"Ah, the women, the women!  Now what have I done to her?"
+
+"What have you done to me, wretch?  Where are Belachof, Bartowsky
+and Strassof?  And Pierre Slutch?  All the comrades who swore with
+me to revenge my brother?  Where are they?  On what gallows did you
+have them hung?  What mine have you buried them in?  And still you
+follow your slavish task.  And my friends, my other friends, the
+poor comrades of my artist life, the inoffensive young men who have
+not committed any other crime than to come to see me too often when
+I was lively, and who believed they could talk freely in my
+dressing-room - where are they?  Why have they left me, one by one?
+Why have they disappeared?   It is you, wretch, who watched them,
+who spied on them, making me, I haven't any doubt, your horrible
+accomplice, mixing me up in your beastly work, you dog!  You knew
+what they call me.  You have known it for a long time, and you may
+well laugh over it.   But I, I never knew until this evening; I
+never learned until this evening all I owe to you.  'Stool pigeon!
+Stool pigeon!'  I!  Horror!   Ah, you dog, you dog!  Your mother,
+when you were brought into the world, your mother ..."  Here she
+hurled at him the most offensive insult that a Russian can offer a
+man of that race.
+
+She trembled and sobbed with rage, spat in fury, and stood up ready
+to go, wrapped in her mantle like a great red flag.  She was the
+statue of hate and vengeance.  She was horrible and terrible.  She
+was beautiful.  At the final supreme insult, Gounsovski started
+and rose to his feet as though he had received an actual blow in
+the face.  He did not look at Annouchka, but fixed his eyes on
+Prince Galitch.  His finger pointed him out:
+
+"There is the man," he hissed, "who has told you all these fine
+things."
+
+"Yes, it is I," said the Prince, tranquilly.
+
+"Caracho!" barked Gounsovski, instantaneously regaining his coolness.
+
+"Ah, yes, but you'll not touch him," clamored the spirited girl of
+the Black Land; "you are not strong enough for that."
+
+"I know that monsieur has many friends at court," agreed the chief
+of the Secret Service with an ominous calm.  "I 'don't wish ill to
+monsieur.  You speak, madame, of the way some of your friends have
+had to be sacrificed.  I hope that some day you will be better
+informed, and that you will understand I saved all of them I could."
+
+"Let us go," muttered Annouchka.  "I shall spit in his face."
+
+"Yes, all I could," replied the other, with his habitual gesture of
+hanging on to his glasses.  "And I shall continue to do so.  I
+promise you not to say anything more disagreeable to the prince
+than as regards his little friend the Bohemian Katharina, whom he
+has treated so generously just now, doubtless because Boris
+Mourazoff pays her too little for the errands she runs each morning
+to the villa of Krestowsky Ostrow."
+
+At these words the Prince and Annouchka both changed countenance.
+Their anger rose.  Annouchka turned her head as though to arrange
+the folds of her cloak.  Galitch contented himself with shrugging
+his shoulders impatiently and murmuring:
+
+"Still some other abomination that you are concocting, monsieur,
+and that we don't know how to reply to."
+
+After which he bowed to the supper-party, took Annouchka's arm and
+had her move before him.  Gounsovski bowed, almost bent in two.
+When he rose he saw before him the three astounded and horrified
+figures of Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase
+Georgevitch.
+
+"Messieurs," he said to them, in a colorless voice which seemed not
+to belong to him, "the time has come for us to part.  I need not
+say that we have supped as friends and that, if you wish it to be
+so, we can forget everything that has been said here."
+
+The three others, frightened, at once protested their discretion.
+He added, roughly this time, "Service of the Tsar," and the three
+stammered, "God save the Tsar!"  After which he saw them to the
+door.  When the door had closed after them, he said, "My little
+Annouchka, you mustn't reckon without me."  He hurried toward the
+sofa, where Rouletabille was lying forgotten, and gave him a tap
+on the shoulder.
+
+"Come, get up.  Don't act as though you were asleep.  Not an instant
+to lose.  They are going to carry through the Trebassof affair this
+evening."
+
+Rouletabille was already on his legs.
+
+"Oh, monsieur," said he, "I didn't want you to tell me that.  Thanks
+all the same, and good evening."
+
+He went out.
+
+Gounsovski rang.  A servant appeared.
+
+"Tell them they may now open all the rooms on this corridor; I'll
+not hold them any longer."  Thus had Gounsovski kept himself
+protected.
+
+Left alone, the head of the Secret Service wiped his brow and drank
+a great glass of iced water which he emptied at a draught.  Then he
+said:
+
+"Koupriane will have his work cut out for him this evening; I wish
+him good luck.  As to them, whatever happens, I wash my hands of
+them."
+
+And he rubbed his hands.
+
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+A DRAMA IN THE NIGHT
+
+At the door of the Krestowsky Rouletabille, who was in a hurry for
+a conveyance, jumped into an open carriage where la belle Onoto was
+already seated.  The dancer caught him on her knees.
+
+"To Eliaguine, fast as you can," cried the reporter for all
+explanation.
+
+"Scan!  Scan!  (Quickly, quickly)" repeated Onoto.
+
+She was accompanied by a vague sort of person to whom neither of
+them paid the least attention.
+
+"What a supper!  You waked up at last, did you?" quizzed the actress.
+But Rouletabille, standing up behind the enormous coachman, urged
+the horses and directed the route of the carriage.  They bolted
+along through the night at a dizzy pace.  At the corner of a bridge
+he ordered the horses stopped, thanked his companions and
+disappeared.
+
+"What a country!  What a country!  Caramba!" said the Spanish artist.
+
+The carriage waited a few minutes, then turned back toward the city.
+
+Rouletabille got down the embankment and slowly, taking infinite
+precautions not to reveal his presence by making the least noise,
+made his way to where the river is widest.  Seen through the
+blackness of the night the blacker mass of the Trebassof villa
+loomed like an enormous blot, he stopped.  Then he glided like a
+snake through the reeds, the grass, the ferns.  He was at the back
+of the villa, near the river, not far from the little path where
+he had discovered the passage of the assassin, thanks to the broken
+cobwebs.  At that moment the moon rose and the birch-trees, which
+just before had been like great black staffs, now became white
+tapers which seemed to brighten that sinister solitude.
+
+The reporter wished to profit at once by the sudden luminance to
+learn if his movements had been noticed and if the approaches to
+the villa on that side were guarded.  He picked up a small pebble
+and threw it some distance from him along the path.  At the
+unexpected noise three or four shadowy heads were outlined suddenly
+in the white light of the moon, but disappeared at once, lost again
+in the dark tufts of grass.
+
+He had gained his information.
+
+The reporter's acute ear caught a gliding in his direction, a slight
+swish of twigs; then all at once a shadow grew by his side and he
+felt the cold of a revolver barrel on his temple.  He said
+"Koupriane," and at once a hand seized his and pressed it.
+
+The night had become black again.  He murmured: "How is it you are
+here in person?"
+
+The Prefect of Police whispered in his ear:
+
+"I have been informed that something will happen to-night.  Natacha
+went to Krestowsky and exchanged some words with Annouchka there.
+Prince Galitch is involved, and it is an affair of State."
+
+"Natacha has returned?" inquired Rouletabille.
+
+"Yes, a long time ago.  She ought to be in bed. In any case she is
+pretending to be abed.  The light from her chamber, in the window
+over the garden, has been put out."
+
+"Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?"
+
+"Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out
+to-night."
+
+"That's a mistake.  I shouldn't have told her anything.  She will
+take such extra precautions that the others will be instantly
+warned."
+
+"I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this
+night, and that she must not leave the general's chamber."
+
+"That is perfect, if she will obey you."
+
+"You see I have profited by all your information.  I have followed
+your instructions.  The road from the Krestowsky is under
+surveillance."
+
+"Perhaps too much.  How are you planning?"
+
+"We will let them enter.  I don't know whom I have to deal with.
+I want to strike a sure blow.  I shall take him in the act.  No more
+doubt after this, you trust me."
+
+"Adieu."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To bed.  I have paid my debt to my host.  I have the right to some
+repose now.  Good luck!"
+
+But Koupriane had seized his hand.
+
+"Listen."
+
+With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water.
+If a boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and
+wished to remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen.
+A great black cloud covered the moon; the wind was light.  The boat
+would have time to get from one bank to the other without being
+discovered.  Rouletabille waited no longer.  On all-fours he ran
+like a beast, rapidly and silently, and rose behind the wall of the
+villa, where he made a turn, reached the gate, aroused the dvornicks
+and demanded Ermolai, who opened the gate for him.
+
+"The Barinia?" he said.
+
+Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.
+
+"Caracho!"
+
+Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself
+by his fingers to the window of Natacha's chamber, where he listened.
+He plainly heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber.  He fell
+back lightly onto his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the
+door, then closed it so lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from
+outside not two feet away, did not hear the slightest grinding of
+the hinges.  Inside the villa Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe.  He
+found the door of the drawing-room open.  The door of the
+sitting-room had not been closed, or else had been reopened.  He
+turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a chair and sat down,
+with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting for the events
+that would not delay long now.  Above he heard distinctly from time
+to time the movements of Matrena Petrovna.  And this would evidently
+give a sense of security to those who needed to have the ground-floor
+free this night.  Rouletabille imagined that the doors of the rooms
+on the ground-floor had been left open so that it would be easier
+for those who would be below to hear what was happening upstairs.
+And perhaps he was not wrong.
+
+Suddenly there was a vertical bar of pale light from the sitting-room
+that overlooked the Neva.  He deduced two things: first, that the
+window was already slightly open, then that the moon was out from
+the clouds again.  The bar of light died almost instantly, but
+Rouletabille's eyes, now used to the obscurity, still distinguished
+the open line of the window.  There the shade was less deep.
+Suddenly he felt the blood pound at his temples, for the line of the
+open window grew larger, increased, and the shadow of a man gradually
+rose on the balcony.  Rouletabille drew his revolver.
+
+The man stood up immediately behind one of the shutters and struck
+a light blow on the glass.  Placed as he was now he could be seen
+no more.  His shadow mixed with the shadow of the shutter.  At the
+noise on the glass Natacha's door had opened cautiously, and she
+entered the sitting-room.  On tiptoe she went quickly to the window
+and opened it.  The man entered.  The little light that by now was
+commencing to dawn was enough to show Rouletabille that Natacha
+still wore the toilette in which he had seen her that same evening
+at Krestowsky.  As for the man, he tried in vain to identify him;
+he was only a dark mass wrapped in a mantle.  He leaned over and
+kissed Natacha's hand.  She said only one word: "Scan!" (Quickly).
+
+But she had no more than said it before, under a vigorous attack,
+the shutters and the two halves of the window were thrown wide, and
+silent shadows jumped rapidly onto the balcony and sprang into the
+villa.  Natacha uttered a shrill cry in which Rouletabille believed
+still he heard more of despair than terror, and the shadows threw
+themselves on the man; but he, at the first alarm, had thrown
+himself upon the carpet and had slipped from them between their
+legs.  He regained the balcony and jumped from it as the others
+turned toward him.  At least, it was so that Rouletabille believed
+he saw the mysterious struggle go in the half-light, amid most
+impressive silence, after that frightened cry of Natacha's.  The
+whole affair had lasted only a few seconds, and the man was still
+hanging over the balcony, when from the bottom of the hall a new
+person sprang.  It was Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Warned by Koupriane that something would happen that night, and
+foreseeing that it would happen on the ground-floor where she was
+forbidden to be, she had found nothing better to do than to make
+her faithful maid go secretly to the bedroom floor, with orders to
+walk about there all night, to make all think she herself was near
+the general, while she remained below, hidden in the dining-room.
+
+Matrena Petrovna now threw herself out onto the balcony, crying in
+Russian, "Shoot!  Shoot!"  In just that moment the man was hesitating
+whether to risk the jump and perhaps break his neck, or descend less
+rapidly by the gutter-pipe.  A policeman fired and missed him, and
+the man, after firing back and wounding the policeman, disappeared.
+It was still too far from dawn for them to see clearly what happened
+below, where the barking of Brownings alone was heard.  And there
+could be nothing more sinister than the revolver-shots unaccompanied
+by cries in the mists of the morning.  The man, before he
+disappeared, had had only time by a quick kick to throw down one of
+the two ladders which had been used by the police in climbing; down
+the other one all the police in a bunch, even to the wounded one,
+went sliding, falling, rising, running after the shadow which fled
+still, discharging the Browning steadily; other shadows rose from
+the river-bank, hovering in the mist.  Suddenly Koupniane's voice
+was heard shouting orders, calling upon his agents to take the
+quarry alive or dead.  From the balcony Matrena Petrovna cried out
+also, like a savage, and Rouletabille tried in vain to keep her
+quiet.  She was delirious at the thought "The Other" might escape
+yet.  She fired a revolver, she also, into the group, not knowing
+whom she might wound.   Rouletabille grabbed her arm and as she
+turned on him angrily she observed Natacha, who, leaning until she
+almost fell over the balcony, her lips trembling with delirious
+utterance, followed as well as she could the progress of the
+struggle, trying to understand what happened below, under the trees,
+near the Neva, where the tumult by now extended.  Matrena Petrovna
+pulled her back by the arms.  Then she took her by the neck and
+threw her into the drawing-room in a heap.  When she had almost
+strangled her step-daughter, Matrena Petrovna saw that the general
+was there.  He appeared in the pale glimmerings of dawn like a
+specter.  By what miracle had Feodor Feodorovitch been able to
+descend the stairs and reach there?  How had it been brought about?
+She saw him tremble with anger or with wretchedness under the folds
+of the soldier's cape that floated about him.  He demanded in a
+hoarse voice, "What is it?"
+
+Matrena Petrovna threw herself at his feet, made the orthodox sign
+of the Cross, as if she wished to summon God to witness, and then,
+pointing to Natacha, she denounced his daughter to her husband as
+she would have pointed her out to a judge.
+
+"The one, Feodor Feodorovitch, who has wished more than once to
+assassinate you, and who this night has opened the datcha to your
+assassin is your daughter."
+
+The general held himself up by his two hands against the wall, and,
+looking at Matrena and Natacha, who now were both upon the floor
+before him like suppliants, he said to Matrena:
+
+"It is you who assassinate me."
+
+"Me!  By the living God!" babbled Matrena Petrovna desperately.
+"If I had been able to keep this from you, Jesus would have been
+good!  But I say no more to crucify you.  Feodor Feodorovitch,
+question your daughter, and if what I have said is not true, kill
+me, kill me as a lying, evil beast.  I will say thank you, thank
+you, and I will die happier than if what I have said was true.  Ah,
+I long to be dead!  Kill me!"
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch pushed her back with his stick as one would
+push a worm in his path.  Without saying anything further, she rose
+from her knees and looked with her haggard eyes, with her crazed
+face, at Rouletabille, who grasped her arm.  If she had had her
+hands still free she would not have hesitated a second in wreaking
+justice upon herself under this bitter fate of alienating Feodor.
+And it seemed frightful to Rouletabille that he should be present
+at one of those horrible family dramas the issue of which in the
+wild times of Peter the Great would have sent the general to the
+hangman either as a father or as a husband.
+
+The general did not deign even to consider for any length of time
+Matrena's delirium.  He said to his daughter, who shook with sobs
+on the floor, "Rise, Natacha Feodorovna."  And Feodor's daughter
+understood that her father never would believe in her guilt.  She
+drew herself up towards him and kissed his hands like a happy slave.
+
+At this moment repeated blows shook the veranda door.  Matrena, the
+watch-dog, anxious to die after Feodor's reproach, but still at her
+post, ran toward what she believed to be a new danger.  But she
+recognized Koupriane's voice, which called on her to open.  She let
+him in herself.
+
+"What is it?" she implored.
+
+"Well, he is dead."
+
+A cry answered him.  Natacha had heard.
+
+"But who - who - who?" questioned Matrena breathlessly.
+
+Koupriane went over to Feodor and grasped his hands.
+
+"General," he said, "there was a man who had sworn your ruin and
+who was made an instrument by your enemies.  We have just killed
+that man."
+
+"Do I know him?" demanded Feodor.
+
+"He is one of your friends, you have treated him like a son."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"Ask your daughter, General."
+
+Feodor turned toward Natacha, who burned Koupriane with her gaze,
+trying to learn what this news was he brought - the truth or a ruse.
+
+"You know the man who wished to kill me, Natacha?"
+
+"No," she replied to her father, in accents of perfect fury.  "No,
+I don't know any such man."
+
+"Mademoiselle," said Koupriane, in a firm, terribly hostile voice,
+"you have yourself, with your own hands, opened that window to-night;
+and you have opened it to him many other times besides.  While
+everyone else here does his duty and watches that no person shall be
+able to enter at night the house where sleeps General Trebassof,
+governor of Moscow, condemned to death by the Central Revolutionary
+Committee now reunited at Presnia, this is what you do; it is you
+who introduce the enemy into this place."
+
+"Answer, Natacha; tell me, yes or no, whether you have let anybody
+into this house by night."
+
+"Father, it is true."
+
+Feodor roared like a lion:
+
+"His name!"
+
+"Monsieur will tell you himself," said Natacha, in a voice thick
+with terror, and she pointed to Koupriane.  "Why does he not tell
+you himself the name of that person?  He must know it, if the man
+is dead."
+
+"And if the man is not dead," replied Feodor, who visibly held onto
+himself, "if that man, whom you helped to enter my house this night,
+has succeeded in escaping, as you seem to hope, will you tell us his
+name?"
+
+"I could not tell it, Father."
+
+"And if I prayed you to do so?"
+
+Natacha desperately shook her head.
+
+"And if I order you?"
+
+"You can kill me, Father, but I will not pronounce that name."
+
+"Wretch!"
+
+He raised his stick toward her.  Thus Ivan the Terrible had killed
+his son with a blow of his boar-spear.
+
+But Natacha, instead of bowing her head beneath the blow that
+menaced her, turned toward Koupriane and threw at him in accents of
+triumph:
+
+"He is not dead.  If you bad succeeded in taking him, dead or alive,
+you would already have his name."
+
+Koupriane took two steps toward her, put his hand on her shoulder
+and said:
+
+"Michael Nikolajevitch."
+
+"Michael Korsakoff!" cried the general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, as if revolted by that suggestion, stood upright
+to repeat:
+
+"Michael Korsakoff!"
+
+The general could not believe his ears, and was about to protest
+when he noticed that his daughter had turned away and was trying to
+flee to her room.  He stopped her with a terrible gesture.
+
+"Natacha, you are going to tell us what Michael Korsakoff came here
+to do to-night."
+
+"Feodor Feodorovitch, he came to poison you."
+
+It was Matrena who spoke now and whom nothing could have kept silent,
+for she saw in Natacha's attempt at flight the most sinister
+confession.  Like a vengeful fury she told over with cries and
+terrible gestures what she had experienced, as if once more stretched
+before her the hand armed with the poison, the mysterious hand above
+the pillow of her poor invalid, her dear, rigorous tyrant; she told
+them about the preceding night and all her terrors, and from her
+lips, by her voluble staccato utterance that ominous recital had
+grotesque emphasis.  Finally she told all that she had done, she
+and the little Frenchman, in order not to betray their suspicions
+to The Other, in order to take finally in their own trap all those
+who for so many days and nights schemed for the death of Feodor
+Feodorovitch.  As she ended she pointed out Rouletabille to Feodor
+and cried, "There is the one who has saved you."
+
+Natacha, as she listened to this tragic recital, restrained herself
+several times in order not to interrupt, and Rouletabille, who was
+watching her closely, saw that she had to use almost superhuman
+efforts in order to achieve that.  All the horror of what seemed to
+be to her as well as to Feodor a revelation of Michael's crime did
+not subdue her, but seemed, on the contrary, to restore to her in
+full force all the life that a few seconds earlier had fled from her.
+Matrena had hardly finished her cry, "There is the one who has
+saved you," before Natacha cried in her turn, facing the reporter
+with a look full of the most frightful hate, "There is the one who
+has been the death of an innocent man!"  She turned to her father.
+"Ah, papa, let me, let me say that Michael Nikolaievitch, who came
+here this evening, I admit, and whom, it is true, I let into the
+house, that Michael Nikolaievitch did not come here yesterday, and
+that the man who has tried to poison you is certainly someone else."
+
+At these words Rouletabille turned pale, but he did not let himself
+lose self-control.  He replied simply:
+
+"No, mademoiselle, it was the same man."
+
+And Koupriane felt compelled to add:
+
+"Anyway, we have found the proof of Michael Nikolaievitch's relations
+with the revolutionaries."
+
+"Where have you found that?" questioned the young girl, turning
+toward the Chief of Police a face ravished with anguish.
+
+"At Krestowsky, mademoiselle."
+
+She looked a long time at him as though she would penetrate to the
+bottom of his thoughts.
+
+"What proofs?" she implored.
+
+"A correspondence which we have placed under seal."
+
+"Was it addressed to him? What kind of correspondence?"
+
+"If it interests you, we will open it before you."
+
+"My God!  My God!" she gasped.  "Where have you found this
+correspondence?  Where?  Tell me where!"
+
+"I will tell you.  `At the villa, in his chamber.  We forced the
+lock of his bureau."
+
+She seemed to breathe again, but her father took her brutally by
+the arm.
+
+"Come, Natacha, you are going to tell us what that man was doing
+here to-night."
+
+"In her chamber!" cried Matrena Petrovna.
+
+Natacha turned toward Matrena:
+
+"What do you believe, then? Tell me now."
+
+"And I, what ought I to believe?" muttered Feodor.  "You have not
+told me yet.  You did not know that man had relations with my
+enemies.  You are innocent of that, perhaps.  I wish to think so.
+I wish it, in the name of Heaven I wish it.  But why did you
+receive him?  Why?  Why did you bring him in here, as a robber
+or as a..."
+
+"Oh, papa, you know that I love Boris, that I love him with all my
+heart, and that I would never belong to anyone but him."
+
+"Then, then, then.  - speak!"
+
+The young girl had reached the crisis.
+
+"Ah, Father, Father, do not question me!  You, you above all, do
+not question me now.  I can say nothing!  There is nothing I can
+tell you.  Excepting that I am sure - sure, you understand - that
+Michael Nikolaievitch did not come here last night."
+
+"He did come," insisted Rouletabille in a slightly troubled voice.
+
+"He came here with poison.  He came here to poison your father,
+Natacha," moaned Matrena Petrovna, who twined her hands in gestures
+of sincere and naive tragedy.
+
+"And I," replied the daughter of Feodor ardently, with an accent of
+conviction which made everyone there vibrate, and particularly
+Rouletabille, "and I, I tell you it was not he, that it was not he,
+that it could not possibly be he.  I swear to you it was another,
+another."
+
+"But then, this other, did you let him in as well?" said Koupriane.
+
+"Ah, yes, yes.  It was I.  It was I.  It was I who left the window
+and blinds open.  Yes, it is I who did that.  But I did not wait for
+the other, the other who came to assassinate.  As to Michael
+Nikolaievitch, I swear to you, my father, by all that is most sacred
+in heaven and on earth, that he could not have committed the crime
+that you say.  And now - kill me, for there is nothing more I can
+say."
+
+"The poison," replied Koupriane coldly, "the poison that he poured
+into the general's potion was that arsenate of soda which was on
+the grapes the Marshal of the Court brought here.  Those grapes
+were left by the Marshal, who warned Michael Nikolaievitch and
+Boris Alexandrovitch to wash them.  The grapes disappeared.  If
+Michael is innocent, do you accuse Boris?"
+
+Natacha, who seemed to have suddenly lost all power for defending
+herself, moaned, begged, railed, seemed dying.
+
+"No, no.  Don't accuse Boris.  He has nothing to do with it.  Don't
+accuse Michael.  Don't accuse anyone so long as you don't know.  But
+these two are innocent.  Believe me.  Believe me.  Ah, how shall I
+say it, how shall I persuade you!  I am not able to say anything to
+you.  And you have killed Michael.  Ah, what have you done, what
+have you done!"
+
+"We have suppressed a man," said the icy voice of Koupriane, "who
+was merely the agent for the base deeds of Nihilism."
+
+She succeeded in recovering a new energy that in her depths of
+despair they would have supposed impossible.  She shook her fists
+at Koupriane:
+
+"It is not true, it is not true.  These are slanders, infamies!  The
+inventions of the police!  Papers devised to incriminate him.  There
+is nothing at all of what you said you found at his house.  It is
+not possible.  It is not true."
+
+"Where are those papers?" demanded the curt voice of Feodor.  "Bring
+them here at once, Koupriane; I wish to see them."
+
+Koupriane was slightly troubled, and this did not escape Natacha,
+who cried:
+
+"Yes, yes, let him give us them, let him bring them if he has them.
+But he hasn't," she clamored with a savage joy.  "He has nothing.
+You can see, papa, that he has nothing.  He would already have
+brought them out.  He has nothing.  I tell you he has nothing.  Ah,
+he has nothing!  He has nothing!"
+
+And she threw herself on the floor, weeping, sobbing,  "He has
+nothing, he has nothing!"  She seemed to weep for joy.
+
+"Is that true?" demanded Feodor Feodorovitch, with his most somber
+manner.  "Is it true, Koupriane, that you have nothing?"
+
+"It is true, General, that we have found nothing.  Everything had
+already been carried away."
+
+But Natacha uttered a veritable torrent of glee:
+
+"He has found nothing!  Yet he accuses him of being allied with the
+revolutionaries.  Why?  Why? Because I let him in?  But I, am I a
+revolutionary?  Tell me.  Have I sworn to kill papa?  I?  I?  Ah, he
+doesn't know what to say.  You see for yourself, papa, he is silent.
+He has lied.  He has lied."
+
+"Why have you made this false statement, Koupriane?"
+
+"Oh, we have suspected Michael for some time, and truly, after what
+has just happened, we cannot have any doubt."
+
+"Yes, but you declared you had papers, and you have not.  That is
+abominable procedure, Koupriane," replied Feodor sternly.  "I have
+heard you condemn such expedients many times."
+
+"General!  We are sure, you hear, we are absolutely sure that the
+man who tried to poison you yesterday and the man to-day who is
+dead are one and the same."
+
+"And what reason have you for being so sure?  It is necessary to
+tell it," insisted the general, who trembled with distress and
+impatience.
+
+"Yes, let him tell now."
+
+"Ask monsieur," said Koupriane.
+
+They all turned to Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter replied, affecting a coolness that perhaps he did not
+entirely feel:
+
+"I am able to state to you, as I already have before Monsieur the
+Prefect of Police, that one, and only one, person has left the
+traces of his various climbings on the wall and on the balcony."
+
+"Idiot!" interrupted Natacha, with a passionate disdain for the
+young man.  "And that satisfies you?"
+
+The general roughly seized the reporter's wrist:
+
+"Listen to me, monsieur.  A man came here this night.  That concerns
+only me.  No one has any right to be astonished excepting myself.  I
+make it my own affair, an affair between my daughter and me.  But
+you, you have just told us that you are sure that man is an assassin.
+Then, you see, that calls for something else.  Proofs are necessary,
+and I want the proofs at once.  You speak of traces; very well, we
+will go and examine those traces together.  And I wish for your sake,
+monsieur, that I shall be as convinced by them as you are."
+
+Rouletabille quietly disengaged his wrist and replied with perfect
+calm:
+
+"Now, monsieur, I am no longer able to prove anything to you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because the ladders of the police agents have wiped out all my
+proofs, monsieur.
+
+"So now there remains for us only your word, only your belief in
+yourself.  And if you are mistaken?"
+
+"He would never admit it, papa," cried Natacha.  "Ah, it is he who
+deserves the fate Michael Nikolaievitch has met just now.  Isn't it
+so?  Don't you know it? And that will be your eternal remorse!  Isn't
+there something that always keeps you from admitting that you are
+mistaken?  You have had an innocent man killed.  Now, you know well
+enough, you know well that I would not have admitted Michael
+Nikolaievitch here if I had believed he was capable of wishing to
+poison my father."
+
+"Mademoiselle," replied Rouletabille, not lowering his eyes under
+Natacha's thunderous regard, "I am sure of that."
+
+He said it in such a tone that Natacha continued to look at him
+with incomprehensible anguish in her eyes.  Ah, the baffling of
+those two regards, the mute scene between those two young people,
+one of whom wished to make himself understood and the other afraid
+beyond all other things of being thoroughly understood.  Natacha
+murmured:
+
+"How he looks at me!  See, he is the demon; yes, yes, the little
+domovoi, the little domovoi.  But look out, poor wretch; you don't
+know what you have done."
+
+She turned brusquely toward Koupriane:
+
+"Where is the body of Michael Nikolaievitch?" said she.  "I wish to
+see it.  I must see it."
+
+Feodor Feodorovitch had fallen, as though asleep, upon a chair.
+Matrena Petrovna dared not approach him.  The giant appeared hurt
+to the death, disheartened forever.  What neither bombs, nor bullets,
+nor poison had been able to do, the single idea of his daughter's
+co-operation in the work of horror plotted about him - or rather
+the impossibility he faced of understanding Natacha's attitude, her
+mysterious conduct, the chaos of her explanations, her insensate
+cries, her protestations of innocence, her accusations, her menaces,
+her prayers and all her disorder, the avowed fact of her share in
+that tragic nocturnal adventure where Michael Nikolaievitch found
+his death, had knocked over Feodor Feodorovitch like a straw.  One
+instant he sought refuge in some vague hope that Koupriane was less
+assured than he pretended of the orderly's guilt.  But that, after
+all, was only a detail of no importance in his eyes.  What alone
+mattered was the significance of Natacha's act, and the unhappy
+girl seemed not to be concerned over what he would think of it.
+She was there to fight against Koupriane, Rouletabille and Matrena
+Petrovna, defending her Michael Nikolajevitch, while he, the father,
+after having failed to overawe her just now, was there in a corner
+suffering agonizedly.
+
+Koupriane walked over to him and said:
+
+"Listen to me carefully, Feodor Feodorovitch.  He who speaks to you
+is Head of the Police by the will of the Tsar, and your friend by
+the grace of God.  If you do not demand before us, who are acquainted
+with all that has happened and who know how to keep any necessary
+secret, if you do not demand of your daughter the reason for her
+conduct with Michael Nikolaievitch, and if she does not tell you
+in all sincerity, there is nothing more for me to do here.  My men
+have already been ordered away from this house as unworthy to guard
+the most loyal subject of His Majesty; I have not protested, but
+now I in my turn ask you to prove to me that the most dangerous
+enemy you have had in your house is not your daughter."
+
+These words, which summed up the horrible situation, came as a
+relief for Feodor.  Yes, they must know.  Koupriane was right.  She
+must speak.  He ordered his daughter to tell everything, everything.
+
+Natacha fixed Koupriane again with her look of hatred to the death,
+turned from him and repeated in a firm voice:
+
+"I have nothing to say."
+
+"There is the accomplice of your assassins," growled Koupriane then,
+his arm extended.
+
+Natacha uttered a cry like a wounded beast and fell at her father's
+feet.  She gathered them within her supplicating arms.  She pressed
+them to her breasts.  She sobbed from the bottom of her heart.  And
+he, not comprehending, let her lie there, distant, hostile, somber.
+Then she moaned, distractedly, and wept bitterly, and the dramatic
+atmosphere in which she thus suddenly enveloped Feodor made it all
+sound like those cries of an earlier time when the all-powerful,
+punishing father appeared in the women's apartments to punish the
+culpable ones.
+
+"My father!  Dear Father!  Look at me!  Look at me!  Have pity on
+me, and do not require me to speak when I must be silent forever.
+And believe me!  Do not believe these men!  Do not believe Matrena
+Petrovna.  And am I not your daughter? Your very own daughter!  Your
+Natacha Feodorovna!  I cannot make things dear to you.  No, no, by
+the Holy Virgin Mother of Jesus I cannot explain.  By the holy ikons,
+it is because I must not.  By my mother, whom I have not known and
+whose place you have taken, oh, my father, ask me nothing more!
+Ask me nothing more!  But take me in your arms as you did when I
+was little; embrace me, dear father; love me.  I never have had such
+need to be loved.  Love me!  I am miserable.  Unfortunate me, who
+cannot even kill myself before your eyes to prove my innocence and
+my love.  Papa, Papa!  What will your arms be for in the days left
+you to live, if you no longer wish to press me to your heart? Papa!
+Papa!"
+
+She laid her head on Feodor's knees.  Her hair had come down and
+hung about her in a magnificent disorderly mass of black.
+
+"Look in my eyes!  Look in my eyes!  See how they love you,
+Batouchka!  Batouchka!  My dear Batouchka!"
+
+Then Feodor wept.  His great tears fell upon Natacha's tears.  He
+raised her head and demanded simply in a broken voice:
+
+"You can tell me nothing now?  But when will you tell me?"
+
+Natacha lifted her eyes to his, then her look went past him toward
+heaven, and from her lips came just one word, in a sob:
+
+"Never."
+
+Matrena Petrovna, Koupriane and the reporter shuddered before the
+high and terrible thing that happened then.  Feodor had taken his
+daughter's face between his hands.  He looked long at those eyes
+raised toward heaven, the mouth which had just uttered the word
+"Never," then, slowly, his rude lips went to the tortured, quivering
+lips of the girl.  He held her close.  She raised her head wildly,
+triumphantly, and cried, with arm extended toward Matrena Petrovna:
+
+"He believes me!  He believes me!  And you would have believed me
+also if you had been my real mother."
+
+Her head fell back and she dropped unconscious to the floor.  Feodor
+fell to his knees, tending her, deploring her, motioning the others
+out of the room.
+
+"Go away!  All of you, go!  All!  You, too, Matrena Petrovna.  Go
+away!"
+
+They disappeared, terrified by his savage gesture.
+
+In the little datcha across the river at Krestowsky there was a
+body.  Secret Service agents guarded it while they waited for their
+chief.  Michael Nikolaievitch had come there to die, and the police
+had reached him just at his last breath.  They were behind him as,
+with the death-rattle in his throat, he pulled himself into his
+chamber and fell in a heap.  Katharina the Bohemian was there.  She
+bent her quick-witted, puzzled head over his death agony.  The
+police swarmed everywhere, ransacking, forcing locks, pulling
+drawers from the bureau and tables, emptying the cupboards.  Their
+search took in everything, even to ripping the mattresses, and not
+respecting the rooms of Boris Mourazoff, who was away this night.
+They searched thoroughly, but they found absolutely nothing they
+were looking for in Michael's rooms.  But they accumulated a
+multitude of publications that belonged to Boris: Western books,
+essays on political economy, a history of the French Revolution,
+and verses that a man ought to hang for.  They put them all under
+seal.  During the search Michael died in Katharina's arms.  She
+had held him close, after opening his clothes over the chest,
+doubtless to make his last breaths easier.  The unfortunate officer
+had received a bullet at the back of the head just after he had
+plunged into the Neva from the rear of the Trebassof datcha and
+started to swim across.  It was a miracle that he had managed to
+keep going.  Doubtless he hoped to die in peace if only he could
+reach his own house.  He apparently had believed he could manage
+that once he had broken through his human bloodhounds.  He did not
+know he was recognized and his place of retreat therefore known.
+
+Now the police had gone from cellar to garret.  Koupriane came from
+the Trebassof villa and joined them, Rouletabille followed him.
+The reporter could not stand the sight of that body, that still had
+a lingering warmth, of the great open eyes that seemed to stare at
+him, reproaching him for this violent death.  He turned away in
+distaste, and perhaps a little in fright.  Koupriane caught the
+movement.
+
+"Regrets?" he queried.
+
+"Yes," said Rouletabille.  "A death always must be regretted.  None
+the less, he was a criminal.  But I'm sincerely sorry he died before
+he had been driven to confess, even though we are sure of it."
+
+"Being in the pay of the Nihilists, you mean?  That is still your
+opinion?" asked Koupriane.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You know that nothing has been found here in his rooms.  The only
+compromising papers that have been found belong to Boris Mourazoff."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Oh - nothing."
+
+Koupriane questioned his men further.  They replied categorically.
+No, nothing had been found that directly incriminated anybody; and
+suddenly Rouletabille noted that the conversation of the police and
+their chief had grown more animated.  Koupriane had become angry
+and was violently reproaching them.  They excused themselves with
+vivid gesture and rapid speech.
+
+Koupriane started away.  Rouletabille followed him.  What had
+happened?
+
+As he came up behind Koupriane, he asked the question.  In a few
+curt words, still hurrying on, Koupriane told the reporter he had
+just learned that the police had left the little Bohemian Katharina
+alone for a moment with the expiring officer.  Katharina acted as
+housekeeper for Michael and Boris.  She knew the secrets of them
+both.  The first thing any novice should have known was to keep a
+constant eye upon her, and now no one knew where she was.  She must
+be searched for and found at once, for she had opened Michael's
+shirt, and therein probably lay the reason that no papers were found
+on the corpse when the police searched it.  The absence of papers,
+of a portfolio, was not natural.
+
+The chase commenced in the rosy dawn of the isles.  Already
+blood-like tints were on the horizon.  Some of the police cried
+that they had the trail.  They ran under the trees, because it was
+almost certain she had taken the narrow path leading to the bridge
+that joins Krestowsky to Kameny-Ostrow.  Some indications discovered
+by the police who swarmed to right and left of the path confirmed
+this hypothesis.  And no carriage in sight!  They all ran on,
+Koupriane among the first.  Rouletabille kept at his heels, but he
+did not pass him.  Suddenly there were cries and calls among the
+police.  One pointed out something below gliding upon the sloping
+descent.  It was little Kathanna.  She flew like the wind, but in
+a distracted course.  She had reached Kameny-Ostrow on the west
+bank.  "Oh, for a carriage, a horse!" clamored Koupriane, who had
+left his turn-out at Eliaguine.  "The proof is there.  It is the
+final proof of everything that is escaping us!"
+
+Dawn was enough advanced now to show the ground clearly.  Katharina
+was easily discernible as she reached the Eliaguine bridge.  There
+she was in Eliaguine-Ostrow.  What was she doing there? Was she
+going to the Trebassof villa?  What would she have to say to them?
+No, she swerved to the right.  The police raced behind her.  She
+was still far ahead, and seemed untiring.  Then she disappeared
+among the trees, in the thicket, keeping still to the right.
+Koupriane gave a cry of joy.  Going that way she must be taken.  He
+gave some breathless orders for the island to be barred.  She could
+not escape now!  She could not escape!  But where was she going?
+Koupriane knew that island better than anybody.  He took a short
+cut to reach the other side, toward which Katharina seemed to be
+heading, and all at once he nearly fell over the girl, who gave a
+squawk of surprise and rushed away, seeming all arms and legs.
+
+"Stop, or I fire!" cried Koupriane, and he drew his revolver.  But
+a hand grabbed it from him.
+
+"Not that!" said Rouletabille, as be threw the revolver far from
+them.  Koupriane swore at him and resumed the chase.  His fury
+multiplied his strength, his agility; he almost reached Katharina,
+who was almost out of breath, but Rouletabille threw himself into
+the Chief's arms and they rolled together upon the grass.  When
+Koupriane rose, it was to see Katharina mounting in mad haste the
+stairs that led to the Barque, the floating restaurant of the
+Strielka.  Cursing Rouletabille, but believing his prey easily
+captured now, the Chief in his turn hurried to the Barque, into
+which Katharina had disappeared.  He reached the bottom of the
+stairs.  On the top step, about to descend from the festive place,
+the form of Prince Galltch appeared.  Koupriane received the sight
+like a blow stopping him short in his ascent.  Galitch had an
+exultant air which Koupriane did not mistake.  Evidently he had
+arrived too late.  He felt the certainty of it in profound
+discouragement.  And this appearance of the prince on the Barque
+explained convincingly enough the reason for Katharina's flight
+here.
+
+If the Bohemian had filched the papers or the portfolio from the
+dead, it was the prince now who had them in his pocket.
+
+Koupriane, as he saw the prince about to pass him, trembled.  The
+prince saluted him and ironically amused himself by inquiring:
+
+"Well, well, how do you do, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.  Your
+Excellency has risen in good time this morning, it seems to me.
+Or else it is I who start for bed too late."
+
+"Prince," said Koupriane, "my men are in pursuit of a little Bohemian
+named Katharina, well known in the restaurants where she sings.  We
+have seen her go into the Barque.  Have you met her by any chance?"
+
+"Good Lord, Monsieur Koupriane, I am not the concierge of the Barque,
+and I have not noticed anything at all, and nobody.  Besides, I am
+naturally a little sleepy.  Pardon me."
+
+"Prince, it is not possible that you have not seen Katharina."
+
+"Oh, Monsieur the Prefect of Police, if I had seen her I would not
+tell you about it, since you are pursuing her.  Do you take me for
+one of your bloodhounds?  They say you have them in all classes,
+but I insist that I haven't enlisted yet.  You have made a mistake,
+Monsieur Koupriane."
+
+The prince saluted again.  But Koupriane still stood in his way.
+
+"Prince, consider that this matter is very serious.  Michael
+Nikolaievitch, General Trebassof's orderly, is dead, and this
+little girl has stolen his papers from his body.  All persons who
+have spoken with Katharina will be under suspicion.  This is an
+affair of State, monsieur, which may reach very far.  Can you
+swear to me that you have not seen, that you have not spoken to
+Katharina?"
+
+The prince looked at Koupriane so insolently that the Prefect turned
+pale with rage.  Ah, if he were able - if he only dared!  - but such
+men as this were beyond him.  Galitch walked past him without a word
+of answer, and ordered the schwitzar to call him a carriage.
+
+"Very well," said Koupriane, "I will make my report to the Tsar."
+
+Galitch turned.  He was as pale as Koupriane.
+
+"In that case, monsieur," said he, "don't forget to add that I am
+His Majesty's most humble servant."
+
+The carriage drew up.  The prince stepped in.  Koupriane watched
+him roll away, raging at heart and with his fists doubled.  Just
+then his men came up.
+
+"Go.  Search," he said roughiy, pointing into the Barque.
+
+They scattered through the establishment, entering all the rooms.
+Cries of irritation and of protest arose.  Those lingering after
+the latest of late suppers were not pleased at this invasion of the
+police.  Everybody had to rise while the police looked under the
+tables, the benches, the long table-cloths.  They went into the
+pantries and down into the bold.  No sign of Katharina.  Suddenly
+Koupriane, who leaned against a netting and looked vaguely out upon
+the horizon, waiting for the outcome of the search, got a start.
+Yonder, far away on the other side of the river, between a little
+wood and the Staria Derevnia, a light boat drew to the shore, and a
+little black spot jumped from it like a flea.  Koupriane recognized
+the little black spot as Kathanna.  She was safe.  Now he could not
+reach her.  It would be useless to search the maze of the Bohemian
+quarter, where her country-people lived in full control, with
+customs and privileges that had never been infringed.  The entire
+Bohemian population of the capital would have risen against him.
+It was Prince Galitch who had made him fail.  One of his men came
+to him:
+
+"No luck," said he.  "We have not found Katharina, but she has been
+here nevertheless.  She met Prince Galitch for just a minute, and
+gave him something, then went over the other side into a canoe."
+
+"Very well," and the Prefect shrugged his shoulders.  "I was sure of
+it."
+
+He felt more and more, exasperated.  He went down along the river
+edge and the first person he saw was Rouletabille, who waited for
+him without any impatience, seated philosophically on a bench.
+
+"I was looking for you," cried the Prefect.  "We have failed.  By
+your fault!  If you had not thrown yourself into my arms -"
+
+"I did it on purpose," declared the reporter.
+
+"What!  What is that you say? You did it on purpose?"
+
+Koupriane choked with rage.
+
+"Your Excellency," said Rouletabille, taking him by the arm, "calm
+yourself.  They are watching us.  Come along and have a cup of tea
+at Cubat's place.  Easy now, as though we were out for a walk."
+
+"Will you explain to me?"
+
+"No, no, Your Excellency.  Remember that I have promised you General
+Trebassof's life in exchange for your prisoner's.  Very well; by
+throwing myself in your arms and keeping you from reaching Katharina,
+I saved the general's life.  It is very simple."
+
+"Are you laughing at me?  Do you think you can mock me?"
+
+But the prefect saw quickly that Rouletabille was not fooling and
+had no mockery in his manner.
+
+"Monsieur," he insisted, "since you speak seriously, I certainly
+wish to understand -"
+
+"It is useless," said Rouletabille.  "It is very necessary that you
+should not understand."
+
+"But at least..."
+
+"No, no, I can't tell you anything."
+
+"When, then, will you tell me something to explain your unbelievable
+conduct?"
+
+Rouletabille stopped in his tracks and declared solemnly:
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane, recall what Natacha Feodorovna as she raised her
+lovely eyes to heaven, replied to her father, when he, also, wished
+to understand:  'Never.'"
+
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE POISON CONTINUES
+
+At ten o'clock that morning Rouletabille went to the Trebassof
+villa, which had its guard of secret agents again, a double guard,
+because Koupriane was sure the Nihilists would not delay in avenging
+Michael's death.  Rouletabille was met by Ermolai, who would not
+allow him to enter.  The faithful servant uttered some explanation
+in Russian, which the young man did not understand, or, rather,
+Rouletabille understood perfectly from his manner that henceforth
+the door of the villa was closed to him.  In vain he insisted on
+seeing the general, Matrena Petrovna and Mademoiselle Natacha.
+Ermolai made no reply but "Niet, niet, niet."  The reporter turned
+away without having seen anyone, and walked away deeply depressed.
+He went afoot clear into the city, a long promenade, during which
+his brain surged with the darkest forebodings.  As he passed by the
+Department of Police he resolved to see Koupriane again.  He went
+in, gave his name, and was ushered at once to the Chief of Police,
+whom he found bent over a long report that he was reading through
+with noticeable agitation.
+
+"Gounsovski has sent me this," he said in a rough voice, pointing
+to the report.  "Gounsovski, 'to do me a service,' desires me to
+know that he is fully aware of all that happened at the Trebassof
+datcha last night.  He warns me that the revolutionaries have
+decided to get through with the general at once, and that two of
+them have been given the mission to enter the datcha in any way
+possible.  They will have bombs upon their bodies and will blow
+the bombs and themselves up together as soon as they are beside the
+general.  Who are the two victims designated for this horrible
+vengeance, and who have light-heartedly accepted such a death for
+themselves as well as for the general?  That is what we don't know.
+That is what we would have known, perhaps, if you had not prevented
+me from seizing the papers that Prince Galitch has now," Koupriane
+finished, turning hostilely toward Rouletabille.
+
+Rouletabille had turned pale.
+
+"Don't regret what happened to the papers," he said.  "It is I who
+tell you not to.  But what you say doesn't surprise me.  They must
+believe that Natacha has betrayed them."
+
+"Ah, then you admit at last that she really is their accomplice?"
+
+"I haven't said that and I don't admit it.  But I know what I mean,
+and you, you can't.  Only, know this one thing, that at the present
+moment I am the only person able to save you in this horrible
+situation.  To do that I must see Natacha at once.  Make her
+understand this, while I wait at my hotel for word.  I'll not leave
+it."
+
+Rouletabille saluted Koupriane and went out.
+
+Two days passed, during which Rouletabille did not receive any word
+from either Natacha or Koupriane, and tried in vain to see them.
+He made a trip for a few hours to Finland, going as far as Pergalovo,
+an isolated town said to be frequented by the revolutionaries, then
+returned, much disturbed, to his hotel, after having written a last
+letter to Natacha imploring an interview.  The minutes passed very
+slowly for him in the hotel's vestibule, where he had seemed to have
+taken up a definite residence.
+
+Installed on a bench, he seemed to have become part of the hotel
+staff, and more than one traveler took him for an interpreter.
+Others thought he was an agent of the Secret Police appointed to
+study the faces of those arriving and departing.  What was he
+waiting for, then?  Was it for Annouchka to return for a luncheon
+or dinner in that place that she sometimes frequented?  And did he
+at the same time keep watch upon Annouchka's apartments just across
+the way?  If that was so, he could only bewail his luck, for
+Annouchka did not appear either at her apartments or the hotel, or
+at the Krestowsky establishment, which had been obliged to suppress
+her performance.  Rouletabille naturally thought, in the latter
+connection, that some vengeance by Gounsovski lay back of this,
+since the head of the Secret Service could hardly forget the way he
+had been treated.  The reporter could see already the poor singer,
+in spite of all her safeguards and the favor of the Imperial family,
+on the road to the Siberian steppes or the dungeons of Schlusselbourg.
+
+"My, what a country!" he murmured.
+
+But his thoughts soon quit Annouchka and returned to the object of
+his main preoccupation.  He waited for only one thing, and for that
+as soon as possible - to have a private interview with Natacha.  He
+had written her ten letters in two days, but they all remained
+unanswered.  It was an answer that he waited for so patiently in
+the vestibule of the hotel - so patiently, but so nervously, so
+feverishly.
+
+When the postman entered, poor Rouletabille's heart beat rapidly.
+On that answer he waited for depended the formidable part he meant
+to play before quitting Russia.  He had accomplished nothing up to
+now, unless he could play his part in this later development.
+
+But the letter did not come.  The postman left, and the schwitzar,
+after examining all the mail, made him a negative sign.  Ah, the
+servants who entered, and the errand-boys, how he looked at them!
+But they never came for him.  Finally, at six o'clock in the evening
+of the second day, a man in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan
+collar, came in and handed the concierge a letter for Joseph
+Rouletabille.  The reporter jumped up.  Before the man was out the
+door he had torn open the letter and read it.  The letter was not
+from Natacha.  It was from Gounsovski.  This is what it said:
+
+"My dear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, if it will not inconvenience
+you, I wish you would come and dine with me to-day.  I will look
+for you within two hours.  Madame Gounsovski will be pleased to make
+your acquaintance.  Believe me your devoted Gounsovski."
+
+Rouletabille considered, and decided:
+
+"I will go.  He ought to have wind of what is being plotted, and as
+for me, I don't know where Annoucbka has gone.  I have more to learn
+from him than he has from me.  Besides, as Athanase Georgevitch said,
+one may regret not accepting the Head of the Okrana's pleasant
+invitation."
+
+From six o'clock to seven he still waited vainly for Natacha's
+response.  At seven o'clock, he decided to dress for the dinner.
+Just as he rose, a messenger arrived.  There was still another
+letter for Joseph Rouletabille.  This time it was from Natacha, who
+wrote him:
+
+"General Trebassof and my step-mother will be very happy to have
+you come to dinner to-day.  As for myself, monsieur, you will pardon
+me the order which has closed to you for a number of days a dwelling
+where you have rendered services which I shall not forget all my
+life."
+
+The letter ended with a vague polite formula.  With the letter in
+his hand the reporter sat in thought.  He seemed to be asking
+himself, "Is it fish or flesh?"  Was it a letter of thanks or of
+menace?  That was what he could not decide.  Well, he would soon
+know, for he had decided to accept that invitation.  Anything that
+brought him and Natacha into communication at the moment was a thing
+of capital importance to him.  Half-an-hour later he gave the
+address of the villa to an isvotchick, and soon he stepped out
+before the gate where Ermolai seemed to be waiting for him.
+
+Rouletabille was so occupied by thought of the conversation he was
+going to have with Natacha that he had completely forgotten the
+excellent Monsieur Gounsovski and his invitation.
+
+The reporter found Koupriane's agents making a close-linked chain
+around the grounds and each watching the other.  Matrena had not
+wished any agent to be in house.  He showed Koupriane's pass and
+entered.
+
+Ermolai ushered Rouletabille in with shining face.  He seemed glad
+to have him there again.  He bowed low before him and uttered many
+compliments, of which the reporter did not understand a word.
+Rouletablle passed on, entered the garden and saw Matrena Petrovna
+there walking with her step-daughter.  They seemed on the best of
+terms with each other.  The grounds wore an air of tranquillity and
+the residents seemed to have totally forgotten the somber tragedy
+of the other night.  Matrena and Natacha came smilingly up to the
+young man, who inquired after the general.  They both turned and
+pointed out Feodor Feodorovitch, who waved to him from the height
+of the kiosk, where it seemed the table had been spread. They were
+going to dine out of doors this fine night.
+
+"Everything goes very well, very well indeed, dear little domovoi,"
+said Matrena.  "How glad it is to see you and thank you.  If you
+only knew how I suffered in your absence, I who know how unjust my
+daughter was to you.  But dear Natacha knows now what she owes you.
+She doesn't doubt your word now, nor your clear intelligence, little
+angel.  Michael Nikolaievitch was a monster and he was punished as
+he deserved.  You know the police have proof now that he was one of
+the Central Revolutionary Committee's most dangerous agents.  And
+he an officer!   Whom can we trust now!"
+
+"And Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, have you seen him since?" inquired
+Rouletabille.
+
+"Boris called to see us to-day, to say good-by, but we did not
+receive him, under the orders of the police.  Natacha has written
+to tell him of Koupriane's orders.  We have received letters from
+him; he is quitting St. Petersburg.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Well, after the frightful bloody scene in his little house, when
+he learned how Michael Nikolaievitch had found his death, and after
+he himself had undergone a severe grilling from the police, and
+when he learned the police had sacked his library and gone through
+his papers, he resigned, and has resolved to live from now on out
+in the country, without seeing anyone, like the philosopher and
+poet he is.  So far as I am concerned, I think he is doing absolutely
+right.  When a young man is a poet, it is useless to live like a
+soldier.  Someone has said that, I don't know the name now, and
+when one has ideas that may upset other people, surely they ought
+to live in solitude."
+
+Rouletabille looked at Natacha, who was as pale as her white gown,
+and who added no word to her mother's outburst.  They had drawn near
+the kiosk.  Rouletabille saluted the general, who called to him to
+come up and, when the young man extended his hand, he drew him
+abruptly nearer and embraced him.  To show Rouletabille how active
+he was getting again, Feodor Feodorovitch marched up and down the
+kiosk with only the aid of a stick.  He went and came with a sort
+of wild, furious gayety.
+
+"They haven't got me yet, the dogs.  They haven't got me!  And one
+(he was thinking of Michael) who saw me every day was here just for
+that.  Very well.  I ask you where he is now.  And yet here I am!
+An attack!  I'm always here!  But with a good eye; and I begin to
+have a good leg.  We shall see.  Why, I recollect how, when I was
+at Tiflis, there was an insurrection in the Caucasus.  We fought.
+Several times I could feel the swish of bullets past my hair.  My
+comrades fell around me like flies.  But nothing happened to me,
+not a thing.  And here now!  They will not get me, they will not
+get me.  You know how they plan now to come to me, as living bombs.
+Yes, they have decided on that.  I can't press a friend's hand any
+more without the fear of seeing him explode.  What do you think of
+that?  But they won't get me.  Come, drink my health.  A small
+glass of vodka for an appetizer.  You see, young man, we are going
+to have zakouskis here.  What a marvelous panorama!  You can see
+everything from here.  If the enemy comes," he added with a singular
+loud laugh, "we can't fail to detect him."
+
+Certainly the kiosk did rise high above the garden and was
+completely detached, no wall being near.  They had a clear view.
+No branches of trees hung over the roof and no tree hid the view.
+The rustic table of rough wood was covered with a short cloth and
+was spread with zakouskis.  It was a meal under the open sky, a
+seat and a glass in the clear azure.  The evening could not have
+been softer and clearer.  And, as the general felt so gay, the
+repast would have promised to be most agreeable, if Rouletabille
+had not noticed that Matrena Petrovna and Natacha were uneasy and
+downcast.  The reporter soon saw, too, that all the general's
+joviality was a little excessive.  Anyone would have said that
+Feodor Feodorovitch spoke to distract himself, to keep himself from
+thinking.  There was sufficient excuse for him after the outrageous
+drama of the other night.  Rouletabille noticed further that the
+general never looked at his daughter, even when he spoke to her.
+There was too formidable a mystery lying between them for restraint
+not to increase day by day.  Rouletabille involuntarily shook his
+head, saddened by all he saw.  His movement was surprised by
+Matrena Petrovna, who pressed his hand in silence.
+
+"Well, now," said the general, "well, now my children, where is the
+vodka?"
+
+Among all the bottles which graced the table the general looked in
+vain for his flask of vodka.  How in the world could he dine if he
+did not prepare for that important act by the rapid absorption of
+two or three little glasses of white wine, between two or three
+sandwiches of caviare!
+
+"Ermolai must have left it in the wine-chest," said Matrena.
+
+The wine-closet was in the dining-room.  She rose to go there, but
+Natacha hurried before her down the little flight of steps, crying,
+"Stay there, mamma.  I will go."
+
+"Don't you bother, either.  I know where it is," cried Rouletabille,
+and hurried after Natacha.
+
+She did not stop.  The two young people arrived in the dining-room at
+the same time.  They were there alone, as Rouletabille had foreseen.
+He stopped Natacha and planted himself in front of her.
+
+"Why, mademoiselle, did you not answer me earlier?"
+
+"Because I don't wish to have any conversation with you."
+
+"If that was so, you would not have come here, where you were sure
+I would follow."
+
+She hesitated, with an emotion that would have been incomprehensible
+to all others perhaps, but was not to Rouletabille.
+
+"Well, yes, I wished to say this to you: Don't write to me any more.
+Don't speak to me.  Don't see me.  Go away from here, monsieur; go
+away.  They will have your life.  And if you have found out anything,
+forget it.  Ah, on the head of your mother, forget it, or you are
+lost.  That is what I wished to tell you.  And now, you go."
+
+She grasped his hand in a quick sympathetic movement that she seemed
+instantly to regret.
+
+"You go away," she repeated.
+
+Rouletabille still held his place before her.  She turned from him;
+she did not wish to hear anything further.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are watched closer than ever.  Who
+will take Michael Nikolaievitch's place?"
+
+"Madman, be silent!  Hush!"
+
+"I am here."
+
+He said this with such simple bravery that tears sprang to her eyes.
+
+"Dear man!  Poor man!  Dear brave man!"  She did not know what to
+say.  Her emotion checked all utterance.  But it was necessary for
+her to enable him to understand that there was nothing he could do
+to help her in her sad straits.
+
+"No.  If they knew what you have just said, what you have proposed
+now, you would be dead to-morrow.  Don't let them suspect.  And
+above all, don't try to see me anywhere.  Go back to papa at once.
+We have been here too long.  What if they learn of it?  - and they
+learn everything!  They are everywhere, and have ears everywhere."
+
+"Mademoiselle, just one word more, a single word.  Do you doubt now
+that Michael tried to poison your father?"
+
+"Ah, I wish to believe it.  I wish to.  I wish to believe it for
+your sake, my poor boy."
+
+Rouletabille desired something besides "I wish to believe it for
+your sake, my poor boy."  He was far from being satisfied.  She saw
+him turn pale.  She tried to reassure him while her trembling hands
+raised the lid of the wine-chest.
+
+"What makes me think you are right is that I have decided myself
+that only one and the same person, as you said, climbed to the
+window of the little balcony.  Yes, no one can doubt that, and you
+have reasoned well."
+
+But he persisted still.
+
+"And yet, in spite of that, you are not entirely sure, since you
+say, 'I wish to believe it, my poor boy.'"
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, someone might have tried to poison my father,
+and not have come by way of the window."
+
+"No, that is impossible."
+
+"Nothing is impossible to them."
+
+And she turned her head away again.
+
+"Why, why," she said, with her voice entirely changed and quite
+indifferent, as if she wished to be merely 'the daughter of the
+house' in conversation with the young man, "the vodka is not in
+the wine chest, after all.  What has Ermolai done with it, then?"
+
+She ran over to the buffet and found the flask.
+
+"Oh, here it is.  Papa shan't be without it, after all."
+
+Rouletabille was already into the garden again.
+
+"If that is the only doubt she has," he said to himself, "I can
+reassure her.  No one could come, excepting by the window.  And
+only one came that way."
+
+The young girl had rejoined him, bringing the flask.  They crossed
+the garden together to the general, who was whiling away the time
+as he waited for his vodka explaining to Matrena Petrovna the nature
+of "the constitution."  He had spilt a box of matches on the table
+and arranged them carefully.
+
+"Here," he cried to Natacha and Rouletabille.  "Come here and I will
+explain to you as well what this Constitution amounts to."
+
+The young people leaned over his demonstration curiously and all
+eyes in the kiosk were intent on the matches.
+
+"You see that match," said Feodor Feodorovitch.  "It is the Emperor.
+And this other match is the Empress; this one is the Tsarevitch;
+and that one is the Grand-duke Alexander; and these are the other
+granddukes.  Now, here are the ministers and there the principal
+governors, and then the generals; these here are the bishops."
+
+The whole box of matches was used up, and each match was in its
+place, as is the way in an empire where proper etiquette prevails
+in government and the social order.
+
+"Well," continued the general, "do you want to know, Matrena
+Petrovna, what a constitution is?  There!  That is the Constitution."
+
+The general, with a swoop of his hand, mixed all the matches.
+Rouletabille laughed, but the good Matrena said:
+
+"I don't understand, Feodor."
+
+"Find the Emperor now."
+
+Then Matrena understood.  She laughed heartily, she laughed
+violently, and Natacha laughed also.  Delighted with his success,
+Feodor Feodorovitch took up one of the little glasses that Natacha
+had filled with the vodka she brought.
+
+"Listen, my children," said he.  "We are going to commence the
+zakouskis.  Koupriane ought to have been here before this."
+
+Saying this, holding still the little glass in his hand, he felt in
+his pocket with the other for his watch, and drew out a magnificent
+large watch whose ticking was easily heard.
+
+"Ah, the watch has come back from the repairer," Rouletabille
+remarked smilingly to Matrena Petrovna.  "It looks like a splendid
+one."
+
+"It has very fine works," said the general.  "It was bequeathed to
+me by my grandfather.  It marks the seconds, and the phases of the
+moon, and sounds the hours and half-hours."
+
+Rouletabille bent over the watch, admiring it.
+
+"You expect M.  Koupriane for dinner?" inquired the young man, still
+examining the watch.
+
+"Yes, but since he is so late, we'll not delay any longer.  Your
+healths, my children," said the general as Rouletabille handed him
+back the watch and he put it in his pocket.
+
+"Your health, Feodor Feodorovitch," replied Matrena Petrovna, with
+her usual tenderness.
+
+Rouletabille and Natacha only touched their lips to the vodka, but
+Feodor Feodorovitch and Matrena drank theirs in the Russian fashion,
+head back and all at a draught, draining it to the bottom and
+flinging the contents to the back of the throat.  They had no more
+than performed this gesture when the general uttered an oath and
+tried to expel what he had drained so heartily.  Matrena Petrovna
+spat violently also, looking with horror at her husband.
+
+"What is it?  What has someone put in the vodka?" cried Feodor.
+
+"What has someone put in the vodka?" repeated Matrena Petrovna in
+a thick voice, her eyes almost starting from her head.
+
+The two young people threw themselves upon the unfortunates.
+Feodor's face had an expression of atrocious suffering.
+
+"We are poisoned," cried the general, in the midst of his chokings.
+"I am burning inside."
+
+Almost mad, Natacha took her father's head in her hands.  She cried
+to him:
+
+"Vomit, papa; vomit!"
+
+"We must find an emetic," cried Rauletabille, holding on to the
+general, who had almost slipped from his arms.
+
+Matrena Petrovna, whose gagging noises were violent, hurried down
+the steps of the kiosk, crossed the garden as though wild-fire were
+behind her, and bounded into the veranda.  During this time the
+general succeeded in easing himself, thanks to Rouletabille, who
+had thrust a spoon to the root of his tongue.  Natacha could do
+nothing but cry, "My God, my God, my God!" Feodor held onto his
+stomach, still crying, "I'm burning, I'm burning!"  The scene was
+frightfully tragic and funny at the same time.  To add to the
+burlesque, the general's watch in his pocket struck eight o'clock.
+Feodor Feodorovitch stood up in a final supreme effort.  "Oh, it is
+horrible!" Matrena Petrovna showed a red, almost violet face as she
+came back; she distorted it, she choked, her mouth twitched, but
+she brought something, a little packet that she waved, and from
+which, trembling frightenedly, she shook a powder into the first
+two empty glasses, which were on her side of the table and were
+those she and the general had drained.  She still had strength to
+fill them with water, while Rouletabille was almost overcome by the
+general, whom he still had in his arms, and Natacha concerned
+herself with nothing but her father, leaning over him as though
+to follow the progress of the terrible poison, to read in his eyes
+if it was to be life or death.  "Ipecac," cried Matrena Petrovna,
+and she made the general drink it.  She did not drink until after
+him.  The heroic woman must have exerted superhuman force to go
+herself to find the saving antidote in her medicine-chest, even
+while the agony pervaded her vitals.
+
+Some minutes later both could be considered saved.  The servants,
+Ermolai at their head, were clustered about.  Most of them had been
+at the lodge and they had not, it appeared, heard the beginning of
+the affair, the cries of Natacha and Rouletabille.  Koupriane
+arrived just then.  It was he who worked with Natacha in getting
+the two to bed.  Then he directed one of his agents to go for the
+nearest doctors they could find.
+
+This done, the Prefect of Police went toward the kiosk where he had
+left Rouletabille.  But Rouletabille was not to be found, and the
+flask of vodka and the glasses from which they had drunk were gone
+also.  Ermolai was near-by, and he inquired of the servant for the
+young Frenchman.  Ermolai replied that he had just gone away,
+carrying the flask and the glasses.  Koupriane swore.  He shook
+Ermolai and even started to give him a blow with the fist for
+permitting such a thing to happen before his eyes without making a
+protest.
+
+Ermolai, who had his own haughtiness, dodged Koupriane's fist and
+replied that he had wished to prevent the young Frenchman, hut the
+reporter had shown him a police-paper on which Koupriane himself
+had declared in advance that the young Frenchman was to do anything
+he pleased.
+
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+PERE ALEXIS
+
+Koupriane jumped into his carriage and hurried toward St. Petersburg.
+On the way he spoke to three agents who only he knew were posted in
+the neighborhood of Eliaguine.  They told him the route Rouletabille
+had taken.  The reporter had certainly returned into the city.  He
+hurried toward Troitski Bridge.  There, at the corner of the
+Naberjnaia, Koupriane saw the reporter in a hired conveyance.
+Rouletabille was pounding his coachman in the back, Russian fashion,
+to make him go faster, and was calling with all his strength one of
+the few words he had had time to learn, "Naleva, naleva" (to the
+left).  The driver was forced to understand at last, for there was
+no other way to turn than to the left.  If he had turned to the
+right (naprava) he would have driven into the river.  The
+conveyance clattered over the pointed flints of a neighborhood that
+led to a little street, Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, at the corner of the
+Katharine canal.  This "alley of the pharmacists" as a matter of
+fact contained no pharmacists, but there was a curious sign of a
+herbarium, where Rouletabille made the driver stop.  As the carriage
+rolled under the arch Rouletabille recognized Koupriane.  He did
+not wait, but cried to him, "Ah, here you are.  All right; follow
+me."  He still had the flask and the glasses in his hands.  Koupriane
+couldn't help noticing how strange he looked.  He passed through a
+court with him, and into a squalid shop.
+
+"What," said Koupriane, "do you know Pere Alexis?"
+
+They were in the midst of a curious litter.  Clusters of dried herbs
+hung from the ceiling, and all among them were clumps of old boots,
+shriveled skins, battered pans, scrap-iron, sheep-skins, useless
+touloupes, and on the floor musty old clothes, moth-eaten furs, and
+sheep-skin coats that even a moujik of the swamps would not have
+deigned to wear.  Here and there were old teeth, ragged finery,
+dilapidated hats, and jars of strange herbs ranged upon some rickety
+shelving.  Between the set of scales on the counter and a heap of
+little blocks of wood used for figuring the accounts of this singular
+business were ungilded ikons, oxidized silver crosses, and Byzantine
+pictures representing scenes from the Old and New Testaments.  Jars
+of alcohol with what seemed to be the skeletons of frogs swimming
+in them filled what space was left.  In a corner of this large,
+murky room, under the vault of mossed stone, a small altar stood
+and the light burned in a hanging glass of oil before the holy
+images.  A man was praying before the altar.  He wore the costume
+of old Russia, the caftan of green cloth, buttoned at the shoulder
+and tucked in at the waist by a narrow belt.  He had a bushy beard
+and his hair fell to his shoulders.  When he had finished his prayer
+he rose, perceived Rouletabille and came over to take his hand.  He
+spoke French to the reporter:
+
+"Well, here you are again, lad.  Do you bring poison again to-day?
+This will end by being found out, and the police..."
+
+Just then he discerned Koupriane's form in the shadow, drew close
+to make out who it was, and fell to his knees as he saw who it was.
+Rouletabille tried to raise him, but he insisted on prostrating
+himself.  He was sure the Prefect of Police had come to his house
+to hang him.  Finally he was reassured by Rouletabile's positive
+assertions and the great chief's robust laugh.  The Prefect wished
+to know how the young man came to be acquainted with the "alchemist"
+of the police.  Rouletabille told him in a few words.
+
+Maitre Alexis, in his youth, went to France afoot, to study pharmacy,
+because of his enthusiasm for chemistry.  But he always remained
+countrified, very much a Russian peasant, a semi-Oriental bear, and
+did not achieve his degree.  He took some certificates, but the
+examinations were too much for him.  For fifty years he lived
+miserably as a pharmacist's assistant in the back of a disreputable
+shop in the Notre Dame quarter.  The proprietor of the place was
+implicated in the famous affair of the gold ingots, which started
+Rouletabille's reputation, and was arrested along with his assistant,
+Alexis.  It was Rouletabille who proved, clear as day, that poor
+Alexis was innocent, and that he had never been cognizant of his
+master's evil ways, being absorbed in the depths of his laboratory
+in trying to work out a naive alchemy which fascinated him, though
+the world of chemistry had passed it by centuries ago.   At the
+trial Alexis was acquitted, but found himself in the street.  He
+shed what tears remained in his body upon the neck of the reporter,
+assuring him of paradise if he got him back to his own country,
+because he desired only the one thing more of life, that he might
+see his birth-land before he died.  Rouletabille advanced the
+necessary means and sent him to St. Petersburg.  There he was picked
+up at the end of two days by the police, in a petty gambling-game,
+and thrown into prison, where he promptly had a chance to show his
+talents.  He cured some of his companions in misery, and even some
+of the guards.  A guard who had an injured leg, whose healing he
+had despaired of, was cured by Alexis.  Then there was found to be
+no actual charge against him.  They set him free and, moreover,
+they interested themselves in him.  They found meager employment
+for him in the Stchoukine-dvor, an immense popular bazaar.  He
+accumulated a few roubles and installed himself on his own account
+at the back of a court in the Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he
+gradually piled up a heap of old odds and ends that no one wanted
+even in the Stchoukine-dvor.  But he was happy, because behind his
+shop he had installed a little laboratory where he continued for
+his pleasure his experiments in alchemy and his study of plants.
+He still proposed to write a book that he had already spoken of in
+France to Rouletabille, to prove the truth of "Empiric Treatment
+of Medicinal Herbs, the Science of Alchemy, and the Ancient
+Experiments in Sorcery."  Between times he continued to cure anyone
+who applied to him, and the police in particular.  The police guards
+protected him and used him.  He had splendid plasters for them after
+"the scandal," as they called the October riots.  So when the
+doctors of the quarter tried to prosecute him for illegal practice,
+a deputation of police-guards went to Koupriane, who took the
+responsibility and discontinued proceedings against him.  They
+regarded him as under protection of the saints, and Alexis soon
+came to be regarded himself as something of a holy man.  He never
+failed every Christmas and Easter to send his finest images to
+Rouletabille, wishing him all prosperity and saying that if ever
+he came to St. Petersburg he should be happy to receive him at
+Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he was established in honest labor.
+Pere Alexis, like all the true saints, was a modest man.
+
+When Alexis had recovered a little from his emotion Rouletabille
+said to him:
+
+"Pere Alexis, I do bring you poison again, but you have nothing to
+fear, for His Excellency the Chief of Police is with me.  Here is
+what we want you to do.  You must tell us what poison these four
+glasses have held, and what poison is still in this flask and this
+little phial."
+
+"What is that little phial?" demanded Koupriane, as he saw
+Rouletabille pull a small, stoppered bottle out of his pocket.
+
+The reporter replied, "I have put into this bottle the vodka that
+was poured into Natacha's glass and mine and that we barely touched."
+
+"Someone has tried to poison you!" exclaimed Pere Alexis.
+
+"No, not me," replied Rouletabille, in bored fashion.  "Don't think
+about that.  Simply do what I tell you.  Then analyze these two
+napkins, as well."
+
+And he drew from his coat two soiled napkins.
+
+"Well," said Koupriane, "you have thought of everything."
+
+"They are the napkins the general and his wife used."
+
+"Yes, yes, I understand that," said the Chief of Police.
+
+"And you, Alexis, do you understand?" asked the reporter.  "When
+can we have the result of your analysis?
+
+"In an hour, at the latest."
+
+"Very well," said Koupriane.  "Now I need not tell you to hold your
+tongue.  I am going to leave one of my men here.  You will write us
+a note that you will seal, and he will bring it to head-quarters.
+Sure you understand?  In an hour?"
+
+"In an hour, Excellency."
+
+They went out, and Alexis followed them, bowing to the floor.
+Koupriane had Rouletabille get into his carriage.  The young man
+did as he was told.  One would have said he did not know where he
+was or what he did.  He made no reply to the chief's questions.
+
+"This Pere Alexander," resumed Koupriane, "is a character, really
+quite a figure.  And a bit of a schemer, I should say.  He has seen
+how Father John of Cronstadt succeeded, and he says to himself,
+'Since the sailors had their Father John of Cronstadt, why shouldn't
+the police-guard have their Father Alexis of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok?'"
+
+But Rouletabille did not reply at all, and Koupriane wound up by
+demanding what was the matter with him.
+
+"The matter is," replied Rouletabille, unable longer to conceal his
+anguish, "that the poison continues."
+
+"Does that astonish you?" returned Koupriane.  "It doesn't me."
+
+Rouletabille looked at him and shook his head.  His lips trembled
+as he said, "I know what you think.  It is abominable.  But the
+thing I have done certainly is more abominable still."
+
+"What have you done, then, Monsieur Rouletabille?"
+
+"Perhaps I have caused the death of an innocent man."
+
+"So long as you aren't sure of it, you would better not fret about
+it, my dear friend."
+
+"It is enough that the doubt has arisen," said the reporter, "almost
+to kill me;" and he heaved so gloomy a sigh that the excellent
+Monsieur Koupriane felt pity for the lad.  He tapped him on the knee.
+
+"Come, come, young man, you ought to know one thing by this time
+- 'you can't make omelettes without breaking eggs,' as they say, I
+think, in Paris."
+
+Rouletabille turned away from him with horror in his heart.  If
+there should be another, someone besides Michael!  If it was another
+hand than his that appeared to Matrena and him in the mysterious
+night!  If Michael Nikolaievitch had been innocent!  Well, he
+would kill himself, that was all.  And those horrible words that he
+had exchanged with Natacha rose in his memory, singing in his ears
+as though they would deafen him.
+
+"Do you doubt still?" he had asked her, "that Michael tried to
+poison your father?"
+
+And Natacha had replied, "I wish to believe it!  I wish to believe
+it, for your sake, my poor boy."  And then he recalled her other
+words, still more frightful now!  "Couldn't someone have tried to
+poison my father and not have come by the window?"  He had faced
+such a hypothesis with assurance then - but now, now that the poison
+continued, continued within the house, where he believed himself
+so fully aware of all people and things - continued now that Michael
+Nikolaievitch was dead - ah, where did it come from, this poison?
+- and what was it?  Pere Alexis would hurry his analysis if he had
+any regard for poor Rouletabille.
+
+For Rouletabille to doubt, and in an affair where already there was
+one man dead through his agency, was torment worse than death.
+
+When they arrived at police-headquarters, Rouletabille jumped from
+Koupriane's carriage and without saying a word hailed an empty
+isvotchick that was passing.  He had himself driven back to Pere
+Alexis.  His doubt mastered his will; he could not bear to wait
+away.  Under the arch of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok he saw once more
+the man Koupriane had placed there with the order to bring him
+Alexis's message.  The man looked at him in astonishment.
+Rouletabille crossed the court and entered the dingy old room once
+more.  Pere Alexis was not there, naturally, engaged as he was
+in his laboratory.  But a person whom he did not recognize at first
+sight attracted the reporter's attention.  In the half-light of the
+shop a melancholy shadow leaned over the ikons on the counter.  It
+was only when he straightened up, with a deep sigh, and a little
+light, deflected and yellow from passing through window-panes that
+had known no touch of cleaning since they were placed there, fell
+faintly on the face, that Rouletabille ascertained he was face to
+face with Boris Mourazoff.  It was indeed he, the erstwhile
+brilliant officer whose elegance and charm the reporter had admired
+as he saw him at beautiful Natacha's feet in the datcha at Eliaguine.
+Now, no more in uniform, he had thrown over his bowed shoulders a
+wretched coat, whose sleeves swayed listlessly at his sides, in
+accord with his mood of languid desperation, a felt hat with the
+rim turned down hid a little the misery in his face in these few
+days, these not-many hours, how he was changed!  But, even as he
+was, he still concerned Rouletabille.  What was he doing there?
+Was he not going to go away, perhaps?  He had picked up an ikon
+from the counter and carried it over to the window to examine its
+oxidized silver, giving such close attention to it that the reporter
+hoped he might reach the door of the laboratory without being
+noticed.  He already had his hand on the knob of that door, which
+was behind the counter, when he heard his name called.
+
+"It is you, Monsieur Rouletabille," said the low, sad voice of
+Boris.  "What has brought you here, then?"
+
+"Well, well, Monsieur Boris Mourazoff, unless I'm mistaken?  I
+certainly didn't expect to find you here in Pere Alexis's place."
+
+"Why not, Monsieur Rouletabille?  One can find anything here in
+Pere Alexis's stock.  See; here are two old ikons in wood, carved
+with sculptures, which came direct from Athos, and can't be equaled,
+I assure you, either at Gastini-Dvor nor even at Stchoukine-Dvor"
+
+"Yes, yes, that is possible," said Rouletabille, impatiently.  "Are
+you an amateur of such things?" he added, in order to say something.
+
+"Oh, like anybody else.  But I was going to tell you, Monsieur
+Rouletabille, I have resigned my commission.  I have resolved to
+retire from the world; I am going on a long voyage."  (Rouletabille
+thought: 'Why not have gone at once?')  "And before going, I have
+come here to supply myself with some little gifts to send those of
+my friends I particularly care for, although now, my dear Monsieur
+Rouletabille, I don't care much for anything."
+
+"You look desolate enough, monsieur."
+
+Boris sighed like a child.
+
+"How could it be otherwise?" he said.  "I loved and believed myself
+beloved.  But it proved to be - nothing, alas!"
+
+"Sometimes one only imagines things," said Rouletabille, keeping
+his hand on the door.
+
+"Oh, yes," said the other, growing more and more melancholy.  "So
+a man suffers.  He is his own tormentor; he himself makes the wheel
+on which, like his own executioner, he binds himself."
+
+"It is not necessary, monsieur; it is not necessary," counseled the
+reporter.
+
+"Listen," implored Boris in a voice that showed tears were not far
+away.  "You are still a child, but still you can see things.  Do
+you believe Natacha loves me?"
+
+"I am sure of it, Monsieur Boris; I am sure of it."
+
+"I am sure of it, too.  But I don't know what to think now.  She
+has let me go, without trying to detain me, without a word of hope."
+
+"And where are you going like that?"
+
+"I am returning to the Orel country, where I first saw her."
+
+"That is good, very good, Monsieur Boris.  At least there you are
+sure to see her again.  She goes there every year with her parents
+for a few weeks.  It is a detail you haven't overlooked, doubtless."
+
+"Certainly I haven't.  I will tell you that that prospect decided
+my place of retreat."
+
+"See!"
+
+"God gives me nothing, but He opens His treasures, and each takes
+what he can."
+
+"Yes, yes; and Mademoiselle Natacha, does she know it is to Orel
+you have decided to retire?"
+
+"I have no reason for concealing it from her, Monsieur Rouletabille."
+
+"So far so good.  You needn't feel so desolate, my dear Monsieur
+Boris.  All is not lost.  I will say even that I see a future for
+you full of hope."
+
+"Ah, if you are able to say that truthfully, I am happy indeed to
+have met you.  I will never forget this rope you have flung me when
+all the waters seemed closing over my head.  'What do you advise,
+then?"
+
+"I advise you to go to Orel, monsieur, and as quickly as possible."
+
+"Very well.  You must have reasons for saying that.  I obey you,
+monsieur, and go."
+
+As Boris started towards the entrance-arch, Rouletabille slipped
+into the laboratory.  Old Alexis was bent over his retorts.  A
+wretched lamp barely lighted his obscure work.  He turned at the
+noise the reporter made.
+
+"Ah!-you, lad!"
+
+"'Well?"
+
+"Oh, nothing so quick.  Still, I have already analyzed the two
+napkins, you know."
+
+"Yes?  The stains?  Tell me, for the love of God!"
+
+"Well, my boy, it is arsenate of soda again."
+
+Rouletabille, stricken to the heart, uttered a low cry and everything
+seemed to dance around him.  Pere Alexis in the midst of all the
+strange laboratory instruments seemed Satan himself, and he repulsed
+the kindly arms stretched forth to sustain him; in the gloom, where
+danced here and there the little blue flames from the crucibles,
+lively as flickering tongues, he believed he saw Michael
+Nikolaievitch's ghost come to cry, "The arsenate of soda continues,
+and I am dead."  He fell against the door, which swung open, and he
+rolled as far as the counter, and struck his face against it.  The
+shock, that might well have been fatal, brought him out of his
+intense nightmare and made him instantly himself again.  He rose,
+jumped over the heap of boots and fol-de-rols, and leaped to the
+court.  There Boris grabbed him by his coat.  Rouletabille turned,
+furious:
+
+"What do you want?  You haven't started for the Orel yet?"
+
+"Monsieur, I am going, but I will be very grateful if you will take
+these things yourself to - to Natacha."  He showed him, still with
+despairing mien, the two ikons from Mount Athos, and Rouletabille
+took them from him, thrust them in his pocket, and hurried on,
+crying, "I understand."
+
+Outside, Rouletabille tried to get hold of himself, to recover his
+coolness a little.  Was it possible that he had made a mortal error?
+Alas, alas, how could he doubt it now!  The arsenate of soda
+continued.  He made, a superhuman effort to ward off the horror of
+that, even momentarily - the death of innocent Michael Nikolaievitch
+- and to think of nothing except the immediate consequences, which
+must be carefully considered if he wished to avoid some new
+catastrophe.  Ah, the assassin was not discouraged.  And that time,
+what a piece of work he had tried!  What a hecatomb if he had
+succeeded!  The general, Matrena Petrovna, Natacha and Rouletabille
+himself (who almost regretted, so far as he was concerned, that it
+had not succeeded) - and Koupriane!  Koupriane, who should have
+been there for luncheon.  What a bag for the Nihilists!  That was
+it, that was it.  Rouletabille understood now why they had not
+hesitated to poison everybody at once: Koupriane was among them.
+
+Michael Nikolaievitch would have been avenged!
+
+The attempt had failed this time, but what might they not expect
+now!  From the moment he believed Michael Nikolaievitch no longer
+guilty, as he had imagined, Rouletabille fell into a bottomless
+abyss.
+
+Where should he go?  After a few moments he made the circuit of the
+Rotunda, which serves as the market for this quarter and is the
+finest ornament of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok.  He made the circuit
+without knowing it, without stopping for anything, without seeing
+or understanding anything.  As a broken-winded horse makes its way
+in the treadmill, so he walked around with the thought that he
+also was lost in a treadmill that led him nowhere.  Rouletabille
+was no longer Rouletabille.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE LIVING BOMBS
+
+At random - because now he could only act at random - he returned
+to the datcha.  Great disorder reigned there.  The guard had been
+doubled.  The general's friends, summoned by Trebassof, surrounded
+the two poisoned sufferers and filled the house with their bustling
+devotion and their protestations of affection.  However, an
+insignificant doctor from the common quarter of the Vasili-Ostrow,
+brought by the police, reassured everybody.  The police had not
+found the general's household physician at home, but promised the
+immediate arrival of two specialists, whom they had found instead.
+In the meantime they had picked up on the way this little doctor,
+who was gay and talkative as a magpie.  He had enough to do looking
+after Matrena Petrovna, who had been so sick that her husband,
+Feodor Feodorovitch, still trembled, "for the first time in his
+life," as the excellent Ivan Petrovitch said.
+
+The reporter was astonished at not finding Natacha either in
+Matrena's apartment or Feodor's.  He asked Matrena where her
+step-daughter was.  Matrena turned a frightened face toward him.
+When they were alone, she said:
+
+"We do not know where she is.  Almost as soon as you left she
+disappeared, and no one has seen her since.  The general has asked
+for her several times.  I have had to tell him Koupriane took her
+with him to learn the details from her of what happened."
+
+"She is not with Koupriane," said Rouletabille.
+
+"Where is she?  This disappearance is more than strange at the
+moment we were dying, when her father - O God!  Leave me, my child;
+I am stifling; I am stifling."
+
+Rouletabille called the temporary doctor and withdrew from the
+chamber.  He had come with the idea of inspecting the house room by
+room, corner by corner, to make sure whether or not any possibility
+of entrance existed that he had not noticed before, an entrance
+would-be poisoners were continuing to use.  But now a new fact
+confronted him and overshadowed everything: the disappearance of
+Natacha.  How he lamented his ignorance of the Russian language
+- and not one of Koupriane's men knew French.  He might draw
+something out of Ermolai.
+
+Ermolai said he had seen Natacha just outside the gate for a moment,
+looking up and down the road.  Then he had been called to the
+general, and so knew nothing further.
+
+That was all the reporter could gather from the gestures rather than
+the words of the old servant.
+
+An additional difficulty now was that twilight drew on, and it was
+impossible for the reporter to discern Natacha's foot-prints.  Was
+it true that the young girl had fled at such a moment, immediately
+after the poisoning, before she knew whether her father and mother
+were entirely out of danger?  If Natacha were innocent, as
+Rouletabille still wished to believe, such an attitude was simply
+incomprehensible.  And the girl could not but be aware she would
+increase Koupriane's suspicions.  The reporter had a vital reason
+for seeing her immediately, a vital reason for all concerned, above
+all in this moment when the Nihilists were culminating their plans,
+a vital reason for her and for him, equally menaced with death, to
+talk with her and to renew the propositions he had made a few
+minutes before the poisoning and which she had not wished to hear
+him talk about, in fearful pity for him or in defiance of him.
+Where was Natacha?  He thought maybe she was trying to rejoin
+Annouchka, and there were reasons for that, both if she were innocent
+and if she were guilty.  But where was Annouchka?  Who could say!
+Gounsovski perhaps.  Rouletabille jumped into an isvo, returning
+from the Point empty, and gave Gounsovski's address.  He deigned
+then to recall that he had been invited that same day to dine with
+the Gounsovskis.  They would no longer be expecting him.  He blamed
+himself.
+
+They received him, but they had long since finished dinner.
+
+Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski were playing a game of draughts
+under the lamp.  Rouletabille as he entered the drawing-room
+recognized the shining, fattish bald head of the terrible man.
+Gounsovski came to him, bowing, obsequious, his fat hands held out.
+He was presented to Madame Gounsovski, who was besprinkled with
+jewels over her black silk gown.  She had a muddy skin and
+magnificent eyes.  She also was tentatively effusive.  "We waited
+for you, monsieur," she said, smirking timidly, with the careful
+charm of a woman a little along in years who relies still on
+infantine graces.  As the recreant young man offered his apologies,
+"Oh, we know you are much occupied, Monsieur Rouletabille.  My
+husband said that to me only a moment ago.  But he knew you would
+come finally.  In the end one always accepts my husband's
+invitation." She said this with a fat smile of importance.
+
+Rouletabille turned cold at this last phrase.  He felt actual fear
+in the presence of these two figures, so actrociously commonplace,
+in their horrible, decent little drawing-room.
+
+Madame continued:
+
+"But you have had rather a bad dinner already, through that dreadful
+affair at General Trebassof's.  Come into the dining-room."
+"Ah, so someone has told you?" said Rouletabille.  "No, no, thanks;
+I don't need anything more.  You know what has happened?"
+
+"If you had come to dinner, perhaps nothing would have happened at
+all, you know," said Gounsovski tranquilly, seating himself again
+on the cushions and considering his game of draughts through his
+glasses.  "Anyway, congratulations to Koupriane for being away from
+there through his fear."
+
+For Gounsovski there was only Koupriane!  The life or death of
+Trebassof did not occupy his mind.  Only the acts and movements of
+the Prefect of Police had power to move him.  He ordered a
+waiting-maid who glided into the apartment without making more noise
+than a shadow to bring a small stand loaded with zakouskis and
+bottles of champagne close to the game-table, and he moved one of
+his pawns, saying, "You will permit me?  This move is mine.  I don't
+wish to lose it."
+
+Rouletabille ventured to lay his hand on the oily, hairy fist which
+extended from a dubious cuff.
+
+"What is this you tell me?  How could you have foreseen it?"
+
+"It was easy to foresee everything," replied Gounsovski, offering
+cigars, "to foresee everything from the moment Matiew's place was
+filled by Priemkof."
+
+"Well?" questioned Rouletabille, recalling with some inquietude the
+sight of the whipping in the guards' chapel.
+
+"Well, this Priemkof, between ourselves," (and he bent close to the
+reporter's ear) "is no better, as a police-guard for Koupriane than
+Matiew himself.  Very dangerous.  So when I learned that he took
+Matiew's place at the datcha des Iles, I thought there was sure to
+be some unfortunate happening.  But it was no affair of mine, was
+it?  Koupriane would have been able to say to me, 'Mind your own
+business.'  I had gone far enough in warning him of the 'living
+bombs.'  They had been denounced to us by the same agency that
+enabled us to seize the two living bombs (women, if you please!)
+who were going to the military tribunal at Cronstadt after the
+rebellion in the fleet.  Let him recall that.  That ought to make
+him reflect.  I am a brave man.  I know he speaks ill of me; but I
+don't wish him any harm.  The interests of the Empire before all
+else between us!  I wouldn't talk to you as I do if I didn't know
+the Tsar honors you with his favor.  Then I invited you to dinner.
+As one dines one talks.  But you did not come.  And, while you were
+dining down there and while Priemkof was on guard at the datcha,
+that annoying affair Madame Gounsovski has spoken about happened."
+
+Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski's
+insistences.  He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand
+of the Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering
+them, for this detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which
+had been dark enough for hours and was now deepened by what the
+other had just said.  He comprehended only one thing, that a man
+named Priemkof, whom he had never heard spoken of, as determined as
+Matiew to destroy the general, had been entrusted by Koupriane
+with the guard of the datcha des Iles.  It was necessary to warn
+Koupriane instantly.
+
+"How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur
+Gounsovski?  Why wait to speak about it to me?  It is unimaginable."
+
+"Pardon, pardon," said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his
+goggles; "it is not the same thing."
+
+"No, no, it is not the same thing," seconded the lady with the
+black silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin.  "We speak here to a
+friend in the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the
+police.  We never denounce anybody."
+
+"We must tell you.  But sit down now," Gounsovski still insisted,
+lighting his cigar.  "Be reasonable.  They have just tried to
+poison him, so they will take time to breathe before they try
+something else.  Then, too, this poison makes me think they may
+have given up the idea of living bombs.  Then, after all, what is
+to be will be."
+
+"Yes, yes," approved the ample dame.  "The police never have been
+able to prevent what was bound to happen.  But, speaking of this
+Priemkof, it remains between us, eh?  Between just us?"
+
+"Yes, we must tell you now," Gounsovski slipped in softly, "that it
+will be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the
+information from me.  Because then, you understand, he would not
+believe you; or, rather, he would not believe me.  That is why we
+take these precautions of dining and smoking a cigar.  We speak of
+one thing and another and you do as you please with what we say.
+But, to make them useful, it is absolutely necessary, I repeat, to
+be silent about their source."  (As he said that, Gounsovski gave
+Rouletabille a piercing glance through his goggles, the first time
+Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes.  He never would have
+suspected him capable of such fire.) "Priemkof," continued Gounsovski
+in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously, "was employed
+here in my home and we separated on bad terms, through his fault,
+it is necessary to say.  Then he got into Koupriane's confidence
+by saying the worst he could of us, my dear little monsieur."
+
+"But what could he say?  - servants' stories!  my dear little
+monsieur," repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent
+black eyes furiously.  "Stories that have been treated as they
+deserved at Court, certainly.  Madame Daquin, the wife of His
+Majesty's head-cook, whom you certainly know, and the nephew of the
+second Maid of Honor to the Empress, who stands very well with his
+aunt, have told us so; servants' stories that might have ruined us
+but have not produced any effect on His Majesty, for whom we would
+give our lives, Christ knows.  Well, you understand now that if you
+were to say to Koupriane, 'Gaspadine Gounsovski has spoken ill to
+me of Priemkof,' he would not care to hear a word further.  Still,
+Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs, that is all I can
+tell you; at least, he was before the affair of the poisoning.  That
+poisoning is certainly very astonishing, between us.  It does not
+appear to have come from without, whereas the living bombs will have
+to come from without.  And Priemkof is mixed up in it."
+
+"Yes, yes," approved Madame Gounsovski again, "he is committed to
+it.  There have been stories about him, too.  Other people as well
+as he can tell tales; it isn't hard to do.  He has got to make some
+showing now if he is to keep in with Annouchka's clique."
+
+"Koupriane, our dear Koupriane," interrupted Gounsovski, slightly
+troubled at hearing his wife pronounce Annouchka's name, "Koupriane
+ought to be able to understand that this time Priemkof must bring
+things off, or he is definitely ruined."
+
+"Priemkof knows it well enough," replied Madame as she re-filled
+the glasses, "but Koupriane doesn't know it; that is all we can tell
+you.  Is it enough?  All the rest is mere gossip."
+
+It certainly was enough for Rouletabille; he had had enough of it!
+This idle gossip and these living bombs!  These pinchbecks, these
+whispering tale-tellers in their bourgeois, countrified setting;
+these politico-police comhinations whose grotesque side was always
+uppermost; while the terrible side, the Siberian aspect, prisons,
+black holes, hangings, disappearances, exiles and deaths and
+martyrdoms remained so jealously hidden that no one ever spoke of
+them!  All that weight of horror, between a good cigar and "a little
+glass of anisette, monsieur, if you won't take champagne."  Still,
+he had to drink before he left, touch glasses in a health, promise
+to come again, whenever he wished - the house was open to him.
+Rouletabille knew it was open to anybody - anybody who had a tale
+to tell, something that would send some other person to prison or
+to death and oblivion.  No guard at the entrance to check a visitor
+- men entered Gounsovski's house as the house of a friend, and he
+was always ready to do you a service, certainly!
+
+He accompanied the reporter to the stairs.  Rouletabille was just
+about to risk speaking of Annouchka to him, in order to approach
+the subject of Natacha, when Gounsovski said suddenly, with a
+singular smile:
+
+"By the way, do you still believe in Natacha Trebassof?"
+
+"I shall believe in her until my death," Rouletabille thrust back;
+"but I admit to you that at this moment I don't know where she
+has gone."
+
+"Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and come to tell me to-morrow if you
+will believe in her always," replied Gounsovski, confidentially,
+with a horrid sort of laugh that made the reporter hurry down
+the stairs.
+
+And now here was Priemkof to look after!  Priemkof after Matiew!
+It seemed to the young man that he had to contend against all the
+revolutionaries not only, but all the Russian police as well - and
+Gounsovski himself, and Koupriane!   Everybody, everybody!  But most
+urgent was Priemkof and his living bombs.  What a strange and almost
+incomprehensible and harassing adventure this was between Nihilism
+and the Russian police.  Koupriane and Gounsovski both employed a
+man they knew to be a revolutionary and the friend of revolutionaries.
+Nihilism, on its side, considered this man of the police force as one
+of its own agents.  In his turn, this man, in order to maintain his
+perilous equilibrium, had to do work for both the police and the
+revolutionaries, and accept whatever either gave him to do as it
+came, because it was necessary he should give them assurances of
+his fidelity.  Only imbeciles, like Gapone, let themselves be hanged
+or ended by being executed, like Azef, because of their awkward
+slips.  But a Priemkof, playing both branches of the police, had a
+good chance of living a long time, and a Gounsovski would die
+tranquilly in his bed with all the solaces of religion.
+
+However, the young hearts hot with sincerity, sheathed with dynamite,
+are mysteriously moved in the atrocious darkness of Holy Russia, and
+they do not know where they will be sent, and it is all one to them,
+because all they ask is to die in a mad spiritual delirium of hate
+and love - living bombs!*
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+  *In the trial after the revolt at Cronstadt two young women were
+   charged with wearing bombs as false bosoms.
+____________________________________________________________________
+
+At the corner of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok Rouletabille came in the way
+of Koupriane, who was leaving for Pere Alexis's place and, seeing
+the reporter, stopped his carriage and called that he was going
+immediately to the datcha.
+
+"You have seen Pere Alexis?"
+
+"Yes," said Koupriane.  "And this time I have it on you.  What I
+told you, what I foresaw, has happened.  But have you any news of
+the sufferers?  Apropos, rather a curious thing has happened.  I
+met Kister on the Newsky just now."
+
+"The physician?"
+
+"Yes, one of Trebassof's physicians whom I had sent an inspector to
+his house to fetch to the datcha, as well as his usual associate,
+Doctor Litchkof.  Well, neither Litchkof nor he had been summoned.
+They didn't know anything had happened at the datcha.  They had not
+seen my inspector.  I hope he has met some other doctor on the way
+and, in view of the urgency, has taken him to the datcha."
+
+"That is what has happened," replied Rouletabille, who had turned
+very pale.  "Still, it is strange these gentlemen had not been
+notified, because at the datcha the Trebassofs were told that the
+general's usual doctors were not at home and so the police had
+summoned two others who would arrive at once."
+
+Koupriane jumped up in the carriage.
+
+"But Kister and Litchkof had not left their houses.  Kister, who
+had just met Litchkof, said so.  What does this mean?"
+
+"Can you tell me," asked Rouletabille, ready now for the thunder-clap
+that his question invited, "the name of the inspector you ordered to
+bring them?"
+
+"Priemkof, a man with my entire confidence."
+
+Koupriane's carriage rushed toward the Isles.  Late evening had
+come.  Alone on the deserted route the horses seemed headed for the
+stars; the carriage behind seemed no drag upon them.  The coachman
+bent above them, arms out, as though he would spring into the ether.
+Ah, the beautiful night, the lovely, peaceful night beside the Neva,
+marred by the wild gallop of these maddened horses!
+
+"Priemkof!  Priemkof!  One of Gounsovski's men!  I should have
+suspected him," railed Koupriane after Rouletabille's explanations.
+"But now, shall we arrive in time?"
+
+They stood up in the carriage, urging the coachman, exciting the
+horses: "Scan!  Scan!  Faster, douriak!"  Could they arrive before
+the "living bombs"?  Could they hear them before they arrived?  Ah,
+there was Eliaguine!
+
+They rushed from the one bank to the other as though there were no
+bridges in their insensate course.  And their ears were strained
+for the explosion, for the abomination now to come, preparing slyly
+in the night so hypocritically soft under the cold glance of the
+stars.  Suddenly, "Stop, stop!" Rouletabille cried to the coachman.
+
+"Are you mad!" shouted Koupriane.
+
+"We are mad if we arrive like madmen.  That would make the
+catastrophe sure.  There is still a chance.  If we wish not to lose
+it, then we must arrive easily and calmly, like friends who know
+the general is out of danger."
+
+"Our only chance is to arrive before the bogus doctors.  Either they
+aren't there, or it already is all over.  Priemkof must have been
+surprised at the affair of the poisoning, but he has seized the
+opportunity; fortunately he couldn't find his accomplices immediately."
+
+"Here is the datcha, anyway.  In the name of heaven, tell your driver
+to stop the horses here.  If the 'doctors' are already there it is we
+who shall have killed the general."
+
+"You are right."
+
+Koupriane moderated his excitement and that of his driver and horses,
+and the carriage stopped noiselessly, not far from the datcha.  Ermolai
+came toward them.
+
+"Priemkof?" faltered Koupriane.
+
+"He has gone again, Excellency."
+
+"How - gone again?"
+
+"Yes, but he has brought the doctors."
+
+Koupriane crushed Rouletabille's wrist.  The doctors were there!
+
+"Madame Trebassof is better," continued Ermolai, who understood
+nothing of their emotion.  "The general is going to meet them and
+take them to his wife himself."
+
+"Where are they?"
+
+"They are waiting in the drawing-room."
+
+"Oh, Excellency, keep cool, keep cool, and all is not lost,"
+implored the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille and Koupriane slipped carefully into the garden.
+Ermolai followed them.
+
+"There?" inquired Koupriane.
+
+"There," Ermolai replied.
+
+From the corner where they were, and looking through the veranda,
+they could see the "doctors" as they waited.
+
+They were seated in chairs side by side, in a corner of the
+drawing-room from where they could see every-thing in the room and
+a part of the garden, which they faced, and could hear everything.
+A window of the first-floor was open above their heads, so that
+they could hear any noise from there.  They could not be surprised
+from any side, and they held every door in view.  They were talking
+softly and tranquilly, looking straight before them.  They appeared
+young.  One had a pleasant face, pale but smiling, with rather long,
+curly hair; the other was more angular, with haughty bearing and
+grave face, an eagle nose and glasses.  Both wore long black coats
+buttoned over their calm chests.
+
+Koupriane and the reporter, followed by Ermolai, advanced with the
+greatest precaution across the lawn.  Screened by the wooden steps
+leading to the veranda and by the vine-clad balustrade, they got
+near enough to hear them.  Koupriane gave eager ear to the words
+of these two young men, who might have been so rich in the many
+years of life that naturally belonged to them, and who were about
+to die so horrible a death in destroying all about them.  They
+spoke of what time it was, of the softness of the night and the
+beauty of the sky; they spoke of the shadows under the birch-trees,
+of the gulf shining in the late evening's fading golden light, of
+the river's freshness and the sweetness of springtime in the North.
+That is what they talked about.  Koupriane murmured, "The assassins!"
+
+Now it was necessary to decide on action, and that necessity was
+horrible.  A false movement, an awkwardness, and the "doctors"
+would be warned, and everything lost.  They must have the bombs
+under their coats; there were certainly at least two "living bombs."
+Their chests, as they breathed, must heave to and fro and their
+hearts beat against an impending explosion.
+
+Above on the bedroom floor, they heard the rapid arranging of the
+room, steps on the floor and a confusion of voices; shadows passed
+across the window-space.  Koupriane rapidly interrogated Ermolai
+and learned that all the general's friends were there.  The two
+doctors had arrived only a couple of minutes before the Prefect of
+Police and the reporter.  The little doctor of Vassili-Ostrow had
+already gone, saying there was nothing more for him to do when two
+such celebrated specialists had arrived.  However, in spite of their
+celebrity, no one had ever heard the names they gave.  Koupriane
+believed the little doctor was an accomplice.  The most necessary
+thing was to warn those in the room above.  There was immediate
+danger that someone would come downstairs to find the doctors and
+take them to the general, or that the general would come down
+himself to meet them.  Evidently that was what they were waiting
+for.  They wished to die in his arms, to make sure that this time
+he did not escape them!  Koupriane directed Ermolai to go into the
+veranda and speak in a commonplace way to them at the threshold of
+the drawing-room door, saying that he would go upstairs and see if
+he might now escort them to Madame Trebassof's room.  Once in the
+room above, he could warn the others not to do anything but wait
+for Koupriane; then Ermolai was to come down and say to the men,
+"In just a moment, if you please."
+
+Ermolai crept back as far as the lodge, and then came quite
+normally up the path, letting the gravel crunch under his
+countrified footsteps.  He was an intelligent man, and grasped with
+extraordinary coolness the importance of the plan of campaign.
+Easily and naturally he mounted the veranda steps, paused at the
+threshold of the drawing-room, made the remark he had been told to
+make, and went upstairs.  Koupriane and Rouletabille now watched
+the bedroom windows.  The flitting shadows there suddenly became
+motionless.  All moving about ceased; no more steps were heard,
+nothing.  And that sudden silence made the two "doctors" raise
+their faces toward the ceiling.  Then they exchanged an aroused
+glance.  This change in the manner of things above was dangerous.
+Koupriane muttered, "The idiots!" It was such a blow for those
+upstairs to learn they walked over a mine ready to explode that
+it evidently had paralyzed their limbs.  Happily Ermolai came
+down almost immediately and said to the "doctors" in his very best
+domestic manner:
+
+"Just a second, messieurs, if you please."
+
+He did it still with utter naturalness.  And he returned to the
+ledge before he rejoined Koupriane and Rouletabille by way of the
+lawn.  Rouletabille, entirely cool, quite master of himself, as calm
+now as Koupriane was nervous, said to the Prefect of Police:
+
+"We must act now, and quickly.  They are commencing to be suspicious.
+Have you a plan?"
+
+"Here is all I can see," said Koupriane.  "Have the general come
+down by the narrow servants' stairway, and slip out of the house
+from the window of Natacha's sitting-room, with the aid of a twisted
+sheet.  Matrena Petrovna will come to speak to them during this
+time; that will keep them patient until the general is out of danger.
+As soon as Matrena has withdrawn into the garden, I will call my men,
+who will shoot them from a distance."
+
+"And the house itself?  And the general's friends?"
+
+"Let them try to get away, too, by the servants' stairway and jump
+from the window after the general.  We must try something.  Say that
+I have them at the muzzle of my revolver."
+
+"Your plan won't work," said Rouletabille, "unless the door of
+Natacha's sitting-room that opens on the drawing-room is closed."
+
+"It is.  I can see from here."
+
+"And unless the door of the little passage-way before that staircase
+that opens into the drawing-room is closed also, and you cannot see
+it from here."
+
+"That door is open," said Ermolai.
+
+Koupriane swore.  But he recovered himself promptly.
+
+"Madame Trebassof will close the door when she speaks to them."
+
+"It's impracticable," said the reporter.  "That will arouse their
+suspicions more than ever.  Leave it to me; I have a plan."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I have time to execute it, but not to tell you about it.  They
+have already waited too long.  I shall have to go upstairs, though.
+Ermolai will need to go with me, as with a friend of the family."
+
+"I'll go too."
+
+"That would give the whole show away, if they saw you, the Prefect
+of Police."
+
+"Why, no.  If they see me - and they know I ought to be there - as
+soon as I show myself to them they will conclude I don't know
+anything about it."
+
+"You are wrong."
+
+"It is my duty.  I should be near the general to defend him until
+the last."
+
+Rouletabille shrugged his shoulders before this dangerous heroism,
+but he did not stop to argue.  He knew that his plan must succeed
+at once, or in five minutes at the latest there would be only ruins,
+the dead and the dying in the datcha des Iles.
+
+Still he remained astonishingly calm.  In principle he had admitted
+that he was going to die.  The only hope of being saved which
+remained to them rested entirely upon their keeping perfectly cool
+and upon the patience of the living bombs.  Would they still have
+three minutes' patience?
+
+Ermolai went ahead of Koupriane and Rouletabille.  At the moment
+they reached the foot of the veranda steps the servant said loudly,
+repeating his lesson:
+
+"Oh, the general is waiting for you, Excellency.  He told me to
+have you come to him at once.  He is entirely well and Madame
+Trebassof also."
+
+When they were in the veranda, he added:
+
+"She is to see also, at once, these gentlemen, who will be able to
+tell her there is no more danger."
+
+And all three passed while Koupriane and Rodetabille vaguely saluted
+the two conspirators in the drawing-room.  It was a decisive moment.
+Recognizing Koupriane, the two Nihilists might well believe
+themselves discovered, as the reporter had said, and precipitate
+the catastrophe.  However, Ermolai, Koupriane and Rouletabille
+climbed the stairs to the bedroom like automatons, not daring to
+look behind them, and expecting the end each instant.  But neither
+stirred.  Ermolai went down again, by Rouletabille's order,
+normally, naturally, tranquilly.  They went into Matrena Petrovna's
+chamber.  Everybody was there.  It was a gathering of ghosts.
+
+Here was what had happened above.  That the "doctors" still remained
+below, that they had not been received instantly, in brief, that the
+catastrophe had been delayed up to now was due to Matrena Petrovna,
+whose watchful love, like a watch-dog, was always ready to scent
+danger.  These two "doctors" whose names she did not know, who
+arrived so late, and the precipitate departure of the little doctor
+of Vassili-Ostrow aroused her watchfulness.  Before allowing them
+to come upstairs to the general she resolved to have a look at them
+herself downstairs.  She arose from her bed for that; and now her
+presentiment was justified.  When she saw Ermolai, sober and
+mysterious, enter with Koupriane's message, she knew instinctively,
+before he spoke, that there were bombs in the house.  When Ermolai
+did speak it was a blow for everybody.  At first she, Matrena
+Perovna, had been a frightened, foolish figure in the big flowered
+dressing-gown belonging to Feodor that she had wrapped about her in
+her haste.  When Ermolai left, the general, who knew she only
+trembled for him, tried to reassure her, and, in the midst of the
+frightened silence of all of them, said a few words recalling the
+failure of all the previous attempts.  But she shook her head and
+trembled, shaking with fear for him, in agony at the thought that
+she could do nothing there above those living bombs but wait for
+them to burst.  As to the friends, already their limbs were ruined,
+absolutely ruined, in very truth.  For a moment they were quite
+incapable of moving.  The jolly Councilor of Empire, Ivan Petrovitch,
+had no longer a lively tale to tell, and the abominable prospect of
+"this horrible mix-up" right at hand rendered him much less gay
+than in his best hours at Cubat's place.  And poor Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff was whiter than the snow that covers old Lithuania's
+fields when the winter's chase is on.  Athanase Georgevitch himself
+was not brilliant, and his sanguine face had quite changed, as
+though he had difficulty in digesting his last masterpiece with
+knife and fork.  But, in justice to them, that was the first
+instantaneous effect.  No one could learn like that, all of a
+sudden, that they were about to die in an indiscriminate slaughter
+without the heart being stopped for a little.  Ermolai's words had
+turned these amiable loafers into waxen statues, but, little by
+little, their hearts commenced to beat again and each suggested
+some way of preventing the disaster - all of them sufficiently
+incoherent - while Matrena Petrovna invoked the Virgin and at the
+same time helped Feodor Feodorovitch adjust his sword and buckle
+his belt; for the general wished to die in uniform.
+
+Athanase Georgevitch, his eyes sticking out of his head and his body
+bent as though he feared the Nihlists just below him might perceive
+his tall form - through the floor, no doubt - proposed that they
+should throw themselves out of the window, even at the cost of
+broken legs.  The saddened Councilor of Empire declared that project
+simply idiotic, for as they fell they would be absolutely at the
+disposal of the Nihilists, who would be attracted by the noise and
+would make a handful of dust of them with a single gesture through
+the window.  Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, who couldn't think of anything
+at all, blamed Koupriane and the rest of the police for not having
+devised something.  Why hadn't they already got rid of these
+Nihilists?  After the frightened silence they had kept at first,
+now they all spoke at once, in low voices, hoarse and rapid, with
+shortened breath, making wild movements of the arms and head, and
+walked here and there in the chamber quite without motive, but very
+softly on tiptoe, going to the windows, returning, listening at the
+doors, peering through the key-holes, exchanging absurd suggestions,
+full of the wildest imaginings.  "If we should ... if ... if,"
+- everybody speaking and everybody making signs for the others to
+be quiet.  "Lower!  If they hear us, we are lost."  And Koupriane,
+who did not come, and his police, who themselves had brought two
+assassins into the house, and were not able now to make them leave
+without having everybody jump!  They were certainly lost.  There
+was nothing left but to say their prayers.  They turned to the
+general and Matrena Petrovna, who were wrapped in a close embrace.
+Feodor had taken the poor disheveled head of the good Matrena
+between his hands and pressed it upon his shoulders as he embraced
+her.  He said, "Rest quietly against my heart, Matrena Petrovna.
+Nothing can happen to us except what God wills."
+
+At that sight and that remark the others grew ashamed of their
+confusion.  The harmony of that couple embracing in the presence
+of death restored them to themselves, to their courage, and their
+"Nitchevo."  Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch and Thaddeus
+Tchitchnikoff repeated after Matrena Petrovna, "As God wills."
+And then they said "Nitchevo!  Nitchevo!*  We will all die with
+you, Feodor Feodorovitch."  And they all kissed one another and
+clasped one another in their arms, their eyes dim with love one for
+another, as at the end of a great banquet when they had eaten and
+drunk heavily in honor of one another.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+ *"What does it matter!"
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Listen.  Someone is coming up the stairs," whispered Matrena, with
+her keen ear, and she slipped from the restraint of her husband.
+
+Breathless, they all hurried to the door opening on the landing,
+but with steps as light "as though they walked on eggs."  All four
+of them were leaning over there close by the door, hardly daring
+to breathe.  They heard two men on the stairs.  Were they Koupriane
+and Rouletabille, or were they the others?  They had revolvers in
+their hands and drew back a little when the footsteps sounded near
+the door.  Behind them Trebassof was quietly seated in his chair.
+The door was opened and Koupriane and Rouletabille perceived these
+death-like figures, motionless and mute.  No one dared to speak or
+make a movement until the door had been closed.  But then:
+
+"Well?  Well?  Save us!  Where are they?  Ah, my dear little
+domovoi-doukh, save the general, for the love of the Virgin!"
+
+"Tsst!  tsst!  Silence."
+
+Rouletabille, very pale, but calm, spoke:
+
+"The plan is simple.  They are between the two staircases, watching
+the one and the other.  I will go and find them and make them mount
+the one while you descend by the other."
+
+"Caracho!  That is simple enough.  Why didn't we think of it sooner?
+Because everybody lost his head except the dear little domovoi-doukh!"
+
+But here something happened Rouletabille had not counted on.  The
+general rose and said, "You have forgotten one thing, my young
+friend; that is that General Trebassof will not descend by the
+servants' stairway."
+
+His friends looked at him in stupefaction, and asked if he had gone
+mad.
+
+"What is this you say, Feodor?" implored Matrena.
+
+"I say," insisted the general, "that I have had enough of this
+comedy, and that since Monsieur Koupriane has not been able to
+arrest these men, and since, on their side, they don't seem to
+decide to do their duty, I shall go myself and put them out of my
+house."
+
+He started a few steps, but had not his cane and suddenly he
+tottered.  Matrena Petrovna jumped to him and lifted him in her
+arms as though he were a feather.
+
+"Not by the servants' stairway, not by the servants' stairway,"
+growled the obstinate general.
+
+"You will go," Matrena replied to him, "by the way I take you."
+
+And she carried him back into the apartment while she said quickly
+to Rouletabille:
+
+"Go, little domovoi!  And God protect us!"
+
+Rouletabille disappeared at once through the door to the main
+staircase, and the group attended by Koupriane, passed through the
+dressing-room and the general's chamber, Matrena Petrovna in the
+lead with her precious burden.  Ivan Petrovitch had his hand
+already on the famous bolt which locked the door to the servants'
+staircase when they all turned at the sound of a quick step behind
+them.  Rouletabille had returned.
+
+"They are no longer in the drawing-room."
+
+"Not in the drawing-room!  Where are they, then?"
+
+Rouletabille pointed to the door they were about to open.
+
+"Perhaps behind that door.  Take care!"
+
+All drew back.
+
+"But Ermolai ought to know where they are," exclaimed Koupriane.
+"Perhaps they have gone, finding out they were discovered."
+
+"They have assassinated Ermolai."
+
+"Assassinated Ermolai!"
+
+"I have seen his body lying in the middle of the drawing-room as I
+leaned over the top of the banister.  But they were not in the room,
+and I was afraid you would run into them, for they may well be hidden
+in the servants' stairway."
+
+"Then open the window, Koupriane, and call your men to deliver us."
+
+"I am quite willing," replied Koupriane coldly, "but it is the
+signal for our deaths."
+
+"Well, why do they wait so to make us die?" muttered Feodor
+Feodorovitch.  "I find them very tedious about it, for myself.
+What are you doing, Ivan Petrovitch?"
+
+The spectral figure of Ivan Petrovitch, bent beside the door of the
+stairway, seemed to be hearing things the others could not catch,
+but which frightened them so that they fled from the general's
+chamber in disorder.  Ivan Petrovitch was close on them, his eyes
+almost sticking from his head, his mouth babbling:
+
+"They are there!  They are there!"
+
+Athanase Georgevitch open a window wildly and said:
+
+"I am going to jump."
+
+But Thaddeus Tchitchnikofl' stopped him with a word.  "For me, I
+shall not leave Feodor Feodorovitch."
+
+Athanase and Ivan both felt ashamed, and trembling, but brave, they
+gathered round the general and said, "We will die together, we will
+die together.  We have lived with Feodor Feodorovitch, and we will
+die with him."
+
+"What are they waiting for?   What are they waiting for?" grumbled
+the general.
+
+Matrena Petrovna's teeth chattered.  "They are waiting for us to
+go down," said Koupraine.
+
+"Very well, let us do it.  This thing must end," said Feodor.
+
+"Yes, yes," they all said, for the situation was becoming
+intolerable; "enough of this.  Go on down. Go on down.  God, the
+Virgin and Saints Peter and Paul protect us.  Let us go."
+
+The whole group, therefore, went to the main staircase, with the
+movements of drunken men, fantastic waving of the arms, mouths
+speaking all together, saying things no one but themselves
+understood.  Rouletabille had already hurriedly preceded them, was
+down the staircase, had time to throw a glance into the drawing-room,
+stepped over Ermolai's huge corpse, entered Natacha's sitting-room
+and her chamber, found all these places deserted and bounded back
+into the veranda at the moment the others commenced to descend
+the steps around Feodor Feodorovitch.  The reporter's eyes searched
+all the dark corners and had perceived nothing suspicious when, in
+the veranda, he moved a chair.  A shadow detached itself from it
+and glided under the staircase.  Rouletabille cried to the group
+on the stairs.
+
+"They are under the staircase!"
+
+Then Rouletabille confronted a sight that he could never forget all
+his life.
+
+At this cry, they all stopped, after an instinctive move to go back.
+Feodor Feodorovitch, who was still in Matrena Petrovna's arms, cried:
+
+"Vive le Tsar!"
+
+And then, those whom the reporter half expected to see flee,
+distracted, one way and another, or to throw themselves madly from
+the height of the steps, abandoning Feodor and Matrena, gathered
+themselves instead by a spontaneous movement around the general,
+like a guard of honor, in battle, around the flag.  Koupriane
+marched ahead.   And they insisted also upon descending the terrible
+steps slowly, and sang the Bodje tsara Krani, the national anthem!
+
+With an overwhelming roar, which shocked earth and sky and the ears
+of Rouletabille, the entire house seemed lifted in the air; the
+staircase rose amid flame and smoke, and the group which sang the
+Bodje tsara Krani disappeared in a horrible apotheosis.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+THE MARSHES
+
+They ascertained the next day that there had been two explosions,
+almost simultaneous, one under each staircase.  The two Nihilists,
+when they felt themselves discovered, and watched by Ermolai, had
+thrown themselves silently on him as he turned his back in passing
+them, and strangled him with a piece of twine.  Then they separated
+each to watch one of the staircases, reasoning that Koupriane and
+General Trebassof would have to decide to descend.
+
+The datcha des Iles was nothing now but a smoking ruin.  But from
+the fact that the living bombs had exploded separately the
+destructive effect was diffused, and although there were numerous
+wounded, as in the case of the attack on the Stolypine datcha, at
+least no one was killed outright; that is, excepting the two
+Nihilists, of whom no trace could be found save a few rags.
+
+Rouletabille had been hurled into the garden and he was glad enough
+to escape so, a little shaken, but without a scratch.  The group
+composed of Feodor and his friends were strangely protected by the
+lightness of the datcha's construction.  The iron staircase, which,
+so to speak, almost hung to the two floors, being barely attached
+at top and bottom, raised under them and then threw them off as it
+broke into a thousand pieces, but only after, by its very yielding,
+it had protected them from the first force of the bomb.  They had
+risen from the ruins without mortal wounds.  Koupriane had a hand
+badly burned, Athanase Georgevitch had his nose and cheeks seriously
+hurt, Ivan Petrovitch lost an ear; the most seriously injured was
+Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, both of whose legs were broken.
+Extraordinarily enough, the first person who appeared, rising from
+the midst of the wreckage, was Matrena Petrovna, still holding
+Feodor in her arms.  She had escaped with a few burns and the
+general, saved again by the luck of the soldier whom Death does not
+want, was absolutely uninjured.  Feodor gave shouts of joy.  They
+strove to quiet him, because, after all, around him some poor
+wretches had been badly hurt, as well as poor Ermolai, who lay
+there dead.  The domestics in the basement had been more seriously
+wounded and burned because the main force of the explosion had gone
+downwards; which had probably saved the personages above.
+
+Rouletabille had been taken with the other victims to a neighboring
+datcha; but as soon as he had shaken himself free of that terrible
+nightmare he escaped from the place.  He really regretted that he
+was not dead.  These successive waves of events had swamped him;
+and he accused himself alone of all this disaster.  With acutest
+anxiety he had inquired about the condition of each of "his victims."
+Feodor had not been wounded, but now he was almost delirious, asking
+every other minute as the hours crept on for Natacha, who had not
+reappeared.  That unhappy girl Rouletabille had steadily believed
+innocent.  Was she a culprit?  "Ah, if she had only chosen to!  If
+she had had confidence," he cried, raising anguished hands towards
+heaven, "none of all this need have happened.  No one would have
+attacked and no one would ever again attack the life of Trebassof.
+For I was not wrong in claiming before Koupriane that the general's
+life was in my hand, and I had the right to say to him, 'Life for
+life!  Give me Matiew's and I will give you the general's.' And now
+there has been one more fruitless attempt to kill Feodor
+Feodorovitch and it is Natacha's fault - that I swear, because she
+would not listen to me.  And is Natacha implicated in it?  O my God"
+Rouletabille asked this vain question of the Divinity, for he
+expected no more help in answering it on earth.
+
+Natacha!  Innocent or guilty, where was she?  What was she doing?
+to know that!  To know if one were right or wrong - and if one were
+wrong, to disappear, to die!
+
+Thus the unhappy Rouletabille muttered as he walked along the bank
+of the Neva, not far from the ruins of the poor datcha, where the
+joyous friends of Feodor Feodorovitch would have no more good
+dinners, never; so he soliloquized, his head on fire.
+
+And, all at once, he recovered trace of the young girl, that trace
+lost earlier, a trace left at her moment of flight, after the
+poisoning and before the explosion.  And had he not in that a
+terrible coincidence?  Because the poison might well have been only
+in preparation for the final attack, the pretext for the tragic
+arrival of the two false doctors.   Natacha, Natacha, the living
+mystery surrounded already by so many dead!
+
+Not far from the ruins of the datcha Rouletabille soon made sure
+that a group of people had been there the night before, coming
+from the woods near-by, and returning to them.  He was able to be
+sure of this because the boundaries of the datcha had been guarded
+by troops and police as soon as the explosion took place, under
+orders to keep back the crowd that hurried to Eliaguine.  He looked
+attentively at the grass, the ferns, the broken and trampled twigs.
+Certainly a struggle had occurred there.  He could distinguish
+clearly in the soft earth of a narrow glade the prints of Natacha's
+two little boots among all the large footprints.
+
+He continued his search with his heart heavier and heavier, he had
+a presentiment that he was on the point of discovering a new
+misfortune.  The footprints passed steadily under the branches along
+the side of the Neva.  From a bush he picked a shred of white cloth,
+and it seemed to him a veritable battle had taken place there.
+Torn branches strewed the grass.  He went on.  Very close to the
+bank he saw by examination of the soil, where there was no more
+trace of tiny heels and little soles, that the woman who had been
+found there was carried, and carried, into a boat, of which the
+place of fastening to the bank was still visible.
+
+"They have carried off Natacha," he cried in a surge of anguish.
+"bungler that I am, that is my fault too - all my fault - all my
+fault!  They wished to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch's death, for
+which they hold Natacha responsible, and they have kidnapped her."
+
+His eyes searched the great arm of the river for a boat.  The river
+was deserted.  Not a sail, nothing visible on the dead waters!
+"What shall I do?  What shall I do?  I must save her."
+
+He resumed his course along the river.  Who could give him any
+useful information?  He drew near a little shelter occupied by a
+guard.  The guard was speaking to an officer.  Perhaps he had
+noticed something during his watch that evening along the river.
+That branch of the river was almost always deserted after the day
+was over.  A boat plying between these shores in the twilight would
+certainly attract attention.  Rouletabille showed the guard the
+paper Koupriane had given him in the beginning, and with the officer
+(who turned out to be a police officer) as interpreter, he asked his
+questions.  As a matter of fact the guard had been sufficiently
+puzzled by the doings and comings of a light boat which, after
+disappearing for an instant, around the bend of the river, had
+suddenly rowed swiftly out again and accosted a sailing-yacht which
+appeared at the opening of the gulf.  It was one of those small but
+rapid and elegant sailing craft such as are seen in the Lachtka
+regattas.
+
+Lachtka!  "The Bay of Lachtka!"
+
+The word was a ray of light for the reporter, who recalled now the
+counsel Gounsovski had given him.  "Watch the Bay of Lachtka, and
+tell me then if you still believe Natacha is innocent!"  Gounsovski
+must have known when he said this that Natacha had embarked in
+company with the Nihilists, but evidently he was ignorant that she
+had gone with them under compulsion, as their prisoner.
+
+Was it too late to save Natacha?  In any case, before he died, he
+would try in every way possible, so as at least to have kept her
+as much as he could from the disaster for which he held himself
+responsible.  He ran to the Barque, near the Point.
+
+His voice was firm as he hailed the canoe of the floating restaurant
+where, thanks to him, Koupriane had been thwarted in impotent anger.
+He had himself taken to just below Staria-Derevnia and jumped out
+at the spot where he saw little Katharina disappear a few days
+before.  He landed in the mud and climbed on hands and knees up the
+slope of a roadway which followed the bank.  This bank led to the
+Bay of Lachtka, not far from the frontier of Finland.
+
+On Rouletabille's left lay the sea, the immense gulf with slight
+waves; to his right was the decaying stretch of the marsh.  Stagnant
+water stretching to the horizon, coarse grass and reeds, an
+extraordinary tangle of water-plants, small ponds whose greenish
+scum did not stir under the stiff breeze, water that was heavy and
+dirty.  Along this narrow strip of land thrust thus between the
+marsh, the sky and the sea, he hurried, with many stumblings, his
+eyes fixed on the deserted gulf.  Suddenly he turned his head at
+a singular noise.  At first he didn't see anything, but heard in
+the distance a vague clamoring while a sort of vapor commenced to
+rise from the marsh.  And then he noticed, nearer him, the high
+marsh grasses undulating.  Finally he saw a countless flock rising
+from the bed of the marshes.  Beasts, groups of beasts, whose horns
+one saw like bayonets, jostled each other trying to keep to the firm
+land.  Many of them swam and on the backs of some were naked men,
+stark naked, with hair falling to their shoulders and streaming
+behind them like manes.  They shouted war-cries and waved their
+clubs.  Rouletabille stopped short before this prehistoric invasion.
+He would never have imagined that a few miles from the Newsky
+Prospect he could have found himself in the midst of such a
+spectacle.  These savages had not even a loin-cloth.  Where did they
+come from with their herd?  From what remote place in the world or
+in old and gone history had they emerged?  What was this new
+invasion?  What prodigious slaughter-house awaited these unruly
+herds?  They made a noise like thunder in the marsh.  Here were a
+thousand unkempt haunches undulating in the marsh like the ocean as
+a storm approaches.  The stark-naked men jumped along the route,
+waving their clubs, crying gutturally in a way the beasts seemed
+to understand.  They worked their way out from the marsh and turned
+toward the city, leaving behind, to swathe the view of them a while
+and then fade away, a pestilential haze that hung like an aura about
+the naked, long-haired men.  It was terrible and magnificent.  In
+order not to be shoved into the water, Rouletabille had climbed a
+small rock that stood beside the route, and had waited there as
+though petrified himself.  When the barbarians had finally passed
+by he climbed down again, but the route had become a bog of
+trampled filth.
+
+Happily, he heard the noise of a primitive conveyance behind him.
+It was a telega.  Curiously primitive, the telega is four-wheeled,
+with two planks thrown crudely across the axle-trees.  Rouletabille
+gave the man who was seated in it thee roubles, and jumped into
+the planks beside him, and the two little Finnish horses, whose
+manes hung clear to the mud, went like the wind.  Such crude
+conveyances are necessary on such crude roads, but it requires a
+strong constitution to make a journey on them.  Still, the reporter
+felt none of the jolting, he was so intent on the sea and the coast
+of Lachtka Bay.  The vehicle finally reached a wooden bridge, across
+a murky creek.  As the day commenced to fade colorlessly,
+Rouletabille jumped off onto the shore and his rustic equipage
+crossed to the Sestroriesk side.  It was a corner of land black and
+somber as his thoughts that he surveyed now.  "Watch the Bay of
+Lachtka!"  The reporter knew that this desolate plain, this
+impenetrable marsh, this sea which offered the fugitive refuge in
+innumerable fords, had always been a useful retreat for Nihilistic
+adventurers.  A hundred legends circulated in St. Petersburg about
+the mysteries of Lachtka marshes.  And that gave him his last hope.
+Maybe he would be able to run across some revolutionaries to whom
+he could explain about Natacha, as prudently as possible; he might
+even see Natacha herself.  Gounsovski could not have spoken vain
+words to him.
+
+Between the Lachtkrinsky marsh and the strand he perceived on the
+edge of the forests which run as far as Sestroriesk a little wooden
+house whose walls were painted a reddish-brown, and its roof green.
+It was not the Russian isba, but the Finnish touba.  However, a
+Russian sign announced it to be a restaurant.  The young man had to
+take only a few steps to enter it.  He was the only customer there.
+An old man, with glasses and a long gray beard, evidently the
+proprietor of the establishment, stood behind the counter, presiding
+over the zakouskis.  Rouletabille chose some little sandwiches which
+he placed on a plate.  He took a bottle of pivo and made the man
+understand that later, if it were possible, he would like a good hot
+supper.  The other made a sign that he understood and showed him
+into an adjoining room which was used for diners.  Rouletabille was
+quite ready enough to die in the face of his failures, but he did
+not wish to perish from hunger.
+
+A table was placed beside a window looking out over the sea and
+over the entrance to the bay.  It could not have been better and,
+with his eye now on the horizon, now on the estuary near-by, he
+commenced to eat with gloomy avidity.  He was inclined to feel sorry
+for himself, to indulge in self-pity.  "Just the same, two and two
+always make four," he said to himself; "but in my calculations
+perhaps I have forgotten the surd.  Ah, there was a time when I
+would not have overlooked anything.  And even now I haven't
+overlooked anything, if Natacha is innocent!"  Having literally
+scoured the plate, he struck the table a great blow with his fist
+and said:  "She is!"
+
+Just then the door opened.  Rouletabille supposed the proprietor of
+the place was entering.
+
+It was Koupriane.
+
+He rose, startled.  He could not imagine by what mystery the Prefect
+of Police had made his way there, but he rejoiced from the bottom
+of his heart, for if he was trying to rescue Natacha from the hands
+of the revolutionaries Koupriane would be a valuable ally.  He
+clapped the Prefect on the shoulder.
+
+"Well, well!" he said, almost joyfully.  "I certainly did not expect
+you here.  How is your wound?"
+
+"Nitchevo!  Not worth speaking about; it's nothing."
+
+"And the general and -!  Ah, that frightful night! And those two
+unfortunates who -?"
+
+"Nitchevo!  Nitchevo!"
+
+"And poor Ermolai!"
+
+"Nitchevo!  Nitchevo!  It is nothing."
+
+Rouletabille looked him over.  The Prefect of Police had an arm in
+a sling, but he was bright and shining as a new ten-rouble piece,
+while he, poor Rouletabille, was so abominably soiled and depressed.
+Where did he come from?  Koupriane understood his look and smiled.
+
+"Well, I have just come from the Finland train; it is the best way."
+
+"But what can you have come here to do, Excellency?"
+
+"The same thing as you."
+
+"Bah!" exclaimed Rouletabille, "do you mean to say that you have
+come here to save Natacha?"
+
+"How - to save her!  I come to capture her."
+
+"To capture her?"
+
+"Monsieur Rouletabille, I have a very fine little dungeon in Saints
+Peter and Paul fortress that is all ready for her."
+
+"You are going to throw Natacha into a dungeon!"
+
+"The Emperor's order, Monsieur Rouletabille.  And if you see me
+here in person it is simply because His Majesty requires that the
+thing be done as respectfully and discreetly as possible."
+
+"Natacha in prison!" cried the reporter, who saw in horror all
+obstacles rising before him at one and the same time.  "For what
+reasons, pray?"
+
+"The reason is simple enough.  Natacha Feodorovna is the last word
+in wickedness and doesn't deserve anybody's pity.  She is the
+accomplice of the revolutionaries and the instigator of all the
+crimes against her father."
+
+"I am sure that you are mistaken, Excellency.  But how have you
+been guided to her?"
+
+"Simply by you."
+
+"By me?"
+
+"Yes, we lost all trace of Natacha.  But, as you had disappeared
+also, I made up my mind that you could only be occupied in searching
+for her, and that by finding you I might have the chance to lay my
+hands on her."
+
+"But I haven't seen any of your men?"
+
+"Why, one of them brought you here."
+
+"Me?"
+
+"Yes, you.  Didn't you climb onto a telega?"
+
+"Ah, the driver."
+
+"Exactly.  I had arranged to have him meet me at the Sestroriesk
+station.  He pointed out the place where you dropped off, and here
+I am."
+
+The reporter bent his head, red with chagrin.  Decidedly the
+sinister idea that he was responsible for the death of an innocent
+man and all the ills which had followed out of it had paralyzed his
+detective talents.  He recognized it now.  What was the use of
+struggling!  If anyone had told him that he would be played with
+that way sometime, he, Rouletabille!  he would have laughed heartily
+enough - then.  But now, well, he wasn't capable of anything further.
+He was his own most cruel enemy.  Not only was Natacha in the hands
+of the revolutionaries through his fault, by his abominable error,
+but worse yet, in the very moment when he wished to save her, he
+foolishly, naively, had conducted the police to the very spot where
+they should have been kept away.  It was the depth of his
+humiliation; Koupriane really pitied the reporter.
+
+"Come, don't blame yourself too much," said he.  "We would have
+found Natacha without you; Gounsovski notified us that she was going
+to embark in the Bay of Lachtka this evening with Priemkof."
+
+"Natacha with Priemkof!" exclaimed Rouletabille.  "Natacha with the
+man who introduced the two living bombs into her father's house!  If
+she is with him, Excellency, it is because she is his prisoner, and
+that alone will be sufficient to prove her innocence.  I thank the
+Heaven that has sent you here."
+
+Koupriane swallowed a glass of vodka, poured another after it, and
+finally deigned to translate his thought:
+
+"Natacha is the friend of these precious men and we will see them
+disembark hand in hand."
+
+"Your men, then, haven't studied the traces of the struggle that
+'these precious men' have had on the banks of the Neva before they
+carried away Natacha?"
+
+"Oh, they haven't been hoodwinked.  As a matter of fact, the struggle
+was quite too visible not to have been done for appearances' sake.
+What a child you are!  Can't you see that Natacha's presence in the
+datcha had become quite too dangerous for that charming young girl
+after the poisoning of her father and step-mother failed and at the
+moment when her comrades were preparing to send General Trebassof a
+pleasant little gift of dynamite?  She arranged to get away and yet
+to appear kidnapped.  It is too simple."
+
+Rouletabille raised his head.
+
+"There is something simpler still to imagine than the culpability
+of Natacha.  It is that Priemkof schemed to pour the poison into
+the flask of vodka, saying to himself that if the poison didn't
+succeed at least it would make the occasion for introducing his
+dynamite into the house in the pockets of the 'doctors' that they
+would go to find."
+
+Koupriane seized Rouletabille's wrist and threw some terrible words
+at him, looking into the depths of his eyes:
+
+"It was not Priemkof who poured the poison, because there was no
+poison in the flask."
+
+Rouletabille, as he heard this extraordinary declaration, rose,
+more startled than he had ever been in the course of this startling
+campaign.
+
+If there was no poison in the flask, the poison must have been
+poured directly into the glasses by a person who was in the kiosk!
+Now, there were only four persons in the kiosk: the two who were
+poisoned and Natacha and himself, Rouletabille.  And that kiosk
+was so perfectly isolated that it was impossible for any other
+persons than the four who were there to pour poison upon the table.
+
+"But it is not possible!" he cried.
+
+"It is so possible that it is so.  Pere Alexis dedared that there
+is no poison in the flask, and I ought to tell you that an analysis
+I had made after his bears him out.  There was no poison, either,
+in the small bottle you took to Pere Alexis and into which you
+yourself had poured the contents of Natacha's glass and yours; no
+trace of poison excepting in two of the four glasses, arsenate of
+soda was found only on the soiled napkins of Trebassof and his wife
+and in the two glasses they drank from."
+
+"Oh, that is horrible," muttered the stupefied reporter; "that is
+horrible, for then the poisoner must be either Natacha or me."
+
+"I have every confidence in you," declared Koupriane with a great
+laugh of satisfaction, striking him on the shoulder.  "And I arrest
+Natacha, and you who love logic ought to be satisfied now."
+
+Rouletabille hadn't a word more to say.  He sat down again and let
+his head fall into his hands, like one sleep has seized.
+
+"Ah, our young girls; you don't know them.  They are terrible,
+terrible!" said Koupriane, lighting a big cigar.  "Much more
+terrible than the boys.  In good families the boys still enjoy
+themselves; but the girls - they read!  It goes to their heads.
+They are ready for anything; they know neither father nor mother.
+Ah, you are a child, you cannot comprehend.  Two lovely eyes, a
+melancholy air, a soft, low voice, and you are captured - you
+believe you have before you simply an inoffensive, good little
+girl.  Well, Rouletabille, here is what I will tell you for your
+instruction.  There was the time of the Tchipoff attack; the
+revolutionaries who were assigned to kill Tchipoff were disguised
+as coachmen and footmen.  Everthing had been carefully prepared
+and it would seem that no one could have discovered the bombs in
+the place they had been stored.  Well, do you know the place where
+those bombs were found?  In the rooms of the governor, of Wladmir's
+daughter!  Exactly, my little friend, just there!  The rooms of
+the governor's daughter, Mademoiselle Alexeieiv. Ah, these young
+girls!  Besides, it was this same Mademoiselle Alexeieiv who, so
+prettily, pierced the brain of an honest Swiss merchant who had the
+misfortune to resemble one of our ministers.  If we had hanged that
+charming young girl earlier, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille, that
+last catastrophe might have been avoided.  A good rope around the
+neck of all these little females - it is the only way, the only
+way!"
+
+A man entered.  Rouletabille recognized the driver of the telega.
+There were some rapid words between the Chief and the agent.  The
+man closed the shutters of the room, but through the interstices
+they would be able to see what went on outside.  Then the agent left;
+Koupriane, as he pushed aside the table that was near the window,
+said to the reporter:
+
+"You had better come to the window; my man has just told me the boat
+is drawing near.  You can watch an interesting sight.  We are sure
+that Natacha is still aboard.  The yacht, after the explosion at
+the datcha, took up two men who put off to it in a canoe, and since
+then it has simply sailed back and forth in the gulf.  We have taken
+our precautions in Finland the same as here and it is here they are
+going to try to disembark.  Keep an eye on them."
+
+Koupriane was at his post of observation.  Evening slowly fell.
+The sky was growing grayish-black, a tint that blended with the
+slate-colored sea.  To those on the bank, the sound of the men
+about to die came softly across the water.  There was a sail far
+out.  Between the strand and the touba where Koupriane watched, was
+a ridge, a window, which, however, did not hide the shore or the bay
+from the prefect of police, because at the height where he was his
+glance passed at an angle above it.  But from the sea this ridge
+entirely hid anyone who lay in ambush behind it.  The reporter
+watched fifty moujiks flat on their stomachs crawling up the ridge,
+behind two of their number whose heads alone topped the ridge.  In
+the line of gaze taken by those two heads was the white sail,
+looming much larger now.  The yacht was heeled in the water and
+glided with real elegance, heading straight on.  Suddenly, just
+when they supposed she was coming straight to shore, the sails fell
+and a canoe was dropped over the side.  Four men got into it; then
+a woman jumped lightly down a little gangway into the canoe.  It
+was Natacha.  Koupriane had no difficulty in recognizing her through
+the gathering darkness.
+
+"Ah, my dear Monsieur Rouletabille," said he, "see your prisoner of
+the Nihilists.  Notice how she is bound.  Her thongs certainly are
+causing her great pain.  These revolutionaries surely are brutes!"
+
+The truth was that Natacha had gone quite readily to the rudder and
+while the others rowed she steered the light boat to the place on
+the beach that had been pointed out to her.  Soon the prow of the
+canoe touched the sands.  There did not seem to be a soul about,
+and that was the conclusion the men in the canoe who stood up
+looking around, seemed to reach.  They jumped out, and then it was
+Natacha's turn.  She accepted the hand held out to her, talking
+pleasantly with the men all the time.  She even turned to press the
+hand of one of them.  The group came up across the beach.  All this
+time the watchers in the little eating-house could see the false
+moujiks, who had wriggled on their stomachs to the very edge of the
+ridge, holding themselves ready to spring.
+
+Behind his shutter, Koupriane could not restrain an exclamation of
+triumph; he gradually identified some of the figures in the group,
+and muttered:
+
+"Eh!  eh!  There is Priemkof himself and the others.  Gounsovski is
+right and he certainly is well-informed; his system is decidedly a
+good one.  What a net-full!"
+
+He hardly breathed as he watched the outcome.  He could discern
+elsewhere, beside the bay, flat on the ground, concealed by the
+slightest elevation of the soil, other false moujiks.  The wood of
+Sestroriesk was watched in the same way.  The group of
+revolutionaries who strolled behind Natacha stopped to confer.  In
+three - maybe two - minutes, they would be surrounded - cut off,
+taken in the trap.  Suddenly a gunshot sounded in the night, and
+the group, with startled speed, turned in their tracks and made
+silently for the sea, while from all directions poured the concealed
+agents and threw themselves into the pursuit, jostling each other
+and crying after the fugitives.  But the cries became cries of rage,
+for the group of revolutionaries gained the beach.  They saw Natacha,
+who was held up by Priemkof himself, reject the aid of the Nihilist,
+who did not wish to abandon her, in order that he might save himself.
+She made him go and seeing that she was going to be taken, stopped
+short and waited for the enemy stoically, with folded arms.
+Meanwhile, her three companions succeeded in throwing themselves
+into the canoe and plied the oars hard while Koupriane's men, in
+the water up to their chests, discharged their revolvers at the
+fugitives.  The men in the canoe, fearing to wound Natacha, made
+no reply to the firing.  The yacht had sails up by the time they
+drew alongside, and made off like a bird toward the mysterious
+fords of Finland, audaciously hoisting the black flag of the
+Revolution.
+
+Meantime, Koupriane's agents, trembling before his anger, gathered
+at the eating-house.  The Prefect of Police let his fury loose on
+them and treated them like the most infamous of animals.  The
+capture of Natacha was little comfort.  He had planned for the whole
+bag, and his men's stupidity took away all his self-control.  If he
+had had a whip at hand he would have found prompt solace for his
+mined hopes.  Natacha, standing in a corner, with her face singularly
+calm, watched this extraordinary scene that was like a menagerie in
+which the tamer himself had become a wild beast.  From another
+corner, Rouletabille kept his eyes fixed on Natacha who ignored him.
+Ah, that girl, sphinx to them all!  Even to him who thought a while
+ago that he could read things invisible to other vulgar men in her
+features, in her eyes!  The impassive face of that girl whose father
+they had tried to assassinate only a few hours before and who had
+just pressed the hand of Priemkof, the assassin!  Once she turned
+her head slightly toward Rouletabille.  The reporter then looked
+towards her with increased eagerness, his eyes burning, as though
+he would say: "Surely, Natacha, you are not the accomplice of your
+father's assassins; surely it was not you who poured the poison!"
+
+But Natacha's glance passed the reporter coldly over.  Ah, that
+mysterious, cold mask, the mouth with its bitter, impudent smile,
+an atrocious smile which seemed to say to the reporter: "If it is
+not I who poured the poison, then it is you!"
+
+It was the visage common enough to the daughters whom Koupriane had
+spoken of a little while before, "the young girls who read" and,
+their reading done, set themselves to accomplish some terrible
+thing, some thing because of which, from time to time, they place
+stiff ropes around the necks of these young females.
+
+Finally, Koupriane's frenzy wore itself out and he made a sign.
+The men filed out in dismal silence.  Two of them remained to
+guard Natacha.  From outside came the sounds of a carriage from
+Sestroriesk ready to convey the girl to the Dungeons of Sts. Peter
+and Paul.  A final gesture from the Prefect of Police and the
+rough bands of the two guards seized the prisoner's frail wrists.
+They hustled her along, thrust her outside, jamming her against
+the doorway, venting thus their anger at the reproaches of their
+chief.  A few seconds later the carriage departed, not to stop
+until the fortress was reached with the trickling tombs under the
+bed of the river where young girls about to die are confined - who
+have read too much, without entirely understanding, as Monsieur
+Kropotkine says.
+
+Koupriane prepared to leave in turn.  Rouletabille stopped him.
+
+"Excellency, I wish you to tell me why you have shown such anger
+to your men just now."
+
+"They are brute beasts," cried the Chief of Police, quite beside
+himself again.  "They have made me miss the biggest catch of my
+life.  They threw themselves on the group two minutes too early.
+Some of them fired a gun that they took for the signal and that
+served to warn the Nihilists.  But I will let them all rot in prison
+until I learn which one fired that shot."
+
+"You needn't look far for that," said Rouletabille.  "I did it."
+
+"You!  Then you must have gone outside the touba?"
+
+"Yes, in order to warn them.  But still I was a little late, since
+you did take Natacha."
+
+Koupriane's eyes blazed.
+
+"You are their accomplice in all this," he hurled at the reporter,
+"and I am going to the Tsar for permission to arrest you."
+
+"Hurry, then, Excellency," replied the reporter coldly, "because
+the Nihilists, who also think they have a little account to settle
+with me, may reach me before you."
+
+And he saluted.
+
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+"I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU"
+
+At the hotel a note from Gounsovski: "Don't forget this time to come
+to-morrow to have luncheon with me.  Warmest regards from Madame
+Gounsovski."  Then a horrible, sleepless night, shaken with echoes
+of explosions and the clamor of the wounded; and the solemn shade
+of Pere Alexis, stretching out toward Rouletabille a phial of poison
+and saying, "Either Natacha or you!"  Then, rising among the shades
+the bloody form of Michael Nikolaievitch the Innocent!
+
+In the morning a note from the Marshal of the Court.
+
+Monsieur le Marechal had no particular good news, evidently, for in
+terms quite without enthusiasm he invited the young man to luncheon
+for that same day, rather early, at midday, as he wished to see him
+once more before he left for France.  "I see," said Rouletabille to
+himself; "Monsieur le Marechal pronounces my expulsion from the
+country "- and he forgot once more the Gounsovski luncheon.  The
+meeting-place named was the great restaurant called the Bear.
+Rouletabille entered it promptly at noon.  He asked the schwitzar if
+the Grand Marshal of the Court had arrived, and was told no one had
+seen him yet.  They conducted him to the huge main hall, where,
+however, there was only one person.  This man, standing before the
+table spread with zakouskis, was stuffing himself.  At the sound of
+Rouletabille's step on the floor this sole famished patron turned
+and lifted his hands to heaven as he recognized the reporter.  The
+latter would have given all the roubles in his pocket to have avoided
+the recognition.  But he was already face to face with the advocate
+so celebrated for his table-feats, the amiable Athanase Georgevitch,
+his head swathed in bandages and dressings from the midst of which
+one could perceive distinctly only the eyes and, above all, the
+mouth.
+
+"How goes it, little friend?"
+
+"How are you?"
+
+"Oh, I!  There is nothing the matter.  In a week we shall have
+forgotten it."
+
+"What a terrible affair," said the reporter, "I certainly believed
+we were all dead men."
+
+"No, no.  It was nothing.  Nitchevo!"
+
+"And poor Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff with his two poor legs broken!"
+
+"Eh!  Nitchevo!  He has plenty of good solid splints that will make
+him two good legs again.  Nitchevo!  Don't you think anything more
+about that!  It is nothing.  You have come here to dine?  A very
+celebrated house this.  Caracho!"  He busied himself to do the
+honors.  One would have said the restaurant belonged to him.  He
+boasted of its architecture and the cuisine "a la Francaise."
+
+"Do you know," he inquired confidently, "a finer restaurant room
+anywhere in the world?"
+
+In fact, it seemed to Rouletabille as he looked up into the high
+glass arch that he was in a railway station decorated for some
+illustrious traveler, for there were flowers and plants everywhere.
+But the visitor whom the ball awaited was the Russian eater, the
+ogre who never failed to come to eat at The Bear.  Pointing out the
+lines of tables shining with their white cloths and bright silver,
+Athanase Georgevitch, with his mouth full, said:
+
+"Ah, my dear little French monsieur, you should see it at
+supper-time, with the women, and the jewels, and the music.  There
+is nothing in France that can give you any idea of it, nothing!  The
+gayety - the champagne - and the jewels, monsieur, worth millions
+and millions of roubles!  Our women wear them all - everything they
+have.  They are decked like sacred shrines!  All the family jewels
+- from the very bottom of the caskets!   it is magnificent,
+thoroughly Russian - Muscovite!  What am I saying?  It is Asiatic.
+Monsieur, in the evening, at a fete, we are Asiatic.  Let me tell
+you something on the quiet.  You notice that this enormous dining
+ail is surrounded by those windowed balconies.  Each of those
+windows belongs to a separate private room.  Well, you see that
+window there?  - yes, there - that is the room of a grand duke - yes,
+he's the one I mean - a very gay grand duke.  Do you know, one
+evening when there was a great crowd here - families, monsieur,
+family parties, high-born families - the window of that particular
+balcony was thrown open, and a woman stark naked, as naked as my
+hand, monsieur, was dropped into the dining-hall and ran across it
+full-speed.  It was a wager, monsieur, a wager of the jolly grand
+duke's, and the demoiselle won it.  But what a scandal!  Ah, don't
+speak of it; that would be very bad form.  But - sufficiently
+Asiatic, eh?  Truly Asiatic.  And - something much more unfortunate
+- you see that table?  It happened the Russian New Year Eve, at
+supper.  All the beauty, the whole capital, was here.  Just at
+midnight the orchestra struck up the Bodje tsara krani* to
+inaugurate the joyful Russian New Year, and everybody stood up,
+according to custom, and listened in silence, as loyal subjects
+should.  Well, at that table, accompanying his family, there was a
+young student, a fine fellow, very correct, and in uniform.  This
+unhappy young student, who had risen like everybody else, to listen
+to the Bodje tsara krani, inadvertently placed his knee on a chair.
+Truly that is not a correct attitude, monsieur, but really it was
+no reason for killing him, was it now?  Certainly not. Well, a brute
+in uniform, an officer quite immaculately gotten-up, drew a revolver
+from his pocket and discharged it at the student point-blank.  You
+can imagine the scandal, for the student was dead!  There were Paris
+journalists there, besides, who had never been there before, you see!
+Monsieur Gaston Leroux was at that very table.  What a scandal!
+They had a regular battle.  They broke carafes over the head of the
+assassin - for he was neither more nor less than an assassin, a
+drinker of blood - an Asiatic.  They picked up the assassin, who was
+bleeding all over, and carried him off to look after him.  As to the
+dead man, he lay stretched out there under a table-cloth, waiting
+for the police - and those at the tables went on with their drinking.
+Isn't that Asiatic enough for you?  Here, a naked woman; there, a
+corpse!   And the jewels - and the champagne!  What do you say to
+that?"
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+  *The Russian national anthem.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"His Excellency the Grand Marshal of the Court is waiting for you,
+Monsieur."
+
+Rouletabille shook hands with Athanase Georgevitch, who returned to
+his zakouskis, and followed the interpreter to the door of one of
+the private rooms.  The high dignitary was there.  With a charm in
+his politeness of which the high-born Russian possesses the secret
+over almost everybody else in the world, the Marshal intimated to
+Rouletabille that he had incurred imperial displeasure.
+
+"You have been denounced by Koupriane, who holds you responsible
+for the checks he has suffered in this affair."
+
+"Monsieur Koupriane is right," replied Rouletabille, "and His
+Majesty should believe him, since it is the truth.  But don't fear
+anything from me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, for I shall not
+inconvenience Monsieur Koupriane any further, nor anybody else.  I
+shall disappear."
+
+"I believe Koupriane is already directed to vise your passport."
+
+"He is very good, and he does himself much harm."
+
+"All that is a little your fault, Monsieur Rouletabille.  We
+believed we could consider you as a friend, and you have never
+failed, it appears, on each occasion to give your help to our
+enemies.
+
+"Who says that?"
+
+"Koupriane.  Oh, it is necessary to be one with us.  And you are
+not one with us.  And if you are not for us you are against us.
+You understand that, I think.  That is the way it has to be.  The
+Terrorists have returned to the methods of the Nihilists, who
+succeeded altogether too well against Alexander II.  When I tell
+you that they succeeded in placing their messages even in the
+imperial palace..."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, vaguely, as though he were already
+far removed from the contingencies of this world.  "I know that
+Czar Alexander II sometimes found under his napkin a letter
+announcing his condemnation to death."
+
+"Monsieur, at the Chateau yesterday morning something happened that
+is perhaps more alarming than the letter found by Alexander II
+under his napkin."
+
+"What can it be?  Have bombs been discovered?"
+
+"No.  It is a bizarre occurrence and almost unbelievable.  The
+eider downs, all the eider down coverings belonging to the imperial
+family disappeared yesterday morning."*
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+  * Historically authentic.
+___________________________________________________________________
+
+"Surely not!"
+
+"It is just as I say.  And it was impossible to learn what had
+become of them - until yesterday evening, when they were found again
+in their proper places in the chambers.  That is the new mystery!"
+
+"Certainly.  But how were they taken out?"
+
+"Shall we ever know?  All we found was two feathers, this morning,
+in the boudoir of the Empress, which leads us to think that the
+eider downs were taken out that way.  I am taking the two feathers
+to Koupriane."
+
+"Let me see them," asked the reporter.
+
+Rouletabille looked them over and handed them back.
+
+"And what do you think the whole affair means?"
+
+"We are inclined to regard it as a threat by the revolutionaries.
+If they can carry away the eider downs, it would be quite as easy
+for them to carry away..."
+
+"The Imperial family?  No, I don't think it is that."
+
+"What do you mean, then?"
+
+"I?  Nothing any more.  Not only do I not think any more, but I
+don't wish to.  Tell me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, it is useless,
+I suppose, to try to see His Majesty before I go?"
+
+"What good would it do, monsieur?  We know everything now.  This
+Natacha that you defended against Koupriane is proved the culprit.
+The last affair does not leave that in any reasonable doubt.  And
+she is taken care of from this time on.  His Majesty wishes never
+to hear Natacba spoken of again under any pretext."
+
+"And what are you going to do with that young girl?"
+
+"The Tsar has decided that there shall not be any trial and that
+the daughter of General Trebassof shall be sent, by administrative
+order, to Siberia.  The Tsar, monsieur, is very good, for he might
+have had her hanged.  She deserved it."
+
+"Yes, yes, the Tsar is very good."
+
+"You are very absorbed, Monsieur Rouletabille, and you are not
+eating."
+
+"I have no appetite, Monsieur le Marechal.  Tell me,- the Emperor
+must be rather bored at Tsarskoie-Coelo?"
+
+"Oh, he has plenty of work.  He rises at seven o'clock and has a
+light English luncheon - tea and toast.  At eight o'clock he starts
+and works till ten.  From ten to eleven he promenades."
+
+"In the jail-yard?" asked Rouletabille innocently.
+
+"What's that you say?  "Ah, you are an enfant terrible!  Certainly
+we do well to send you away.  Until eleven he promenades in a
+pathway of the park.  From eleven to one he holds audience; luncheon
+at one; then he spends the time until half-past two with his family."
+
+"What does he eat?"
+
+"Soup.  His Majesty is wonderfully fond of soup.  He takes it at
+every meal.  After luncheon he smokes, but never a cigar - always
+cigarettes, gifts of the Sultan; and he only drinks one liqueur,
+Maraschino.  At half-past two he goes out again for a little air
+- always in his park; then he sets himself to work until eight
+o'clock.  It is simply frightful work, with heaps of useless
+papers and numberless signatures.  No secretary can spare him that
+ungrateful bureaucratic duty.  He must sign, sign, sign, and read,
+read, read the reports.  And it is work without any beginning or
+end; as soon as some reports go, others arrive.  At eight o'clock,
+dinner, and then more signatures, working right up to eleven o'clock.
+At eleven o'clock he goes to bed."
+
+"And he sleeps to the rhythmical tramp of the guards on patrol,"
+added Rouletabille, bluntly.
+
+"O young man, young man!"
+
+"Pardon me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal," said the reporter, rising;
+"I am, indeed, a disturbing spirit and I know that I have nothing
+more to do in this country.  You will not see me any more, Monsieur
+le Grand Marechal; but before leaving I ought to tell you how much
+I have been touched by the hospitality of your great nation.  That
+hospitality is sometimes a little dangerous, but it is always
+magnificent.  No other nation in the world knows like the Russians
+how to receive a man, Your Excellency.  I speak as I feel; and that
+isn't affected by my manner of quitting you, for you know also how
+to put a man to the door.  Adieu, then; without any rancor.  My
+most respectful homage to His Majesty.  Ah, just one word more!
+You will recall that Natacha Feodorovna was engaged to poor Boris
+Mourazoff, still another young man who has disappeared and who,
+before disappearing, charged me to deliver to General Trebassof's
+daughter this last token - these two little ikons.  I entrust you
+with this mission, Monsieur le Grand Marechal.  Your servant,
+Excellency."
+
+Rouletabille re-descended the great Kaniouche.  "Now," said he to
+himself, "it is my turn to buy farewell presents."  And he made his
+way slowly across la Place des Grandes-Ecuries and the bridge of
+the Katharine canal.  He entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok and pushed
+open Pere Alexis's door, under the arch, at the back of the obscure
+court.
+
+"Health and prosperity, Alexis Hutch!"
+
+"Ah, you again, little man!  Well?  Koupriane has let you know the
+result of my analyses?"
+
+"Yes, yes.  Tell me, Alexis Hutch, you are sure you are not
+mistaken?  You don't think you might be mistaken?  Think carefully
+before you answer.  It is a question of life or death."
+
+"For whom?"
+
+"For me."
+
+"For you, good little friend!  You want to make your old Pere
+lexis laugh - or weep!"
+
+"Answer me."
+
+"No, I couldn't be mistaken.  The thing is as certain as that we
+two are here - arsenate of soda in the stains on the two napkins
+and traces of arsenate of soda in two of the four glasses; none
+in the carafe, none in the little bottle, none in the two glasses.
+I say it before you and before God."
+
+"So it is really true.  Thank you, Alexis Hutch.  Koupriane has not
+tried to deceive me.  There has been nothing of that sort.  Well,
+do you know, Alexis Hutch, who has poured the poison?  It is she
+or I.  And as it is not I, it is she.  And since it is she, well,
+I am going to die!"
+
+"You love her, then?" inquired Pere Alexis.
+
+"No," replied Rouletabille, with a self-mocking smile.  "No, I don't
+love her.  But if it is she who poured the poison, then it was not
+Michael Nikolaievitch, and it is I who had Michael Nikolaievitch
+killed.  You can see now that therefore I must die.  Show me your
+finest images.
+
+"Ah, my little one, if you will permit your old Alexis to make you
+a gift, I would offer you these two poor ikons that are certainly
+from the convent of Troitza at its best period.  See how beautiful
+they are, and old.  Have you ever seen so beautiful a Mother of
+God?  And this St. Luke, would you believe that the hand had been
+mended, eh?   Two little masterpieces, little friend!  If the old
+masters of Salonika returned to the world they would be satisfied
+with their pupils at Troitza.  But you mustn't kill yourself at
+your age!"
+
+"Come, bat ouclzka (little father), I accept your gift, and, if I
+meet the old Salonican masters on the road I am going to travel,
+I shan't fail to tell them there is no person here below who
+appreciates them like a certain pere of Aptiekarski-Pereoulok,
+Alexis Hutch."
+
+So saying Rouletabille wrapped up the two little ikons and put them
+in his pocket.  The Saint Luke would be sure to appeal to his
+friend Sainclair.  As to the Mother of God, that would be his dying
+gift to the Dame en noir.
+
+"Ah, you are sad, little son; and your voice, as it sounds now,
+hurts me."
+
+Rouletabille turned his head at the sound of two moujiks who entered,
+carrying a long basket.
+
+"What do you want?" demanded Pere Alexis in Russian, "and what is
+that you are bringing in?  Do you intend to fill that huge basket
+with my goods?  In that case you are very welcome and I am your
+humble servant."
+
+But the two chuckled.
+
+"Yes, yes, we have come to rid your shop of a wretched piece of
+goods that litters it."
+
+"What is this you say?" inquired the old man, anxiously, and
+drawing near Rouletabille.  "Little friend, watch these men; I
+don't recognize their faces and I can't understand why they have
+come here."
+
+Rouletabille looked at the new-comers, who drew near the counter,
+after depositing their long basket close to the door.  There was
+a sarcastic and malicious mocking way about them that struck him
+from the first.  But while they kept up their jabbering with Pere
+Alexis he filled his pipe and proceeded to light it.  Just then the
+door was pushed open again and three men entered, simply dressed,
+like respectable small merchants.  They also acted curiously and
+looked all around the shop.  Pere Alexis grew more and more alarmed
+and the others pulled rudely at his beard.
+
+"I believe these men here have come to rob me," he cried in French.
+"What do you say, my son?  -  Shall I call the police?"
+
+"Hold on," replied Rouletabille impassively.  "They are all armed;
+they have revolvers in their pockets."
+
+Pere Alexis's teeth commenced to chatter.  As he tried to get near
+the door he was roughly pushed back and a final personage entered,
+apparently a gentleman, and dressed as such, save that he wore a
+visored leather cap.
+
+"Ah," said he at once in French, "why, it is the young French
+journalist of the Grand-Morskaia Hotel.  Salutations and your good
+health!  I see with pleasure that you also appreciate the counsels
+of our dear Pere Alexis."
+
+"Don't listen to him, little friend; I don't know him," cried
+Alexis Hutch.
+
+But the gentlenman of the Neva went on:
+
+"He is a man close to the first principles of science, and therefore
+not far from divine; he is a holy man, whom it is good to consult at
+moments when the future appears difficult.  He knows how to read as
+no one else can - Father John of Cronstadt excepted, to be strictly
+accurate - on the sheets of bull-hide where the dark angels have
+traced mysterious signs of destiny."
+
+Here the gentleman picked up an old pair of boots, which he threw
+on the counter in the midst of the ikons.
+
+"Pere Alexis, perhaps these are not bull-hide, but good enough
+cow-hide.  Don't you want to read on this cow-hide the future of
+this young man?"
+
+But here Rouletabille advanced to the gentleman, and blew an
+enormous cloud of smoke full in his face.
+
+"It is useless, monsieur," said Rouletabille, "to waste your time
+and your breath.   I have been waiting for you."
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
+
+Only, Rouletabille refused to be put into the basket.  He would not
+let them disarm him until they promised to call a carriage.  The
+Vehicle rolled into the court, and while Pere Alexis was kept back
+in his shop at the point of a revolver, Rouletabille quietly got
+in, smoking his pipe.  The man who appeared to be the chief of the
+band (the gentleman of the Neva) got in too and sat down beside him.
+The carriage windows were shuttered, preventing all communication
+with the outside, and only a tiny lantern lighted the interior.
+They started.  The carriage was driven by two men in brown coats
+trimmed with false astrakhan.  The dvornicks saluted, believing it
+a police affair.  The concierge made the sign of the cross.
+
+The journey lasted several hours without other incidents than those
+brought about by the tremendous jolts, which threw the two
+passengers inside one on top of the other.  This might have made
+an opening for conversation; and the "gentleman of the Neva" tried
+it; but in vain.  Rouletabille would not respond.  At one moment,
+indeed, the gentleman, who was growing bored, became so pressing
+that the reporter finally said in the curt tone he always used when
+he was irritated:
+
+"I pray you, monsieur, let me smoke my pipe in peace."
+
+Upon which the gentleman prudently occupied himself in lowering one
+of the windows, for it grew stifling.
+
+Finally, after much jolting, there was a stop while the horses were
+changed and the gentleman asked Rouletabille to let himself be
+blindfolded.  "The moment has come; they are going to hang me
+without any form of trial," thought the reporter, and when, blinded
+with the bandage, he felt himself lifted under the arms, there was
+revolt of his whole being, that being which, now that it was on the
+point of dying, did not wish to cease.  Rouletabille would have
+believed himself stronger, more courageous, more stoical at least.
+But blind instinct swept all of this away, that instinct of
+conservation which had no concern with the minor bravadoes of the
+reporter, no concern with the fine heroic manner, of the determined
+pose to die finely, because the instinct of conservation, which is,
+as its rigid name indicates, essentially materialistic, demands
+only, thinks of nothing but, to live.  And it was that instinct
+which made Rouletabille's last pipe die out unpuffed.
+
+The young man was furious with himself, and he grew pale with the
+fear that he might not succeed in mastering this emotion, he took
+fierce hold of himself and his members, which had stiffened at
+the contact of seizure by rough hands, relaxed, and he allowed
+himself to be led.  Truly, he was disgusted with his faintness and
+weakness.  He had seen men die who knew they were going to die.
+His task as reporter had led him more than once to the foot of the
+guillotine.  And the wretches he had seen there had died bravely.
+Extraordinarily enough, the most criminal had ordinarily met death
+most bravely.  Of course, they had had leisure to prepare themselves,
+thinking a long time in advance of that supreme moment.  But they
+affronted death, came to it almost negligently, found strength even
+to say banal or taunting things to those around them.  He recalled
+above all a boy of eighteen years old who had cowardly murdered an
+old woman and two children in a back-country farm, and had walked
+to his death without a tremor, talking reassuringly to the priest
+and the police official, who walked almost sick with horror on
+either side of him.  Could he, then, not be as brave as that child?
+
+They made him mount some steps and he felt that he had entered the
+stuffy atmosphere of a closed room.  Then someone removed the
+bandage.  He was in a room of sinister aspect and in the midst of
+a rather large company.
+
+Within these naked, neglected walls there were about thirty young
+men, some of them apparently quite as young as Rouletabille, with
+candid blue eyes and pale complexions.  The others, older men, were
+of the physical type of Christs, not the animated Christs of
+Occidental painters, but those that are seen on the panels of the
+Byzantine school or fastened on the ikons, sculptures of silver or
+gold.  Their long hair, deeply parted in the middle, fell upon
+their shoulders in curl-tipped golden masses.  Some leant against
+the wall, erect, and motionless.  Others were seated on the floor,
+their legs crossed.  Most of them were in winter coats, bought in
+the bazaars.  But there were also men from the country, with their
+skins of beasts, their sayons, their touloupes. One of them had his
+legs laced about with cords and was shod with twined willow twigs.
+The contrast afforded by various ones of these grave and attentive
+figures showed that representatives from the entire revolutionary
+party were present.  At the back of the room, behind a table, three
+young men were seated, and the oldest of them was not more than
+twenty-five and had the benign beauty of Jesus on feast-days,
+canopied by consecrated palms.
+
+In the center of the room a small table stood, quite bare and
+without any apparent purpose.
+
+On the right was another table with paper, pens and ink-stands.  It
+was there that Rouletabille was conducted and asked to be seated.
+Then he saw that another man was at his side, who was required to
+keep standing.  His face was pale and desperate, very drawn.  His
+eyes burned somberly, in spite of the panic that deformed his
+features Rouletabille recognized one of the unintroduced friends
+whom Gounsovski had brought with him to the supper at Krestowsky.
+Evidently since then the always-threatening misfortune had fallen
+upon him.  They were proceeding with his trial.  The one who seemed
+to preside over these strange sessions pronounced a name:
+
+"Annouchka!"
+
+A door opened, and Annouchka appeared.
+
+Rouletabille hardly recognized her, she was so strangely dressed,
+like the Russian poor, with her under-jacket of red-flannel and
+the handkerchief which, knotted under her chin, covered all her
+beautiful hair.
+
+She immediately testified in Russian against the man, who protested
+until they compelled him to be silent.  She drew from her pocket
+papers which were read aloud, and which appeared to crush the
+accused.  He fell back onto his seat.  He shivered.  He hid his
+head in his hands, and Rouletabille saw the hands tremble.  The
+man kept that position while the other witnesses were heard, their
+testimony arousing murmurs of indignation that were quickly checked.
+Annouchka had gone to take her place with the others against the
+wall, in the shadows which more and more invaded the room, at this
+ending of a lugubrious day.  Two windows reaching to the floor let
+a wan light creep with difficulty through their dirty panes, making
+a vague twilight in the room.  Soon nothing could be seen of the
+motionless figures against the wall, much as the faces fade in the
+frescoes from which the centuries have effaced the colors in the
+depths of orthodox convents.
+
+Now someone from the depths of the shadow and the appalling silence
+read something; the verdict, doubtless.
+
+The voice ceased.
+
+Then some of the figures detached themselves from the wall and
+advanced.
+
+The man who crouched near Rouletabille rose in a savage bound and
+cried out rapidly, wild words, supplicating words, menacing words.
+
+And then - nothing more but strangling gasps.  The figures that had
+moved out from the wall had clutched his throat.
+
+The reporter said, "It is cowardly."
+
+Annouchka's voice, low, from the depths of shadow, replied, "It is
+just."
+
+But Rouletabille was satisfied with having said that, for he had
+proved to himself that he could still speak.  His emotion had been
+such, since they had pushed him into the center of this sinister
+and expeditious revolutionary assembly of justice, that he thought
+of nothing but the terror of not being able to speak to them, to
+say something to them, no matter what, which would prove to them
+that he had no fear.  Well, that was over.  He had not failed to
+say, "That is cowardly."
+
+And he crossed his arms.  But he soon bad to turn away his head in
+order not to see the use the table was put to that stood in the
+center of the room, where it had seemed to serve no purpose.
+
+They had lifted the man, still struggling, up onto the little table.
+They placed a rope about his neck.  Then one of the "judges," one
+of the blond young men, who seemed no older than Rouletabille,
+climbed on the table and slipped the other end of the rope through
+a great ring-bolt that projected from a beam of the ceiling.  During
+this time the man struggled futilely, and his death-rattle rose at
+last though the continued noise of his resistance and its overcoming.
+But his last breath came with so violent a shake of the body that
+the whole death-apparatus, rope and ring-bolt, separated from the
+ceiling, and rolled to the ground with the dead man.
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry of horror.  "You are assassins!" he
+cried.  But was the man surely dead?  It was this that the pale
+figures with the yellow hair set themselves to make sure of.  He
+was.  Then they brought two sacks and the dead man was slipped
+into one of them.
+
+Rouletabille said to them:
+
+"You are braver when you kill by an explosion, you know."
+
+He regretted bitterly that he had not died the night before in the
+explosion.  He did not feel very brave.  He talked to them bravely
+enough, but he trembled as his time approached.  That death
+horrified him.  He tried to keep from looking at the other sack.  He
+took the two ikons, of Saint Luke and of the Virgin, from his pocket
+and prayed to them.  He thought of the Lady in Black and wept.
+
+A voice in the shadows said:
+
+"He is crying, the poor little fellow."
+
+It was Annouchka's voice.
+
+Rouletabille dried his tears and said:
+
+"Messieurs, one of you must have a mother."
+
+But all the voices cried:
+
+"No, no, we have mothers no more!"
+
+"They have killed them," cried some.  "They have sent them to
+Siberia," cried others.
+
+"Well, I have a mother still," said the poor lad.  "I will not have
+the opportunity to embrace her.  It is a mother that I lost the day
+of my birth and that I have found again, but - I suppose it is to
+be said - on the day of my death.  I shall not see her again.  I
+have a friend; I shall not see him again either.  I have two little
+ikons here for them, and I am going to write a letter to each of
+them, if you will permit it.  Swear to me that you will see these
+reach them."
+
+"I swear it," said, in French, the voice of Annouchka.
+
+"Thanks, madame, you are kind.  And now, messieurs, that is all I
+ask of you.  I know I am here to reply to very grave accusations.
+Permit me to say to you at once that I admit them all to be well
+founded.  Consequently, there need be no discussion between us.
+I have deserved death and I accept it.  So permit me not to concern
+myself with what will be going on here.  I ask of you simply, as a
+last favor, not to hasten your preparations too much, so that I may
+be able to finish my letters>"
+
+Upon which, satisfied with himself this time, he sat down again
+and commenced to write rapidly.  They left him in peace, as he
+desired.  He did not raise his head once, even at the moment when
+a murmur louder than usual showed that the hearers regarded
+Rouletabille's crimes with especial detestation.  He had the
+happiness of having entirely completed his correspond once when
+they asked him to rise to hear judgment pronounced upon him.  The
+supreme communion that he had just had with his friend Sainclair
+and with the dear Lady in Black restored all his spirit to him.  He
+listened respectfully to the sentence which condemned him to death,
+though he was busy sliding his tongue along the gummed edge of his
+envelope.
+
+These were the counts on which he was to be hanged:
+
+1.  Because he had come to Russia and mixed in affairs that did not
+    concern his nationality, and had done this in spite of warning
+    to remain in France.
+
+2.  Because he had not kept the promises of neutrality he freely
+    made to a representative of the Central Revolutionary Committee.
+
+3.  For trying to penetrate the mystery of the Trebassof datcha.
+
+4.  For having Comrade Matiew whipped and imprisoned by Koupriane.
+
+5.  For having denounced to Koupriane the identity of the two
+    "doctors" who had been assigned to kill General Trebassof.
+
+6.  For having caused the arrest of Natacha Feodorovna.
+
+It was a list longer than was needed for his doom.  Rouletabille
+kissed his ikons and handed them to Annouchka along with the letters.
+Then he declared, with his lips trembling slightly, and a cold sweat
+on his forehead, that he was ready to submit to his fate.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE LAST CRAVAT
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him: "If you have nothing further
+to say, we will go into the courtyard."
+
+Rouletabille understood at last that hanging him in the room where
+judgment had been pronounced was rendered impossible by the violence
+of the prisoner just executed.  Not only the rope and the ring-bolt
+had been torn away, but part of the beam had splintered.
+
+"There is nothing more," replied Rouletabille.
+
+He was mistaken.  Something occurred to him, an idea flashed so
+suddenly that he became white as his shirt, and had to lean on the
+arm of the gentleman of the Neva in order to accompany him.
+
+The door was open.  All the men who had voted his death filed out
+in gloomy silence.  The gentleman of the Neva, who seemed charged
+with the last offices for the prisoner, pushed him gently out into
+the court.
+
+It was vast, and surrounded by a high board wall; some small
+buildings, with closed doors, stood to right and left.  A high
+chimney, partially demolished, rose from one corner.  Rouletabille
+decided the whole place was part of some old abandoned mill.  Above
+his head the sky was pale as a winding sheet.  A thunderous,
+intermittent, rhythmical noise appraised him that he could not be
+far from the sea.
+
+He had plenty of time to note all these things, for they had stopped
+the march to execution a moment and had made him sit down in the
+open courtyard on an old box.  A few steps away from him under the
+shed where he certainly was going to be hanged, a man got upon a
+stool (the stool that would serve Rouletabille a few moments later)
+with his arm raised, and drove with a few blows of a mallet a great
+ring-bolt into a beam above his head.
+
+The reporter's eyes, which had not lost their habit of taking
+everything in, rested again on a coarse canvas sack that lay on the
+ground.  The young man felt a slight tremor, for he saw quickly
+that the sack swathed a human form.  He turned his head away, but
+only to confront another empty sack that was intended for him.
+Then he closed his eyes.  The sound of music came from somewhere
+outside, notes of the balalaika.  He said to himself, "Well, we
+certainly are in Finland"; for he knew that, if the guzla is
+Russian the balalaika certainly is Finnish.  It is a kind of
+accordeon that the peasants pick plaintively in the doorways of
+their toubas.  He had seen and heard them the afternoon that he
+went to Pergalovo, and also a little further away, on the Viborg
+line.  He pictured to himself the ruined structure where he now
+found himself shut in with the revolutionary tribunal, as it must
+appear from the outside to passers-by; unsinister, like many others
+near it, sheltering under its decaying roof a few homes of humble
+workers, resting now as they played the balalaika at their
+thresholds, with the day's labor over.
+
+And suddenly from the ineffable peace of his last evening, while
+the balalaika mourned and the man overhead tested the solidity of
+his ring-bolt, a voice outside, the grave, deep voice of Annouchka,
+sang for the little Frenchman:
+
+    "For whom weave we now the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+     When my hand falls lingering down
+     Who then will bring your crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?
+
+     O that someone among you would hear,
+     And come, and my lonely hand
+     Would press, and shed the friendly tear -
+     For alone at the end I stand.
+
+     Who now will bring the crown
+     Of lilac, rose and thyme?"
+
+Rouletabille listened to the voice dying away with the last sob of
+the balalaika.  "It is too sad," he said, rising.  "Let us go,"
+and he wavered a little.
+
+They came to search him.  All was ready above.  They pushed him
+gently towards the shed.  When he was under the ring-bolt, near
+the stool, they made him turn round and they read him something
+in Russian, doubtless less for him than for those there who did
+not understand French.  Rouletabille had hard work to hold himself
+erect.
+
+The gentleman of the Neva said to him further:
+
+"Monsieur, we now read you the final formula.  It asks you to say
+whether, before you die, you have anything you wish to add to what
+we know concerning the sentence which has been passed upon you."
+
+Rouletabille thought that his saliva, which at that moment he had
+the greatest difficulty in swallowing, would not permit him to utter
+a word.  But disdain of such a weakness, when he recalled the
+coolness of so many illustrious condemned people in their last
+moments, brought him the last strength needed to maintain his
+reputation.
+
+"Why," said he, "this sentence is not wrongly drawn up.  I blame
+it only for being too short.  Why has there been no mention of the
+crime I committed in contriving the tragic death of poor Michael
+Korsakoff?"
+
+"Michael Korsakoff was a wretch," pronounced the vindictive voice
+of the young man who had presided at the trial and who, at this
+upreme moment, happened to be face to face with Rouletabille.
+"Koupriane's police, by killing that man, ridded us of a traitor."
+
+Rouletabille uttered a cry, a cry of joy, and while he had some
+reason for believing that at the point he had reached now of his
+too-short career only misfortune could befall him, yet here
+Providence, in his infinite grace, sent him before he died this
+ineffable consolation: the certainty that he had not been mistaken.
+
+"Pardon, pardon," he murmured, in an excess of joy which stifled
+him almost as much as the wretched rope would shortly do that they
+were getting ready behind him.  "Pardon.  One second yet, one little
+second.  Then, messieurs, then, we are agreed in that, are we?
+This Michael, Michael Nikolaievitch was the the last of traitors."
+
+"The first," said the heavy voice.
+
+"It is the same thing, my dear monsieur.  A traitor, a wretched
+traitor," continued Rouletabille.
+
+"A poisoner," replied the voice.
+
+"A vulgar poisoner!   Is that not so?  But, tell me how - a vulgar
+poisoner who, under cover of Nihilism, worked for his own petty
+ends, worked for himself and betrayed you all!"
+
+Now Rouletabille's voice rose like a fanfare.  Someone said:
+
+"He did not deceive us long; our enemies themselves undertook his
+punishment."
+
+"It was I," cried Rouletabille, radiant again.  "It was I who wound
+up that career.  I tell you that was managed right.  It was I who
+rid you of him.  Ah, I knew well enough, messieurs, in the bottom
+of my heart I knew that I could not be mistaken.  Two and two make
+four always, don't they?  And Rouletabille is always Rouletabille.
+Messieurs, it is all right, after all."
+
+But it was probable that it was also all wrong, for the gentleman
+of the Neva came up to him hat in hand and said:
+
+"Monsieur, you know now why the witnesses at your trial did not
+raise a fact against you that, on the contrary, was entirely in
+your favor.  Now it only remains for us to execute the sentence
+which is entirely justified on other grounds."
+
+"Ah, but - wait a little.  What the devil!   Now that I am sure I
+have not been mistaken and that I have been myself, Rouletabille,
+all the time I cling to life a little - oh, very much!"
+
+A hostile murmur showed the condemned man that the patience of his
+judges was getting near its limit.
+
+"Monsieur," interposed the president, "we know that you do not
+belong to the orthodox religion; nevertheless, we will bring a
+priest if you wish it."
+
+"Yes, yes, that is it, go for the priest," cried Rouletabille.
+
+And he said to himself, "It is so much time gained."
+
+One of the revolutionaries started over to a little cabin that had
+been transformed into a chapel, while the rest of them looked at
+the reporter with a good deal less sympathy than they had been
+showing.  If his bravado had impressed them agreeably in the trial
+room, they were beginning to be rather disgusted by his cries, his
+protestations and all the maneuvers by which he so apparently was
+trying to hold off the hour of his death.
+
+But all at once Rouletabille jumped up onto the fatal stool.  They
+believed he had decided finally to make an end of the comedy and
+die with dignity; but he had mounted there only to give them a
+discourse.
+
+"Messieurs, understand me now.  If it is true that you are not
+suppressing me in order to avenge Michael Nikolaievitch, then why
+do you hang me?  Why do you inflict this odious punishment on me?
+Because you accuse me of causing Natacha Feodorovna's arrest?  Truly
+I have been awkward.  Of that, and that alone, I accuse myself."
+
+"It was you, with your revolver, who gave the signal to Koupriane's
+agents!   You have done the dirty work for the police."
+
+Rouletabille tried vainly to protest, to explain, to say that his
+revolver shot, on the contrary, had saved the revolutionaries.  But
+no one cared to listen and no one believed him.
+
+"Here is the priest, monsieur," said the gentleman of the Neva.
+
+"One second!   These are my last words, and I swear to you that
+after this I will pass the rope about my neck myself!   But listen
+to me!   Listen to me closely!  Natacha Feodorovna was the most
+precious recruit you had, was she not?"
+
+"A veritable treasure," declared the president, his voice more and
+more impatient.
+
+"It was a terrible blow, then," continued the reporter, "a terrible
+blow for you, this arrest?"
+
+"Terrible," some of them ejaculated.
+
+"Do not interrupt me!   Very well, then, I am going to say this to
+you: 'If I ward off this blow - if, after having been the
+unintentional cause of Natacha's arrest, I have the daughter of
+General Trebassof set at liberty, and that within twenty-four
+hours, - what do you say?  Would you still hang me?'"
+
+The president, he who had the Christ-like countenance, said:
+
+"Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna has fallen the victim of terrible
+machinations whose mystery we so far have not been able to penetrate.
+She is accused of trying to poison her father and her step-mother,
+and under such conditions that it seems impossible for human reason
+to demonstrate the contrary.  Natacha Feodorovna herself, crushed
+by the tragic occurrence, was not able to answer her accusers at
+all, and her silence has been taken for a confession of guilt.
+Messieurs, Natacha Feodorovna will be started for Siberia to-morrow.
+We can do nothing for her.  Natacha Feodorovna is lost to us."
+
+Then, with a gesture to those who surrounded Rouletabille:
+
+"Do your duty, messieurs."
+
+"Pardon, pardon.  But if I do prove the innocence of Natacha?
+Just wait, messieurs.  There is only I who can prove that innocence!
+You lose Natacha by killing me!"
+
+"If you had been able to prove that innocence, monsicur, the thing
+would already be done.  You would not have waited."
+
+"Pardon, pardon.  It is only at this moment that I have become able
+to do it."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"It is because I was sick, you see - very seriously sick.  That
+affair of Michael Nikolaievitch and the poison that still continued
+after he was dead simply robbed me of all my powers.  Now that I
+am sure I have not been the means of killing an innocent man - I am
+Rouletabille again!  It is not possible that I shall not find the
+way, that I shall not see through this mystery."
+
+The terrible voice of the Christ-like figure said monotonously:
+
+"Do your duty, messieurs."
+
+"Pardon, pardon.  This is of great importance to you - and the
+proof is that you have not yet hanged me.  You were not so
+procrastinating with my predecessor, were you?  You have listened
+to me because you have hoped!  Very well, let me think, let me
+consider.  Oh, the devil!  I was there myself at the fatal luncheon,
+and I know better than anyone else all that happened there.  Five
+minutes!  I demand five minutes of you; it is not much.  Five
+little minutes!"
+
+These last words of the condemned man seemed to singularly influence
+the revolutionaries.  They looked at one another in silence.
+
+Then the president took out his watch and said:
+
+"Five minutes.  We grant them to you."
+
+"Put your watch here.  Here on this nail.  It is five minutes to
+seven, eh?  You will give me until the hour?"
+
+"Yes, until the hour.  The watch itself will strike when the hour
+has come."
+
+"Ah, it strikes!   Like the general's watch, then.  Very well, here
+we are."
+
+Then there was the curious spectacle of Rouletabille standing on
+the hangman's stool, the fatal rope hanging above his head, his
+legs crossed, his elbow on his knees in that eternal attitude which
+Art has always given to human thought, his fists under his jaws,
+his eyes fixed - all around him, all those young men intent on his
+silence, not moving a muscle, turned into statues themselves that
+they might not disturb the statue which thought and thought.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+A SINGULAR EXPERIENCE
+
+The five minutes ticked away and the watch commenced to strike the
+hour's seven strokes.  Did it sound the death of Rouletabille?
+Perhaps not!  For at the first silver tinkle they saw Rouletabille
+shake himself, and raise his head, with his face alight and his
+eyes shining.  They saw him stand up, spread out his arms and cry:
+
+"I have found it!"
+
+Such joy shone in his countenance that there seemed to be an aureole
+around him, and none of those there doubted that he had the solution
+of the impossible problem.
+
+"I have found it!  I have found it!"
+
+They gathered around him.  He waved them away as in a waking dream.
+
+"Give me room.  I have found it, if my experiment works out.  One,
+two, three, four, five..."
+
+What was he doing?  He counted his steps now, in long paces, as in
+dueling preliminaries.  And the others, all of them, followed him
+in silence, puzzled, but without protest, as if they, too, were
+caught in the same strange day-dream.  Steadily counting his steps
+he crossed thus the court, which was vast.  "Forty, forty-one,
+forty-two," he cried excitedly.  "This is certainly strange, and
+very promising."
+
+The others, although they did not understand, reframed from
+questioning him, for they saw there was nothing to do but let him
+go ahead without interruption, just as care is taken not to wake
+a somnambulist abruptly.  They had no mistrust of his motives, for
+the idea was simply untenable that Rouletabille was fool enough to
+hope to save himself from them by an imbecile subterfuge.  No,
+they yielded to the impression his inspired countenance gave them,
+and several were so affected that they unconsciously repeated his
+gestures.  Thus Rouletabille reached the edge of the court where
+judgment had been pronounced against him.  There he had to mount
+a rickety flight of stairs, whose steps he counted.  He reached
+a corridor, but moving away from the side where the door was
+opening to the exterior he turned toward a staircase leading to the
+upper floor, and still counted the steps as be climbed them.  Some
+of the company followed him, others hurried ahead of him.  But he
+did not seem aware of either the one or the other, as he walked
+along living only in his thoughts.  He reached the landing-place,
+hesitated, pushed open a door, and found himself in a room furnished
+with a table, two chairs, a mattress and a huge cupboard.  He went
+to the cupboard, turned the key and opened it.  The cupboard was
+empty.  He closed it again and put the key in his pocket.  Then he
+went out onto the landing-place again.  There he asked for the key
+of the chamber-door he had just left.  They gave it to him and he
+locked that door and put that key also in his pocket.  Now he
+returned into the court.  He asked for a chair.  It was brought
+him.  Immediately he placed his head in his hands, thinking hard,
+took the chair and carried it over a little behind the shed.  The
+Nihilists watched everything he did and they did not smile, because
+men do not smile when death waits at the end of things, however
+foolish.
+
+Finally, Rouletabille spoke:
+
+"Messieurs," said he, his voice low and shaken, because he knew
+that now he touched the decisive minute, after which there could
+only be an irrevocable fate.  "Messieurs, in order to continue
+my experiment I am obliged to go through movements that might
+suggest to you the idea of an attempt at escape, or evasion.  I
+hope you don't regard me as fool enough to have any such thought."
+
+"Oh, monsieur," said the chief, "you are free to go through all
+the maneuvers you wish.  No one escapes us.  Outside we should
+have you within arm's reach quite as well as here.  And, besides,
+it is entirely impossible to escape from here."
+
+"Very well.  Then that is understood.  In such a case, I ask you
+now to remain just where you are and not to budge, whatever I do,
+if you don't wish to inconvenience me.  Only please send someone
+now up to the next floor, where I am going to go again, and let
+him watch what happens from there, but without interfering.  And
+don't speak a word to me during the experiment."
+
+Two of the revolutionaries went to the upper floor, and opened a
+window in order to keep track of what went on in the court.  All
+now showed their intense interest in the acts and gestures of
+Rouletabille.
+
+The reporter placed himself in the shed, between his death-stool
+and his hanging-rope.
+
+"Ready," said he; "I am going to begin"
+
+And suddenly he jumped like a wild man, crossed the court in a
+straight line like a flash, disappeared in the touba, bounded up
+the staircase, felt in his pocket and drew out the keys, opened
+the door of the chamber he had locked, closed it and locked it
+again, turned right-about-face, came down again in the same haste,
+reached the court, and this time swerved to the chair, went round
+it, still running, and returned at the same speed to the shed.  He
+no sooner reached there than he uttered a cry of triumph as he
+glanced at the watch banging from a post.  "I have won," he said,
+and threw himself with a happy thrill upon the fatal scaffold.
+They surrounded him, and he read the liveliest curiosity in all
+their faces.  Panting still from his mad rush, he asked for two
+words apart with the chief of the Secret committee.
+
+The man who had pronounced judgment and who had the bearing of
+Jesus advanced, and there was a brief exchange of words between
+the two young men.  The others drew back and waited at a distance,
+in impressive silence, the outcome of this mysterious colloquy,
+which certainly would settle Rouletabille's fate.
+
+"Messieurs," said the chief, "the young Frenchman is going to be
+allowed to leave.  We give him twenty-four hours to set Natacha
+Feodorovna free.  In twenty-four hours, if he has not succeeded,
+he will return here to give himself up."
+
+A happy murmur greeted these words.  The moment their chief spoke
+thus, they felt sure of Natacha's fate.
+
+The chief added:
+
+"As the liberation of Natacha Feodorovna will be followed, the
+young Frenchman says, by that of our companion Matiew, we decide
+that, if these two conditions are fulfilled, M. Joseph Rouletabille
+is allowed to return in entire security to France, which he ought
+never to have left."
+
+Two or three only of the group said, "That lad is playing with us;
+it is not possible."
+
+But the chief declared:
+
+"Let the lad try.   He accomplishes miracles."
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE TSAR
+
+"I have escaped by remarkable luck," cried Rouletabille, as he
+found himself, in the middle of the night, at the corner of the
+Katharine and the Aptiekarski Pereoulok Canals, while the mysterious
+carriage which had brought him there returned rapidly toward the
+Grande Ecurie.   "What a country!   What a country!"
+
+He ran a little way to the Grand Morskaia, which was near, entered
+the hotel like a bomb, dragged the interpreter from his bed,
+demanded that his bill be made out and that he be told the time of
+the next train for Tsarskoie-Coelo.  The interpreter told him that
+he could not have his bill at such an hour, that he could not leave
+town without his passport and that there was no train for
+Tsarskoie-Coelo, and Rouletabille made an outcry that woke the
+whole hotel.  The guests, fearing always "une scandale," kept close
+to their rooms.  But Monsieur le directeur came down, trembling.
+When he found all that it was about he was inclined to be peremptory,
+but Rouletabille, who had seen "Michael Strogoff" played, cried,
+"Service of the Tsar!" which turned him submissive as a sheep.  He
+made out the young man's bill and gave him his passport, which had
+been brought back by the police during the afternoon.  Rouletabille
+rapidly wrote a message to Koupriane's address, which the messenger
+was directed to have delivered without a moment's delay, under the
+pain of death!  The manager humbly promised and the reporter did
+not explain that by "pain of death" he referred to his own.  Then,
+having ascertained that as a matter of fact the last train had left
+for Tsarskoie-Coelo, he ordered a carriage and hurried to his room
+to pack.
+
+And he, ordinarily so detailed, so particular in his affairs, threw
+things every which way, linen, garments, with kicks and shoves.  It
+was a relief after the emotions he had gone through.  "What a
+country!" he never ceased to ejaculate.  "What a country!"
+
+Then the carriage was ready, with two little Finnish horses, whose
+gait he knew well, an evil-looking driver, who none the less would
+get him there; the trunk; roubles to the domestics.  "Spacibo,
+barine. Spacibo."  (Thank you, monsieur.  Thank you.)
+
+The interpreter asked what address he should give the driver.
+
+"The home of the Tsar."
+
+The interpreter hesitated, believing it to be an unbecoming
+pleasantry, then waved vaguely to the driver, and the horses started.
+
+"What a curious trot!  We have no idea of that in France," thought
+Rouletabille.  "France!  France!  Paris!  Is it possible that soon
+I shall be back!  And that dear Lady in Black!  Ah, at the first
+opportunity I must send her a dispatch of my return - before she
+receives those ikons, and the letters announcing my death.  Scan!
+Scan!  Scan!  (Hurry!)"
+
+The isvotchick pounded his horses, crowding past the dvornicks who
+watched at the corners of the houses during the St. Petersburg night.
+"Dirigi!  dirigi! dirigi!  (Look out!)"
+
+The country, somber in the somber night.  The vast open country.
+What monotonous desolation!  Rapidly, through the vast silent spaces,
+the little car glided over the lonely route into the black arms of
+the pines.
+
+Rouletabille, holding on to his seat, looked about him.
+
+"God!  this is as sad as a funeral display."
+
+Little frozen huts, no larger than tombs, occasionally indicated
+the road, but there was no mark of life in that country except the
+noise of the journey and the two beasts with steaming coats.
+
+Crack!  One of the shafts broken.  "What a country!"  To hear
+Rouletabille one would suppose that only in Russia could the shaft
+of a carriage break.
+
+The repair was difficult and crude, with bits of rope.  And from
+then on the journey was slow and cautious after the frenzied speed.
+In vain Rouletabille reasoned with himself.  "You will arrive
+anyway before morning.  You cannot wake the Emperor in the dead of
+night."  His impatience knew no reason.  "What a country!  What a
+country!"
+
+After some other petty adventures (they ran into a ravine and had
+tremendous difficulty rescuing the trunk) they arrived at
+Tsarskoie-Coelo at a quarter of seven.
+
+Even here the country was not pleasant.  Rouletabille recalled the
+bright awakening of French country.  Here it seemed there was
+something more dead than death: it was this little city with its
+streets where no one passed, not a soul, not a phantom, with its
+houses so impenetrable, the windows even of glazed glass and further
+blinded by the morning hoar-frost shutting out light more thoroughly
+than closed eyelids.  Behind them he pictured to himself a world
+unknown, a world which neither spoke nor wept, nor laughed, a world
+in which no living chord resounded.  "What a country!  'Where is
+the chateau?   I do not know; I have been here only once, in the
+marshal's carriage.  I do not know the way.  Not the great palace!
+The idiot of a driver has brought me to this great palace in order
+to see it, I haven't a doubt.  Does Rouletabille look like a tourist?
+Dourak!  The home of the Tsar, I tell you.  The Tsar's residence.
+The place where the Little Father lives.  Chez Batouchka!"
+
+The driver lashed his ponies.  He drove past all the streets.
+"Stoi!  (Stop!)" cried Rouletabille.  A gate, a soldier, musket at
+shoulder, bayonet in play; another gate, another soldier, another
+bayonet; a park with walls around it, and around the walls more
+soldiers.
+
+"No mistake; here is the place," thought Rouletabille.  There was
+only one prisoner for whom such pains would be taken.  He advanced
+towards the gate.  Ah!  They crossed bayonets under his nose.  Halt!
+No fooling, Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque.  "A subaltern came
+from a guard-house and advanced toward him.  Explanation evidently
+was going to be difficult.  The young man saw that if he demanded
+to see the Tsar, they would think him crazed and that would further
+complicate matters.  He asked for the Grand-Marshal of the Court.
+They replied that he could get the Marshal's address in Tsarskoie.
+But the subaltern turned his head.  He saw someone advancing.  It
+was the Grand-Marshal himself.  Some exceptional service called him,
+without doubt, very early to the Court.
+
+"Why, what are you doing here?  You are not yet gone then, Monsieur
+Roidetabille?"
+
+"Politeness before everything, Monsieur le Grand-Marechal!  I would
+not go before saying 'Au revoir' to the Emperor.  Be so good, since
+you are going to him and he has risen (you yourself have told me he
+rises at seven), be so good as to say to him that I wish to pay my
+respects before leaving."
+
+"Your scheme, doubtless, is to speak to him once more regarding
+Natacha Feodorovna?"
+
+"Not at all.  Tell him, Excellency, that I am come to explain the
+mystery of the eider downs."
+
+"Ah, ah, the eider downs!  You know something?"
+
+"I know all."
+
+The Grand Marshal saw that the young man did not pretend.  He asked
+him to wait a few minutes, and vanished into the park.
+
+A quarter of an hour later, Joseph Rouletabille, of the journal
+"L'Epoque," was admitted into the cabinet that he knew well from
+the first interview he had had there with His Majesty.  The simple
+work-room of a country-house: a few pictures on the walls, portraits
+of the Tsarina and the imperial children on the table; Oriental
+cigarettes in the tiny gold cups.  Rouletabille was far from feeling
+any assurance, for the Grand-Marshal had said to him:
+
+"Be cautious.  The Emperor is in a terrible humor about you."
+
+A door opened and closed.  The Tsar made a sign to the Marshal, who
+disappeared.  Rouletabille bowed low, then watched the Emperor
+closely.
+
+Quite apparently His Majesty was displeased.  The face of the Tsar,
+ordinarily so calm, so pleasant, and smiling, was severe, and his
+eyes had an angry light.  He seated himself and lighted a cigarette.
+
+"Monsieur," he commenced, "I am not otherwise sorry to see you
+before your departure in order to say to you myself that I am not
+at all pleased with you.  If you were one of my subjects I would
+have already started you on the road to the Ural Mountains."
+
+"I remove myself farther, Sire."
+
+"Monsieur, I pray you not to interrupt me and not to speak unless
+I ask you a question."
+
+"Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon."
+
+"I am not duped by the pretext you have offered Monsieur le
+Grand-Marechal in order to penetrate here."
+
+"It is not a pretext, Sire."
+
+"Again!"
+
+"Oh, pardon, Sire, pardon."
+
+"I say to you that, called here to aid me against my enemies, they
+themselves have not found a stronger or more criminal support than
+in you."
+
+"Of what am I accused, Sire?"
+
+"Koupriane - "
+
+"Ah!  Ah!  ...  Pardon!"
+
+"My Chief of Police justly complains that you have traversed all
+his designs and that you have taken it upon yourself to ruin them.
+First, you removed his agents, who inconvenienced you, it seems;
+then, the moment that he had the proof in hand of the abominable
+alliance of Natacha Feodorovna with the Nihilists who attempt the
+assassination of her father your intervention has permitted that
+proof to escape him.  And you have boasted of the feat, monsieur,
+so that we can only consider you responsible for the attempts
+that followed.
+
+"Without you, Natacha would not have attempted to poison her father.
+Without you, they would not have sent to find physicians who could
+blow up the datcha des Iles.  Finally, no later than yesterday,
+when this faithful servant of mine had set a trap they could not
+have escaped from, you have had the audacity, you, to warn them of
+it.  They owe their escape to you.  Monsieur, those are attempts
+against the security of the State which deserves the heaviest
+punishment.  Why, you went out one day from here promising me to
+save General Trebassof from all the plotting assassins who lurked
+about him.  And then you play the game of the assassins!  Your
+conduct is as miserable as that of Natacha Feodorovna is monstrous!"
+
+The Emperor ceased, and looked at Rouletabille, who had not lowered
+his eyes.
+
+"What can you say for yourself?  Speak - now."
+
+"I can only say to Your Majesty that I come to take leave of you
+because my task here is finished.  I have promised you the life of
+General Trebassof, and I bring it to you.  He runs no danger any
+more!  I say further to Your Majesty that there exists nowhere in
+the world a daughter more devoted to her father, even to the death,
+a daughter more sublime than Natacha Feodorovna, nor more innocent."
+
+"Be careful, monsieur.  I inform you that I have studied this affair
+personally and very closely.  You have the proofs of these
+statements you advance?"
+
+Yes, Sire."
+
+"And I, I have the proofs that Natacha Feodorovna is a renegade."
+
+At this contradiction, uttered in a firm voice, the Emperor stirred,
+a flush of anger and of outraged majesty in his face.  But, after
+this first movement, he succeeded in controlling himself, opened a
+drawer brusquely, took out some papers and threw them on the table.
+
+"Here they are."
+
+Rouletabille reached for the papers.
+
+"You do not read Russian, monsieur.  I will translate their purport
+for you.  Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of
+letters between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary
+Committee, and that these letters show the daughter of General
+Trebassof to be in perfect accord with the assassins of her father
+for the execution of their abominable project."
+
+"The death of the general?"
+
+"I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible."
+
+"Obstinate man!  I will read -"
+
+"Useless, Sire.  It is impossible.  There may be in them the
+question of a project, but I am greatly surprised if these
+conspirators have been sufficiently imprudent to write in those
+letters that they count on Natacha to poison her father."
+
+"That, as a matter of fact, is not written, and you yourself are
+responsible for it not being there.  It does not follow any the
+less that Natacha Feodorovna had an understanding with the Nihilists."
+
+"That is correct, Sire."
+
+"Ah, you confess that?"
+
+"I do not confess; I simply affirm that Natacha had an understanding
+with the Nihilists."
+
+"Who plotted their abominable attacks against the ex-Governor of
+Moscow."
+
+"Sire, since Natacha had an understanding with the Nihilists, it
+was not to kill her father, but to save him.  And the project of
+which you hold here the proofs, but of whose character you are
+unaware, is to end the attacks of which you speak, instantly."
+
+"You say that."
+
+"I speak the truth, Sire."
+
+"Where are the proofs?  Show me your papers."
+
+"I have none.  I have only my word."
+
+"That is not sufficient."
+
+"It will be sufficient, once you have heard me."
+
+"I listen."
+
+"Sire, before revealing to you a secret on which depends the life
+of General Trebassof, you must permit me some questions.  Your
+Majesty holds the life of the general very dear?"
+
+"What has that to do with it?"
+
+"Pardon.  I desire that Your Majesty assure me on that point."
+
+"The general has protected my throne.  He has saved the Empire from
+one of the greatest dangers that it has ever run.  If the servant
+who has done such a service should he rewarded by death, by the
+punishment that the enemies of my people prepare for him in the
+darkness, I should never forgive myself.  There have been too many
+martyrs already!"
+
+"You have replied to me, Sire, in such a way that you make me
+understand there is no sacrifice - even to the sacrifice of your
+amour-propre the greatest a ruler can suffer - no sacrifice too
+dear to ransom from death one of these martyrs."
+
+"Ah, ah!  These gentlemen lay down conditions to me!  Money.  Money.
+They need money.  And at how much do they rate the head of the
+general?"
+
+"Sire, that does not touch Your Majesty, and I never will come to
+offer you such a bargain.  That matter concerns only Natacha
+Feodorovna, who has offered her fortune!"
+
+"Her fortune!  But she has nothing."
+
+"She will have one at the death of the general.  Now she engages to
+give it all to the Revolutionary Committee the day the general dies
+- if he dies a natural death!"
+
+The Emperor rose, greatly agitated.
+
+"To the Revolutionary Party!  What do you tell me!  The fortune of
+the general!  Eh, but these are great riches."
+
+"Sire, I have told you the sercet.  You alone should know it and
+guard it forever, and I have your sacred word that, when the hour
+comes, you will let the prize go where it is promised.  If the
+general ever learns of such a thing, such a treaty, he would easily
+arrange that nothing should remain, and he would denounce his
+daughter who has saved him, and then he would promptly he the prey
+of his enemies and yours, from whom you wish to save him.  I have
+told the secret not to the Emperor, but to the representative of
+God on the Russian earth.  I have confessed it to the priest, who
+is bound to forget the words uttered only before God.  Allow Natacha
+Feodorovna her own way, Sire!  And her father, your servant, whose
+life is so dear to you, is saved.  At the natural death of the
+general his fortune will go to his daughter, who has disposed of
+it."
+
+Rouletabille stopped a moment to judge of the effect produced.  It
+was not good.  The face of his august listener was more and more
+in a frown.
+
+The silence continued, and now the reporter did not dare to break
+it.  He waited.
+
+Finally, the Emperor rose and walked forward and backward across
+the room, deep in thought.  For a moment he stopped at the window
+and waved paternally to the little Tsarevitch, who played in the
+park with the grand-duchesses.
+
+Then he returned to Rouletabille and pinched his ear.
+
+"But, tell me, how have you learned all this?  And who then has
+poisoned the general and his wife, in the kiosk, if not Natacha?"
+
+"Natacha is a saint.  It is nothing, Sire, that she has been raised
+in luxury, and vows' herself to misery;  but it is sublime that she
+guards in her heart the secret of her sacrifice from everyone, and,
+in spite of all, because secrecy is necessary and has been required
+of her.  See her guarding it before her father, who has been brought
+to believe in the dishonor of his daughter, and still to be silent
+when a word would have proved her innocent; guarding it face to face
+with her fiance, whom she loves, and repulses because marriage is
+forbidden to the girl who is supposed to be rich and who will be
+poor; guarding it, above all - and guarding it still - in the depths
+of the dungeon, and ready to take the road to Siberia under the
+accusation of assassination, because that ignominy is necessary for
+the safety of her father.  That, Sire - oh, Sire, do you see!"
+
+"But you, how have you been able to penetrate into this guarded
+secret?"
+
+"By watching her eyes.  By observing, when she believed herself
+alone, the look of terror and the gleams of love.  And, beyond all,
+by looking at her when she was looking at her father.  Ah, Sire,
+there were moments when on her mystic face one could read the wild
+joy and devotion of the martyr.  Then, by listening and by piecing
+together scraps of phrases inconsistent with the idea of treachery,
+but which immediately acquired meaning if one thought of the
+opposite, of sacrifice.  Ah, that is it, Sire!  Consider always the
+alternative motive.  What I finally could see myself, the others,
+who had a fixed opinion about Natacha, could not see.  And why had
+they their fixed opinion?  Simply because the idea of compromise
+with the Nihilists aroused at once the idea of complicity!  For
+such people it is always the same thing - they never can see but
+the one side of the situation.  But, nevertheless, the situation
+had two sides, as all situations have.  The question was simple.
+The compromise was certain.  But why had Natacha compromised
+herself with the Nihilists?  Was it necessarily in order to lose
+her father?  Might it not be, on the contrary, in order to save
+him?  When one has rendezvous with an enemy it is not necessarily
+to enter into his game, sometimes it is to disarm him with an
+offer.  Between these two hypotheses, which I alone took the
+trouble to examine, I did not hesitate long, because Natacha's
+every attitude proclaimed her innocence: and her eyes, Sire, in
+which one read purity and love, prevailed always with me against
+all the passing appearances of disgrace and crime.
+
+"I saw that Natacha negotiated with them.  But what had she to
+place in the scales against the life of her father?  Nothing
+- except the fortune that she would have one day.
+
+"Some words she spoke about the impossibility of immediate marriage,
+about poverty which could always knock at the door of any mansion,
+remarks that I was able to overhear between Natacha and Boris
+Mourazoff, which to him meant nothing, put me definitely on the
+right road.  And I was not long in ascertaining that the negotiations
+in this formidable affair were taking place in the very house of
+Trebassof!  Pursued without by the incessant spying of Koupriane,
+who sought to surprise her in company with the Nihilists, watched
+closely, too, by the jealous supervision of Boris, who was jealous
+of Michael Nikolaievitch, she had to seize the only opportunities
+possible for such negotiations, at night, in her own home, the sole
+place where, by the very audacity of it, she was able to play her
+part in any security.
+
+"Michael Nikolaievitch knew Annouchka.  There was certainly the
+point of departure for the negotiations which that felon-officer,
+traitor to all sides, worked at will toward the realization of his
+own infamous project.  I do not think that Michael ever confided to
+Natacha that he was, from the very first, the instrument of the
+revolutionaries.  Natacha, who sought to get in touch with the
+revolutionary party, had to entrust him with a correspondence for
+Annouchka, following which he assumed direction of the affair,
+deceiving the Nihilists, who, in their absolute penury, following
+the revolt, had been seduced by the proposition of General
+Trebassof's daughter, and deceiving Natacha, whom he pretended to
+love and by whom he believed himself loved.  At this point in the
+affair Natacha came to understand that it was necessary to propitiate
+Michael Nikolaievitch, her indispensable intermediary, and she
+managed to do it so well that Boris Mourazoff felt the blackest
+jealousy.  On his side, Michael came to believe that Natacha would
+have no other husband than himself, but he did not propose to marry
+a penniless girl!  And, fatally, it followed that Natacha, in that
+infernal intrigue, negotiated for the life of her father through
+the agency of a man who, underhandedly, sought to strike at the
+general himself, because the immediate death of her father before
+the negotiation was completed would enrich Natacha, who had given
+Michael so much to hope.  That frightful tragedy, Sire, in which
+we have lived our most painful hours, appeared to me, confident of
+Natacha's innocence, as absolutely simple as for the others it
+seemed complicated.  Natacha believed she had in Michael
+Nikolaievitch a man who worked for her, but he worked only for
+himself.  The day that I was convinced of it, Sire, by my examination
+of the approach to the balcony, I had a mind to warn Natacha, to go
+to her and say, 'Get rid of that man.  He will betray you.  If you
+need an agent, I am at your service.'  But that day, at Krestowsky,
+destiny prevented my rejoining Natacha; and I must attribute it to
+destiny, which would not permit the loss of that man.  Michael
+Nikolaievitch, who was a traitor, was too much in the 'combination,'
+and if he had been rejected he would have ruined everything.  I
+caused him to disappear!  The great misfortune then was that
+Natacha, holding me responsible for the death of a man she believed
+innocent, never wished to see me again, and, when she did see me,
+refused to have any conversation with me because I proposed that I
+take Michael's place for her with the revolutionaries.  She would
+have nothing to do with me in order to protect her secret.  Meantime,
+the Nihilists believed they were betrayed by Natacha when they
+learned of the death of Michael, and they undertook to avenge him.
+They seized Natacha, and bore her off by force.  The unhappy girl
+learned then, that same evening, of the attack which destroyed the
+datcha and, happily, still spared her father.  This time she reached
+a definite understanding with the revolutionary party.  Her bargain
+was made.  I offer you for proof of it only her attitude when she
+was arrested, and, even in that moment, her sublime silence."
+
+While Rouletabille urged his view, the Emperor let him talk on and
+on, and now his eyes were dim.
+
+"Is it possible that Natacha has not been the accomplice, in all,
+of Michael Nikolaievitch?" he demanded.  "It was she who opened her
+father's house to him that night.  If she was not his accomplice
+she would have mistrusted him, she would have watched him."
+
+"Sire, Michael Nikolaievitch was a very clever man.  He knew so
+well how to play upon Natacha, and Annouchka, in whom she placed
+all her hope.  It was from Annouchka that she wished to hold the
+life of her father.  It was the word, the signature of Annouchka
+that she demanded before giving her own.  The evening Michael
+Nikolaievitch died, he was charged to bring her that signature.  I
+know it, myself, because, pretending drunkenness, I was able to
+overhear enough of a conversation between Annouchka and a man whose
+name I must conceal.  Yes, that last evening, Michael Nikolaievitch,
+when he entered the datcha, had the signature in his pocket, but
+also he carried the weapon or the poison with which he already had
+attempted and was resolved to reach the father of her whom he
+believed was assuredly to be his wife."
+
+"You speak now of a paper, very precious, that I regret not to
+possess, monsieur," said the Tsar coldly, "because that paper alone
+would have proved to me the innocence of your protegee."
+
+"If you have not it, Sire, you know well that it is because I have
+wished you to have it.  The corpse had been searched by Katharina,
+the little Bohemian, and I, Sire, prevented Koupriane from finding
+that signature in Katharina's possession.  In saving the secret I
+have saved General Trebassof's life, who would have preferred to
+die rather than accept such an arrangement."
+
+The Tsar stopped Rouletabille in his enthusiastic outburst.
+
+"All that would be very beautiful and perhaps admirable," said he,
+more and more coldly, because he had entirely recovered himself,"
+if Natacha had not, herself, with her own hand, poisoned her father
+and her step-mother! - always with arsenate of soda."
+
+"Oh, some of that had been left in the house," replied Rouletabille.
+"They had not given me all of it for the analysis after the first
+attempt.  But Natacha is innocent of that, Sire.  I swear it to you.
+As true as that I have certainly escaped being hanged."
+
+"How, hanged?"
+
+"Oh, it has not amounted to much now, Your Majesty."
+
+And Rouletabille recounted his sinister adventure, up to the moment
+of his death, or, rather, up to the moment when he had believed he
+was going to die.
+
+The Emperor listened to the young reporter with complete
+stupefaction.  He murmured, "Poor lad!" then, suddenly:
+
+"But how have you managed to escape them?"
+
+"Sire they have given me twenty-four hours for you to set Natacha
+at liberty, that is to say, that you restore her to her rights, all
+her rights, and she be always the recognized heiress of Trebassof.
+Do you understand me, Sire?
+
+"I will understand you, perhaps, when you have explained to me how
+Natacha has not poisoned her father and step-mother."
+
+"There are some things so simple, Sire, that one is able to think
+of them only with a rope around one's neck.  But let us reason it
+out.  We have here four persons, two of whom have been poisoned
+and the other two with them have not been.  Now, it is certain that,
+of the four persons, the general has not wished to poison himself,
+that his wife has not wished to poison the general, and that, as
+for me, I have not wished to poison anybody.  That, if we are
+absolutely sure of it, leaves as the poisoner only Natacha.  That
+is so certain, so inevitable, that there is only one case, one
+alone, where, in such conditions, Natacha would not be regarded as
+the poisoner."
+
+"I confess that, logically, I do not see," said the Tsar, "anything
+beyond that but more and more of a tangle.  What is it?"
+
+"Logically, the only case would be that where no one had been
+poisoned, that is to say, where no one had taken any poison."
+
+"But the presence of the poison has been established!" cried the
+Emperor.
+
+"Still, the presence of the poison proves only its presence, not
+the crime.  Both poison and ipecac were found in the stomach
+expulsions.  From which a crime has been concluded.  What state
+of affairs was necessary for there to have been no crime?  Simply
+that the poison should have appeared in the expulsions after the
+ipecac.  Then there would have been no poisoning, but everyone
+would believe there had been.  And, for that, someone would have
+poured the poison into the expulsions."
+
+The Tsar never quitted Rouletabille's eyes.
+
+"That is extraordinary," said he.  "But of course it is possible.
+In any case, it is still only an hypothesis.
+
+"And so long as it could be an hypothesis that no one thought of,
+it could be just that, Sire.  But if I am here, it is because I
+have the proof that that hypothesis corresponds to the reality.
+That necessary proof of Natacha's innocence, Your Majesty, I have
+found with the rope around my neck.  Ah, I tell you it was time!
+What has hindered us hitherto, I do not say to realize, but even
+to think, of that hypothesis?  Simply that we thought the illness
+of the general had commenced before the absorption of the ipecac,
+since Matrena Petrovna had been obliged to go for it to her
+medicine-closet after his illness commenced, in order to counteract
+the poison of which she also appeared to be the victim.
+
+"But, if I acquire proof that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac at
+hand before the sickness, my hypothesis of pretense at poisoning
+has irresistible force.  Because, if it was not to use it before,
+why did she have it with her before?  And if it was not that she
+wished to hide the fact that she had used it before, why did she
+wish to make believe that she went to find it afterwards?
+
+"Then, in order to show Natacha's innocence, here is what must be
+proved: that Matrena Petrovna had the ipecac on her, even when she
+went to look for it."
+
+"Young Rouletabille, I hardly breathe," said the Tsar.
+
+"Breathe, Sire.  The proof is here.  Matrena Petrovna necessarily
+had the ipecac on her, because after the sickness she had not the
+time for going to find it.  Do you understand, Sire?  Between the
+moment when she fled from the kiosk and when she returned there,
+she had not the actual time to go to her medicine-closet to find
+the ipecac."
+
+"How have you been able to compute the time?" asked the Emperor.
+
+"Sire, the Lord God directed, Who made me admire Feodor
+Feodorovitch's watch just when we went to read, and to read on the
+dial of that watch two minutes to the hour, and the Lord God
+directed yet, Who, after the scene of the poison, at the time
+Matrena returned carrying the ipecac publicly, made the hour
+strike from that watch in the general's pocket.
+
+"Two minutes.  It was impossible for Matrena to have covered that
+distance in two minutes.  She could only have entered the deserted
+datcha and left it again instantly.  She had not taken the trouble
+to mount to the floor above, where, she told us and repeated when
+she returned, the ipecac was in the medicine-closet.  She lied!
+And if she lied, all is explained.
+
+"It was the striking of a watch, Sire, with a striking apparatus
+and a sound like the general's, there in the quarters of the
+revolutionaries, that roused my memory and indicated to me in a
+second this argument of the time.
+
+"I got down from my gallows-scaffold, Your Majesty, to experiment
+on that time-limit.  Oh, nothing and nobody could have prevented
+my making that experiment before I died, to prove to myself that
+Rouletabille had all along been right.  I had studied the grounds
+around the datcha enough to be perfectly exact about the distances.
+I found in the court where I was to be hanged the same number of
+steps that there were from the kiosk to the steps of the veranda,
+and, as the staircase of the revolutionaries had fewer steps, I
+lengthened my journey a few steps by walking around a chair.
+Finally, I attended to the opening and closing of the doors that
+Matrena would have had to do.  I had looked at a watch when I
+started.  When I returned, Sire, and looked at the watch again, I
+had taken three minutes to cover the distance - and it is not for
+me to boast, but I am a little livelier than the excellent Matrena.
+
+"Matrena had lied.  Matrena had simulated the poisoning of the
+general.  Matrena had coolly poured ipecac in the general's glass
+while we were illustrating with matches a curious-enough theory of
+the nature of the constitution of the empire."
+
+"But this is abominable!" cried the Emperor, this time definitely
+convinced by the intricate argument of Rouletabille.  "And what end
+could this imitation serve?'"
+
+"The end of preventing the real crime!  The end that she believed
+herself to have attained, Sire, to have Natacha removed forever
+- Natacha whom she believed capable of any crime."
+
+"Oh, it is monstrous!  Feodor Feodorovitch has often told me that
+Matrena loved Natacha sincerely."
+
+"She loved her sincerely up to the day that she believed her guilty.
+Matrena Petrovna was sure of Natacha's complicity in Michael
+Nikolaievitch's attempt to poison the general.  I shared her stupor,
+her despair, when Feodor Feodorovitch took his daughter in his arms
+after that tragic night, and embraced her.  He seemed to absolve
+her.  It was then that Matrena resolved within herself to save the
+general in spite of himself, but I remain persuaded that, if she
+had dared such a plan against Natacha, it would only be because of
+what she believed definite proof of her step-daughter's infamy.
+These papers, Sire, that you have shown me, and which show, if
+nothing more, an understanding between Natacha and the
+revolutionaries, could only have been in the possession of Michael
+or of Natacha.  Nothing was found in Michael's quarters.  Tell me,
+then, that Matrena found them in Natacha's apartment.  Then, she
+did not hesitate!"
+
+"If one outlined her crime to her, do you believe she would confess
+it?  asked the Emperor.
+
+"I am so sure of it that I have had her brought here.  By now
+Koupriane should be here at the chateau, with Matrena Petrovna."
+
+"You think of everything, monsieur."
+
+The Tsar moved to ring a bell.  Rouletabille raised his hand.
+
+"Not yet, Sire.  I ask that you permit me not to be present at the
+confusion of that brave, heroic, good woman who has loved me much.
+But before I go, Sire - do you promise me?"
+
+The Emperor believed he had not heard correctly or did not grasp
+the meaning.  He repeated what Rouletabille had said.  The young
+reporter repeated it once more:
+
+"Do you promise?  No, Sire, I am not mad.  I dare to ask you that.
+I have confided my honor to Your Majesty.  I have told you Natacha's
+secret.  Well, now, before Matrena's confession, I dare to ask you:
+Promise me to forget that secret.  It will not suffice merely to
+give Natacha back again to her father.  It is necessary to leave
+her course open to her - if you really wish to save General
+Trebassof.  What do you decide, Sire?"
+
+"It is the first time anyone has questioned me, monsieur."
+
+"Ah, well, it will be the last.  But I humbly beg Your Majesty to
+reply."
+
+"That would be many millions given to the Revolution."
+
+"Oh, Sire, they are not given yet.  The general is sixty-five, but
+he has many years ahead of him, if you wish it.  By the time he
+dies - a natural death, if you wish it - your enemies will have
+disarmed."
+
+"My enemies!" murmured the Tsar in a low voice.  "No, no; my enemies
+never will disarm.  Who, then, will be able to disarm them?" added he,
+melancholily, shaking his head.
+
+"Progress, Sire!  If you wish it."
+
+The Tsar turned red and looked at the audacious young man, who met
+the gaze of His Majesty frankly.
+
+"It is kind of you to say that, my young friend.  But you speak as
+a child."
+
+"As a child of France to the Father of the Russian people."
+
+It was said in a voice so solemn and, at the same time, so naively
+touching, that the Tsar started.  He gazed again for some time in
+silence at this boy who, this time, turned away his brimming eyes.
+
+"Progress and pity, Sire."
+
+"Well," said the Emperor, "it is promised."
+
+Rouletabille was not able to restrain a joyous movement hardly in
+keeping.
+
+"You can ring now, Sire."
+
+And the Tsar rang.
+
+The reporter passed into a little salon, where he found the Marshal,
+Koupriane and Matrena Petrovna, who was "in a state."
+
+She threw a suspicious glance at Rouletabille, who was not treated
+this morning as the dear little domovoi-doukh.  She permitted
+herself to be conducted, already trembling, before the Emperor.
+
+"What happened?" asked Koupriane agitatedly.
+
+"It so happened, my dear Monsieur Koupriane, that I have the pardon
+of the Emperor for all the crimes you have charged against me, and
+that I wish to shake hands before I go, without any rancor.  Monsieur
+Koupriane, the Emperor will tell you himself that General Trebassof
+is saved, and that his life will never be in danger any more.  Do
+you know what follows?  It follows that you must at once set Matiew
+free, whom I have taken, if you remember, under my protection.  Tell
+him that he is going to make his way in France.  I will find him a
+place on condition that he forgets certain lashes."
+
+"Such a promise!  Such an attitude toward me!" cried Koupriane.
+"But I will wait for the Emperor to tell me all these fine things.
+And your Natacha, what do you do with her?"
+
+"We release her also, monsieur.  Natacha never has been the monster
+that you think."
+
+"How can you say that?  Someone at least is guilty."
+
+"There are two guilty.  The first, Monsieur le Marechal."
+
+"What!" cried the Marshal.
+
+"Monsieur le Marechal, who had the imprudence to bring such
+dangerous grapes to the datcha des Iles, and - and -"
+
+"And the other?" asked Koupriane, more and more anxiously.
+
+"Listen there," said Rouletabille, pointing toward the Emperor's
+cabinet.
+
+The sound of tears and sobs reached them.  The grief and the remorse
+of Matrena Petrovna passed the walls of the cabinet.  Koupriane was
+completely disconcerted.
+
+Suddenly the Emperor appeared.  He was in a state of exaltation
+such as had never been known in him.  Koupriane, dismayed, drew back.
+
+"Monsieur," said the Tsar to him, "I require that Natacha Feodorovna
+be here within the next two hours, and that she be conducted with
+the honors due to her rank.  Natacha is innocent, and we must make
+reparation to her."
+
+Then, turning toward Rouletabille:
+
+"I have learned what she knows and what she owes to you - we owe
+to you, my young friend."
+
+The Tsar said "my young friend." Rouletabille, at this last moment
+before his departure, spoke Russian?
+
+"Then she knows nothing, Sire.  That is better, Sire, because Your
+Majesty and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know
+anything."
+
+"You are right," said the Tsar thoughtfully.  "But, my friend, what
+am I to do for you?"
+
+"Sire, one favor.  Do not let me miss the train at 10:55."
+
+And he threw himself on his knees.
+
+"Remain on your knees, my friend.  You are ready, thus.  Monsieur
+le Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately
+sign.  Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet,
+one of my St. Anne's collars."
+
+And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque," was created
+officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him
+the accolade.
+
+"They combine the whole course of time in this country," thought
+Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.
+
+For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo
+station.  Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the
+young reporter's hand when they learned of his impending departure
+were Ivan Petrovitch, the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and
+Athanase Georgevitch, the lively advocate so well known for his
+famous exploits with knife and fork.  They had come naturally with
+all their bandages and dressings, which made them look like glorious
+ruins.  They brought the greetings of Feodor Feodorovitch, who still
+had a little fever, and of Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the Lithuanian,
+who had both legs broken.
+
+Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his
+last drink of champagne.  When nothing remained in the bottle and
+everyone had embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not
+start quite yet, Athanase Georgevitch opened a second "last" bottle.
+It was then that Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath.
+They invited him to drink, and he accepted.  But he had need to
+speak to Rouletabille in private, and he drew the reporter, after
+excuses, out into the corridor.
+
+"It is the Emperor himself who has sent me," said the high dignitary
+with emotion.  "He has sent me about the eider downs.  You forgot to
+explain the eider downs to him."
+
+"Niet!" replied Rouletabille, laughing.  "That is nothing.  Nitchevo!
+His Majesty's eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the
+feathers that you have shown me demonstrates.  Well, open them now.
+They are a cheap imitation, as the second feather proves.  The
+return of the false eider downs, before evening, proves then that
+they hoped the substitution would pass undetected.  That is all.
+Caracho!  Collapse of the hoax.  Your health!  Vive le Tsar!"
+
+"Caracho!  Caracho!"
+
+The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man
+and a woman.  It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.
+
+Gounsovski stood on the running-board.
+
+"Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands.  You are very
+congenial."
+
+"Compliments, madame."
+
+"Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house
+yesterday."
+
+"I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into
+Finland.  I do not regret it, monsieur."
+
+The train trembled and moved.  They cried, "Vive la France!  Vive
+la Russe!"  Athanase Georgevitch wept.  Matrena Petrovna, at a
+window of the station, whither she had timidly retired, waved a
+handkerchief to the little domovoi-doukh, who had made her see
+everything in the right light, and whom she did not dare to embrace
+after the terrible affair of the false poison and the Tsar's anger.
+
+The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.
+
+As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.
+
+All the same, as the train took its way toward the frontier,
+Rouletabille threw himself back on the cushions, and said:
+
+"Ouf!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Secret of the Night, by Gaston Leroux
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET OF THE NIGHT ***
+
+This file should be named tsotn11.txt or tsotn11.zip
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