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} - .c017 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; text-indent: -1em; - padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; } - .c018 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; } - .c019 { font-size: 3em; } - .c020 { font-size: 0.75em; } - .c021 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c022 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c023 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 1em; font-size: 85%; - text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c024 { margin-top: 1em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c025 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-right: 5.56%; font-size: 85%; text-align: right; - } - body {width:80%; margin:auto; } - .tnbox {background-color:#E3E4FA;border:1px solid silver;padding: 0.5em; - margin:2em 10% 0 10%; } - .box1 {border-style: double; border-width:thick; padding: 1em; - margin: 0 10% 0 10% } - h1 {font-size: 1.50em; text-align: left; } - h2 {font-size: 1.50em; text-align: center; } - </style> - </head> - <body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Samovar Girl, by Frederick F. Moore</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Samovar Girl</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Frederick F. Moore</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 18, 2022 [eBook #67865]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAMOVAR GIRL ***</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p><span class='small'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>═════════════════════</p> -<div> - <h1 class='c002'>THE SAMOVAR GIRL<br />FREDERICK MOORE</h1> -</div> -<p class='c003'>═════════════════════</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> -<p class='c005'> </p> -<div class='box1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='c006'>THE SAMOVAR GIRL</span></div> - <div class='c000'>BY</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c007'>FREDERICK MOORE</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF</span></div> - <div><span class='small'>“SAILOR GIRL,” “SIBERIA TO-DAY,” “THE DEVIL’S ADMIRAL,”</span></div> - <div><span class='small'>“ISLE O’ DREAMS,” ETC.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c008'> </p> -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/publogo.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<p class='c009'> </p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c010'> - <div><span class='c011'>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</span></div> - <div>NEW YORK :: 1921 :: LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> -<p class='c009'> </p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c012' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div>COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY</div> - <div><span class='c011'>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</span></div> - <div class='c013'>Copyright, 1921, by Frederick Moore</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c010'> - <div>TO</div> - <div><span class='c014'>ROBERT H. DAVIS</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c010' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c015'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='16%' /> -<col width='71%' /> -<col width='12%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c016'><span class='xsmall'>CHAPTER</span></td> - <td class='c017'> </td> - <td class='c018'><span class='xsmall'>PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'> </td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Prologue: The Valley of Despair</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>I.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Twenty Years After</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>II.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Intelligence Officer</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_32'>32</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>III.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Firing Squad</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_44'>44</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>IV.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Place of the Vow</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>V.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Ataman’s Decision</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>VI.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Prison on the Hill</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>VII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Old Rimsky Thinks</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_94'>94</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>VIII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Peter Lays His Plans</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_105'>105</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>IX.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Ilya Uses His Wits</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_111'>111</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>X.</td> - <td class='c017'>“<span class='sc'>An American Has Come!</span>”</td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_121'>121</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XI.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Flight</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_131'>131</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Hidden Again</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_140'>140</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XIII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Katerin Plans to Meet the American</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XIV.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Samovar Girl</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_160'>160</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XV.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Trap Shuts</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_174'>174</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XVI.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Katerin’s Stratagem</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_182'>182</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XVII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Setting the Snare</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_195'>195</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XVIII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Trail Grows Hot</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_206'>206</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XIX.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Face to Face</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_217'>217</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XX.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Blow</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_232'>232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XXI.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Cat’s Paw Has Claws</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_244'>244</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XXII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Officer from the Ataman</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_254'>254</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XXIII.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>A Life for a Life</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_265'>265</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XXIV.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>A New Tune on an Old Fiddle</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_274'>274</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XXV.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>The Final Reckoning</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_285'>285</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c016'>XXVI.</td> - <td class='c017'><span class='sc'>Farewell</span></td> - <td class='c018'><a href='#Page_294'>294</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span><span class='c019'>THE SAMOVAR GIRL</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c015'>PROLOGUE<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE VALLEY OF DESPAIR</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='c021'><i>Clank! Clank! Clank!</i></p> - -<p class='c009'>It was the music of chains. A column of unfortunates -from the big prison on the hill swung down the road and -turned into the wide street between the log houses. They -were on their way out into the <i>taiga</i> to cut wood and -hew timbers under a guard of Cossacks. The chains -hanging from the wrists of the convicts to their ankles, -crossed in front of them but hidden under the <i>khalats</i>—long -gray capes worn by exiles—made the doleful music -as the long line of marchers, gray as the cold fog of the -morning, moved up the Czar’s road and was lost in the -frozen mists that masked the edge of the wilderness.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The sun was up, but it was only a patch of weak yellow -light against the dull sky which roofed the Valley of -Despair. Lowering wisps of fog still shrouded the hills -about the exile settlement—fog that had lifted from -the frozen and desolate reaches of the Ingoda, from the -smoking huts of the tiny plain, from the snow-streaked -slopes on which squatted like a hideous monster the great -low, rambling prison of yellow-painted logs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The morning was bitter cold. The streets were almost -deserted. The windows of the log buildings still glowed -with the dim yellow light of guttering candles behind the -frost-bound panes. White smoke from the chimneys of -the houses and huts rose straight up into the air, for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>there was not even the ghost of a breeze. And the cold -still air carried sounds with startling clearness—the tolling -of a bell at lazy intervals, the barking of a dog, the -distant cry of a wolf, and now the ringing clatter of axes -being driven into frost-laden wood by the invisible exiles.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shadows appeared at the windows frequently. For the -Czar’s mail was due this morning from Irkutsk, and the -house-huddled people were waiting for the first tinkle of -the sledge-bells. The mail! The mail from Moscow, -from Petersburg, from Tambov, from the Valley of the -Beloved Volga, so many heartbreaking versts away! The -mail would bring life and death, joy and sorrow, sentence -and pardon to Chita, in the Valley of Despair. The mail -would bring the Czar’s word, the heaven-sent mercy, or the -curt condemnation. The mail, by the relays of sledges, -was the reach of the scepter from the throne of majesty to -the Valley of Despair in Siberia.</p> - -<p class='c009'>None listened more eagerly for the first jingle of the -mail-sledges that morning than Peter, son of Peter, in -the tiny hut of Gorekin the bootmaker, an exile but by -the gracious compassion of the governor a member of the -“free gang.” Peter, son of Peter, was only ten years old. -He worked with his father in the boxlike hut on the Sofistkaya, -helping to make boots for the officers of the Czar -and the Cossacks.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s blue eyes were set deeply in his head, for he -had never had enough to eat—not even enough sticky -black bread, or enough <i>eèkrah</i> which is the raw, red eggs -of the big salmon. Peter was a tall boy for his age, but -not very sturdy. His yellow hair was clipped close to -his scalp, and his little round head was bent low while -his hammer <i>tap-tapped</i> at the wooden pegs in the boot -soles by the candlelight.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father was a political. He had been sent to -Siberia for thinking—thinking about government, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>inducing others to think. Which was foolish, for the -Czar and his ministers settled all affairs of government -for the good of the people. Yet God was good, for Peter’s -father had been admitted to the free gang because he -could make boots, and so did not have to stay in the big -prison on the hill. And Michael Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff, -Excellence, and Czar’s Governor, allowed Peter and -his father to have a tiny hut to themselves—a place of -one room, one window, a fire-pit with a stone chimney, -and shelves against the log wall on which to sleep. They -even had a battered brass samovar in which to boil water -for their tea.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father was not old, though his back was bent -by years in chains before Peter was born, and then by -more years of stooping over a stitching-frame sewing -boots. “Gorekin the old bootmaker,” everybody called -him, partly because his face was covered with a long and -heavy beard, and partly because his eyes had such an old -look in them—eyes which looked past everybody far into -the future and seemed to be waiting for some strange -vision to appear.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was proud of his father, and loved him beyond -expression. For his father knew everything—even -knew how many versts it was to Moscow, information -which many people gave money to know, and knowing, -kept the secret for themselves. There are many things in -an exile colony which it is forbidden to know, so whisper -talk is bought and sold, some dealing in secrets of a certain -kind, and some selling coming news about revolutions.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s little round head was always being puzzled, and -his blue eyes were always full of questions. He loved the -Czar, just as everybody else loved the Czar—only when -there were no soldiers listening, or no secret police of the -Third Division, men would swear bitter oaths in whispers -against majesty. It was not easy to tell who might be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>secret police, for your friend to-day, talking against the -government of the Czar, might to-morrow prove to be one -of the Third Division, and then doors of the big prison on -the hill would open for you, and dawn would meet you -with an execution squad.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter could not remember his mother. She had followed -his father into exile, and Peter had been born in -The Street of the Dames. His mother had died that day. -Peter’s father said now it was just as well, for life was -really death in the Valley of Despair. And though -Peter was only ten, he already knew something of the bitterness -of life. Had he not seen a man with a back all -raw from whipping, who had escaped from the prison? -Yes, he had come crawling to the bootmaker’s hut, too -weak to go on into the wilderness with the others who -had escaped, and could only lie all night close to the -fire-pit, waiting for the soldiers to come in the morning -and take him away.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But there were pleasant things in life for Peter. There -were the ladies who came from The Street of the Dames. -They spoke Czar’s Russian and were grand ladies. They -came to have boots mended, but they stayed long and whispered -much with Peter’s father, winking and nodding their -heads about nothing at all. Sometimes they brought little -cakes with spices in them, or a handful of dry tea, or -a bit of sugar from China, or sweetened ginger-root. -And sometimes they gave Peter as much as a ruble. Their -husbands were up in the big prison on the hill, and the -grand ladies had followed to the Valley of Despair and -had built for themselves with their own hands a whole -street of log houses.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And for some reason which Peter could never fathom, -after these ladies from The Street of the Dames came to -have their shoes mended, Peter’s father always remembered -that he had to go up to the prison with a pair of new -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>boots for an officer, or to measure feet for a new pair, -or to get some leather—always an errand. And the -ladies would wait till he returned, when they cried quietly -into their handkerchiefs, and after much whispering went -away to their log houses.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But the greatest puzzle of all to Peter was that his -father had been exiled for reading books, yet his father -now read the Bible, which was a book, and told all about -God and the Czar. But, of course, the Bible was always -hidden behind the pile of wood close to the fire-pit.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Peter’s father read the almanacs which came every -year from Moscow, and everybody knows an almanac is -nothing more nor less than a book. Everybody had a new -almanac every year, and wonderful books they were too, -for they told about the sun, moon, and stars, the holy days -of Holy Russia, the goodness and greatness of the Czar, -the names and name days of grand dukes and grand -duchesses and all the wonderful things they had done for -the poor people, and had pictures of saints, and depictions -of miracles, pictures of watches which might be purchased -in Moscow or Petrograd by people who were rich, -and pictures of skeletons of dead men! Oh, the almanacs -were wonderful!</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter had worn his last year’s one out from much reading -of it by the fire of nights with his father. And now -the new one from Moscow was two months late. That was -why Peter watched so anxiously every morning for the -mail-sledges from Irkutsk, which was on the Petersburg -side of Lake Baikal.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So this morning he was pegging away fast with his -hammer, his father working near by and whispering to -himself, a way he had when busy. The candle was still -guttering between them, the fire in the pit was smoking -comfortably, and the old brass samovar was singing -merrily on a shelf.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>Peter leaned over from his bench every few minutes, to -blow a hole in the frost on the windowpane, and look up -the Sofistkaya in the direction of the post-house. But -he could not see far yet, from the fog, though he did see -the column of unfortunates going out into the wilderness -with the Cossack soldiers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter rather feared the Cossacks. They were “free -men”—big swaggering fellows with blue breeches and -yellow stripes on their tunics and some of them with colored -tops in their tall <i>shlapkas</i>—round caps of fuzzy -wool. And though Peter feared the Cossacks, he was -also proud of them, for they were a part of Holy Russia -and the power of the Czar flashed from the points of their -lances as they galloped over the plains. And the Czar -was Ataman of all the Cossacks, just as he was Emperor -of all Russians. And there were more Russians in the -world than all other peoples put together, counting the -barbarians of far lands across the seas.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter longed for the day when he would be big enough -to become a soldier of majesty, and wear on his cap the -little oval button—“The Eye of the Czar.” Then he -would know all things. His father always smiled sadly -at such ideas.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Peter Petrovitch Gorekin, a soldier of the Czar!” -Peter’s father would say. “A soldier against the people, -a soldier to bind our chains the tighter! Oh, Peter Petrovitch! -The day will come when your eye will see and understand!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Which was a surprising thing for Peter’s father to say, -for Peter could see well enough with his eyes, except when -the smoke from the fire-pit blew down the stone chimney -and got into his eyes while he was reading from the almanac -and learning new words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father was most anxious for Peter to learn to -read as well as the priest—yes, even as well as Michael -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff, the Colonel Governor. Peter -could have made many kopecks in the evenings, helping -to skin sheep for the butcher, but Peter’s father insisted -upon lessons with the almanac by the fire.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The labor of a man’s hands can be forced to do the -will of a master,” his father would say gravely, “but the -labor of a man’s head is his own, and no man can control -it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter could not understand that, because it was impossible -to drive pegs with one’s head—it could only be -done with hands and the hammer. And his father worked -with his hands, too, and never did a thing with his head, -or so Peter supposed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was not long after the column of unfortunates and -Cossacks had disappeared into the <i>taiga</i> that Peter saw -two black spots rise on the little hill across the Ingoda -River, and drop again out of sight.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ee-yah!” cried Peter joyfully. “The mail comes!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>His father lifted his head and looked up from his -stitching-frame to listen.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I hear nothing but the music of the samovar,” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They have crossed the bend to the river,” insisted -Peter. “I heard the bells and I saw the sledges! The -horses are coming fast!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Both sat still and listened, with only the snapping of -the fire and the song of the samovar in their ears. -Though they waited in silence, the sound of the bells did -not come to them down the chimney.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Watch the road,” said his father, and returned to his -stitching. Peter put his eye to the hole in the frost and -watched the street up beyond the post-house. But he -saw only an occasional Buriat, or a Cossack striding -along, with now and then a Tartar hunter coming in -from the hills with raw fur thrown over his shoulders, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>soldiers hurrying down from the prison above the settlement.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then, the bells! The first faint jingle came to Peter’s -ears, and at the same time he saw the galloping horses -of the leading sledge come up into the road from the river -hollow, running free for the post-house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Now!” cried Peter. “The post is here! With the -new almanacs! Please! Give me the kopecks! And -may I run to see if the new almanac has come for -sure?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father stopped work and filled his glass from -the samovar, threw on the fire a fresh chunk of wood and -dug some kopecks from his pocket.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Go, little son, but dress warmly—it is too cold outside -for a Tartar.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter shoved his rag-bound feet into pink felt boots, -whirled his long muffler about his neck and got into his -gray coat. Pulling his cap over his head and ears, he -took the kopecks from his father and flew out through the -door in a cloud of white steam made by the warm air -from inside the hut as it escaped into the frigid atmosphere -outside.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Already the sledges had arrived in front of the post-house. -The street was filled with people and there was -a great to-do and gabbling. Peter could see the Cossack -guards who had come with the sledges dismounting -from their horses. The half-frozen drivers of the sledges -were rolling stiffly out of their blankets, to clump through -the icicle-fringed door of the post-house for their hot -bowls of <i>borsht</i> and their drams of vodka.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter ran up to the crowd surrounding the sledges and -breathlessly pushed in between the legs of the soldiers -and onlookers. Surely, he thought, this month the almanacs -must have come! Twice before he had been disappointed -by the monthly mail and now he was shaking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>with eagerness. He wanted to cry out at once to those -about the sledges, “Has the new almanac come?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But there were no mail sacks on the first sledge. Instead -it had five travelers—an old woman, an officer who -was an aide of the Colonel Governor, two fur-buyers, and -a little girl—a pretty little girl, who was about the same -age as Peter. She had pulled back her beautiful cap of -ermine, and Peter could see the pink of her cheeks, her -laughing blue eyes and the scarlet silk lining of her coat -of sables where she had turned the collar away from her -chin. She was standing up in the sledge and looking -over the heads of the crowd and chattering with her old -nurse in delight at having arrived back at her home.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stared at the little girl. He knew who she was—Katerin -Stephanovna Kirsakoff, daughter of the Colonel -Governor. Peter had seen her many times driving through -the settlement with her Cossack outriders guarding her. -He knew she was kind to the poor people and to the unfortunates. -On Butter Weeks she always threw silver -kopecks from her carriage to the crowds at the fair. It -was said that she knew even the Czar himself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter thought Katerin was as beautiful as a picture in -a holy icon. He almost forgot about his beloved almanacs -as he stood and gazed at the beauty of Katerin. -Her furs were so rich and gorgeous, her skin was so clear -and rosy, her eyes were so sparkling bright. She had -plenty of good things to eat, he was sure—and the cold -did not hurt her, the guards of Cossacks protected her -from the gaunt tigers in the hills, the officers bowed to -her, the soldiers worshiped her, and she lived in the great -and grand house of her father, the Colonel Governor, Michael -Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Governor comes!” rose the warning cry from -those on the outer fringes of the throng about the sledges. -The soldiers at once began to drive the people back from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>the sledge in which Katerin was standing to clear the way -for the droshky of the Colonel Governor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was inside the ring of people about the sledge. -He was pushed away roughly. His heart sank, for he -felt that he was to be cheated out of the news for which -he had run to the post-house—news about the almanacs. -He could restrain his eagerness no longer, and fearing -that he would be left in doubt about the almanacs if the -soldiers hustled him up the street with the other people, he -ran from a soldier in toward the sledge, and making an -obeisance to Excellence, raised his arms and cried out -to Katerin, “Did your Excellence bring the almanacs of -the new year?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Katerin did not hear him. She was standing up -and clapping her hands as she saw her father’s droshky -come whirling down the street toward her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The officer in the sledge got out of the robes wound -round him, and to the ground. He commanded the -soldiers to drive the people away farther so the Colonel -Governor might not be delayed in getting to his daughter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter turned to run from this officer, but slipped and -fell. And before he could regain his footing on the hard -and slippery snow, the officer came hurrying from the -sledge and tripped and fell over the boy—fell flat in the -road before the post-house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Fool!” cried the officer, glaring at Peter. “Get -away with you! You dare address Excellence, and now -you are in my road!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stood up. The officer struck the boy in the -face, and Peter fell again, almost stunned by the blow. -He saw the officer’s boots stride away and recognized -them as boots which he and his father had made. There -was a forest of boots in all directions, and the sound of -voices reached Peter’s ears in a confused medley.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was ashamed. The blood was flowing from his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>nose and making a mess on his chin and muffler. The -tears which came into his eyes from the pain were freezing -on his cheeks and his eyelids were freezing together, making -a film through which he could see but dimly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The crowd had drawn away from the sledge now, leaving -Peter lying in the dirty snow. Such a sight to make -of himself, he thought, in view of Katerin! And how -angry she would be to see that he had gotten in the way -of the officer and had made him fall down like a clumsy -bear.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter heard the voice of his father calling to him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Little son! Get up quickly and run! The Governor -comes! Do not let the Excellence see you there!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Peter could not move quickly for his arms and -legs seemed strangely stiff and numb and helpless. His -father ran out into the open space just as Governor Kirsakoff -got out of his carriage to hasten to his little daughter -in the sledge. He was a tall man, ruddy of face, with -white teeth showing in a smile under black mustaches. -He wore a high cap of sable with a badge of the Czar upon -it. His longskirted coat of black was lined with fur -which stuck out in fringes at the edges, and he wore a -belt with silver doubleheaded eagles at the buckle. A -scarlet strap depended from one shoulder and crossed his -breast, and he wore a saber at his side—a saber with -a gold hilt, bearing upon it the initials of his Emperor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Governor Kirsakoff held out his arms toward his daughter -as he approached the sledge. The officer who struck -Peter was beside the Governor, with watchful eyes for -the safety of his chief and the little girl.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father lifted him to his feet, and Peter brushed -the icy film from his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Get away, you and that boy!” the officer growled -as the Governor strode swiftly to the sledge.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>“The boy meant no harm, Excellence,” said Peter’s -father, pulling off his cap and making a deep bow, as he -tried to push Peter on before him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who is this here?” demanded the Governor, catching -sight of Peter and his father, and seeing that the boy’s -face was bleeding. Governor Kirsakoff’s smile vanished, -and he scowled angrily, sensing something in the nature of -a calamity in the presence of his daughter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Excellence, this boy yelled at Katerin Stephanovna,” -explained the officer. “And he tripped my feet when I -came down from the sledge.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father swept his cap to the ground in an abject -bow.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Pardon, Excellence—I will take the boy away.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What now!” exclaimed Kirsakoff, with a close look -at the bootmaker. “Is this Gorekin? Is this what I -put you into the free gang for? to be under the feet of -your Governor?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s father bowed once more.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, Excellence, I am Peter Pavlovitch Gorekin, the -bootmaker.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you should be at your boots and not under my -feet!” raged Kirsakoff. “Do I give you the liberty of -the settlement to have you in the way with a bloody-nosed -youngster when my little daughter comes home?” The -Governor turned wrathfully to the commander of the -Cossack guard about the sledges. “Take this Gorekin -away to the prison!” he commanded.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Excellence, my son!” cried Peter’s father, stricken -to his soul by the disaster in the Governor’s order. “Oh, -Excellence, I beg—if I go to the prison, what is to become -of my son?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You should have prized your liberty and kept your -son out of the way,” said the Governor. “You think -nothing of ruining the happiness of my little daughter! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>So your son must learn his place.——Take them both to -the prison!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Kirsakoff turned away and hurried to the sledge.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What has happened to the poor people?” asked -Katerin, her face troubled as she watched Peter and his -father. She saw that the boy had been hurt and was -crying, and that the soldiers now menaced them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do not look at them, little daughter,” said Kirsakoff. -“They have disobeyed the rules. Was it cold coming -from Irkutsk? And did you bring me many kisses?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Governor lifted her out of the sledge and smothered -her in his arms. At this moment a Cossack interposed -himself between the bootmaker and the Governor, and two -soldiers closed in on Peter and his father, their bayonets -fixed upon their rifles.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Gorekin held up his hand in a plea to speak once more -to the Governor. The bootmaker had dropped his cap, -his face showed the agony of his despair, and the tears -streamed down his face. His mouth was open and his -lips trembled with the chagrin and horror of what had -befallen him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Excellence! I submit!” he pleaded. “But by the -mercy of God, condemn not my son to the prison -too!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>One of the Cossacks pushed him back violently so that -he spun round and staggered blindly in an effort to keep -his footing on the slippery snow. Then he turned with a -cry and thrust the Cossack aside, to run after the Governor, -hands stretched out in supplication.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Mercy for my son!” he called after Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A Cossack’s saber flashed, and Gorekin received its point -in the back—once, twice—and with a scream, fell writhing -on the snow-packed street before the post-house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Kirsakoff ran with little Katerin in his arms toward the -near-by droshky which was awaiting them. The crowd -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>closed in at once about the stricken bootmaker and his -son.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Little Peter fell to his knees beside his father, who had -been rudely rolled upon his back by the Cossack with the -saber. This Cossack searched hastily through the -pockets of the greatcoat of Gorekin. Peter, screaming in -terror, supposed that all this was being done to help his -father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Cossack found the curved leather-knife of Gorekin -in a pocket of the dying man’s coat, and flung the knife -upon the ground. “He held this knife in his hand!” -cried the Cossack. “It is the knife with which he would -have killed the Governor!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter could not realize yet the disaster which had come -to him and his father. He knew only that the one human -being who loved him, and whom he loved above everything -in the world, was hurt and bleeding. The slowly reddening -snow beside his father gave the boy a vague idea of -a wound which might in time be cured.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And it might not be real at all, this tragic morning, -but a dream. Peter saw about him the black circle of -boots like the trees of a forest; he saw the print of nails -in the hard snow; he noted a small round stone close by -his father’s head—the world appeared to be full of -trifling things, yet suddenly all trifles were invested with -terror. He prayed even as he screamed, that he might -wake to find his father reading from the new almanac -beside the fire in their little hut.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Little father! Little father!” he cried in his agony.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The bootmaker coughed harshly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He tried to kill the Governor,” said a voice. “There -lies the knife—and I ran him through with my saber.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter recognized the voice as that of the Cossack who -had struck down his father.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>“Little son—” gasped Gorekin, his dimming eyes on -Peter, and his hand moving slowly toward the boy.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thou whom I love!” cried Peter, “come quickly for -the man who has medicine and can cure you! Come to the -watch-fixer who has the charms and the herbs!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God’s blessing on you—I go—to meet—the—dead!” -whispered Gorekin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are not to die!” cried Peter, and flung himself -down upon his father and kissed him. Then he sat back -on his heels, moaning wildly as he saw his father’s face -graying to the color of the trampled snow.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall kill Kirsakoff!” Peter shouted. “I shall kill—the -Governor——!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Pray!” said his father weakly. “Pray to God for—power -and—” but he could say no more, and making -an effort to cross himself with both hands he died, staring -up into the leaden sky.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He is dead,” said a voice. “Take the boy to the -prison. It is the order of the Governor.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Peter, sobbing and kicking out against the soldiers -who grasped him and dragged him away, left his father -lying in the snow before the post-house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The soldiers dragged Peter up the Sofistkaya. His -eyes clung to the mail bags being carried into the post-house, -and though he was crying bitterly, he wondered -if the almanacs had come from Moscow after all.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Next he knew he found himself in the sandy snow of the -Sofistkaya, passing his own little hut, and saw the white -smoke rising from the crude stone chimney. He thought -of the samovar inside singing on a shelf, of the warmth -and comfort that he would never know again, of his beloved -father who somehow, by some terrible fate which -had descended upon him out of the skies, was gone forever -from the bench and the stitching-frame.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The two soldiers drove Peter on and in time they went -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>over the wooden bridge across the frozen Ingoda, and up -a hill. The tears on his face and frozen in his lids gave -him great pain from cold. But he brushed his eyes clear -of the ice particles and looked ahead. Before him were -the yellow upright logs of the great prison stockade—and -the great gate waiting to receive him into the Gethsemane -of the Valley of Despair.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span> - <h2 class='c015'>I<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>TWENTY YEARS AFTER</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>KATERIN was awake before dawn. She lay still, -listening in the dark for sounds of conflict in the -city. For months she had been accustomed to -the rattle of rifle-fire through day and night, and now she -found it hard to realize that the looting and burning had -ceased.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The windows of Katerin’s room were hung with heavy -blankets to conceal the candlelight by night, even though -in the winter the glass of the panes was always nearly -covered with heavy frost. She had no way of knowing -how near it was to dawn, or if the day had come.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin Stephanovna Kirsakoff—that was her full -name. And she was hiding in an old log house with her -father, who had been retired from the army of the Czar -with the rank of general. And her father was Michael -Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff, once Governor in the Valley of -Despair, as it was known in the exile days before the revolution. -And the log house was in Chita, where Kirsakoff -had ruled his Cossacks, but Kirsakoff and his daughter -were now hiding from the Cossacks.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin rose from her bed, and guided by the dim, -shaded flame burning before the icon in the corner of the -room, she held out her arms to the image of the Virgin -Mother, and whispered, “Save us, Mother of God, again -this day, from those who beset us, and bring to us help -from our enemies in our time of danger!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She continued to whisper her prayers while she dressed -in the dark. Then she went to one of the windows and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>pulled aside the blanket. She scraped a tiny hole in the -frost so that she might look down into the courtyard, to -the end of the street and out over the plains which -stretched away from the city toward the border of Manchuria, -many versts away. In that direction lay safety, -but Katerin knew that she could not get out of the city, -much less cross those frozen plains.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The subdued light of morning coming in through the -white frost on the panes revealed her as a woman of medium -height, of figure slender and supple, and clad in a -trailing velvet house-dress of wine-red. Thrown over her -shoulders, and partly covering the faded velvet of the -dress, was a sleeveless coat of sable. She had the oval, -high-bred face of the untitled nobility of Russia. The -Kirsakoffs were one of the old boyar families who had always -served their emperors as officers and administrators -in the empire which spanned half the world.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin had inherited all the best qualities of her race -and her class. As the daughter of General Kirsakoff she -had grown up like an Imperial princess. Educated by -tutors from Paris and Petersburg, she had also learned to -ride like a Cossack. And as her mother had died when -Katerin was a small girl, she had the poise of a woman, -who, though still young, had presided over her father’s -table in the Governor’s palace—the Government house. -So all her life she had been accustomed to a deference -which was akin to that granted to royalty.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Now Katerin and her father were fugitives. The fighting -between the various factions in Chita was over; the -Cossacks were in control of the city—and controlling the -Cossacks was a Mongol chieftain who had set himself up as -the ruling prince and ruled with firing squads.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Months of terrorism in the city had made Katerin -pale and wan. Her blue eyes were sad and deep set, and -she had an expression of melancholy. The pallor of her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>cheeks was accentuated by her black hair, which was -drawn down over her ears tightly. Her long neck, with -its delicate lines, suggested pearls. She had pearls, but -she did not dare wear them in these days. They were -buried in the courtyard of the old log house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When she walked it was with a slow and languorous -grace. The carriage of her beautiful head was reminiscent -of the portraits of the members of the Imperial family -which had once hung on the walls of the home from -which she had fled. It was now only a charred ruin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin remained at the window, peering out with -anxious eyes. A trio of Cossack soldiers were huddled -about the glowing remnants of their night-fire in the -street. These were men in the army of the Ataman Zorogoff, -the half-Mongol, half-Cossack <i>hetman</i> who ruled the -Valley of Despair. The Ataman, in spite of his pretensions -to leadership, was only a brigand with an army of -adventurers and conscripts at his back, bent upon enriching -himself by levying upon the fortunes of all the rich -people in his territory. And he collected the tribute which -he exacted from them under threats of death—and by -executions.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin watched the gray light of the new day grow -over the frozen and desolate landscape. A thin mantle of -snow covered the plains below the hills which walled in the -valley on three sides. There were a few rude peasants’ -huts out on the flats, with white smoke rising up from -stone chimneys. A long column of staggering telegraph -poles ran off beyond a spur of hill and marked the line of -the railroad in this direction.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She saw a small band of Cossacks come galloping in -toward the city. They were racing to the warmth of the -barracks after a night spent on patrol. These men belonged -to the outer cordon—the chain of mounted soldiers -which Zorogoff kept about the city to make sure no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>one entered without his knowledge, and to insure that none -escaped. Before he had organized his power, some of the -wealthy citizens had escaped by the railroad, but now the -Ataman had his troops on guard at the railroad station. -And his spies were busy in the city. It was impossible to -leave if he did not grant permission. The Kirsakoffs did -not dare to ask for it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The room in which Katerin stood looking out of the -window was filled with a queer mingling of rich furnishings -and crudely built peasant household goods. The -floor was covered with a thick blue carpet, thrown down -hastily after being smuggled by night from her old home -before the building had been burned. Faithful servants -had brought it, but there had been no attempt to put it -down properly—it was merely tucked in at the sides of -the room in order to make the fabric fit.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The walls were covered with an ancient and faded -paper. The ceiling had once been covered with colorful -decorations, but now the plaster was cracked, and leaks in -the roof had turned the paint of the figures into grotesque -patterns.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The bed was hidden by a Chinese screen of carved -leather, also saved from the old home before the looters -had plied the torch; a great samovar of chased and filigreed -silver stood upon an old wooden bench brought -from the kitchen on the floor below; a table of rough -boards was covered by purple silk, and on it stood an -ornate candelabra of marble and bronze with the arms -sadly bent, so that the candles could not stand erect; -blankets of fur covered chairs rudely cut with an ax and -fashioned with a primitive hammer; and a monstrous -black stove built into the wall reached to the ceiling.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin pulled the blanket away from the window and -made it fast to the casing with a string. Just then a -gentle tapping came at one of the doors of the room. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>She laughed cheerily and opened the door. Her father -stood before her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>General Kirsakoff was tall, but thin and bent with age. -His face was gaunt, but the bones of his cheeks were -partly concealed by a white beard which was indifferently -trimmed to a point at the chin. His gray eyes were dim, -yet held some of their old fire and the look of an eagle—stern -eyes looking out from under gray brows and a forehead -furrowed by worries and his years. His head was -covered with sparse white hair, which had a tendency to -stand straight up, and waved when he moved his head -quickly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, the cold is like a wolf!” said Michael, his hands -clasped together as he shivered. “Has not Wassili come -up with the fire? My teeth ache from the cold!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin gave him a look of solicitude, and then took -his hands and rubbed them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I thought you would sleep longer, so I did not call for -Wassili. And here you are dressed—but you should -have a blanket over your shoulders.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is only my feet and my hands—and my teeth—that -are cold. Let us have the samovar singing, and -something hot. My poor old bones cannot stand the cold -so well as they did. And this old house is damp—we -must have a good fire to-day, happen what will.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He looked at Katerin closely, searching her face for -signs of anxiety, but her whole manner had changed at -his entrance to the room, and now as she went to the door -to the hallway to call down to Wassili, the servant, she -hummed a tune. She knew her father well enough to -understand that his spirit must be kept up. He had been -giving way recently to long spells of despondency.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael was wearing one of his old uniforms of a general. -It had been Katerin’s idea that he resume the discarded -garments of authority, for she knew that he gained -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>some comfort from it and that it helped him to forget the -dark days which had come upon them. But Michael -was only a shadow of his former self. His knees bent -under him, his attenuated form did not fill the tunic, his -hands were white and withered. They shook, as did his -head at times, with the palsy of his age and feebleness. -Yet the old general was still a striking figure in the gray -tunic with the white cross hanging from its collar, the -wreath and sword of another order of the Czar on his -breast. A leather strap crossed his shoulder and came -down athwart the front of the tunic. The heavy gold -straps on his shoulders marked his rank. His trousers -were blue with a pair of narrow gold stripes at the sides, -and the belt about him had a silver buckle in front with -the double-headed eagle of the Romanoffs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So this is another day, little daughter,” said Michael, -as he sat down upon a bench and stroked his beard. “Another -day of waiting—waiting till these devils have lost -their power to the army of the Emperor.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Another day of hope, my father,” said Katerin. -“What! Does not the day at the windows give you -courage. Perhaps the Americans will come up from -Vladivostok and save us. It is then that Zorogoff will -have to change his ways.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Poof! The Americans will not come,” said Michael -wearily. “Do not put your hopes in the foreigners. -Nothing will happen from that direction which will be -of any good to us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Something is bound to happen that is good for us,” -insisted Katerin. “The forces of evil cannot always be -in power. Have we not sent word to our friends who -escaped? Will they not get our letters? Will they not -do something to get us away from the city? All we must -do is to have patience and be brave. God is with the -brave.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>“Yes, the young are brave,” said Michael. “And it is -you who are brave, my daughter. I am too old to have -much heart left. But there are two things against us—one -of them is our accursed money. I wish we had never -saved it, but for that you will need it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what is the other thing that is against us?” asked -Katerin with surprised eyes, as she turned to the door to -look below for Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Your beauty, Katerin Stephanovna,” said her father. -“How many times in the old days have I thanked the holy -saints for your beauty! Yet I mourn now that you are -so beautiful, for it may be your curse. I have had a -dream of evil omen, yet I cannot remember it—though -it left me downcast. If these devils of Zorogoff dare lay -a hand upon you——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin ran to him and kissed him hastily.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, nonsense! I will not be so beautiful, and you will -not be so depressed as soon as the samovar sings and you -have had your tea. You make much of little things—and -you must not keep dreams in your mind. Now! -Here comes Wassili with the fire for the samovar!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili came in, a whiskered <i>moujik</i> in clumsy boots, -bearing fire on a shovel. Some of the burning coals he -put into the stove, and with the scattered remnants fired -the samovar and went below again for water.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is more dangerous to give the money than to keep -it,” went on Michael musingly. He seemed bent on studying -out the problems which confronted him, as if the -dream which he had mentioned had driven him into making -some decision.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If we could buy our way out of the city,” suggested -Katerin, “I would be willing to give it up to see you in -comfortable surroundings.” She was before a little mirror -on a table, combing out her hair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Once Zorogoff had the money, he would destroy us so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>there would be no witness against him—no claim against -him in future,” said Michael. “That is what happened -to Rioumines—he gave up his money willingly—and -then he was killed. So there is no safety for us in beggaring -ourselves. By the Holy Saints! I would rather -burn all the rubles than give them to Zorogoff—but even -then he would not believe that they had been destroyed, -and would kill us for refusing to surrender them. And -I would sooner die a beggar than have your fortune fall -into the hands of this Mongol!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come! Sit by the fire and warm yourself,” said -Katerin, pushing a bench toward the front of the stove, -which was now crackling merrily with the wood. “We -are safe enough here till the Americans come.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, the Americans will never come,” said Michael, as -he settled himself before the fire and held out his hands -to the heat. “We must use our wits and get away from -Chita—to Harbin or Vladivostok. Others have done it. -We might send Wassili to Harbin for help.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That would do no good. Our friends cannot come -back here to help us. If they did, they could not fight -Zorogoff’s army. We must keep up good hope for whatever -the future holds for us, and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>There came a hammering at the outer gate of the courtyard. -Katerin checked her words and stood immovable, -her eyes on her father in sudden fear of what the summons -below might mean. The noise outside stopped as abruptly -as it had begun, and then was resumed—insistent, compelling, -ruthless. It sounded like the thumping of rifle -butts against the planks of the gate. Whoever it was -that demanded admittance was not to be denied. There -was in the noise a peremptoriness which indicated that if -there happened to be any appreciable delay in opening the -gate, it would be smashed down without further ado.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is that?” asked Michael. “By the Holy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>Saints! The soldiers of the Ataman have come upon -us!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He sprang up and went to the window, where he put -his eye to the hole in the frost, and looked out. Katerin -pressed close to him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Soldiers at the gate!” whispered Michael, and as he -stood staring at his daughter, they heard Wassili shouting -in the hall below.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Master! Master!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin crossed herself and bowed her head in the direction -of the icon as she ran to the door and called down -to Wassili, asking what it was that he wanted.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The soldiers are outside—pounding to get in!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then let them in,” commanded Katerin. “We cannot -fight them.” She ran back across the room to the -window and looked down to the court—she could see -the tops of the tall Cossack caps over the upper edge of -the paling. There were at least a dozen of them, and -above them here and there was the glittering point of a -bayonet.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We are in God’s hands!” cried Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall know what fate holds for us now,” said her -father, drawing up toward the stove. “We have been in -doubt long enough. It was the smoke from our chimney -which drew them, without doubt.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They will want the money,” said Katerin. “It may -as well go to them—enough to stop their greed.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael went to her and put his hands upon her shoulders. -He looked into her face, tears in his own eyes. -“We will not give them the money,” he whispered. “Let -them kill me if they will. I doubt that they will dare to -do it—but my time is short at best. This is my dream! -But you must think of yourself and know that if they take -all we have, you will be helpless—a beggar in a land that -is beggared, to die of hunger or by your own hand. Make -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>no bargain with them between me and the money! I -command you! Do not give a ruble of it to keep me alive -a minute!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If you die, I shall not live,” said Katerin, and taking -his face between her hands, kissed him tenderly on the -forehead and threw her arms about his neck, dry-eyed in -her anguish.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I should like to reach the sky, but my arms are too -short,” said Michael, expressing his helplessness by the old -Russian proverb. “I think of having an army at my -back—I, an old man, weak and already looking into my -own grave. It is of you I think, Katerin Stephanovna! -I would sell my soul to save you—yet the money must -be kept if you are to live!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can hear the soldiers in the yard,” said Katerin. -“What can we do? We have a few rubles in the Chinese -casket—five thousand in fives and tens. They make a -fat bundle. We can give them up—and say they are all -we have.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do not be too ready to surrender the money,” said -Michael. “But that is what we shall do. If they demand -more——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hush! They are coming up the stairs. Come! -Quick! Sit here by the table! And take your saber! -Be bold with them, as befits your rank and your old place, -but remember that we cannot resist!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>As she talked, Katerin grabbed from a chest her father’s -saber and snapped it into the old general’s belt. Then -she pulled him to the table and sat him on a bench so -that he faced toward the fire. This was no more than -done when a man could be heard mounting the top of the -stairs, and presently the visitor looked in cautiously at the -open door.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The intruder was a Cossack officer. He wore a tall -cap of white, shaggy wool, thrust back on his head. A -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>lock of his black hair hung down athwart his forehead. -His eyes were black and small, his mouth heavily lipped, -his cheeks inclined to swartness from exposure, though -the cold of the morning had given his skin a ruddy glow. -He wore a long greatcoat with the cream-colored skin of -the sheep outside and the wool inside visible at the edge -in front and at the bottom of the skirt. On his shoulders -were tin stars—he was a captain in Zorogoff’s army. -From the skirt of his coat on one side hung the toe of a -heavy saber-scabbard.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The captain stepped into the room after a sharp glance -at Katerin and her father. Then he looked about the -room suspiciously, and having made sure that no others -were present, he bowed politely, at the same time clicking -the spurred heels of his black boots.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are Kirsakoff,” said the officer abruptly. “I -am Captain Shimilin, and I have come from the Ataman -Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael, his hand on the hilt of his saber, sitting erect, -turned his head and surveyed the Cossack coldly. Finally, -he said, “Captain, you are speaking to General -Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin shrugged his shoulders, and a smile lurked on -his lips. “You were once a general—but the Czar is -dead. I do not have to be told who you are, Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, you have heard of the Czar!” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin stared at her, and then took off his cap. He -seemed willing to ignore her irony, but his look conveyed -an appreciation of her beauty, and he allowed his eyes to -linger upon her. But there was no disrespect in his manner.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin met his steady gaze without any indication -that the Cossack captain’s scrutiny meant anything more -than the usual deference and adulation due her person and -position as in the old days. She made a pretty picture, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>standing beside her father—the superb carriage of her -head, the slashes of red velvet of her sleeves, the gray of -the sable coat and the swirl of the red trailing skirt about -her feet. She suggested a queenly consort at an audience -by royalty.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin stood as if waiting for something to happen. -In a short time two men came in with rifles. Their faces -were rotund, their noses short and flat, and they were -dark enough to be full-blood Mongols—Buriats, these -were, descendants of the men who had followed Genghis -Khan as his conquering hordes swept over Asia. They -were poorly dressed in ragged, old coats, with boots reinforced -with skins and furs wrapped about their tops. -But they wore the high caps of Cossacks, which made -them appear to be taller than they really were. This -pair appraised the contents of the room, and having -judged the value of its visible loot, turned their beadlike -eyes upon Katerin—eyes full of menace, eyes like the -eyes of wolves upon a quarry.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have you come with a message from the Ataman?” -asked Katerin, when she saw that the Cossack did not seem -to know how to proceed with his business. She wanted to -hold the situation in her own hands as well as she could, -and so far she felt that Shimilin had not shown himself -to be particularly dangerous. She did not intend to betray -to him that she and her father were in any way perturbed -by an informal call on the part of soldiers from -the Ataman Zorogoff. To show fear would be fatal and -only her wits could save her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Cossack did not reply at once, but strode across -the room, threw off his greatcoat, and sat down on a -bench opposite Michael. Shimilin seemed in no hurry, -but acted as if he wished to impress father and daughter -with his own importance as expressed in his uniform. He -wore a gray tunic with gold shoulder straps, a brace of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>pistols in his belt, a fine saber with a hilt of silver, and blue -riding breeches.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I bring a message from the Ataman,” he began, -elbows on knees, and leaning forward and staring at the -floor. “You know, of course, that the Ataman’s army -has been protecting the city from looters.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Beggars are always safe from robbers,” said Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin lifted his head and looked at the general in -surprise.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Beggars! I like a joke, Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is no joke being a beggar,” put in Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have millions of rubles,” said Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is easy to count the money in the pockets of other -people,” said Katerin. “We were robbed of all we had -long before the Ataman Zorogoff began to rule.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin’s face took on a sly look. “Is it that you do -not like the Ataman Zorogoff? Are you opposed to his -rule?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I suppose Zorogoff would give up his power if we said -we preferred another ruler,” retorted Katerin. “If you -came here to trick us into saying anything against Zorogoff, -it will not be said. And it takes little of your breath -to talk of millions of rubles. Does the Ataman expect us -to hand over to him a fortune which does not exist?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You talk like all the others,” said Shimilin wearily. -“Partridges are killed with silver bullets—and so are -robbers. An army cannot live on air. The Ataman -needs money.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Protection from bandits! What difference does it -make whether bandits and looters take our money, or Zorogoff?” -asked Michael sharply. “If we had the money—what -would it matter to us who got it if we lost it?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Ataman asks a loan,” said Shimilin. “His government -will repay you. Am I to tell the Ataman that -you regard him as a robber?”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>“We have but a few rubles,” said Katerin hastily, to -prevent her father from saying something which would -draw the wrath of the captain, for the old man was showing -his anger and was ready to defy Shimilin. “It is all -the money we have left.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How much?” asked Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Probably ten thousand rubles,” said Katerin. “I -have not counted it lately, but it is all we have to buy our -food. What shall we eat if you take it?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin smiled. “That is not my problem. You can -find more money, or borrow. But we know you have -plenty. Ten thousand rubles will not satisfy the Ataman. -I will take it, but only with the understanding that it is -mine—to intercede with the Ataman for you. You -might find it difficult to argue with his soldiers—in his -military prison.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin shrugged her shoulders. “True. If the Ataman -should want to send us to prison, we could not prevent -him. At least, he would have to feed us there.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And is that the way Zorogoff will protect us from -robbers?” demanded Michael. “If we have no more -money, we must go to prison, eh! And that is what -Zorogoff calls ruling, I presume. Hah!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin went behind the screen which shielded her bed -and returned with a large lacquered cabinet. She opened -it and took out several packets of rubles of the old Imperial -issue.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This is our fortune,” she said, with a gesture at the -casket, and turned away.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you expect the Ataman to believe that?” asked -Shimilin, as he stood up and looked into the casket.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I cannot do the Ataman’s thinking,” she retorted. -“I do not give it—you must take it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin got into his greatcoat, and leisurely stuffed -his pockets with the packets. When he had taken the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>last, he bowed to the glowering Michael in a show of politeness.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will do what I can with the Ataman in your behalf,” -he said. “But I doubt if I will be able to alter his intentions -toward you—and I am sure that we shall meet -again.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Shimilin made a gesture to his two soldiers, walked -through the door, and the trio clumped down the stairs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This means war with the Ataman,” said Michael, as -they heard the gate creak on its ancient hinges as their -visitors went into the street. “Before prison, we shall -take the poison together, my daughter.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall not die by our own hands till the last -minute,” said Katerin. “We must pray that the Americans -will come.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If they come at all it will be too late,” said Michael. -“We, who have conquered Asia, will be destroyed by Asia—we -shall be lost in a yellow flood. The Mongol rules -now.”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span> - <h2 class='c015'>II<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE INTELLIGENCE OFFICER</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>AN American army transport came lurching out -of the Japanese sea, and, following the lead of -a gray and gaunt destroyer which had come out -to meet the troopship, she swung slowly into the Gulf of -Peter the Great.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The cliffs of the shore line of Siberia looked bleak and -wind-whipped, desolate and snow-slashed. The first blasts -of winter had swept the land. Brown and dull it looked, -sullenly waiting the onset of northern winds with smothering -cold from the Pole.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The transport seemed reluctant to approach the shore -of such an inhospitable land. Her gray war-painted -sides were festooned with sea-grime from the Pacific. Her -pace was slow, as if she mistrusted the hills overhanging -Vladivostok. She was all for caution, though the tumbling -destroyer drove ahead of her like a terrier leading -the way for a suspicious mastiff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Among the officers crowding the upper deck of the -transport was a young man wearing single silver bars on -the shoulders of his khaki tunic. On his collar were little -circles of bronze enclosing eagles fashioned from the same -metal. To those who understood such things, they proclaimed -him to be a First Lieutenant of the Intelligence -Division of the General Staff of the United States Army.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lieutenant Gordon was a sturdy chap, of good height. -His cleanly shaven face was inclined to ruddiness. His -chin was generously molded, his jaw had a squat squareness -to it which gave the lower half of his face a suggestion -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>of grimness, but the good-natured twinkle of his blue eyes -belied this grimness. Still, he was reserved—perhaps -too serious for one of his age, too moodily self-contained.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He had kept to himself a good deal on the passage of -the transport from San Francisco. While others of his -age had been romping the decks and singing and making -gay, he had clung to his cabin. He said that he was -studying Russian.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When the transport began to draw near to the coast -of Siberia, Gordon had stood nearly all day alone in a -sheltered nook at the head of the upper deck where the -shrouds came down to the rail and prevented more than -one person’s getting into the corner. He seemed always -to gravitate to spots in the ship which would insure his -being alone or cut off in some way from the crowds. Then -he would stand motionless, gazing out over the bows to the -horizon ahead, busy with his own thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Yet for all his aloofness, Lieutenant Gordon was an -affable chap. And he was keenly interested in all things -Russian—showed a most laudable ambition to learn all -he possibly could about the country in which he was to -serve. There was a captain at Gordon’s table who had a -cabin full of books about Russia, and Gordon listened most -attentively to the informal lectures by the well-read captain.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And there was a major who had been military attaché -in Petrograd. He spoke Russian well, and gave lessons -in the language to the other officers. Gordon attended -some of the lessons, but his progress in learning the language -was distressingly slow. Still, Gordon did extremely -well at times. One day the major had asked the -class to repeat a Russian sentence. Gordon was the only -one to repeat the words with anything approaching correctness.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Splendid!” exclaimed the major enthusiastically.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>“You are getting a good accent. That’s really excellent, -Mr. Gordon. And somehow you resemble Russians—if -it were not for your uniform, you might easily be taken -for a Russian.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The class laughed. Gordon reddened. When he was -asked to repeat another sentence in Russian, he rather -bungled it. And that day he quit the Russian class, saying -that he could learn faster alone with his grammar. -And he kept more to himself after that.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So no one thought it strange that Lieutenant Gordon -preferred to stand by himself at the head of the upper -deck as the transport was nosing into the harbor of -Vladivostok. He scanned the islands sliding past, and -he watched the boat which came out flying the white and -blue flag of the Czar’s navy—the old Cross of St. Andrew. -He watched the shattered hulks of the navy of the Second -Nicholas, lying in on the beach like the bones of dead sea -birds. And he saw the warships of Britain, of France, -of Japan, of the United States, all spick and span at -anchor below the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Many strange flags flew from the tops of buildings on -the terraced streets over the bay. The green spires of -churches glistened in the afternoon sun. Soon the gashes -running down to the water were seen to be streets with -people moving in them—carriages, motor cars, and -hurrying throngs of civilians and soldiers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>On the hills above the city was a queer fringe of flat -white piles, some of them sheeted with canvas. These -were vast stores of things gathered to the port from all -the world for the war against Germany—acres of goods -and metals, all idle and wasting because the throne of the -Romanoffs had toppled and the Czar himself was dead in a -well.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The transport moved up to a dock at the end of the -bay, past the city. Gordon stood in his nook, watching -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>Vladivostok pass in review before him, and listening to the -comments of the other officers who crowded the upper deck -for their first sight of this far port of a shattered -dynasty.</p> - -<p class='c009'>As the troopship warped in, Russians in belted blouses -and great boots stood on the dock and stared up at the -ship and its soldiers in khaki from a distant land. These -Russians loafed and gossiped and ate sunflower seeds. -Cossack soldiers in high woolly caps swaggered about with -sabers jingling at their sides. German prisoners of war -labored with heavy cases. These men were still clad in the -dirty finery of gaudy uniforms, sorry-looking specimens of -what had been once smart soldiers. Shaggy horses in -rude wagons, driven by peasant girls with shawls over -their heads and wearing men’s heavy boots, did the work -of strong men with sacks and bales, loading the carts. -The Russians could find nothing else to do but gossip.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Gordon watched the people on the dock with interest. -When the hawsers were fast to the pier, he left the deck -and went to his cabin. There, alone, he loaded his automatic -pistol. He filled extra magazines with the blunt-nosed -bullets, and distributed the magazines through his -pockets in such way that they would not be noticeable -through the fabric of his garments.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He looked at himself in the mirror on the bulkhead. -His face had increased its grimness, and the blue of his -eyes had taken on a steely sheen. He seemed to be angry -about something. But he forced a smile at himself—a -tight-lipped smile of satisfaction.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Speed is good for nothing but catching fleas,” he -whispered to his image in the glass.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Soon an orderly came to tell him that an automobile -waited on the dock to take all officers who had to report -direct to Headquarters to the building in the city where -the Commanding General and his staff were housed. Gordon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>followed the orderly, and stepping from the end of -the gangplank, saluted the land.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The car bumped away up the street with a group of -officers. Gordon was silent, while the others chattered. -The water-front streets were muddy and unpaved. -Squalid buildings with crude signs in Russian announced -that within many of the buildings might be had tea and -food and liquors. Pigs were loose in the streets, scratching -themselves amiably on house-corners. Old Russian -songs were being bawled from lusty throats of roisterers -inside the <i>kabaks</i>. Russians wandered about aimlessly, -staring at all the strange things which had come to -Siberia—the American army mules, the motor cycles -whizzing about among the pigs and wagons, and the honking -car with the party of American officers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Everybody seemed on holiday but the Chinese. They -trotted about with burdens on their backs, working like -ants, apparently unaware that freedom had come to -Russia and that no one need work. Military motors were -shooting about in all directions, dilapidated trolley cars -packed with humanity creaked over bad rails, droshkies -careened crazily among the burden-bearing Chinese coolies.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The car carrying Gordon rolled into the Svetlanskaya, -the main street of Vladivostok, and began to climb one of -the many hills. There was a great stream of confused -traffic, and mixed in it were strange men in uniforms—black -Annamites in French blue, yellow Japanese in buff, -bronzed Czechs in brown, Cossacks in natural gray; Canadians -in brown short coats, and Americans in snuff-colored -khaki. On them all were the musty odors and the -ancient dust of Asia.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The city was a place of swarming tangles of people—beggars -and princes, vagabonds and viceroys, generals -and stragglers, friends and enemies, conquerors and conquered, -all whirling about in mad antics and hurrying as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>if they expected the end of the world to come with sundown. -Refugees from the interior carrying their few -poor possessions in old blankets mingled with nobles of -the old régime who still tried to keep up a semblance of -importance; poor women in rags with frightened red eyes -and crying children clustered about them stood on the -curbs and stared at foreign-looking ladies lolling in carriages -and clad in suspicious grandeur. The human parasites -had gathered from all the ports of the Orient to this -land where people were starving in the streets. Adventurers -seeking command and harpies hoping to get their -fingers into stolen jewels, pushed aside blind beggars to get -into the cafés.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The crisp cold air of winter was seething with joy. -There were flags everywhere. The restaurants were -crowded with people who lacked lodgings, gabbling, whispering, -gaming. But there was something sinister lurking -in the background of the mad show, glimpsed now and then -in a squad of soldiers with bayonets fixed to their rifles -and marching from some mysterious place to some other -mysterious place with an attitude of deadly earnestness. -The temper of the people was fickle. They were ready to -rally to any leader who presented some dramatic ideal, or -to submit to any ruler who was strong enough to subdue -them by force of arms. But just now they were occupied -with having a grand celebration and believed that life from -now on would be nothing but a carnival.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The car carrying Gordon and the other officers arrived -at the big building overlooking the bay where flew the flag -of the United States—American Staff Headquarters. -Gordon found the Chief of Intelligence in a large room -filled with map-makers, translators, clerks, officers, busy -orderlies. But Gordon did not approach the desk of his -chief at once. The grave-faced colonel with spectacles -was busy just then, and Gordon lingered among the office -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>workers. There was a great buzzing of conversation and -a mighty clacking of typewriters.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Gordon was keenly interested in everything. The walls -were covered with maps of the Russian empire stuck full -of tacks with colored heads—the fever spots of a sick -nation, showing where the disease was most rampant and -dangerous. And Gordon listened to the talk of the -Russians, who discussed the Americans frankly, knowing -that they were not understood by the strangers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In time Gordon presented himself at the colonel’s desk, -saluted, gave his name, and turned over certain papers. -The colonel looked him over casually, not especially interested -that another Intelligence officer had been added to -his staff by Washington.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You’ll want to look about the city, Mr. Gordon, after -your month in a transport. You’ll be quartered in this -building. Report to me again in the morning,” said the -colonel.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So Lieutenant Gordon spent the afternoon in the teeming -cafés along the Svetlanskaya. He mingled with the -various factions scattered through the city—monarchists, -anarchists, nihilists out of a job, German secret -agents, and the adherents of new men and new parties -intriguing for power with the next throw of the national -dice. It was all a great orgy of talking and whispering -and singing. Gordon could make neither head nor tail of -it. But he watched the throngs closely. Every man got -a scrutiny from the American lieutenant. An observer -might think that Gordon was looking for some particular -person in all that motley throng.</p> - -<p class='c009'>At the officers’ mess that evening Gordon overheard a -conversation in which the necessity of sending an Intelligence -officer to Irkutsk was discussed. And Gordon was -on the alert at once. He said nothing, but he watched -the Chief of Intelligence up at the head of the table and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>followed him from the mess-room to his desk upstairs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Sir,” began Gordon, “I understand that an officer will -be sent up toward Lake Baikal—Irkutsk—to look into -the situation there.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The colonel looked at Gordon wonderingly. It struck -the chief that this new arrival was dipping into things -rather hastily. There was enough to learn around Vladivostok -for a stranger, thought the colonel.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, it has been mentioned,” said the colonel. “We -need an observing officer up there. That country is controlled -now by Zorogoff, the Ataman of the Cossacks, and -we don’t know any too much about Zorogoff. What do -you know about him?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Nothing, sir. But I would like to—see the country.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You ought to have a little more time to get acquainted -with the situation here before you go into the interior. -The Baikal region is a long way from here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, sir,” said Gordon. “I don’t want to appear too -confident of my own abilities, but it strikes me, sir, that -the back country explains what is going on here, rather -than what you see here explains the country.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The colonel smiled. “You like to travel, young man.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, sir. Frankly, I’d like to see all I can.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have you been assigned to any duty here yet?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, sir. Perhaps when I got back from the Baikal -region I’d be more valuable—have a better understanding -of the situation as a whole.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I’ll think it over,” said the colonel, and reached for -his ringing telephone.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And the colonel evidently did think it over, for within -an hour Lieutenant Gordon was handed his orders to leave -at once for Irkutsk in a train carrying Czech soldiers and -supplies toward Omsk and that place known so vaguely as -“the front.” And an American soldier who was a native -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>of Russia was detailed to accompany Lieutenant Gordon -as an orderly and interpreter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Gordon did not delay. He went at once to the Trans-Siberian -station to find his train, leaving the Russian orderly -to bring on baggage and bedding-roll. Gordon -found the station filled to overflowing with refugees from -the interior—sick and well, women and children, lame -and blind, hungry and unclean. They lay on the floors, -cooking and eating, begging and filching food wherever -they could find it. They were like a dirty froth thrown -up on a beach after a tidal wave, a pitiful human wreckage -fighting for existence after having survived a typhoon -which had destroyed a nation. The sights, the smells, the -misery were appalling. It almost made Gordon ill. He -longed to find some one person who could be blamed for it. -A wrath began to grow in his soul.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He stumbled down the railroad yards in the growing -dark, seeking the train among a labyrinth of box cars. -Though he was already in his furs and his sheepskin-lined -coat against the wolf of winter which was howling across -the landscape, the wind from the bay chilled him to his -bones.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Candles gleaming through the windows of an old fourth-class -car drew him. He found soldiers within—Czechs -cooking their supper of stew over crude heating stoves -amid clouds of yellow sulphurous smoke from the awful -Manchurian coal.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The interior of the car was so jammed with men that -there seemed to be no more room. The shelves were full of -soldiers, and the floor was littered with coal and wood -and boxes and bundles. It was like a pen on wheels, that -car. It was filthy, battered, and broken. But it belonged -to the train leaving for the front, and Gordon was -content.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Presently the orderly came, laden with baggage. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>explained to the Czechs that the American officer was to -travel in that car by order of the Czech commandant. -The soldiers smiled and provided two shelves. And in a -few minutes the train began to grind slowly away from -Vladivostok, to carry Lieutenant Gordon and his orderly -some two thousand versts away.</p> - -<p class='c009'>They reached Nikolsk-Ussurisk the next morning. An -American captain came to the train. His orderly had -been sent back to Vladivostok, ill. The captain was without -an interpreter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Look here,” said Gordon. “You can’t go on here -without an interpreter—and I’ll not need mine till I get -to Irkutsk. You’ll have a new interpreter sent up to -you by that time. I’m all right on this train—for a -week or two. Send mine along to me when I telegraph -where I am.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Well, that’s an idea!” said the captain. “A most -pious idea! Perhaps I can send your man along after -you in a couple of days. He can catch this train all right, -on a passenger train.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hold my man, sir, till you hear from me,” said Gordon. -“I’ll wire when I need him. There is a Czech in -this car who speaks fairly good English. I’ll get on all -right.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Now that’s mighty decent of you,” said the captain. -“What’s your name—so there won’t be any hitch about -sending your man on?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Gordon, sir—Peter Gordon.” And the train rumbled -on, leaving behind the native of Russia who had been -detailed as interpreter for Lieutenant Peter Gordon.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The railroad followed old caravan trails into Manchuria -and Mongolia, over plains and up through mountains -in which yellow <i>bonzes</i> hid themselves from the world -on sky-kissing peaks in secret monasteries. Then, winding -down through the passes, the train traversed the millet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>plains where the conquerors of ancient Tartary and -China recruited their hordes of warriors—and on into -the wilderness of Siberia where wolves still ruled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The land was now held in the grip of a desperate cold. -The wheels whined as they ground along on frosty rails. -Bridges lay in ruins across rivers, replaced by shaky -structures of logs that swayed and groaned under the -weight of the train.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And at every station Peter found mobs of refugees fighting -to get aboard anything that moved. Some were trying -to get to Vladivostok, some wanted to go in the opposite -direction to Perm, or Ufa, or Samara. They -wanted to get anywhere but where they were. Long -strings of box cars in the sidings were packed with men, -women, and children, ragged, filthy, hungry, dying, dead. -Those alive threshed grain by hand from the rotting piles -in the fields, or fished in the rivers with wooden spears. -And there were trains coming back from the front filled -with human derelicts—in cattle cars festooned with crimson -icicles!</p> - -<p class='c009'>Yet the people seemed patient in their misery. They -waited patiently while first one faction rose to power only -to fall again. And usurpers gambled for power with -bands of brigands which their leaders called armies. The -people had destroyed one government. Now they waited -for some one to create another for them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lieutenant Peter Gordon watched day by day in silence. -At times, his eyes flamed with anger. But he smiled sometimes, -too, when he mixed with peasants in the station -restaurants and ate cabbage soup with a wooden spoon. -For the peasants had many queer and amusing things to -say about the <i>Americansky</i> after they had assured themselves -that the stranger could speak but a few words of -Russian, and understood less. But Peter understood -enough to know that these peasants were not at all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>friendly to officers, no matter what country they came -from. They wanted no aristocrats in Siberia, American -or otherwise. They were going to kill all the aristocrats, -and be free men. They were not going to leave all the -land to aristocrats, and pay taxes so that their rulers -could make slaves of them. Not any more.</p> - -<p class='c009'>One evening Peter strolled up toward the engine while -the train was stopped in a station.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“When will we get to Chita?” he asked the engineer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Are you sure we won’t go through Chita sometime -to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, not to-night. Not till long after daylight.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” said Peter, and walked away. The -Russian engineer stared after the American officer in bewildered -surprise, for the American officer was speaking -in perfect Russian. There was something queer about it, -the engineer knew—but, of course, Americans are educated -and speak all languages. Still, that was the first -one the engineer had ever heard who could speak the Czar’s -Russian—as good as the conductor.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span> - <h2 class='c015'>III<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE FIRING SQUAD</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>AFTER Captain Shimilin’s demand for a million -rubles for the Ataman Zorogoff, Katerin and -her father knew that they were no longer safe. -They had a fortune hidden in the old log house. It consisted -of packets of Imperial rubles which had been -smuggled from Kirsakoff’s bank before the looters had -begun their raids in the city. The soldiers would come -now and strip the house of all its contents to find the -money. And if they did find the money, Michael and -Katerin would be accused of opposing Zorogoff’s government -and dealt with as many of the friends of the Kirsakoffs -had already been dealt with—a secret firing -squad in a prison yard at dawn.</p> - -<p class='c009'>As Michael had said, to surrender the fortune would -not mean safety. Others had done that, only to be destroyed -so that no embarrassing claims might be made -against Zorogoff in the future. Zorogoff was but a brigand -chief, maintaining an army at the expense of the -wealthy people in his district and using the peasants and -former workmen to build up his new autocracy—destroy -the aristocrats with the workers and then enslave the -workers who had done the business for him. Thus he -played the poor against the rich and controlled both. -And it was his purpose to leave none living who understood -his aims.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In Michael’s room there was a stove of tile built into -the wall. It reached to the ceiling, and stuck out into the -room like the half of a supporting pillar—a great black -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>column faced with blackened zinc sheets of half-cylinders. -At the bottom was a small iron door to admit the wood, -with a circular damper through which the flames might be -seen when there was fire in the stove. But the Kirsakoffs -did not use this stove. They used their scant supply of -fuel in the stove in Katerin’s room, not only to conserve -their heat in the most comfortable room, but to reduce -the amount of smoke visible from the chimneys outside -during the day.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The stove in Michael’s room had been selected as the -hiding place for the Imperial notes which had been smuggled -from the bank weeks before. It was Katerin’s idea -that the packets could be stacked against the tiles on the -outside of the stove, and the sheets of zinc replaced. And -unless a fire was maintained in the stove for a time long -enough to heat the tiles to the danger point, the paper -money would not be injured. If the Cossacks came to -search for the money, she planned to light a smoldering -fire in the stove. And by night, a couple of candles in -behind some pieces of charred wood, would throw out light -through the damper so that it would appear that the -stove was burning.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The packets of rubles were now concealed in a lot -of discarded peasants’ clothing. The various garments -had been distributed through the house, but Katerin had -gathered them in her father’s room, and was ripping them -open, while Michael was preparing the stove for the money -by removing the zinc facing against the tiles.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was the evening of the day on which Shimilin had -visited them. Katerin was ripping open old gray coats -which smelled of stables and were covered with patches, -breeches contrived out of cloth and the old skins of -animals, uncouth jerkins which had originally been padded -with cotton against the cold of many long-gone Siberian -winters.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>The windows were blanketed to keep the candlelight -from being seen in the street below, and father and daughter -talked in low tones as they worked, while Wassili and -the old woman below in the kitchen kept a sharp watch -against intruders.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael stood on a bench and worked out the screws -which held the zinc plates in place against the wall. It -was now so cold in the room that his breath showed white -in the light of the candles, for they had let the fire in his -room die early, and the door to Katerin’s room was kept -closed so that the heat might not escape from it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Be careful lest the metal sheets fall and make a clatter,” -warned Katerin as she stripped open an old coat, and -released a shower of packets of rubles of large denomination, -from which the face of the dead Czar smiled up at her -wistfully from the engraving. The rubles made a colorful -pile at her feet—blues, crimsons, and yellows, some worth -a hundred rubles, some worth a thousand.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Now!” said Michael, as he lifted off the top plate. -“We are ready for the hiding—and my back is nearly -broken, too. May Zorogoff break his neck if he ever -finds where it is hidden!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin got to her feet and looked up at the rude clay -tiles and the stone blocks mortared in behind them. The -fire did not touch the tiles—they merely retained the -heat and radiated it slowly into the room. And between -the stone blocks and the tiles there was an air space, wider -in some places than in others, so that the thickness of -the packets of money would have to be gauged for the -crevices they were to fill.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin began filling the spaces under the zinc plates -above the stove door. Then the plate above was put into -place, and the aperture behind it packed with money. -They worked more than an hour before they had disposed -of the bulk of the packets. They could hear the calling -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>of the sentries in the streets. At times Michael and Katerin -stopped and listened to the cracking of the frost in -the timbers of the house, and once they put out the candles -when they thought they heard the gate to the courtyard -being opened cautiously. But the noise proved to be -but a whim of the wind with the boards hanging loosely -from the roof of the old wagon-shed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When all the zinc plates were back in place, Katerin -took a piece of candle, and putting charred sticks of -wood back into the stove, she so arranged the candle that -when she lighted the wick and closed the iron door, a -flickering light appeared through the holes in the -door.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We have a fire in the stove,” she said to her father. -“Who is to look for paper rubles in a burning stove? -When the soldiers come to search, you have a fire going -in an instant. And the wood can burn and not harm the -rubles.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We could not do better,” said Michael. “Your wits -will save us yet. And that money is all that stands between -you and beggary—even I, alive, without the fortune, -could not save you from hunger and cold. There -is your treasure! It must be saved to you, my daughter, -at all cost.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I care only for you, my father,” said Katerin. -“And now you are tired and worn—to bed, for we -must keep our strength and have our sleep, even though -disaster crouches in the future.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She kissed him, and went to her own room to get behind -the blankets which curtained the window and to blow -a tiny hole in the frost coating the pane. Outside, the -night was brilliant, with a haloed moon throwing a silvery -sheen over the glistening plains, with a tree here and there -doubly black from its shadow on the powdery snow. Out -in the end of the street the fire of the sentries was burning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>redly. It threw into heavy relief the black forms -squatting about the glowing coals.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Merciful God!” she whispered in prayer. “Are we -to be saved? Help must come to us, or we perish!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She closed the blankets and went back to her father’s -room. She made sure that he was properly covered, -kissed him tenderly, and took away the candle, for she had -known him to lie all night smoking cigarettes till the dawn -by candle light.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In her own room once more, she prayed before the icon, -and prepared for bed. Worn out with the worry of the -day and anxiety for what the new day might bring, she -finally fell asleep.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But the next day came and went without any word -or sign from the Ataman that he was dissatisfied with the -report of Captain Shimilin. Several days passed, and -still there was nothing to indicate that Zorogoff would -annoy them again. Michael began to have hopes that -something would happen which might distract the attention -of the usurper from them. But every hour they -lived in expectation of another visit from Captain Shimilin—and -no news came that the American troops were -moving up the railroad to give protection to the people.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael seemed to grow weaker as time passed. He -fretted under the restraint of what was practically imprisonment. -He worried constantly about the future for -Katerin’s sake. He devised many a scheme by which -they were to escape from the city, only to abandon each -one when Wassili returned from buying food in the -market and reported that Zorogoff’s soldiers were guarding -every outlet from Chita.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Among other plans, Michael had thought of getting -a droshky or a sledge and attempting to dash through fog -or darkness, down the line of the railroad to the Manchurian -border. He thought it might be possible to get -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>into some Manchurian city, or to board a train bound -toward Vladivostok at some point along the railroad -which was outside the zone controlled by Zorogoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But while it might be possible to get through the cordons -of Cossacks around the city, either by eluding them -or bribing them, Michael knew that he might be betrayed -before leaving the house at all. To carry out such a -plan, it would be necessary to take a droshky driver into -confidence, and though he might accept a large sum in -payment, he might also betray Michael. For Zorogoff’s -spies were everywhere.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then it was that Captain Shimilin returned to the -house where the Kirsakoffs were concealed. His soldiers -came pounding at the gate of the courtyard one day just -before noon, and the Cossack captain once more faced -Michael and Katerin in the room with the blue carpet, -the silver samovar, and the battered candelabra.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin was frankly arrogant now, and he looked at -Katerin with an air of bold assurance that, no matter -what she might say, it would be of no avail to her. His -pair of Mongol soldiers came with him, their eyes hungrier -than ever for the things in the room. Katerin involuntarily -pulled her sable coat closer about her when she saw -the greedy gaze of the precious pair upon it. She had -decided to be outwardly gracious as long as she could. -But she was ready to stand out against the demands of -the Ataman, as expressed by Shimilin, as long as she could, -and then abide by the consequences.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin entered without a word, threw off his coat, -and lighted a cigarette. It was plain that his course of -action was settled, and that he knew perfectly what he -would do from first to last. And his air indicated that -he would stand no trifling.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael sat by the table. He had been playing at -solitaire when Shimilin arrived, and the cards were still -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>spread out on the board. Katerin had agreed with her -father that she should handle the situation, for the old -man might be trapped by Shimilin into saying something -which would be used by the Cossack as an excuse for arresting -the old general. Zorogoff had his own methods -for giving a tinge of legitimacy to his unwarranted actions -and justifying himself in the eyes of his soldiers. And -Shimilin knew what Zorogoff demanded now.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what have you come for this time?” asked Katerin, -as Shimilin continued to sit silently and smoke his -cigarette.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Ataman will take no more excuses,” said Shimilin. -“I talked with him about you and your father, but -he would heed neither me nor your protests that you have -no money for him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You mean that the Ataman expects us to provide a -fortune for him? And that having taken all we possess, -you come back wanting more money?” demanded Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is what I have come for. I am sorry that I -have to put you to the trouble, but——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps if I should talk to Zorogoff,” suggested -Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You can only talk to the Ataman with money,” said -Shimilin. He spoke without belligerency, almost apologetically, -yet there was no doubt that he was completely -in earnest.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My answer to that—I am dumb,” said Katerin. -She sat down near her father, and folded her hands in an -attitude of helpless resignation.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You know of some of the things that have happened -here since the Ataman began to rule,” replied Shimilin. -“I can tell you that the dumb have been made to speak -for Zorogoff. This is a matter that you would do well -to consider with great care.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael picked up one of the cards before him, and resumed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>his game, as if what was being said held no interest -for him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin leaned forward from the bench and looked into -the black eyes of the Cossack.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This is a matter that I have considered,” she said -slowly. “I have given thought to it much longer than -you suppose—and I have considered that you, who are -a Cossack, might even kill Russians by order of a Mongol -chief. I am wondering if you have thought of that, Captain -Shimilin, and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin sprang to his feet, his face flushed and his -eyes menacing.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take care what you say about the Ataman!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin smiled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes,” she said. “I also understand what you -seek. It is to have it to say that we insult the Ataman. -If calling him a Mongol is an insult, that is his affair—we -only speak the truth, and if the truth be against him -as he sees it and he resents it, we have nothing to do with -that. I am not making little of him for his blood or his -race. There have been many great men among his people, -and he is of royal line. But it is to you, Captain Shimilin, -that I am speaking. My father and I have always -been friends of the Cossacks. Now you put a Mongol -into power here. Do you expect him to give you what -we Russians have always given you? The rank of free -men? Even our Czar was Ataman of all the Cossacks. -Have you not learned to rule in your own way?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>As Katerin went on, her confidence grew. She saw that -there was shame as well as anger in Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We Cossacks held up the throne on the ends of our -lances,” said Shimilin doggedly. “We have our own master -now, and we ask no advice from you or your father.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Your own master?” Asked Katerin with gentle irony. -“If you are your own masters—why not a Cossack?”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>“This is our country, and we shall rule it as we wish.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“As you wish now? And how long before the Mongol -will be ready to dispense with Cossack lances and turn -your country, as you call it now, over to those who are -closer to him in blood?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You forget,” raged Shimilin, “that the Ataman protects -you—and that you must give him help with money, -as there is none in your family who can aid him with a -sword!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Tribute or death!” cried Katerin. “Is that protection? -And if a Russian cannot pay, the Mongol gets -a Cossack to kill us! Do you think that if I could wear -a sword I would take service under Zorogoff at those terms—and -help to destroy my own race?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Your father ruled here with the help of Cossacks,” -retorted Shimilin. “We paid for the bread of majesty -with our lives and our service—and killing Russians is -no new business for us—eh, Michael Kirsakoff? How of -that, old one? Did we not get well schooled in killing -Russians in your time?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True!” cried Michael, turning to look at Shimilin. -“But you were in the service of Russians. Think well -of that. And those you killed broke the law, or had -killed in their own turn, with their hand lifted against -their fellow Russians or against the throne. The law is -the law and justice is justice. Men are not all just, as -we were not always just. But what law have we broken -here in this house against your Ataman, that you should -threaten us because we have no fortune?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin gave no reply.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you see no difference between the Czar and a -Mongol princeling?” asked Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin turned to his soldiers. “Wait outside for -me,” he commanded with a gesture of dismissal. “I will -call you when you are needed.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>The two men with rifles went outside and closed the -door behind them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin sat down again in an effort to compose himself. -“I did not wish my men to hear the Ataman insulted,” -he began. “I have come here by order of Zorogoff -to take your money—all of it. It is only to be a -loan and you will lose nothing in the end. This is my -advice—give your money to me. I will promise you -safety.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He was frankly conciliatory. It appeared that he -wished to cover his chagrin over what Katerin and her -father had said and to put himself in a better light with -them by a tacit agreement with them that he had no stomach -for the business.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And if we had money and we gave it,” said Katerin, -“how do we know that we would not be destroyed to hide -the debt, as has happened to others?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then it is that you do not trust Zorogoff,” said -Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin laughed lightly. “Those who have trusted -him are dead. He has taken fortunes before—and then -the firing squad. What need has he to destroy us? We -should be safe because we are poor.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin glanced at the door. He leaned forward and -whispered, “Then trust me. Turn over your money to -me—and I promise safety. On my word as a Cossack! -Come!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael turned quickly and looked at Shimilin in surprise, -but Katerin gave her father a glance of caution. -She suspected that Shimilin was trying to trap -them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You must trust us, Captain Shimilin. We have no -fortune for Zorogoff or any other man.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin scowled in disappointment, and seemed to have -more to say, but evidently thought better of it.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>“You will have a glass of tea with us,” said Michael. -“My house is poor, but no man goes from it without——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No!” shouted Shimilin. “I will not have it from -you. You do not trust me!” and he stepped to the door -and flung it open. The two soldiers came back into the -room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Kirsakoff, you must go with these men,” said Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What!” cried Michael. “I am to go? Where am -I to go?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Before the Ataman. It is his orders,” said Shimilin -quietly, and folded his arms.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Does this mean that my father has been arrested?” -gasped Katerin, staring in horror at the Cossack.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Call it what you like,” grunted Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But arrested for what? For being poor? You mean -that my father is to be taken away by soldiers and no -charge is made against him?” pressed Katerin, now aware -that disaster had come.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Get ready to go, and say no more, Kirsakoff,” said -Shimilin. “I shall stay here with your daughter.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I shall go with my father,” insisted Katerin, doing -her best to conceal the agony which possessed her. -She knew that if her father were taken she might never -see him again. “Please! I shall go with my father! -Surely, there can be nothing against my going.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have no fear,” said Shimilin. “Zorogoff wishes to -talk with your father, that is all. No harm will come to -him. And I shall see that no harm comes to you here -while we wait. It will be better for you, and easier for -your father if you do not make any trouble about it. -You will only have to submit in the end.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall go,” said Michael, rising unsteadily to his -feet. “I have no wish to oppose the Ataman if he desires -to talk with me. Come, my daughter—fetch me -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>my coat and my cap. The sooner this is over, the sooner -we shall know what the Ataman expects of me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin hesitated, scanning the face of Shimilin as if -hunting out some secret motive behind the taking of her -father from her. Then with sudden resolution she went -and brought her father’s cap and coat from his room, and -put them on him with loving care. When she had pulled -the fur cap down about the old general’s ears, she threw -her arms about his neck and kissed him, her heart torn -with anguish at the parting, but determined not to give -way to her fears and doubts before him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God go with you and may you return to me soon,” -she said. “And do not worry for me, my father.” She -smiled at him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And God be with you, Katerin Stephanovna, the -brave one,” said Michael. Then turning to Shimilin, he -said, “I am ready to obey your commands and I submit -myself to your soldiers.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take Michael Kirsakoff to the Ataman,” said Shimilin -to his men, and they fell in on each side of Michael. -Between the two, Michael marched across the room, doing -his best to keep his weak old legs from betraying the -unsteadiness of his age. At the door he crossed himself -twice, and turning back, said to Katerin, “Hope is -mightier than fear—remember that you are the daughter -of a soldier and that we do not fear death, but only the -loss of honor. Think not of me, but of yourself, and -God’s blessing and mercy upon you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He turned and was gone, leaving Katerin standing with -folded arms staring at the open door through which he -had passed. Her face was white, her lips drawn tightly -together. She remained thus, listening to the footfalls of -her father and of the soldiers going down the stairs. -When she could hear them no more, Wassili came up and -peered in at the door, his eyes full of terror, and by his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>look silently questioning the truth of the scene he had -just witnessed below.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“See that the doors are properly closed, Wassili,” said -Katerin, and the <i>moujik</i> went below again. She walked -to a bench and sat down facing the stove, partly turned -away from Shimilin who stood in the center of the room. -She ignored his presence, but sat watching the flames -dancing inside the stove behind the iron door, her hands -gripped together in her lap.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin walked to the window and smoothed away the -frost to look into the courtyard and the street. Soon he -turned from the window and looked at Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You may as well tell me where the money may be -found,” he said. “There is nothing to be gained by keeping -it—and much to lose. I gave you your chance, but -you preferred to trust Zorogoff. You would not give it -to me—Zorogoff will take it. Where is the money to be -found?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Where?” she asked, speaking as if in a dream, and -not looking at him. “Where is the money to be found? -That is a question.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not enjoy this business,” said Shimilin, cajolery -in his voice. “If you would trust me——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I trust only in God,” she said. “We trusted the -Cossacks and they have turned against us. We are in -your hands.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin walked across the room, passing behind Katerin, -and drew a glass of water from the samovar and -poured into it some tea from the pot on the top of the -samovar. He stood examining the things on the table, -drinking the hot tea noisily.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There came the sharp crack of a board being broken in -the courtyard below. Katerin turned her head in an attitude -of listening, startled by the noise, and conscious -that its meaning might hold some import of terrible significance. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>She had supposed that her father had gone -from the house with the soldiers. She stood up to go to -the window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin stepped quickly in her way. “You are not to -look out,” he said calmly. “All that you are to do is -to tell me where the money may be found. Why do you -make all this trouble about it? I tell you it is bad. You -could be happy and gay if you would trust me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps you will have another glass of tea,” suggested -Katerin. She returned to the bench and sat down -to mask her worry over the noise she had heard in the -court.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you wish to see your father again?” asked -Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin looked at him, unable to conceal the swift terror -which struck at her heart with the Cossack’s words. -He returned her look with steady eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I wish to see my father again, if it be God’s will,” -she said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Zorogoff is God,” said Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She gave no reply.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I warn you—you must submit to Zorogoff’s will.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Still she gave no answer. The frost from the upper -part of the window had melted away in the heat of the -room, and the ridge of ice across the bottom of the panes -was dripping water to the floor, like the ticking of a -clock.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin turned to the fire again. Her face was drawn -as if she were crying but her eyes were free from tears -and she made no sound.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There came the sound of dull thuds from the courtyard. -Something was striking frozen ground with regular blows, -and soon could be heard the sharp rasping of metal on -stone.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin moved as if she would get up to look out of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>window, but seeing Shimilin standing in front of her as -if he intended to block the way, she sank back on the -bench. Her terror grew as she began to understand the -meaning of the sounds outside.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is that?” she whispered to Shimilin. “Tell -me! What is happening?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come and see for yourself,” said Shimilin, and moved -aside so that she might pass to the window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She got up and started to cross so that she might look -out. But she had not gone half the distance, when she -stopped at hearing Wassili screaming below stairs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Mistress! Mistress! The soldiers are——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Wassili’s cries were checked. There were sounds of -a scuffle, followed by harsh warnings from soldiers that the -<i>moujik</i> must be still.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin ran to the window. As she looked below, she -gave a gurgling cry as if she had been struck in the -mouth, and put her hands up to her face to shut out the -sight of what she saw. For below in the courtyard her -father was working with a shovel and throwing up broken, -frozen, brown earth. A soldier was breaking the ground -with a pick. And about the workers stood a large group -of soldiers with their rifles, watching Kirsakoff dig a -grave!</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin backed away from the window, sobbing, and -threw herself upon a bench.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You submit to Zorogoff or you die—both of -you!” said Shimilin. “There is yet time to save your -father.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin stood up and faced Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have betrayed us!” she cried. “There is no -truth in you, you are not worthy of trust! Death is -better than life where there is no honor, no truth, no -faith in any man!” She turned her back upon the Cossack, -and held out her arms to the icon of the Virgin -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>Mother. “Mercy on the soul that goes to greet you—mercy, -mercy, oh Mother of God!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>A whistle broke shrilly on the cold air outside. Shimilin -leaped at Katerin, and grasping her by the shoulders, -swung her round and thrust her at the window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Look!” he commanded. “If you can be so stubborn! -Look, and see if you still wish to disobey the -orders of the Ataman!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin saw her father standing with his back to the -old wall of the court and six soldiers before him with -their rifles upraised and aimed at the old general.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She fell back against Shimilin, half fainting, but recovering -herself, staggered away from the window and -fell upon her knees, her head bent toward the icon, moaning -prayers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Your father can be saved,” warned Shimilin. -“Would you send him to execution? Tell me where the -money is hidden—or when I lift my hand to the window, -the soldiers will fire!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We are ready for death. I commend my soul and -the soul of my father to God! Better death than life -under the cruelty of a Mongol and the treachery of our -Cossacks!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You will not trust me,” said Shimilin. “I could -save you both. Fools! I am ready to risk my own life -to save you, yet you will not believe!” He raised his -hand to the window.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span> - <h2 class='c015'>IV<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE PLACE OF THE VOW</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>A NEW conductor boarded the train in the -night. He was a big fellow, with a body round -as a bear’s and covered with many coats. He -wore a big sheepskin cap, and carried a smoking lantern -which was made of tin and was square, with a red circular -glass in one side, a blue one in the other, and white ones -on opposite sides. He held the lantern aloft and studied -the sleepers on the shelves, making rainbows in the dim -light of the car as he turned his prismatic lantern.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Snicking the ice from his whiskers, he waited till the -train moved out again, when he promptly lay down in the -passage between the sleeping-shelves and began snoring -into the red light of the lantern on the floor beside him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lieutenant Peter Gordon, who was on a lower shelf, -was awake with the first glimmer of gray light through the -frosted windows. And as he looked out upon the floor -of the car, he was startled by the sanguinary face of the -new conductor in the red glow of the lantern as it rattled -with the jolting of the car. Peter studied the queer figure -prone on the floor, and observed the booted feet stretched -out toward the cold stove in the corner.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Before long the conductor sat up, rubbed his eyes and -yawned a chasm of a yawn. He dug into his clothing -with a burrowing motion of his arm and brought forth -through many strata of coats a watch fit for a giant. He -put it to his ear, tilting his great cap to one side, and listened -to the ticking. Then he squinted at it in the red -light, and having assured himself that the new day had -arrived on time, he buried the watch somewhere in Pliocene -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>recesses and hove himself to his feet and attempted to look -out of the window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There was a remnant of candle stuck to the dirty window-sill -by its own frozen cataract of tallow. The conductor -fumbled for a match, struck it, and lighted the -candle. The heat from its flame began to melt a widening -oval in the frost. The jumping flame revealed more -of the interior of the car—rifles hanging to the walls -and rattling against the boarding with every lurch of the -train, shoes hung on nails, garments swinging from the -upper shelves, bare feet sticking out from blankets, outlandish -bundles tied with bits of rope and twisted cloths, -cartridge belts toothed with the brass tops of cartridges. -And above the complaints of the laboring train could be -heard the snores and sleep-mutterings of the Czech soldiers—men -of an improvised army which had fought its way -across Siberia and was now on the back trail to fight -again that their comrades might be saved from annihilation -by treacherous enemies.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The conductor studied the frozen wilderness through -the window. Having satisfied himself with the landscape, -he stared at the cold stove. He took the big ax which -braced the door of the car shut and attacked a chunk of -wood on the floor with crashing blows. With the splinters -split off he started a fire and dumped in slabs of Manchurian -coal, which crackled like a line of musketry and threw -out into the car ribbons of yellow stifling smoke.</p> - -<p class='c009'>All the sleepers began to cough as the smoke penetrated -the car. Soon there was a chattering and a rattling of -mess gear, and some one at the other end of the car -started the other stove—and a counter smoke-screen -against the conductor’s. Another day had begun in the -filthy rabbit-hutch of a car. And the gallant Czechs, -content to endure their Valley Forge of Siberia, chanted -the songs of their homeland.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>Peter threw off his blankets and sat up. The conductor -smiled at him and reached Peter’s boots up to him -from the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The fire will make it warm soon,” he said, not knowing -that Peter was an American officer and not supposed -to understand or speak Russian.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How soon will we get to Chita, my friend?” asked -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“To Chita? Oh, soon.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how soon?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps half an hour. But you are going to Omsk?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Only to Irkutsk,” said Peter. He broke the ice in his -canvas bucket and washed his face, while the conductor -looked on awe-struck at any person who could be so mad -as to wash in ice water. He scanned Peter’s tunic, which -hung from the shelf.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Are you Czech?” he asked finally.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, I am an American—an officer.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The conductor opened his mouth wide and crossed himself -with both hands.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But you speak Russian,” he said. “It is not right -that you should speak Russian like a Russian and be an -American!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am really Russian,” said Peter. “But it is that I -have been in America a long time. I came from Petersburg, -and now I have come back to help Russia to be -free. Do you know Chita well?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? Yes, a little. My wife’s cousin died there in the -time of the pestilence. He was a fur-hunter, but he was -a stingy. I am not sorry that he died. He ate much -when he came to see us, and never had an extra kopeck -for the children.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who is the governor of Chita now?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The conductor gave a snort of disgust. “How could -there be a governor in this time of freedom? That is the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>old way. But we are free men now, as good as anybody. -Am I not as good as an officer?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Better,” said Peter. “But there was a governor in -the old days. Every place had a governor for the Czar. -You know that as well as I, my friend.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, I know it. But what does it matter now? -This is not the old time.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There was a prison in Chita—or was there?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, there was a prison. A big one on a hill. You -shall see it in time as we come to the city. But it is empty -now, and the devil may live in it for all I care.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have heard that there was a Colonel Governor in -Chita with one eye. He lost the other in a fight with a -tiger, but he killed the tiger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Poosh!” said the conductor. “That is somebody’s -vodka-story. I have been on the railroad from the time -it began, and I never heard of any Colonel Governor who -killed a tiger, or who had one eye. The last governor at -Chita was named Kolessow, and he had a bad leg, not a -bad eye. He ran away when the revolution came. Before -that was Kirsakoff, and I can tell you Kirsakoff had -both his eyes. I never saw him—and a good thing, too, -or——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There never was a governor here named Kirsakoff,” -said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No!” cried the conductor. “You have been in foreign -lands, but you know more than I about this, do you? -I say that there was a governor—Michael Alexandrovitch, -and a general!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps I am wrong after all. Forgive me. But I -had forgotten, because Kirsakoff went to Odessa.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps he did. I don’t know,” said the conductor. -“Are you looking for him?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, no,” said Peter. “I am looking for my brother. -All I know is that my brother was in a place where a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>Colonel Governor with one eye lived—the fellow who had -a fight with a tiger. But it was not Kirsakoff, surely.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said the conductor. “It could not be he. So -you have lost your brother? It is always the same story. -Since we got freedom everybody is lost. I have not had -my pay for six months, and I have seven children living -and my wife is sick. My children cannot eat freedom, -but it is the capitalists who are keeping us poor. In the -old days I had a cow. And now the Americans have come. -It is said that they want to steal our railroad and take -our work away from us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is a lie,” said Peter. “The Americans are your -friends.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What kind of friend comes to steal your work? I -don’t know anything about politics, but my children have -nothing to eat but cabbage. I know that, and they know -it. I think it was better with the Czar. These fellows -who come and talk politics—they are smart men—and -good men. They gave us a lot of rubles. But with freedom -it costs a hundred rubles for a loaf of bread, and I -get no pay. And those fellows who talked politics ate -my cow, and nobody wants the rubles they gave me. -What kind of business is that? Not to take rubles after -my cow has been eaten!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter shook his head, helpless for an answer, and finished -his dressing. He went out on the platform between -cars. The cold air assailed him witheringly, for it was -more than sixty degrees below zero that morning. He -pulled the fur strap of his cap across his nose and leaned -out from the car steps to scan the snow-streaked plain.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In the distance were low hills covered with sparse -fringes of pines and larches. At the base of the hills, -huddled against them like a flock of sheep seeking shelter, -were primitive huts of the aboriginal Buriats, and stray -Mongol herdsmen in winter quarters.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>The train made a detour on temporary trackage to get -round the wreck of a bridge that had been blown up. The -little river was frozen and peasants were cutting a hole -in the ice to get water for a pair of scraggly little Siberian -ponies with coats of long frost-covered hair and -icicles hanging from their nostrils. The men stopped to -watch the train go past, and flailed their bodies with their -arms to keep warmth in their blood.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once more the slowly moving train changed direction -and drew near to low hills ahead, their crests serrated by -timber and their sides slashed with snow which was held -in the frozen water courses. As it rounded these hills -and ran in through a low pass, a city of bizarre appearance -was unmasked. It lay in a great cup between hills—in -a wide valley, level as a plain.</p> - -<p class='c009'>At first sight the city looked more like the smoldering -ruin of a vast settlement that had recently been destroyed -by fire. Rising from a sea of small huts was what appeared -to be a forest of gigantic white fungi—columns -of ivory smoking from the tops, or some poisonous growths -like giant toadstools, or a land filled with tiny craters -from which rose gray fumes that spread high in air into -motionless clouds. These queer pillars were nothing but -smoke rising from the buildings of the city and the warm -air from chimneys rising straight up in the still, frigid -air.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Through the pillars of steam and smoke could be seen -taller buildings, and here and there minaretlike spires -lifted out of the ruck, and catching the morning sun, reflected -the light with tints of gold and bluish green. And -there were great blue domes marking the synagogue, while -a cross and a crescent glinted with gilt from the top of a -Moslem mosque. The old exile settlement of Chita—the -Valley of Despair—had grown to a city and filled -the plain.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>On the slopes of the hill above, Peter saw a great yellowish -stockade built of upright logs which enclosed low, -rambling buildings. The sun flashed from tiny windows -which were smaller than the gun ports of a frigate, or -where the tiny windows were broken there were black holes -like eye sockets in a skull. Many stubby chimneys built -of stone gave the low buildings the appearance of castellated -walls. But no smoke issued from the chimneys.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In contrast with the smoking city below, the place of -the stockade seemed to be deserted. The scant snow all -about it was unbroken by any path, showing that if there -was a road leading to the stockade, it was not in use. -The yellow color of the walls suggested an unhealthiness—a -place shut away from the population of the city. -The lines of the place were clearly etched upon the slope -like the skeleton of some monstrous animal which had -died upon the dreary and deserted hillside. And it was a -dead thing—the wreck of the old prison of the Valley -of Despair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The train puffed into the station. The platform was -thronged with a surging mob of people making a mad -clamor to get into the cars filled with soldiers. They -pleaded to be allowed to ride to any place, but there was -no room for them in the stifling train and the Czechs refused -to allow the refugees aboard. So they gathered up -their pitiful belongings and swarmed back into the station -out of the cold to wait for other trains which might take -them away.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter gathered up his blanket-roll and his bag and -slipped out of the car. He got a porter at the station, -a big <i>moujik</i> in a dirty white apron, to take the things to -a droshky in the square.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once free of the mob, and with the station between -him and the train, Peter looked across the square. Some -soldiers were drilling in the open place—short chaps, of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>heavy build and awkward movements, learning to march -and countermarch under the commands of Cossack officers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There were many brick buildings of three and four -stories. But between them were the low, squat log houses -of old times, battered and unkempt, run-down pioneers -now relegated to the position of poor relations and long -neglected.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peasant women trotted round and round their crude -carts, selling blocks of frozen soup and loaves of black -bread to refugees from the station. The cold air was -laden with sour odors. There was a great gabbling between -buyers and sellers. The women and men kept running -round in circles for warmth, their breath bearding -them with steam from their nostrils. To the half-clad -and hungry, merely keeping alive in such cold was an -agony.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A group of boys with tattered newspapers gathered -about Peter, noting his furs and his brown field-boots -with curious eyes. These boys were wrapped with long -woolen scarfs, and wore uncouth clothes and men’s boots -long since thrown away by the original owners—boots -lacking soles except for rags bound round the feet. If -the lads stood still for but a minute, it was to shiver -violently, so they kept jumping up and down like marionettes -moved by a string. Peter’s eyes filled with tears at -the sight of them, and he threw them a handful of paper -rubles and kopecks that they might have hot cabbage -soup.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Poor little chaps!” he said, and, getting into a -droshky, told the <i>iswostchik</i> to drive to the best hotel. -The horses broke into a gallop at once, straight across the -square, and it was then that Peter noticed an ancient -building in the line of the street ahead. It was built of -logs in the old style.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>“Is that the old post-house?” he shouted to the driver.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, that is it,” said the driver.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then stop! In front of the post-house!” cried Peter, -slapping the driver on the back with a lusty thump. -“Turn, please—and stop!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But it is a restaurant now,” said the driver. -He seemed bewildered, but he swung his horses into the -street before the old building and brought them up -abruptly, muttering in his whiskers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You said to go to a hotel, and this is a restaurant,” -he complained. “How am I to know what you want, -when you say two different things to me about where you -want to go?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I wish to stop here but a minute,” said Peter. He -jumped out of the droshky, and, standing in the street, -looked up and down its length, and turned to survey the -old post-house. Sure enough, the sign over it said it was -a restaurant, and through the tops of the partly clear -windows he could see the gaudy colors of curtains hanging -within.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Sofistkaya!” whispered Peter. “I would never -have known it.” He studied the square, the big white station, -and the buildings of the street. He walked through -the loose sand to a spot directly in front of the door of -the old post-house, but well out from it, and crossed himself -twice with both hands in the old way.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He looked down at the sand and dirty snow.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Blood of my father!” he whispered. “I have come -back to keep the vow! I pray that I am not too late—that -Kirsakoff still lives!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He stood there a few minutes, the tears streaming -down his cheeks and freezing on the flesh. He uttered -prayers, and then strode back to the droshky, entered it, -and was once more rolling up the Sofistkaya.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span> - <h2 class='c015'>V<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE ATAMAN’S DECISION</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_2_0_7 c022'>WHEN Captain Shimilin raised his hand to the -window, there was a sharp command in the -courtyard below, followed by the crash of a -volley from the rifles of the soldiers Katerin had seen -standing before her father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin, kneeling in front of the icon, fell forward upon -the floor at the sound of the volley. Shimilin, still at the -window, stood gazing across the room at her, a puzzled -look upon his face, as if he did not know what to do -next. He heard Wassili wailing in the kitchen below, -and from the court came the sounds of metal being thrust -into flinty soil and laughter and joking comments from -soldiers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin lay still for several minutes. Then she sat up, -and stared at Shimilin as if she had just been awakened -from a dream and was still in doubt about her surroundings -and why she should be there.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is finished,” said Shimilin. “Your father is dead. -I am sorry for you, but the Ataman must be obeyed. If -you will give up the money now, I will protect you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She did not answer him, but continued to stare at him, -attempting to grasp what had happened.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have killed my father!” she whispered, putting -her hands up to her cheeks. “You have killed my father! -And now you want me to pay you for it!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is Zorogoff who has killed your father,” said -Shimilin. “I obey his orders—as you must.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He walked over to Katerin and held out his hand to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>help her to her feet. But she evaded him, and stood up.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a murdering dog,” she said quietly, hatred -and revulsion in her look as she shrank away from him. -“You lied to us—and you lie now! You are no better -than the Mongol—worse than Zorogoff, for he would not -kill his own kind for you!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take care!” he warned, moving toward her threateningly. -“Take care! My soldiers are still below.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She cried out with rage against him, and sprang at -him and struck him in the face with her open hand. Then -she threw up her arm and whirled away from him, to run -behind the screen of her bed as if to get a weapon. But -Shimilin grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her back -into the center of the room. She tore away from him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Kill me!” she cried. “There is nothing left in life -for me now. Kill me, too!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, I will not kill you,” said Shimilin suavely. “We -do not kill women like you too soon, Katerin Stephanovna.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are swine!” she raged. “You told us my father -was to go to the Ataman. Talk to me no more, but kill -me here!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin said nothing, but stood looking at her with -every sign of being on the verge of complying with her -command. But he did not put hand to pistol. Instead, -he shrugged his shoulders and smiled, went to the bed -behind the screen and pulled off a blanket. He threw it -to her but she let it fall upon the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take the blanket,” he said gruffly. “You may have -death if you want it, but not by my hand. Take the -blanket and come with me to the soldiers below.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin kicked the blanket aside.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not fear the cold any more than I fear death,” -she said quietly, and moved to the door. “Come! I will -show you how a Russian woman can die!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>Shimilin followed her down the stairs to the hall below. -The old woman in the kitchen who did the cooking was -crying in a room beyond the kitchen, out of sight. Katerin -felt impelled to call a farewell to the old woman, and -to Wassili, but she refrained because she suspected that -the two servants might protest to the soldiers and draw -ill treatment and probably death.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So she passed down the hall and out through the -double doors into the courtyard. The place was full of -soldiers, and her eyes lit at once upon a pile of fresh, -brown earth near the wagon-shed. That, she knew, was -her father’s grave. She walked straight to the mound, -and stopping beside it, turned and faced the soldiers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The heavily clad men stood about with their rifles, looking -like great beetles, their heads topped with big caps, -their faces wrapped in fur or rags, their bodies rotund -with many garments, and the breath from their nostrils -making what might have been inverted white horns as the -air they breathed out turned to steam and spurted out -from their faces behind the straps over their noses. They -were not in ranks, these men, but gathered in groups as -if waiting for some one to tell them what they should do -next.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Captain Shimilin followed Katerin halfway across the -yard, where he stopped to speak to a tall soldier in a long -coat. The pair talked together quietly, looking at Katerin. -Shimilin carried a towel which he had snatched up -as he had passed out of the hall. He whipped the towel -against his coat while he talked with the other soldier, -and it was plain that the Cossack was in bad humor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin glanced at the spade and the old pickax which -had been cast aside from the mound of earth. She lifted -her eyes to the upper windows of the house. Then she -threw open her sable coat, revealing the dull crimson of -her velvet gown and the white of her throat. Gray and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>white and crimson, she made a striking picture against -the dull background of the old buildings. The morning -breeze which whipped in gustily over the courtyard wall -and rattled the dead vines along its top, lifted wisps of -her hair about her ears. The cold tortured her, but she -gave no indication of her suffering. She looked like a -beautiful flower which had grown in a drab garden now -infested by wild things which had broken in for destruction -and hated all things beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She let her hands fall to her sides. The cold was numbing -her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am ready!” she called to Captain Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Cossack moved to her, and held out the towel. “I -shall cover your eyes so that you shall not see the rifles,” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Please do not touch me,” she begged. “It is all I -ask. Let them shoot!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The soldier who had been talking to Shimilin walked up -to Katerin and peered into her face. His features were -concealed by a strap of fur. Katerin knew by his manner -that he must be an officer, though he wore no insignia. -After a casual glance at him, she looked beyond him and -fixed her gaze upon the house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you understand that you can save your life if you -will follow the advice of Captain Shimilin?” asked the -stranger.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not seek the advice of Captain Shimilin—nor -any other person,” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You prefer to die?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have done with life.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You talk like a brave woman,” went on the stranger.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, be done! I am cold!” said Katerin. She noted -that a group of soldiers had fallen into line before her, -and that the others about the yard gathered closer, regarding -her with curious eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>The tall officer drew apart again with Shimilin, and they -carried on a low conversation once more. The men in -line began to examine their rifles to be in readiness. Both -Shimilin and the other officer returned and stood before -her again.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Because your father, General Kirsakoff, was Governor -here in the old days, is no reason why you should expect to -oppose the new ruler,” said the officer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin did not answer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The officer threw open his long coat, showing a uniform -of gray tunic and blue breeches. He pulled the strap -from his face and revealed the dark face of a Mongol. -Sparse mustaches fell from the ends of his upper lip, -clinging to his jowls as they drooped past the side of -his mouth. His black eyes were set in close to a wide -flat nose. Yet his face had a proud and serious mien—the -face of an Asiatic of high degree, the face of a stoical -and cruel man.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am the Ataman Zorogoff,” he said. “I rule. -Your father would not loan his fortune to my government. -That is all I ask of you. I give you your choice—submit -or die.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin looked at him scornfully.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am nobody,” she said. “I submit only to God and -the saints of heaven. I do not recognize your right to -rule, even though you take my life. Tell your brave -soldiers to shoot.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff laughed harshly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have the spirit of the devil, mistress.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Speak of the devil and we see his tail,” retorted -Katerin, using an old Russian proverb.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a brave woman,” repeated Zorogoff. “You -have the blood of good ancestors—a fighting, ruling -breed—as were mine.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My ancestors have never feared death.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“Do you know that I am a prince in Mongolia?” -asked Zorogoff tartly. He seemed nettled by Katerin’s -way of looking at him, rather than by her scornful words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not doubt it, sir. And you belong there.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah! Is that true? Though your father is governor -no longer, you still tell people where they belong. My -people ruled this land before your people came, and once -more we shall rule. But if you will give up your money -to the government, in time you shall have it back. My -soldiers need food and clothing. What is your answer, -mistress?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>A tremor of cold shook Katerin’s body. The air was -stifling her, and she was chilled till she no longer felt -pain.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Death!” she answered through quivering lips.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff turned to Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The better the horse the worse his bite,” said the -Ataman. “But once he is broken, you have a good horse. -I do not want to kill a woman so brave as this one.” -Turning to Katerin, he went on, “Your sons would know -how to rule, mistress.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I leave no sons,” she said, now too chilled to care or -perceive what the Ataman’s meaning might be.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I was thinking of what your sons might be like,” -went on Zorogoff. “Do not be too sure about sons.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin gave a cry of agony. She knew now what -Zorogoff meant—and she feared now that she might not -die after all. She looked at Zorogoff, as he stood before -her, peering into her face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Kill me!” she cried, and then realizing that unless -she angered him by insults, he might not give the order to -the soldiers, she spoke with infinite loathing, loud enough -so that the soldiers might hear. “You are a lowborn -dog! Your mother was a scullion and your father a -mover of dead bodies! You are neither Cossack nor -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>Mongol, but vermin from mud huts and a disgrace to both -white and yellow!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah!” said Zorogoff. “Now I know that there is -fear in you, and fear for what, my lady! You prefer -the rifles to a palace. What if I should give you the fate -you dislike?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Go to the market place for your women, you swine!” -cried Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Ataman stepped aside and beckoned Shimilin after -him. “Let us see how brave she is,” whispered Zorogoff, -and he made a gesture to the men with the rifles. The -muzzles lifted promptly and the men took aim at -Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will show you who rules now,” called Zorogoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And I will show you how a woman of the nobility -can die, lowborn one!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Fire!” commanded Zorogoff, throwing up an arm in -a gesture of command.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But the rifles did not speak, though they remained leveled -at Katerin. She began a prayer, gazing steadily -into the muzzles which faced her, and waiting for the impact -of the bullets.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Seconds passed. They became minutes. Katerin -closed her eyes against the cold. After a wait she opened -her eyes again and eight rifles still pointed straight at -her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Shoot!” she pleaded. “Please shoot!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She closed her eyes once more. The minutes passed, -and Katerin’s body wavered, swayed, and she collapsed -in a faint across the fresh mound of earth.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take her up and carry her into the house,” commanded -the Ataman. “She is a brave woman—but -stubborn. She shall submit.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The soldiers picked Katerin up and carried her through -the hall to the kitchen. Wassili and the old serving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>woman began to scream, thinking that their mistress had -been killed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff and Shimilin walked out of the yard and into -the street. Shimilin whistled on his fingers. Soon the -troika of the Ataman swung out of a side street and the -horses came galloping up. There were three men in the -troika—two soldiers—and Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Where is my daughter?” demanded the old general. -“What have you done with her? Does she still live?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You will find her inside the house,” said Shimilin. -“She is not dead.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God is good,” said Michael, at once careful of his -words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Go back to your house,” said Zorogoff, “and wait till -I return.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So?” asked Michael. “And why do you return?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You shall know then. There has been too much talk -to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael got out of the troika and the Ataman got in -with Shimilin. Already the soldiers were marching out -from the yard, and swinging back into the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take care that you do not leave the house,” warned -Zorogoff, as Michael stood waiting for the soldiers to be -clear of the gate. “I do not wish to have you and your -daughter run the danger of being fired upon by the sentries. -I wish you both to live as long as God lets you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael, afraid that there was still a trap and that the -Ataman had no intention of leaving, though he had been -covered by the robes in the troika and had swathed his -face and head in furs, did not dare turn his back upon -the precious pair in the vehicle.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I thank you for your consideration,” said the old -general. “I thought I was to die, but I still live and my -daughter is safe.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff leaned out and spoke earnestly. “If the cat -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>wants a fish, let her wet her feet,” he said. And then -added with taunting irony, “You are proud of your -rank and your race, Michael Alexandrovitch—you and -your daughter hold yourselves superior to a Mongol who -is of the blood of rulers, and who rules. But I, too, have -pride. You should know more of me and mine, and to -that purpose you and your daughter shall live in my -palace. I go to prepare for you, and you shall both -live under my roof.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What?” cried Michael. “That is a new string to -the fiddle! Why should we live in your palace?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So that I may take care of your health, Michael. -And I shall need your advice in government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My advice in your government! You come with a -firing squad to kill me and now you talk of taking me to -your palace! Surely, this is a day of madness, and I do -not understand!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You will in time,” replied the Ataman. “You have a -lesson to learn. It is that you must not hold yourselves -superior to Mongol princes. For your grandchildren, -Michael, are to be Mongols, and you and your daughter -shall hold them in your arms. You both shall love them—though -they be of Mongol blood.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff spoke to the driver and the horses galloped -away, leaving Michael cursing under his breath. Then he -ran into the yard as fast as his cold-stiffened legs could -carry him, and entered the house, calling for Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili burst through the door of the kitchen into the -hall, and cried out in terror at sight of the master whom -he supposed to be dead. The <i>moujik</i> fell to his knees, -crossing himself and making the sign to ward off devils.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Katerin! Katerin!” shouted Michael, as he saw the -form of his daughter stretched upon an old bench that -had been turned into a couch. The old serving woman -was giving her mistress restoratives and attempting to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>warm her—but she fled, screaming, as Michael entered.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin opened her eyes and shivered violently. She -stared at her father, who stood over her, and then closed -her eyes again and began to cry. She supposed that she -was delirious and that her father was not really there.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have they tortured you?” cried Michael. “Oh, -Katerin Stephanovna, you are spared to me—and I live! -Look, my daughter!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He lifted her up from the bench and kissed her, crying -to her again and again that he was not dead.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, God! Thou art good!” she moaned, and then -she was swept by sobs of joy and fell back upon the bench.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael collapsed upon the floor, and when Wassili and -the old woman overcame their fears and entered the -kitchen again they found father and daughter crying -quietly and clinging to each other consolingly.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span> - <h2 class='c015'>VI<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE PRISON ON THE HILL</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER did not stop at the Hotel Dauria to see -the room which a sleepy-eyed youth said might -be had. There was a red-hot stove in the entrance-hall, -a dirty stairway leading to an upper floor, -a pair of stuffed bears standing among pots of rubber -plants, and a few old benches on which in better days the -droshky-drivers, the fur-hunters and the gossips of the -city gathered of nights. The front windows were boarded -up and the place still bore signs of the work of looters—leather -hinges on the double doors, wall-paper ripped off -in great gashes which exposed the rough plaster, and -here and there the mark of a bayonet point or the pock -marks of wild bullets.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter simply dumped his baggage in the entrance-hallway -and went out again to pay off the <i>iswostchik</i>. Where -he went, Peter wanted no one watching, so he set out as -if on a casual ramble through the almost deserted streets.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He knew the way to the old prison. It would be up the -Sofistkaya and over the little bridge which spanned the -frozen stream running through the city. But it was not -the same old wooden bridge which Peter expected to find. -It proved to be a sturdy arch of concrete, level and wide.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Some of the buildings near by had been half wrecked or -burned. One big building was but a shell, a black ruin -streaked with snow, with the windows out and the interior -walls revealing old log pillars and a few crazy -rafters. From a lower window there fluttered a bit of -curtain, like a distress signal from an abandoned derelict. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>It was the old house of the governor—Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter lingered and studied this building. There were -few people in the streets, and they paid no attention to -him, for in his furs there was little about him to mark -him as a foreign officer, or a soldier at all, for that matter, -because he wore his pistol under his outer coat in -such way that he could reach it through a pocket.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Water-carts hauled by ponies passed, bringing water -from the city wells. They were shrouded in ice. A few -peasants were on their way to the station bazaar with -bundles of vegetables or partridges. Chinese trotted -about with packs on their backs, smugglers in sugar and -tea, or traders in luxuries brought in by hand over the -railroad—such luxuries as candles, buttons, cigarettes, -and salt.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter went on till he could see above him on the hill -the yellow walls of the old stockade. He mounted the -slope, but headed as if to pass the prison far below, and -walking as if he had no other intention than to wander -up the hill and look back upon the city. He stopped at -times, and looked behind him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>As he went up the slope he managed to draw in closer -to the stockade. The old road had no tracks upon it, -proof that the prison must be deserted. And, in fact, the -city itself seemed to be deserted as he looked down into -it from the upper land. Though smoke came from the -chimneys, the people kept mostly indoors. There was -an ominous hush in the air, as if the inhabitants were -afraid to be seen. The forests gave off no sound of -woodsmen or hunters. Away on the side of the plains -toward Manchuria Peter could see groups of three and -four horsemen on patrol. But the Valley of Despair -seemed like a place in which a pestilence raged, so bare -was it of living beings except around the station.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The place is accursed!” said Peter, as he stood and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>gazed out over the valley and the city. “After America, -I know now what this all means. And there is something -which has brought me back. My father, can it be you? -Can you know? Have you guided me so that justice may -be done? I pray that Kirsakoff be still alive!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Peter did know the meaning of it all. Chita was -a ghastly city built from the weeping of women and the -curses of men doomed to chains and living deaths in dark -cells. The very soil reeked with the blood of exiles.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Peter Gordon, the American, was once more Peter -Petrovitch Gorekin, the Russian. During the three weeks -that he had been on the train from Vladivostok, he had -become more Russian every day. He knew now that the -Russians were not free, though the throne had been overturned. -There was still work to do.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter went on, now straight for the entrance to the -prison, where he found the heavy gate lying in the snow, -torn from its iron hinges and covered with the dents of -logs and rocks which had battered it down.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He entered the prison yard. There were broken tables -and piles of half burned records among charred logs. -The sentry platforms had been dragged down from the -inner wall and made a clutter of wrecked timbers. The -little windows gaped open and the iron bars across them -had been bent outward. Fine, hard snow covered the -wreckage like a powder, gathered here and there in the -cracks of the stone walks and in the holes where the flat -stones had been ripped out and overturned.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The place was without life. Yet it seemed to throb -with life. Peter half expected to find people inside the -long galleries of the prison buildings, though he knew that -there could be no living person in such a place of horrors.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The door opening to the inner guardroom was also -down, a thing of planks strapped together with iron bars. -It lay askew across the stone threshold, and Peter walked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>over its side. It gave out a dull, hollow sound, which set -the echoes going through the long inner galleries of the -cell-wings. A vile odor assailed him as he stepped inside, -and he shivered.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He knew this place well. There were broken desks here, -and gun-racks on the walls had been ripped from their -supports. It was here that he had been taken the morning -after his father had been cut down by the Cossack -before the post-house. And Peter saw again in his mind’s -eye the commandant with the gold bars on his shoulders, -he heard again the careless questions snapped at him. -Then he saw himself, a terrified little boy, led down the -long gallery and thrust into a dark cell.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He pushed on now into the gallery with its battered -cell doors lying half inside and half outside the cells, some -swinging crazily on bent hinges, some partly burned and -lying in bits of charred wood, others splintered and their -fragments strewn along the stone-floored passage.</p> - -<p class='c009'>His feet made dull echoes. There was a sound of -frightened things scampering into dark holes before him. -And to Peter it seemed that there were thousands of men -in the place—men who peered out at him derisively and -gave long hooting laughs at him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was colder inside the prison than outside in the clean -air—a dark, dank, penetrating cold combined with the -sickly smell of an old cage in which frozen white shoots of -growing vegetation killed and preserved by the cold glimmered -uncannily in the rank air.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He found the cell that had been his—sixth on the -right side. The big door was swung inward. The stone -benches inside were black and polished with years of dirt -and years of being sat upon. The stained log walls were -covered with thousands of marks which recorded days and -years spent in the cell by exiles. Among these rows of -time-keeping scratches were also etched words of hate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>and messages of comfort and the scribbled jeers of men -who had made a jest of going from such a place to the -execution yard.</p> - -<p class='c009'>One line on the wall caught Peter’s eye under the searching -beam of his pocket flash light. “God curse Kirsakoff,” -Peter read. The letter had been formed by his -own boyish fingers with a nail—fingers stiff with cold. -He laughed at the sight of it now, and slapped the pistol -on his hip under his greatcoat. His laugh came back to -him multiplied a hundred times from the cells of the long -galleries stretching away in the darkness. The echoes -sounded like a scornful chorus from ghosts.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He sat down on the stone bench and looked at the dirty -hole in the door through which food had been passed in -to him—black bread and greasy soup made from the -refuse of cabbages. He sat there several minutes, and -threw his memory back to the days and nights which he -had spent there buried alive, doubting at times that he existed -till food was brought and the rats gathered round -him, squeaking for their share.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Fear gripped him. He sprang up and ran, his boots -making a clatter over the planks of the broken doors in -the passage. He gained the prison yard and his whole -body was laved in a sweat of agony. He got out into the -open, and stopping an instant to scan the slopes below -to see if he had been observed or followed, he turned away -to the left to the fenced-in grove which was the old burial -ground of the prison.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was in there that his father had been buried, but -Peter did not know where. A few rotten boards lay upon -the ground; a few weather-beaten crosses scored and -twisted out of shape, littered the ground. Peter stood -with tears in his eyes and looked over the rough ground.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Peter Petrovitch has come back, my father,” he said. -And crossing himself, he said a prayer. Then he turned -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>and descended the slopes toward the city, bearing off to -the right and trying to make it appear to any watcher -that he had been wandering about aimlessly. The -thought struck him that he had been unwise in going to -the prison. It might lead to gossip, especially when it -became known in the city that he was an American. Why -should an American officer go prowling about the old -prison of a city which——</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter checked his thoughts in that direction. It -seemed strange that he should refer to himself as an -American. America was now very far away, a dim vista -in his memory, hard to realize, like an old dream faintly -remembered. It seemed odd that America had receded so -far into the background of his mind. For was he not a -Russian? Yes, he knew that he was Russian to the core. -His Americanism had never been anything but an outer -shell, a readjustment to new conditions, a learning of new -things, and a new life. But he had not changed—only -the clothes upon his back. True, he thought, the clothes -would serve a purpose. Who would ever suspect that an -American officer had come to Chita to do what he hoped to -do? Who would ever suspect that the American lieutenant, -Peter Gordon, could be Peter Petrovitch Gorekin, the -son of an unfortunate?</p> - -<p class='c009'>He entered the city again, this time far to the right of -where he had gone up the slope, and rambled along the -Sofistkaya till he came to the old post-house again—the -restaurant. He went in, and found a few soldiers sitting -about tables talking and playing games. He took a -table to himself and when the gypsy girl came for his -order, he called for vodka. He was chilled by his walk -on the hill and his spirits were depressed by the prison. -The liquor warmed him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The restaurant was a dirty place. The old plank -floors were spotted with mud where the ice-balls from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>heels of patrons had melted, and the blackened log rafters -were cobwebby and sooty. There was an ancient icon in -the corner. The walls had been partly stripped of a -moldy old paper so that the yellow plaster showed through -the gashes. And here, as in the hotel, there were bullet -craters.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter finished his glass of vodka and went out again. -He hurried back toward the hotel, but he had not gone -far when he espied in between two modern buildings and -well back from the street, an old hut—an <i>isba</i> of the -old days. He stopped in his tracks and stared at it. -The building was not more than eight feet square, of -single story, with a small window under the eaves. There -was a rude chimney of stones at one end. A sign over -the door told that cigarettes, matches, and holy cards -were sold within.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter went in between the two buildings and pushed -open the low and sagging door of the hut. There was an -old man sitting on a bench under the window with a newspaper—a -thin old hulk of a graybeard with a face -shrouded in white whiskers that were stained yellow about -his hidden mouth. He wore a tiny black skullcap on his -head which brought out the bleached whiteness of his -whiskers and the pallor of his crinkled forehead. His -hands were tucked in the sleeves of his ragged old coat, -and he huddled up toward the smoldering fire in the -ancient fire-pit.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Startled by Peter’s entrance, the old man thrust the -newspaper behind him quickly. As he got to his feet he -kicked the paper out of sight behind a box. He stood -looking at Peter with questioning eyes, knowing that there -was something strange about the visitor but not being -able to tell what in the vague light coming through the -frosted window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you sell cigarettes here?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>“Yes, I sell cigarettes here,” croaked the graybeard. -“Is it that you have come for cigarettes to this poor -place—you, who are dressed in odd clothes?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What else should I come for?” asked Peter pleasantly. -“Do you think I have come to rob you?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old one appeared relieved, but he was still on his -guard.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We never know what a man comes for these days. -And you are not a man of Chita, I can tell that.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What does it matter where I came from, if I pay -for what I take? Come! Let me see some cigarettes!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The graybeard grunted and shuffled across the room to -a shelf and took down some packets of tin covered with a -faded paper.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter looked the room over. It was hard to believe -that this tiny hut was the place in which he had worked -with his father. In his memory it had taken on vaster -proportions, yet in reality it was but a boxlike hovel. -There was the same old adz-hewn plank bench well polished -by years of use; the floor near the fire-pit had the -very depressions worn into the wood by the legs of his -father’s stitching-frame. And the same stone in the -chimney on which his father had whetted the leather-knives! -By that fire-pit Peter had spent many nights -studying out Russian letters and words in battered almanacs. -The place still smelled of leather—or Peter -fancied it did.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Here are cigarettes of the best quality from Harbin, -<i>gospodeen</i>,” said the old man, proffering a long tin box. -“I keep them for such as are of the upper class. I must -pay grease to Chinese for bringing these cigarettes in, and -if you buy, you will be back for more—and twenty -rubles for the box.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter sat down on the bench and pretended to examine -the packet of cigarettes. But he was really looking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>at the little battered samovar on the little wooden -table. Beside the samovar was a blackened piece of tin -which was used to transfer hot coals from the fire-pit to -the samovar. And the rude shelves with their packages -of “Moscow biscuits,” matches, cigarettes, and holy -cards for the holidays and the name days of children -drew Peter’s eyes. The stock in trade was smoke-blackened -and fly-specked by countless summers and winters. -And the room reeked with smoke, which made the old man’s -eyes red and watery.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter saw that the cigarettes were of the cheapest -grade.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Why do you double the price because I am a -stranger?” asked Peter. “You know that half a ruble -would buy these in the old days, and now with the money -bad, ten is enough for them?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God protect us! You speak the Czar’s Russian, -though you wear a foreign coat! Have you come here -to buy from me, or to find who is smuggling? There is -no duty now, true, but I have to pay grease, as I said. -I would say the same to the Ataman himself.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I know something about the price of cigarettes,” -said Peter. He was willing enough to pay the price but -he knew that reluctance would draw the old man out, and -that an argument would probably develop an acquaintance -which might be useful.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But the troubles have come and that makes the price -high,” whined the old man. “Am I to starve among my -cigarettes? There are few enough to buy these days, I -tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will pay, but you are an old robber,” said Peter, -going into his pockets and fetching out two ten-ruble -notes of Imperial money. The old man’s eyes danced, -for he knew Imperials to be worth twice again the new -paper money on which his prices were based.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“Did you come here for a <i>ruganie</i>?” demanded the -old man, meaning a mutual slandering of each other in -Russian in which both parties to the argument call names -of an import so evil as to chill the marrows of respectable -listeners. “And you! You look like a gentleman. -From what place have you come?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“From the place I go back to. Have you been in -Chita long, little grandfather?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I?” asked the old man, stroking his whiskers. “Yes. -What does it matter? I shall be here all time. See the -hills outside? My bones shall build them higher,” and he -broke out into a cackling laugh as if the joke were one -that he used often and still liked its flavor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You were here in the old days?” pressed Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old one gave Peter a keen look, and sat down on -the end of the bench, hiding the precious ten-ruble notes -away somewhere under his arms.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? Why not?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You were here when the prison was full of unfortunates?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I was here when it was emptied, too,” and he laughed -again and bent to poke the fire with an old cane. But -he was getting cautious again, as if he suspected that -there might be more behind the twenty rubles than he -had bargained for.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What happened when the prison was emptied? It -must have been a joyful time.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Graybeard made a noise in his throat which might -have been a chuckle, and turning from the fire stood up -and straightened his back, to gaze frankly at Peter as -if to ask why so many questions were being asked. It -was plain that he disapproved of giving gossip extra -with what he sold.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You should have been here if you wanted to know,” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>“I suppose they killed the soldiers,” went on Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, the unfortunates did not kill the soldiers—except, -perhaps, the bad soldiers who had been cruel. Were -not the soldiers made free also by revolution? As well as -the unfortunates?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” assented Peter. “But the officers? Many -of the officers were killed, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The square down there by the station,” and graybeard -threw out his arm and his eyes took on a reminiscent -look, “the square is full of dead folks—old and -young, officers and all, rich and poor, high and low, -witches and holy men. But the unfortunates did not -harm me. I am Rimsky and the friend of all, though -many were drunk and did not know who were friends. -But I got into a potato-cellar till the worst was over, -though I was stiff in the legs a good month after. But -I was out in time to see them all go off to Petersburg to -kill the Little Father, the fools!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Would you have the Czar back? Is that what you -mean?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? Why do you ask me that? Is it not enough to -know that in the old days there was peace—and that I -would have peace in which to die. Should not a man have -peace in which to meet the dead? That is all I ask -you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But are not the new times better than the old?” -asked Peter. “Would you have the old times back—and -the prison on the hill full of people?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky lighted the fragment of an old cigarette and -smoked a minute before he replied, pulling at his whiskers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“New times, new troubles,” he said with tired voice. -“We knew in the old times what to do to be happy, and -likewise what not to do. It was all put down plain in -the laws and the rules of the governors. Those who -wanted better government did not know that bad government -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>is better than none. Now it is all fighting, and -no man trusts another. But I am not afraid, for my life -is behind me. Now, when the railroad came here, it was -said that everybody would be rich and happy. Before -then we had only the mail-sledges, with their bells and -horses. The people were happy enough, but for these -educated fools always talking about what should be done -with government and getting themselves and poor people -into trouble. Now what do we have? All night an accursed -ringing of railroad bells and screeching whistles -till a man wakes in his bed, thinking the devil is calling. -And people and cows get killed by the railroad—and -mad soldiers come to kill and burn honest people. Is -that good? Who is made rich thereby, and who is made -happy?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you think you would be happier if the Czar -were back,” suggested Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is that what you have come to ask me?” demanded -Rimsky, giving Peter a shrewd look. “Is it that you -are counting those who want the Czar back?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, no,” said Peter. “I have nothing to do with -the government. I will not say to any one what you -say.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I cannot be too sure of that,” said Rimsky, and blew -the smoke from his cigarette upward. “But when the -Czar ruled, I had a watch.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you want a Czar back?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“<i>Tchuk!</i>” cried Rimsky. “The Czar is in a well, -they tell me. But how do I know what to believe? First -it is one lie, and then another, till our heads whirl and -we get drunk to forget so much talk about nothing. How -do I know but that the Czar is on his throne and eating -fish-pie for his dinner?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But suppose a new Czar should come to the throne?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, now you are trying to have me talk politics and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>get into prison. It does not matter. I want only a fire, -my tea, a good soup with meat and bones in it, and a pair -of boots—and men who can be trusted, even if they -be Czar’s governors and cruel. Who is a man to appeal -to now if he is robbed, as was I last month? In the old -days robbers were hanged, and it taught them something, -too.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But you are speaking of Chita, of course. You had -no complaint here, for you had a good Governor.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky went to the samovar and took off the little -teapot, shook it with a circular motion, filled it with hot -water and poured a glass made from the bottom of a -bottle full of tea for Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You talk too much for a stranger,” said Rimsky. -“What do you know about our Governor? Is this the -first time you have been in Siberia, young man?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Of course,” said Peter, taking the tea. “But I have -heard about Chita before.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You may know more than you want to know about -it before you get out,” warned Rimsky. “Are you going -to stay long—and buy more of my cigarettes?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I’ll be here a few weeks, I suppose. I came to see if -I could buy some furs.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, but you are a soldier,” said Rimsky. “And you -will find no furs that are good. Everybody is hunting -men these days,” and he broke out again in his cackling -laugh, as he drew himself some tea in a little yellow bowl.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Did the unfortunates kill the Governor who was here -when they got out of the prison and freedom came to the -people?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Did they?” asked Rimsky. “You tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But you were here, and you know. I was not here,” -said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky shrugged his shoulders and sucked his tea from -the bowl.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>“The <i>provodnik</i> on the train told me that the soldiers -killed the Governor here. What was the name? -Kir—— well, I can’t remember.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Those fellows on the trains do a lot of talking,” said -Rimsky. “They are know-it-alls, and all they do is take -grease from people who want to have food sent up to -us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I’m afraid they don’t tell the truth,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So they told you the soldiers killed Kirsakoff, did -they? But Kirsakoff was not the Governor. You see -that they lied.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps they did not say he was Governor when he -was killed. But they said he had been a Governor in the -old days.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If Kirsakoff had been killed, I would know it,” said -Rimsky.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” agreed Peter. “I thought the <i>provodnik</i> was -talking to make wind and a big man of himself. I knew -he was lying.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How did you know that?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I guessed it. Now that you say Kirsakoff was not -killed, I know it was a lie. Just big talk.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Why should anybody kill Kirsakoff?” demanded -Rimsky.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is what I should like to know. Everybody said -he was a good man, but perhaps some people did not like -him—people in the prison, of course, who were against -the government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“General Kirsakoff had been retired when the troubles -came,” said Rimsky. “More than seven years ago he -was retired. I remembered well the time—I had a sore -foot.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Was he gone from Chita when the troubles came?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, he was here,” said Rimsky, looking straight at -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>“Ah!” said Peter. “So the <i>provodnik</i> lied when he -said Kirsakoff was dead. He is still here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What does it matter where he is?” asked Rimsky.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It does not matter,” said Peter, and set the glass on -the table, buttoning his coat about his neck in preparation -for leaving.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I hear much gossip in this place,” said Rimsky. -“Where do you live in the city?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you for the tea,” said Peter. “It is cold outside. -I may want some more cigarettes—at twenty -rubles a box.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I hear many matters spoken of here,” hinted Rimsky -with confidential air. “About where governors are and -such talk.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is Zorogoff a good man?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is a very cold day outside, true,” said Rimsky. -“But this is a good place to hear gossip.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I care nothing for gossip. But I can see that you -live on it, as an old gander lives on snails,” said Peter -laughingly. “I am going to the Dauria—I am an -American officer. But see that you do not gossip about -me, old fellow.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky wagged his old head and cackled wisely.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A tight lip fools the devil,” warned Peter. “If you -talk I’ll tell Zorogoff you charged me double for cigarettes. -But I’ll come in and see you some day, and bring -a bottle of vodka.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then God guard you till you return!” cried Rimsky, -and Peter went out through the door of the hut.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky sat chuckling into his beard after Peter had -departed. And more than once the old cigarette-seller -told himself, “The sturgeon does not become a sterlet because -he leaves the river for the lake, and the Russian -does not become a foreigner by changing his coat.” That -was a saying of wise men.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span> - <h2 class='c015'>VII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>OLD RIMSKY THINKS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>OLD Rimsky had a wise head. Many people -were afraid of him and said that he talked with -witches and had charms against evil—and he -did sell charms against sickness, bad luck and poor -crops. Besides, he had the reputation of knowing many -things before they happened. But he was merely a wise -old owl with the keen perception of human motives which -is sometimes given to the unlettered man, though he -could read well enough to get the meanings out of newspapers -if there were not too many words in the articles -invented by aristocrats to fool the poor people.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He spent the remainder of the day thinking about the -Russian in the American coat who paid double for cigarettes -and took a profit in getting answers to questions. -He had watched Peter closely, and turned the whole matter -over mentally, sitting by his fire and drinking tea.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky decided that he had not been clever enough -with the stranger. It was plain enough now that the -stranger had come to learn something about Michael -Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff who had been Governor. And -the stranger did not know where Michael was to be found. -In some way the business could be turned to profit and -over many glasses of smoky tea Rimsky evolved a plan by -which he could put money in his purse.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There was an old pig-killing <i>moujik</i> named Ilya Andreitch -who slept in the basement of a bakery on a street -up near the bazaar. Ilya had worked for Kirsakoff years -before, and should know where the general lived if anybody -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>did. As for that, Rimsky now remembered that -Ilya had once boasted that he knew where Kirsakoff lived -since the troubles came and all the rich people were in -hiding.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But there might be little in the boast, for Ilya was an -old fool who was always pretending to know things. But -for all his outward stupidity, Ilya was a sly rascal. His -father had been sent into exile for taking money from -revolutionists in Moscow by pretending to have knowledge -of what the secret police were going to do—who was going -to be arrested, and so on.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It happened that Rimsky had Ilya pretty much under -the thumb, as the saying is. For Ilya had once fed the -pigs of a watch-fixer in the city, and had stolen from his -employer a whole handful of silver holy medals. Rimsky -had bought them from Ilya for a tenth of their value. -Out of appreciation for buying them, Ilya had spent all -the money he got on vodka with Rimsky. The vodka had -been stolen by a waiter in a restaurant owned by a Greek, -and at half price sold it to Ilya, which was quite all right, -for everybody stole from foreigners if they could. The -thing for the foreigners to do is to stay at home and not -go about selling food and drink at prices too high.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky knew that he might be able to induce Ilya to tell -where Kirsakoff was living. That might mean double -money for Rimsky. Kirsakoff would no doubt pay well -to know that an American was seeking him, and the American -would probably pay well to know where Kirsakoff -might be found. It was only a matter of handling them -properly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And by delaying the information sought by both Kirsakoff -and the man who called himself an American, a pretty -penny might be realized. It was by such smart methods, -Rimsky felt sure, that rich folks got rich. And by getting -rich, they made poor folks poorer. Being rich was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>all simple enough, for there was only so much money in -the world, and the trick was to get a lot of it by being -smarter than other folks. There being many fools, the -problem was easy enough. Rimsky knew that the Jews -got rich by being able to figure interest on money, and by -selling only when people wanted to buy and buying only -when people wanted to sell.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So he contrived a plan by which Ilya was to supply the -information for little or nothing, and Rimsky was to sell -it for a bundle of rubles. It would not do to tell Ilya -what was wanted. It would be best to loosen his tongue -with vodka, and then accuse him of having lied when he -had said he knew where Kirsakoff was living. That -method would get Ilya to boasting and he would pop it -all out. It could all be passed off as drinking talk, and -if Ilya insisted on keeping his secret, it would be easy -enough to turn the talk to holy medals. That would -make Ilya see the honey pot, as the saying is; then he -would get Ilya so drunk that he would forget all that had -been said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So when the lights began to appear in the shops across -the Sofistkaya, Rimsky put up his own shutters over the -window and wandered toward the bazaar to look in at the -bakery where Ilya might be found.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was quite dark when Rimsky reached the courtyard -in rear of the building of the bakery. There was a shaft -of flickering light dancing out from a partly open door, -and the yard was filled with the comforting odor of burning -dough. Rimsky planned to ask the bakers first for -a man who once hauled wood for them—a peasant dead -several months before. That would be excuse enough for -coming, and talk could be made till it was time to ask -casually for Ilya. That would throw sand in Ilya’s eyes -as to why Rimsky appeared at the bakery.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old cigarette-seller prowled in through the door -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>and stumbled over loose wood in the hall till he came to -the great room where the bakers were working. A big -man, bare to the waist, was drawing huge loaves from -the stone stove with a wooden shovel. His damp skin -shone in the dancing light. A group of men and women -was sitting on benches in the dark side of the room about -a samovar. A ball of dough was smoking on an iron -sheet laid on the shoulder of the stove.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There had been the murmur of voices till Rimsky stood -framed in the doorway of the room, looking in. When he -appeared there was a sudden hush and silence, except for -the grating of the wooden shovel as it drew out the steaming -loaves and the cracking of the fire in the fire-pit.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God’s blessing on those who labor for us,” said Rimsky, -crossing himself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Some one gave a muttered reply. The man drawing -the loaves turned and peered at Rimsky and then went on -deftly pulling out the bread, puckering his face against -the heat.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A man came clumping down the hall and fell over the -wood. Rimsky stood aside from the door, and the light -from the fire revealed the man with a face shrouded by -long and unkempt whiskers, and on his head a sheepskin -cap black with dirt. He wore a ragged old coat with a -rope turned round his middle several times as a belt.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So this is my old friend, Ilya Andreitch!” exclaimed -Rimsky. “It is long since I have seen you. Perhaps -you can tell me of the friend I am looking for.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya ogled him suspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What has gone wrong that you should be here?” -he growled. He had a healthy fear of Rimsky and wanted -to forget the business of the holy medals.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Can you tell me where I can find Vanusha?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are chasing ghosts,” grumbled Ilya, crossing -himself at mention of a dead man. “That man is dead. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>Or is it that you are looking for souls for the devil?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Dead!” exclaimed Rimsky. “Now that is a pity. -I came to get a drinking friend, but now I shall have to -go and have a glass of vodka by myself in his memory. -He owed me two rubles but he was a good man, I can say -that for him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Better than I can say for you,” Ilya called out into -the dark yard after Rimsky, who had retreated abruptly -from the hall. “He never drank his vodka alone, for -one thing, like others I know, and they not far off. He -was civil to his friends, I can say that—and when you -are dead you had better take care that folks say the -same of you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you didn’t learn your manners from him,” -retorted Rimsky, stopping in the court. “You swing -your tongue too much for an honest man—or to have -it wet with vodka. When I drink I wish to be merry.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are an old wolf with the fleas!” called Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky laughed at him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“May you die blind!” bawled Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, come and warm your belly with a sup of vodka,” -said Rimsky, “unless you think that if you turned good-natured -you would come down with a distemper.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya ran after him and the pair walked down to the -little restaurant kept by a one-eared gypsy from Bessarabia -where in the old days the thieves gathered to dispose -of their loot to Chinese.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There were but a few people inside the place. A -Buriat, who had probably sold some cattle, was lying -across a table in a drunken stupor, his purple conical -cap on the floor under his feet. A crippled beggar was -drinking soup from a bowl with a wooden ladle, and a -Chinese peddler of charms was gambling in a corner with -a Mongol holy man.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky led the way to a table distant from the others -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>and called for the serving girl. He was in good humor -and ordered a whole bottle of vodka, swearing that he -would take only the best and would break the tax seal -with his own fingers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Something has turned your way, you old shark!” -said Ilya. “Or perhaps this is your name day.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, it is that I am getting old and may as well -spend my money before it falls into the hands of robbers,” -said Rimsky. “Soon I shall go to meet the dead. -I pick up a few rubles a day. What is the use of keeping -them these days? I want to spend them with my friends, -and you are a good fellow and a great joker, Ilya Andreitch.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, I can make jokes if I have the wine,” said -Ilya, and hastened to take a swig from the first glass -poured.</p> - -<p class='c009'>They proceeded to talk of nothings, and finished the -bottle.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Fetch another!” Rimsky called to the girl, “and -I’ll drink a health to the rings in your ears, my damsel. -When you were—what am I saying?—when I was -younger you would not have escaped without a kiss.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You had better be putting your grandchildren to -bed,” retorted the girl, but she brought the bottle.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya was suddenly filled with a desire to be modest in -his drinking. He felt it would not be wise to abuse such -a show of hospitality on the part of Rimsky. And the -<i>moujik’s</i> crafty brain suspected that there was a purpose -behind Rimsky’s unlimited generosity. Folks were not -so free-handed without having good cause, he reasoned. -So for every full glass that Rimsky drank, Ilya managed -to dispose of but half a glass. He had a notion that if -he could get Rimsky drunk there might be part of a bottle -left which could be made away with and the joyous occasion -could be carried on alone into the night and perhaps -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>the following day. Also, he took good care that -Rimsky always paid in advance by making a joke with the -gypsy girl that Rimsky had no more money. Rimsky’s -generosity made Ilya suspicious.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Pooh! Money!” said Rimsky, when the third bottle -was brought. “I have enough money to buy all the -vodka in the city.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That’s the vodka talking,” sneered Ilya. “I feel as -if I could buy a farm, but it would be another matter for -me to find the money. That is the way with you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Don’t go on so with big talk,” warned Rimsky, “or -I will begin to talk of the holy medals.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Talk and the devil take you!” cried Ilya, thumping -the bottle down on the table angrily. “If you do I’ll go -my way and wish a curse on you!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Sit still!” commanded Rimsky. “I’ve money -enough, I tell you. If not, I can go and borrow from my -rich friends.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya laughed so loudly at this that he disturbed the -drunken Buriat, who lifted his black head from the table -and glared about the room. He looked like a mandarin, -with his long thin drooping mustaches.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I tell you I have rich friends,” insisted Rimsky. -“I could go now and get a hundred rubles if I needed -them—yes, twenty and a hundred and no interest. Kirsakoff -would let me have them, and no questions asked, and -nothing about when they should be paid back.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What!” exclaimed Ilya, staring at Rimsky. “You -say the old Governor would lend you twenty and a hundred -rubles! <i>Tfu!</i> That’s crazy talk!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes! You think I don’t know the old Governor, eh! -Well, Kirsakoff is a friend of mine, you had better know -that.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Pooh!” snorted Ilya. “You are an old mud-head! -You don’t even know where the old Governor lives in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>city, and you sit there telling to me that he is your friend! -Oh, ho, ho!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps you think you are the only one who knows -where Kirsakoff lives? You are a fool who thinks he is -wise, and that’s the worst fool of all.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya was cautious at once. He gave Rimsky a careful -look, but Rimsky paid no attention to the look.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who told you I said I knew where Kirsakoff lived?” -demanded Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You said it yourself. I heard you say it last Butter -Week in the bazaar. You were drunk and you went -boasting about to the old man from Pischenko with the -red boots. I heard you say it, Ilya Andreitch.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya ruffled his brow and tried to remember when he -had been talking to a man with red boots from Pischenko. -He knew no one in that town who had red boots—unless -it was the butcher’s assistant who married the cake-maker.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” said Ilya. “I might have known then where -Kirsakoff lived. I don’t deny it. Perhaps I was drunk -Butter Week. It wasn’t my fault if I was sober. But -that was a long time ago as time runs now—and I don’t -know where Kirsakoff lives now. And if I did, I wouldn’t -tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky laughed good-naturedly. “Let us have another -drink. You are a good fellow. Of course you do -not know where Michael Alexandrovitch lives. If you -did, you could have money, as I have. It is worth money -to know where the old Governor lives.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya saw that Rimsky was getting very drunk and -seeking an argument.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If you knew where Kirsakoff lived, who would -pay?” asked Ilya, becoming greedy at the mention of -money.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who? There are many. That is something I do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>not want to talk about, Ilya. Hold your tongue,” and -Rimsky picked up his glass and filled it again.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya drank with sad mien, turning over in his mind Rimsky’s -statement that it was worth money to know where -Kirsakoff lived. If that were true, Ilya argued to himself, -he should have the money, for he knew where Kirsakoff -lived with his daughter in an old log house in the outskirts -of the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t intend to hold my tongue,” Ilya announced. -“What I want to know is who would pay money to know -where Kirsakoff lives!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky was startled by the suddenness and vigor with -which Ilya had put the matter before him. And Ilya -leaned across the table, with a big and dirty fist thrust -forward.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who?” asked Rimsky. “Why do you ask me that? -What is there to fight over? We are good friends—we -are—you are friend to me, or——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky swayed in his chair and could not finish. He -made an effort to rally his drugged brain, but slipped -deeper into the chair and his eyes closed on him despite -all he could do to keep them open. His right arm flopped -across the table limply, as useless as a dead seal’s flipper.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Everybody knows where Michael Kirsakoff lives,” -went on Ilya. “Why should any one pay money for -what every one knows. That knowledge is not worth a -beggar’s kopeck.” Ilya lied, but he sought to learn all -he could before Rimsky got too deep into drunken slumber.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” muttered the befuddled Rimsky. “You talk -true talk, Ilya Andreitch. But why do you fight with -me when I can’t see? What did I say?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You talked about there being money in knowing where -Kirsakoff lived,” accused Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky tried to remember why he had said any such -thing. The matter must be as Ilya said—no one would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>give a beggar’s kopeck to know where Kirsakoff lived. -For that matter, Rimsky cared about nothing. The -world was a very pleasant place for all people said about -bad times. He could feel himself slipping away into a -delicious unconsciousness, and he talked aloud the thoughts -which crossed his mind.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There is something wrong about this,” he confided to -himself, unaware that Ilya could hear what was said. -Then he went on, head on chest, and almost under the -table, muttering into his whiskers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The American officer—no, a Russian—well, the -American officer—he wants to know where Michael lives. -And he—will pay well. Didn’t he come to my place asking -about the old Governor? And where did he go? -Yes, the Dauria, I remember, even if I am drunk—to the -Dauria, where the Bolsheviki smashed all the windows. I -know. I remember the time my father’s cow fell in the -river. Was Ilya there? No. How could Ilya be there—I -am dreaming now. Let us all—be merry, for this -is Carnival. Am I not a young man? That is right—dance—dance——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rimsky began to snore softly. The gypsy girl came -and grinned at Ilya, who reached out unsteadily and -plucked the flame from the candle.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Let him sleep,” said Ilya to the girl. “He is a good -fellow,” and putting the cork back into the vodka-bottle -which was half full by the best of good luck, he slipped -it into his pocket, pulled his ragged old coat about his -shoulders and tightened the rope belt. Then he slipped -out of the restaurant, chuckling at his cleverness at putting -Rimsky under the table and learning something which -might put money into his own purse. Besides, he had -the half-bottle of vodka.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He made up his mind to go at once to the house of -Michael Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff and sell the news he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>had heard—an American officer was at the Hotel Dauria -and wanted to find the old Governor. Perhaps Michael -would give five rubles for that news—if not five, then four, -anyhow, a piece of boiled partridge. But Ilya decided -that he would do his best to get five rubles. Michael -Kirsakoff had plenty of money, and who was he anyway?—once -a Governor, true, but no better now than Ilya -Andreitch.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span> - <h2 class='c015'>VIII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>PETER LAYS HIS PLANS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER went back to the Hotel Dauria after his -talk with Rimsky. The sleepy-eyed youth who -had promised a room, carried Peter’s baggage to -the upper floor, where Peter signed the register in a cage-like -little office.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then they went on down a hall past a dining room -which was deserted. Peter looked in. It was filled with -battered tables, tubbed rubber plants in the window sills, -and crazy chairs which had been used in defense and had -legs in splints.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The walls had been stripped of paper. The mirrors of -the buffet-counter at one end of the room had been -smashed out and triangles of broken glass still stuck in the -frames. The curtains had been pulled from the poles -over the windows and the doors. Painted decorations on -the wainscoting had been smeared with the contents of -catsup and vinegar bottles, which had burst against the -walls like star shells and the acids had discolored the pictures -of the crude drawings so that the wall was spotted -and leprous-looking.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was taken to a large room at the end of the hall. -It had three double windows overlooking the end of a -side street that ran into the Sofistkaya, with a view of -the latter. He could see the old post-house and the roof -of Rimsky’s hut sticking up between two higher buildings.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There was an iron bed without bedding. There was a -standing screen in front of it. The chairs had been -broken but were repaired. There were slashes in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>woodwork about the door where bayonets had evidently -been thrust at former guests. And some of the guests -had fared badly, judging by the dark stains on the old -oilcloth which covered the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The plaster of the walls was pitted with bullet-holes, -especially opposite the windows, and the panes of glass -were newly puttied and still marked with the thumb-prints -of the workmen.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Can I have my meals served in the room?” asked -Peter. The youth yawned.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes. If you pay extra. Ring this bell three times -for the samovar girl,” and he pointed to a button in the -wall near the door, and the youth departed, as if afraid -that he would be asked to do something.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There was an electric drop lamp on a writing table, -and running water in a little sink against the wall behind -the screen. There was a tall wardrobe set against a -second door which evidently led to another room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was hard for Peter to realize that Chita could be so -modern. And the room, poor as it was, seemed like a -palace to Peter. His mind had been readjusted to the -things he had known as a boy by his visit to Rimsky. -Peter Petrovitch Gorekin would have thought himself a -king to have a room like this one in which Peter Gordon -was to live.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But there was no Peter Gordon now. Peter Gorekin -was back in Chita. The scene which opened to him from -the windows had been for twenty years in the back of his -brain. The little hut, the post-house, the Sofistkaya! -He found it hard to believe that he had ever been away -from Chita at all.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He sat down by the window. The mild heat from the -radiator had thawed away most of the frost in the panes -and he looked out over the city. Things that had been -but memories were now real, truly existing before his eyes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>in spite of his years of trying to blur their images out of -his mind.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old superstitions of peasants and exiles which he -had learned in his father’s hut as a boy returned to his -mind—tales of werewolves who took the shapes of men -for diabolical purposes. Was there not something in it -all? Was not he himself something like a werewolf? -Was he not a Russian in an American coat? Michael -Kirsakoff would never suspect an American officer of being -the son of a dead exile. Nor would Kirsakoff suspect -an American officer of being the same poor boy who -had been thrown into prison for a whim—now come for -vengeance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The mysticism inherent in his race, the queer inarticulate -yearnings and the dissatisfactions of the Slavic soul, -came to the surface in Peter’s consciousness. But now -he had knowledge of things, and power, and the means -of carrying out his own ends. He would play the game -carefully to an end in Chita, and then go on to Irkutsk -without any one’s suspecting that the American officer -had killed Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He began to think of his return to Chita as a holy -mission. Affairs had turned out well for him from the -first. He had managed to get to Siberia instead of going -to France. He had managed to get himself ordered to -Irkutsk, and had slipped away from his Russian orderly -with no one the wiser that Peter Gordon was really a -Russian. And there was every evidence that Kirsakoff -was still alive and that he was still in Chita. The reticence -of Rimsky in discussing Kirsakoff was proof enough -to Peter that the former Governor might be found somewhere -in the Valley of Despair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He took off his tunic and rang for a samovar. A slattern -of a girl, dirty and unkempt, came trembling to the -door to ask what was wanted. She was not more than -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>fifteen—round-cheeked, with scared blue eyes, and brown -hair down her back. She was wearing men’s cast-off old -shoes. Peter looked at her with pity.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Will you bring me some spice-cakes and a samovar?” -he asked gently.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, master,” she said, and turned to escape.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Don’t be frightened,” said Peter. “I am an American.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, master,” she repeated. But she had no comprehension -of what he had said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Here are five rubles for you,” said Peter, holding out -the note to her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But she fled through the door as he moved toward her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The same old system working,” thought Peter, as he -watched the poor girl running down the hall. “The poor -people frightened out of their wits by the ruling class! -Damn such a country!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He closed the door. He realized now that oppression -was not dead in the country. His years in America had -dimmed his memories of such scenes. He had begun to -think that the revolution had bettered conditions for the -people, that in the twenty years since he was a boy in -Siberia there had been improvement.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old rage began to grow in him again. He lusted -to kill. He wanted to help the people, aside from his -own blood vengeance. He wondered if his dead father -had not been able to help in having the son return to -Chita. His return might be in the nature of a destiny -which it would be sinful to avoid, even divine in its workings. -It was all as if some controlling star had put power -into his hands, and had swung him back to the land of his -boyhood. It would be impossible to go against fate. He -felt that no man could stand out against what had every -sign of being a directed destiny.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was filled with a strange exaltation, a very frenzy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>of joy over the thought that it would now be possible to -pay off his old debt of revenge against Michael Kirsakoff. -The words of an old folk song began to run through his -mind and he hummed it gently, pausing to catch some of -the almost forgotten words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He got out his razor and shaved himself before the big -wall mirror between the windows. The peace and quiet -of his room were luxuries after the days and nights of -living and sleeping on the pounding train among the -Czech soldiers. He had time now for careful planning, -and he desired to make the acquaintance of Kirsakoff at -leisure, arrange the details of how the Governor should -be killed and then carry through the project with all -possible skill so that his tracks might be covered. There -would be many pitfalls to avoid, many nicely balanced -circumstances.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It would not be enough for Peter merely to kill Kirsakoff. -The Governor must know who brought death to -him, must understand before he was sent into eternity -that it was Peter Petrovitch Gorekin, son of the bootmaker, -who took vengeance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The girl came with the samovar and the cakes and left -them on the table. She fled again without taking the -five-ruble note which Peter had left upon the table for -her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter sat by the window and ate and drank. The sun -dropped behind the rim of the hill and twilight came -swiftly. In the street below a line of rude carts passed, -drawn by frosty ponies with their drivers plodding along -behind the carts. They walked like men in their sleep, -oblivious of everything about them and steeped in the -torturing cold.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Farther up the street four men were drifting about -aimlessly, tipsy with vodka. They drew together at times -to engage in maudlin argument, and staggered about like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>clumsy bears, lurching at one another in wild plunges -and falling in the street.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The four roisterers disappeared. A squad of Japanese -soldiers came stumbling down the street, evidently -going on guard at the station for the night. They appeared -to be half frozen, but they doggedly maintained -some semblance of military formation. Their heads were -so wrapped in cloths that they could hardly see their -way, and the fur straps across their faces were white with -frost from the moisture of their nostrils. Their big shoes -were stuffed with straw, which hung out over the tops. -The agonizing cold, despite the heavy clothing of the men, -had penetrated to their bodies and had chilled them to a -condition akin to lethargy. They walked as if through -semiliquid air which impeded their movements.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter remained by the window smoking, while the frost -gradually grew up the windows. He was wondering how -he could find Kirsakoff. It would not do to make direct -inquiries. It might be possible to draw more from Rimsky, -but it would be wise to wait before pressing the cigarette-seller -to talk about Kirsakoff. The graybeard would -be suspicious—he was already suspicious that Peter had -some other motive in going to the hut than buying cigarettes. -Yes, it would be safer to keep away from Rimsky -for a few days, and perhaps wise not to move about the -city too much and start gossip. He might be watched at -first, but after a few days his presence in the city would -be taken as a matter of course. Then he could begin his -quest for Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>With this decision for the future, Peter prepared for -bed.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span> - <h2 class='c015'>IX<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>ILYA USES HIS WITS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>ILYA ANDREITCH, having left Rimsky in a state -of gorgeous befuddlement at the gypsy’s restaurant, -hurried up the street to the house of Michael Kirsakoff -and his daughter. It would be great news, the coming -of an American who wished to find Kirsakoff. It -might be a government matter, for as everybody with an -ounce of brains in his head knew, the Americans were -going to take full control of Russia—some wise folk -even said that the Americans would annex Russia as a -province of America. Others said the Czar had gone -to America and had conquered it, including Venice. -Those were matters which Ilya considered in spare moments; -just now he felt that this news of the American -needed full attention.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya could see the glowing coals of a sentinels’ bonfire -up near the church. Also, there were sounds of -music and singing in the direction of a barrack, and the -rattle of a droshky coming across the little bridge over -the Ingoda. So he did not feel too lonely. There was -no moon up yet, but the stars were out and hanging low. -The thin, sweet air drenched his lungs, and cleared his -brain somewhat.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Now he heard a man walking near by. Ilya stopped -to listen, cocking his head to one side. But when Ilya -stopped, the man stopped also—and then Ilya realized -that it was his own footsteps which he had heard, crunching -the hard snow musically. He laughed discreetly, -taking care that the sentries should not hear him, and -started on again toward the outer rim of the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>But he was a little afraid that he might not get past -some of the sentry groups without being stopped and questioned, -or perhaps arrested. He got off the hard walk -and into the center of the sandy street, so that his boots -would not make a noise. He got out his bottle—the -bottle which he had taken from the restaurant table—and -had a swig from it to give himself courage. It would -be no simple matter to go talking to Kirsakoff, who, -though an Excellence, was a cruel old bones of a man.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Ilya reflected that times had changed. He was as -good as anybody now, and knew as much as anybody. -The revolution had done that for him, and a revolution -was good fun. Was not even Rimsky, who had once held -himself to be better than a <i>moujik</i>, now buying vodka for -<i>moujiks</i>? Hurrah for the revolution! And as for that, -hadn’t he fooled Rimsky and drawn from him the news -that the American had come to see Kirsakoff? That was -proof enough as to who had the better wit. Ilya gave -himself credit for the manner in which he had handled the -whole matter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Kirsakoff should give at least five rubles for the news, -not a kopeck less. Ilya settled that to his own satisfaction, -took another swig, and went on. A wolf howled -in the hills above the city, and Ilya crossed himself -against the wiles of the devil.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He passed the black dome of the church. The air was -like crystal and nothing cast a shadow, not even the iron -fence about the old cemetery of the church. And when -the stars are so bright and hang so low that nothing -throws a shadow, there are witches about.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya hurried on, getting more nervous with every step, -till he was in the outer limits of the city. Then he crossed -some old gardens to get in among the log houses which -stood at the end of the street. In that way he avoided -a group of sentries who were singing about their fire.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>He located Kirsakoff’s house. It stood on a corner of -two streets, with a log wall enclosing the <i>dvor</i>, or courtyard—the -garden, the well, the wagon-sheds. The windows -let out no light, but stood out like tablets of ivory -set into the dark house, their frosty panes glistening under -the stars.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya went round to the great gate. Some old water -casks were lying about it in disorder. One of them was -close to the wall of the court. Ilya moved it a little, and -mounting it, reached up to some old cords and dead vines -running along the top of the logs. He took off his mittens -and felt for a cord that had tied in it a certain number -of knots. He pulled it thrice, and then climbed down -from the cask, and stood in close to the wall, so that any -person looking up the street would not see him, for his -figure would be merged with the dark background of the -wall.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A sentry-fire burned redly out in the end of the street. -A few dark figures were visible about it. Somewhere -Ilya heard a Cossack challenge, and the rattle of a riflebolt -in the crisp air. A pig began to squeal away in the -direction of the Chinese quarter. Ilya missed the friendly -barking of dogs, for the dogs of the city had somehow disappeared -since the troubles came and many people were -starving. The unnatural stillness of the night held a -covert menace, as if all creatures, humans and wild beasts, -were walking about on their toes in dread, or crouched to -spring upon some lurking enemy. It was likely that hill -tigers were about. The occasional howl of a wolf seemed -to be tinged with a note of triumph, as if they were waiting -for their old wilderness to be restored to them by -men. The wolves were once more hunting close to the -city and getting arrogant and fat. Men were too busy -hunting each other to waste time or ammunition on the -great packs of timber wolves.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>A small door in the wall, close to where Ilya stood, opened -inward a few inches, slowly and cautiously, for the -frost cracked the ancient hinges with sharp complaints.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is Ilya—Ilya Andreitch,” he whispered into the -aperture of the gate.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a fool to come here in the starlight,” -growled Wassili. “Are you blind, that you cannot see -the brightness of the stars, or have you a mole for an -uncle?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What does it matter?” whispered Ilya easily. He -did not mind being insulted by Wassili, knowing in time -that he would have the laugh on Kirsakoff’s <i>moujik</i>.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The gate opened a few more inches, and Ilya needed -no greater hint, but slipped through, and the gate closed -after him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You smell like a <i>kabak</i>,” grumbled Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is why you opened the gate,” said Ilya with a -chuckle. “You have a nose for vodka, even if you are -not civil to your friends.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But you will be seen by enemies, to come here so -boldly,” went on Wassili, not so easily altered in his -temper.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? No one saw me. I am as secret as an owl. -Those fools of soldiers are all drunk and talking in their -sleep. They shoot their guns at the moon every night, -to scare honest folk away.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What brings you?” demanded Wassili. “Am I to -stand here freezing because you want to gossip?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I came to talk with Michael Alexandrovitch,” said -Ilya with pomposity. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, -for the vodka he had drunk was again asserting its potency -because he had been standing still so long outside -the gate. He blew gently down into his whiskers to melt -away the ice which had formed in the bristles from his -breath.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>“Hmf!” growled Wassili. “Perhaps you think Michael -Alexandrovitch has baked a pig for your coming? -Have you forgotten that Michael Alexandrovitch is an -Excellence?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am as good as he, Excellence or no Excellence,” retorted -Ilya. “What I remember is the revolution, and -that Ilya Andreitch is as good as the Czar. But I have -brought news for the Excellence. Are we to stand here -warming the night with our breaths, when Michael Alexandrovitch -would be glad to know what I know?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He could salt his porridge with what you know,” -scorned Wassili. “What news do you bring?” He was -still doubtful of the legitimacy of Ilya’s visit, and suspected -his coming to be a desire for drunken argument.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“When a man brings news in these times, he might have -a glass of hot tea,” hinted Ilya. “It is about government, -and I have come with big news about what is being -done outside this place.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have brought a monkey with you, that is what,” -muttered Wassili, meaning that Ilya was foolishly drunk. -But he fastened the bolt of the gate. He was now shivering -with the cold and sulky about it, though he did not -dare risk sending Ilya away if there was any chance of -valuable information’s coming to the attention of his -master, Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Whoosh! Is not a monkey smarter than a fox? -You old pothead, you sit here all day looking at your -feet, while I learn government news and risk my neck to -bring it here and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Be still!” commanded Wassili. “You can be heard -to the hills a night like this! You smell of fresh-killed -pig and vodka, for all your government talk. Is that the -way to come to the house of Excellence? Follow along -with that noisy tongue of yours, but keep your fingers on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>it, for it wags too freely and you will lose it along with -your head, if you are not careful.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, and I’ll bring a drink of vodka along for you, -if you have a fire in your samovar, you old spider.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is good you bring something besides talk,” -grumbled Wassili, as he led the way under the overhanging -roof of the shed and along through the gloom to the -door of the kitchen. Ilya stumbled along after him, -blundering among the kettles and other gear and making -such a racket that Wassili cursed him for having too -many legs. But Ilya, in a gay mood, chuckled into his -beard and was only concerned lest he lose his footing and -have a tumble that would break the precious bottle in his -pocket.</p> - -<p class='c009'>They entered the kitchen, which had its windows hung -with old blankets to keep the light hidden. There was a -wall-stove and a cooking stove with ovens built of stone. -A candle burned on the table. There were partridge -feathers in a sink and the remnants of cabbages that had -been cut up on a board. A big earthen jar of gooseberry -jam stood open on the table and beside it a fat -yellow bowl full of white honey, which gave off a sweet -odor and made Ilya think of bees in the fields in summer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili sat down and rested his elbows on the table. -His pockmarked face had a glum look, and his pale yellow -whiskers bristled with belligerency for Ilya, as if the -<i>moujik</i> were in for trouble unless his story should be of -sufficient import for the visit. Wassili’s blue caftan, pale -and washed out like the garment of a Chinese coolie, was -strapped about him with a bit of scarlet cloth which had -once been embroidered. His feet were wrapped in skins, -ready to be slipped into the big boots standing limply by -the bench upon which he sat. He had not put them on -when he went out to admit Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Let us be merry while we can,” began Ilya, anxious to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>improve the atmosphere of the kitchen as represented -by the scowling Wassili. So Ilya threw himself down -sprawlingly on a bench opposite Wassili, and loosened -the old rope about his coat. Then he pulled his bottle -from his pocket with a flourish of good-fellowship and -slammed it down upon the table with a thump. “We will -all be dead in time that will come soon enough, so I will -have a glass of tea and a spice-cake before I talk with -the Excellence.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The wind is full of news,” said Wassili sadly, but the -sight of the bottle put him in slightly better humor. He -leaned down and squinted across it, to gauge its contents.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How is the health of Excellence?” asked Ilya, his -courage bolstered by a sudden remembrance of his own -importance and a desire to return to the subject of statecraft -in connection with Michael Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Without answering, Wassili poured himself a generous -draft from the bottle into a thick glass, and nodding to -Ilya in place of speaking a health, tossed the liquor off -with a clicking sound in his throat and a harsh appreciative -grunt.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Bring the spice-cakes and the glasses for tea,” he -called out to the other room. An old serving woman -peered into the kitchen, appraised Ilya with critical eyes, -and then shambled away for the cakes and glasses.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya’s yellowed teeth grinned across the table at Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Now when am I to talk with Michael Alexandrovitch, -eh?” he demanded, crossing his legs importantly and rubbing -one knee with his paw of a hand. “Don’t forget -why I have come, Wassili, and that my business is with -the master.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You will see Excellence when you see him,” said Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True!” said Ilya. “But I shall not leave that to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>you, if I have to hammer him up myself. This is a matter -of government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There is no one in the house but the old woman and -myself,” said Wassili, with a flourish of his arm. “Excellence -is gone, and your whiskers will be longer before -you see him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“May the devil tear out your tongue, for it does not -speak the truth,” said Ilya without anger. “This is not -a time for lying, when your master is waiting for news -from me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili flourished his arm as an expression of his annoyance, -and blurted out surlily, “Then go above for -yourself and see, if you know better than I.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old woman shuffled into the room, and put the -glass and a plate of cakes before Ilya, giving him a suspicious -eye, and glancing disapprovingly at Wassili for -permitting what she regarded as a dangerous intrusion. -But she did not linger at the table longer than was necessary -to throw down the plate and the tea-glass.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya picked up a spice-cake and inspected it carefully -by the light of the candle, the maneuver being nothing -but a way of delaying his speech till the old woman had -disappeared.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have come with news about an American who is in -the city,” he began, and bit into the cake.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili turned upon him quickly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a liar!” he exclaimed with ferocity. “There -are no Americans in the city here—they are only in -Vladivostok, and you are blowing a trumpet in this house -while you eat our cakes.” Wassili’s attitude was almost -ferocious.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you know better than I,” said Ilya, blinking at -him across the table and munching the dry cake.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are drunk, and you dare come here in these -times and put a fool’s cap on me—and the master!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>“True, I am drunk,” replied Ilya through a mouthful -of dry cake. “And I hope I’ll die drunk and go to -heaven. But do you think I’m fool enough to run my -legs off and come here, risking bullets in my back when -I might be sitting by the fire with my bottle? Do you -think I come here just to look at your old mud-head? -I cared nothing for your master before the revolution, -but now that I’m as good as he, why should I not do him -a good turn if I can—and he has a few spare rubles to -make it worth my time?” Ilya blew crumbs of dry biscuit -at Wassili with the words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Don’t come here and preach at me like a pope!” cautioned -Wassili, who was puzzled by Ilya’s newly acquired -attitude of independence. Ilya was evidently sure of his -ground—or gone mad entirely.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What!” cried Ilya. “You talk to me like that! -And I have come to tell the master news! Very good. I -know the way home again, and may your bones never know -what it means to be buried.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Where are these Americans you talk about?” demanded -Wassili, as he saw that it would be wiser to let -Ilya have his say.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya snorted, but showed his teeth in a grin of triumph. -“I shall go and tell the American officer that Kirsakoff -and his daughter have gone, eh? That is what you say. -Very good. That will be all right, I suppose—till it -happens that way, and then Excellence will kick you till -you squeal. Then you will wish that you had listened to -Ilya Andreitch and had not tried to make yourself into -an Excellence with big manners.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come, come,” protested Wassili amiably. “Let us -not argue. Tell me what you know and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall tell Excellence myself,” broke in Ilya. “I -am a free man. What good is a revolution if one man -cannot speak to another? Go and tell Excellence that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>Ilya Andreitch, who cut wood for him in the year of the -pestilence, has come with news.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili laughed, and taking advantage of a fit of sneezing -suffered by Ilya from having breathed particles of dry -cake, helped himself to another draft from the bottle of -vodka.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps I had better tell Excellence that a Grand -Duke has come to see him, eh?” and Wassili reached -across the table and poked Ilya in the ribs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Am I not as good as a Grand Duke?” demanded Ilya. -“I am alive to enjoy my vodka and many a Grand Duke -would like to be able to say that, you old fish-gut! Go -and tell the Excellence that I have come.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili got up. “See that you don’t finish the bottle -while I’m gone,” he warned Ilya, and disappeared through -a door into a hall, and Ilya heard him climbing a creaky -stairs.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span> - <h2 class='c015'>X<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>“AN AMERICAN HAS COME!”</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>MICHAEL KIRSAKOFF was seated at a table -writing a letter by the light of a candle when -Wassili knocked at the door of his room. The -old general’s eyes lifted to the door and made a pair of -gleaming points against the gloom behind him. The -broad gold straps on the shoulders of his uniform jacket -set off his white old head so that it appeared to be resting -on a golden tray which threw out a quivering sheen of -yellow light with the trembling of his shoulders. His thin -white hand dropped the pen. He motioned to Katerin to -move behind him so that she stood in the shadow of his -body, and recognizing Wassili’s cautious knock, he ordered -the <i>moujik</i> to enter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Master, Ilya Andreitch has come with news of the -government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who is Ilya Andreitch?” demanded the old general.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ilya, he who once cut wood for the Excellence. I -know the man well. He has often bought food for us in -the bazaar since we came here. He helped me to bring -many things to this house from the other, but he is drunk -to-night. Yet he vows he has news of the government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old general was puzzled. Katerin stepped into the -light and looked at Wassili eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is the news Ilya brings?” she asked gently, -afraid that her father might say something which would -discourage Wassili from permitting Ilya to tell his story.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There is an American officer come to Chita to find the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>Excellence,” said Wassili, with a bow. “I do not know—it -is Ilya Andreitch who says it and he——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin struck her hands together and gave a cry of -joy. “An American!” she cried. “Can it be, my father, -that our friends have at last sent help to us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You say an officer?” exclaimed Michael, his eyes on -Wassili, and burning with an eager light.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So it is said, master.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“By the Holy Saints!” exclaimed Michael. “We -shall escape Zorogoff if this is true! Who else can have -sent him but our friends?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin was crying with joy. She threw her arms -about her father’s neck and kissed him. Till now she -had restrained her emotions, hidden her fears, and faced -death calmly, but the news that aid was at hand released -all her terrors and flooded them with a burst of happiness.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, our friends have got our letters and have sent -an American to save us!” she exclaimed through her tears. -“God of the heavens is good to us, and has answered our -prayers at last, so that we shall have peace and safety. -This is the end of your tortures, my father!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is of you I think, Katerin Stephanovna,” said Michael, -and he grasped her hands and pulled them to his -mouth to kiss them. “What I have suffered I have suffered -for you, for death means nothing to me if you can -be safe.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Tell us, Wassili,” urged Katerin. “Did the American -officer bring word from friends? Is he to come here -for us and take us away? And did he say who sent him?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The gray old head of Michael snapped forward, the -wisps of white hair waving gently. His eyes bored into -Wassili while waiting for the <i>moujik</i> to answer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ilya Andreitch told me but little, master. At first I -thought he was drunk and did not trust him. And when -I told him that he must tell me, he said he would talk with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>no one but Excellence, and that it was secret. Thus I -would not bring him up till you had given the order for -his coming.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then he is below now? Bring him up, and hasten, for -we have no time to lose. Zorogoff may be here again with -the light of morning and I am but now writing what shall -be done when he has killed me. We must see this American -officer with all speed before the Ataman is able to -balk him. By the Holy Saints! This will save my -daughter from death—for she will die before she submits -to the will of this Mongol brigand! Go! Bring -Ilya Andreitch before me and we shall hear his say!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili ran out into the hall and down the stairs, well -pleased with the results of his report to his master, for -he had feared that he had made a mistake in admitting -Ilya at all.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael and Katerin could scarcely wait for Ilya to -come up. The news of deliverance from their dangers—safety -so close at hand after long weary months of hiding -and worry—came like a pardon to two who were condemned -to death. It had been five days since the Ataman -had left them. He was still torturing them, for his -threat against Katerin would undoubtedly be carried out -unless she killed herself. They knew that Zorogoff would -attempt to take them to his “palace” in revenge for their -insults. And they had planned to die together rather -than to permit the Mongol to carry out his evil purpose. -That was the only way in which they could defeat him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Our letter to the Baranoffs got through,” said Michael. -“It is they who have sent this American.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And do you think he will come here—to-night?” -asked Katerin, her pale, drawn face alight with the joy of -escape. “I cannot believe yet that we are to be safe -again! God has answered my prayers! My father, I -had given up hope!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>“Perhaps Ilya brings a letter from the American officer,” -said Michael. “If he has sent word to us by -Ilya, he must have also given Ilya something so that we -shall know the American comes from friends. We cannot -delay. If the Ataman should hear of this American——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They are coming up,” said Katerin, and they heard -Wassili and Ilya mounting the stairs. Soon the light of -a shaking candle appeared down the hall, and Katerin -threw open the door of the room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili blew out the candle when he entered, and thrust -Ilya in ahead of him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Here is Ilya Andreitch, master,” said Wassili, and -Ilya blinked at the candle on Michael’s table, bowed, and -stood nervously fingering his cap.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You bring us news, Ilya Andreitch,” began Michael -when Katerin had closed the door. Michael’s thin, weak -voice took on some of the relief he felt at knowing that -help was at hand after months of danger in a world which -had apparently gone mad, and he spoke somewhat in his -old manner of authority.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I?” asked Ilya. “Yes, Excellence. I bring good -news to your house—and to the mistress.” He bowed -again, this time to Katerin, who had gone to her father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Wassili says an American officer has sent you,” -prompted Katerin, seeing that Ilya was perturbed and -might be stricken dumb by fear of being before the former -Governor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He is at the Dauria, mistress,” said Ilya faintly, and -turned to Wassili as if he expected the <i>moujik</i> to take up -the story now, and go on with it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“At the Dauria Hotel,” agreed Katerin. “And you -have brought a message from him to us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya looked round the room wildly, seeking some escape -from the eyes of Michael which bore upon him steadily.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>“Have you a message from the American?” asked -Katerin gently.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I?” Ilya looked at her in amazement, and turned -toward the door. Then he bowed again to Michael and -Katerin to cover his confusion.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What did the American say?” urged Katerin, and -Wassili gave utterance to a faint snort of disgust and -prodded Ilya in the back.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What did the American say? Who knows?” asked -Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The fool is drunk!” growled Michael. “Come! -Speak up! Or have you drowned your tongue in vodka -and come here to make fools of us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya’s face began to perspire, and he twisted his cap -into a rope.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have no fear, Ilya,” said Katerin soothingly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“May God smite me!” cried Ilya. “It was Rimsky -who told me about it and I ran here to tell the Excellence!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And who is Rimsky?” demanded Michael. “Where -did he learn of the man who has come to see me?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya brushed his brow with the back of his hand. -“Rimsky is an old friend of mine—a good man, Excellence, -who means harm to no one and is a loyal man to -his Czar.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what did this Rimsky tell you?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That the Excellence would pay me well to bring the -news.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael laughed and his irritation disappeared.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So you have a friend named Rimsky who gives away -my money, eh? And so I will pay you—if we can dig -the news out of your skull. Now tell us what it is that -the American said.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya began to twist his cap into a rope with both -hands, and swallowed spittle.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>“Excellence, I have done no harm,” he began. “I -am a poor man. I once cut wood for the Excellence. I -am very secret. Rimsky tried to fish it from me where -the Excellence was living, but I did not tell him. I left -him drunk, and he does not know that I know where the -Excellence lives, and he does not know I have come to the -house of Excellence.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya looked triumphantly at Katerin after this speech, -and bowed again, feeling that he had handled the matter -well, though he sought a sign of approval from the daughter -of the Governor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What has all this to do with the American officer?” -asked Michael. “That is what we are talking about, -Ilya. You are very smart to have done what you did—now -tell us more of it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Rimsky sells cigarettes in an old <i>isba</i> in the Sofistkaya,” -resumed Ilya. “He told me it was a pity he -did not know where the Excellence lived, and he fished me -for it. That is all. And I have come to tell Excellence.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael expressed his dismay by a look at Katerin. -He believed now that Ilya’s visit was only some drunken -foolishness, or probably a trick.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They have told this to Ilya so that they might follow -him here. This is the work of enemies,” said Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Master!” began Wassili, holding up his hand, and -then turning to Ilya, said, “You told me it was a matter -of government. You said there was an American. Tell -the master, as you told me, fool!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“May God smite me, it is as I say!” retorted Ilya -to Wassili with a show of anger. “There is an American -come for Michael Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff, the master -general and Governor. It is truth!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You say it, but how do you know it?” asked Katerin. -She was beginning to feel that her father was right—that -there were no grounds for their hopes other than a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>desire of this crafty <i>moujik</i> and some of his fellows to -squeeze money from her father. But she concealed her -disappointment.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Rimsky told me, mistress, that is how I know,” said -Ilya with a bow.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And it was Rimsky who sent you to this house?” said -Michael. “Now, the truth!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya stared at the floor and tried to think. In a way, -it was true that Rimsky had sent him to the house, and -yet it was not true in just the way that Michael was saying. -The <i>moujik’s</i> brain was not equal to a quick and -accurate reply when folk of education twisted things up -so.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? No, master. Rimsky does not know I came to -this house. How could he send me here when he has no -knowledge of where the Excellence lives? I told no one -because I am very secret, master.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then the American did not send you?” snapped Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Ilya turned to Katerin. “There is an American, mistress,” -he insisted.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You know nothing of an American but what this fool -Rimsky told you?” insisted Michael. “Come! You -have not seen the American?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How could I see him, master?” asked Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael gave a snort of disgust and leaned back in his -chair. “It is nothing,” he said sadly. “Send Ilya -away,” with a look at Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can see the American, mistress,” pleaded Ilya, -aghast at the idea that his visit had come to nothing and -fearful of what Wassili might do once they were in the -courtyard again. “I speak truth! There is an American -officer come seeking the master general!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ilya Andreitch, I will give you fifty rubles if you -will find this American,” said Katerin, hopeful again as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>she saw that Ilya was in earnest—at least she was determined -not to make the mistake of sending Ilya away -without making sure of what he did know. She knew that -he was frightened, and that behind his fear there was more -information than he was able to put into words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can find him, mistress, if he is at the Dauria—I -know the place well. I was there but yesterday with pig-livers.” -His eyes glittered with the richness of the reward -promised.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This is a trap of Zorogoff’s to get us to leave the -house,” growled Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not if there is an American in the city to see us,” -said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Some spy got Rimsky to tell this story to Ilya and -then watch him to see where he went. I do not like it. -Or perhaps they want you to go to the hotel seeking this -mythical officer and seize you there. I tell you it is a -trap, my daughter.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Katerin picked up the pen on the table and wrote -on a sheet of paper this note in Russian:</p> - -<p class='c023'><i>The man who takes this to you can find us again. Time is -precious for we are in great danger. Be discreet. Say who -sends you that we may know you are from friends.</i></p> - -<p class='c024'>She did not sign the note, but dried the ink over the -candle, folded it, and handed it to Ilya with a handful -of rubles which she took from between the leaves of a -book on the table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Give this to the American officer if you find him at -the Dauria. If he has come for us, let him tell you so. -But you are not to come back here to our house—Wassili -will meet you at the <i>sobrania</i> at midnight, and you are -to tell Wassili what the American says. Do not tell the -American where we are but let him send a message and -the name of the friend who has sent him. That will be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>our proof that he is not an enemy. Talk with no one -about this—and when you have told Wassili what the -American says, go home to bed and do not drink. If -you give a true message to Wassili you shall have fifty -rubles more to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He will be drunk as an owl ten minutes after he gets -to the Sofistkaya and the first <i>kabak</i>,” grumbled Michael. -“And if he finds this American, how is the American to -read Russian?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If he come from friends, he must know something of -Russian, else he would not have come by himself—and -perhaps he has with him some man who can read it for -him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are wasting your breath and my ink,” said Michael. -“I think nothing of this business.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God’s blessing on you, mistress,” said Ilya, crossing -himself twice and turning to follow Wassili out of the -room. “I shall be very secret and do as you command—and -I shall not go drinking wine with the money.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili lighted his candle from the flame of the one -burning on the table and opened the door. Ilya went out -before him, and they both descended the stairs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is all a trap, as I have said,” Michael went on -again, staring disconsolately into the flame of the candle, -his head bent forward on his breast. “This is the Ataman’s -work—and he will come again in the morning to -mock us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have faith that God has saved our lives,” said Katerin. -“If an American is in the city who seeks us, I -shall go to him myself in case Ilya fails us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you would be going to your doom, my daughter,” -and Michael dropped his face into his outspread -arms upon the table to conceal the dejection which had -come over him again since he believed that Ilya had come -on a fool’s errand.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>“Hope is greater than fear, my father,” said Katerin, -and lifted his head from the table to kiss him. “Who -knows? By dawn we may be safe with this American. -We must pray that Wassili will bring us a message at -midnight which means the end of our troubles. Zorogoff -will not dare defy an American officer.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Zorogoff will defy the devil himself,” said Michael. -“I put little hope in this fool’s tale, but if it will make -you happy, I will hope and believe till we know that there -is nothing to be gained from this Ilya and his foolishness. -And what you have just said about going to the -hotel yourself—that must not be. I shall not let you -out of my sight.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then perhaps we may both go,” said Katerin. “We -would be in no greater danger if we tried to find the -American than if we waited here for Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall stay here,” said Michael. “I am too old -and wise to be fooled by Mongol tricks. If I knew you -could be safe I would be happy to say farewell to you -forever—but God tells me that we are in greater danger -now than ever, and we must trust no one. Come! Hand -me my pen again, that I may write down the things you -should remember when I am dead.”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XI<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE FLIGHT</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>WASSILI lurked in front of the <i>sobrania</i> from -midnight till near morning. There was a -ball going on inside the building and many -people coming and going during the night, mostly officers -of Zorogoff’s forces and their women. But Wassili -saw nothing of Ilya, though he gossiped with the droshky-drivers -about the <i>sobrania</i>, warming himself against the -biting cold by frequent drinks of tea at a restaurant -across the street.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When he had almost decided to return to Kirsakoff and -report that he had not seen Ilya, he heard that Ilya had -been killed. Then Wassili gathered such details as he -could, and along toward morning hastened homeward with -his story.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin saw the disaster in the <i>moujik’s</i> face when he -appeared at the door of her room, breathing hard from a -run up the stairs. His hands were covered with candle -wax as a result of their shaking.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What news, Wassili?” she cried.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Cossacks killed Ilya soon after he left this house, -mistress,” panted Wassili. “He crossed an old garden -to evade the sentries, and did not stop when they halted -him. He fell with six bullets in him—and they say in -the city that he was a spy, for he carried a secret message.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Your message to the American,” said Michael, who -had waited up for the return of Wassili. “It is as I -said—Ilya was bait for the Ataman’s trap. There is no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>American. If you had gone with Ilya you would have -been seized, my daughter, and if I had gone, I would have -been shot down. We are lost—the story about the -American was a myth to draw us from the house.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But, master, there is truth in what Ilya told us,” put -in Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What?” cried Michael. “You, too? Are you fool -enough to believe now what Ilya Andreitch said?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin had sat down on a bench when she heard that -Ilya had been killed, her hope crushed again. Now she -sprang up at Wassili’s words, waiting for him to go on.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is truth, master,” insisted Wassili. “I had the -news in the city, so what Ilya said must have been true.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who told you?” cried Katerin. “Did they say he -had come for us? Is he at the Dauria? Did you see -him?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili was overwhelmed by such a volley of questions, -and he paused to catch his breath and assort his information -from his memory before he should reply.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come! Come! Rattle your tongue, Wassili!” commanded -Michael. “Sit here and talk!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili sank upon the bench while Michael and Katerin -hovered over him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“An <i>iswostchik</i> told me,” began Wassili. “His father -was in the Siberian Rifles with mine and I can trust his -word. He told me that he drove an American officer to -the Dauria—two days ago. If the American officer is -there now, I cannot say. But there is none among the -<i>iswostchiks</i> who has taken him back to the station. That -I know, for I asked many of them—and they would know -if the stranger had been taken away.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thanks to God!” cried Katerin. “Then though -poor Ilya is dead, there is still hope for us. We must -pray that he spoke the truth. Tell us more, Wassili.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It came about this way,” resumed Wassili. “I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>heard my friend boasting of how he had brought a rich -American to the Dauria—this officer—and how he paid -double fare in Imperial rubles without any complaint. -Not knowing what was the right fare, and not knowing -that Imperials are worth thrice the money now in this -city prove him to be a stranger. That he was an American, -my friend is sure, for he was in Vladivostok last -month and smuggled opium in here for the Chinese when -he came up by the train. Why, he even knows the Americans -so well that he speaks American. He cannot be -fooled—he got rich in Vladivostok changing money for -Americans.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But does the American seek us?” urged Katerin. -She was anxious to establish the fact that the American -had come to help them escape the Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I heard nothing of that, mistress,” replied Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael pondered the matter carefully.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It all means no good for us,” he said finally. “This -officer may have sent Ilya to us, but why was Ilya shot? -I say it looks like a trap.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But Zorogoff’s spies may have known that the -American sent Ilya, and may have killed Ilya so no word -could go back from us,” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I grant that, yes,” said Michael, but still he had his -doubts, and shook his head sadly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And if Zorogoff knows that an American officer has -come, then the Ataman will not dare persecute us further. -Did you hear the name of this American, Wassili?” asked -Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Mistress, I know nothing more. I did not dare go to -the hotel when I heard that Ilya had been killed, but came -back here for the orders of Excellence.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And that was right,” said Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Shall I go now to the American officer, master?” -asked Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>“Let me think on it,” said Michael. “They killed -Ilya and they may also kill you. It is dangerous business -and we must be cautious. If it is true that an American -has come, then the Ataman will do one of two things—strike -speedily or leave us in peace. I believe that he will -destroy us. I wish my wits were equal to telling me what -I should do.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We must not leave it to the Ataman,” declared Katerin. -“The time has come for us to make our decisions—we -it is who must act and not wait for the Ataman to -make up his mind.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We! What do you mean, my daughter? What is it -we can do?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do something before the Ataman returns.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What? What is it we can do, surrounded as we -are?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>There was a new look of determination in Katerin’s -face. “The time has come to be bold,” she said. “If -Zorogoff expects us to wait here for his will or his coming, -we must surprise him—we must go straight to this -American officer and ask him to help us to escape the city, -even if he has not been sent to us by friends. But I’m -sure we will find that he has been dispatched here to rescue -us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael put his hands to his face and stared at Katerin, -aghast at her suggestion. He turned and sat down in -his chair as if he had no strength to remain standing -longer. “What in the name of God are you saying?” -he whispered. “Do you mean we should put ourselves at -the mercy of the Ataman?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Are we not now at the mercy of the Ataman? Are -we not waiting for his men to knock at the door? How -much worse off will we be if we make an attempt to reach -this American?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how much better?” asked Michael. “Will it do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>us more good to be shot down by the sentries as was Ilya -than to remain here waiting for some turn of fortune -which will save us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Fortune has made the turn,” replied Katerin. -“What more do we ask than that an American officer -be in the city?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But if we never reach the hotel? What good would -a regiment of Americans do us if we are shot on the -way?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We must take the chance and get to the hotel,” declared -Katerin. “Surely, you must see that it is better -to risk ourselves for the short time necessary to get to -the Dauria than to remain here and wait for certain -doom.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Madness!” exclaimed Michael. “What we would be -going to would be death in the dark.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall go by the first daylight, while the sentries -are being changed in the streets,” said Katerin quietly. -It was plain that her mind was settled upon the -thing.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael peered at her across the candle flame as if he -doubted her sanity. But Katerin looked back at him -without the slightest sign that she wavered in her determination -to abandon the house.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I see what you mean,” said Michael sadly. “You -prefer to die by bullets rather than by the poison. Perhaps -it is the better way—and I shall go with you and we -shall die together.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin went to him and took up his hands. “I shall -not cross the threshold of that Mongol’s house alive, my -father. I prefer to chance death—and if we fail—then -we are with God and have died as Russians. It is -better to die by the bullet of a soldier than by my own -hand. Remember the threat of Zorogoff and consider my -reasons for not fearing death.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>Michael gave the table a mighty thump with his fist. -“Truth, by the Holy Saints!” he exclaimed. “But I -am the one to make the attempt to get to the hotel—and -find the American. I cannot see you walk into the streets -with such wolves about.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Katerin, “I do not wish you to go alone. -We shall go together—and if we must, we shall die together. -But we cannot go against the designs of God—if -the American officer has been sent to this city by friends -to save us, we must not lose a minute in making ourselves -known to him. The Ataman said he would come back—and -he will come. He knows what I fear more than death. -Very good. We must not wait here for him to come—It -is not in us to lie hidden here like jackals in traps for -the pleasure of the Mongol dog. We must flee with all -possible speed toward the American.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are right,” agreed Michael. “Zorogoff will lose -no time if he learns of this American—and perhaps he -knows of the stranger now. At least, as Wassili heard it, -it must be common gossip in the city. So whatever Zorogoff -plans against us he will accomplish without delay. -But how are we to escape from the house? Are we to go -out openly, as we are?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall escape through the servants’ gate,” said -Katerin, her eyes on the candle as she planned. “It will -be safer to wear the clothing of peasants. If there is a -morning fog, it will help to conceal us. The greatest risk -is in being seen as we get into the street. We cannot -know how closely the house is being watched. But once -clear and into the street, who is to think that two poor -peasants are Michael Kirsakoff and his daughter—unless -we should be stopped by soldiers and made to tell -what our business is, where we came from, and who we -are.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, that is the difficulty,” said Michael. “But as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>you say, if we once get to the hotel, Slipitsky, the old -Jew, if he is still alive, will take us to the American. Do -you know if Slipitsky is still in charge of the Dauria, -Wassili?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“When I heard last, master, Slipitsky still lived,” said -the <i>moujik</i>. “Am I to go with the master and the mistress -and do what I can to protect them?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Katerin. “You would be recognized and -betray our identity to observers. You are to stay here -with the old woman, and if we die, you shall be rewarded -for your loyalty. Bring us old boots—the worst you -can find—and cabbages to carry in a bundle, that we -may appear to be peasants come in from the country to -market.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili went out and at once Katerin began plans and -preparations for their flight from the house. By the -time the morning sun revealed a white fog over the landscape -everything was in readiness. An old shawl had -been filled with packets of rubles wrapped in old newspapers, -and on top had been put her sable coat and other -clothing. But before the shawl was tied up at the corners, -three cabbages had been put in on top so that they -showed through the openings.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The thick fog of morning gave promise that they could -get away from the house without being observed, unless -there were sentries close by the servants’ gate.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When they were ready to depart, Michael put on the -ancient gray coat—that one which was padded with -paper rubles. He belted the shabby garment about him -with an old rope and dropped his pistol into a side pocket. -A dirty old sheepskin cap covered his head and a long -muffler was wound about his neck, the ends trailing over -his back. With the muffler pulled up over his face he -could see through the mesh of the fabric, but his face was -concealed. He also carried a short-stocked whip with a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>dozen lashes, such as the farmers carry with them. In -such attire it was hard to believe that he had been a general -of the Czar and once Governor—now he was but a -bent old <i>moujik</i> who thought of nothing but his crops and -what money he could get for the few provisions he was -carrying into the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin wrapped her head in an old shawl, tied a raggy -towel across her nose against the cold, and drew the shawl -down over her brow so that she peered out through a narrow -slit. Her chin was concealed in the collar of a dirty -and torn coat which had been mended with many faded -patches. She wore a discarded pair of Wassili’s boots, -which had been retrieved from the wagon-shed, where they -had been hung up to be used for hinges or pieces of leather -for repairs. But she also took with her in the bundle -her light shoes and her slippers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When she finally picked up the bundle with the cabbages, -she was a poor farmer’s daughter come in from the -plains to sell her cabbages and buy salt and candles in -the bazaar—and say a prayer at the church.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Before they set out from the house Wassili was sent -into the street and pottered about the casks at the small -door in the wall to see whether the house was being closely -watched. He came back soon and reported that he could -see no one.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old woman who had been doing the cooking stood -crying and rubbing her eyes with her red hands as she saw -the mistress ready to go forth and face the dangers of -the city. She cried and prayed by turns, being sure that -disaster awaited them both. Michael quieted her by a -plentiful handful of rubles and an assurance that if they -made to the hotel safely, she should be provided for before -they escaped the city—but the old woman was disconsolate.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God go with you, master and mistress,” said Wassili, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>as he said farewell. He stood in the kitchen door and -watched Michael and Katerin slip through the gate, bent -on reaching the hotel and seeking the help of the American -officer against the menace of Zorogoff.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>HIDDEN AGAIN</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>MICHAEL trudged along stolidly through the -dirty snow in the middle of the street, his head -bent against the cold in peasant style. Katerin -followed him, close behind, carrying the bundle which -showed the cabbages.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once away from the house they felt they had a chance -of getting to the hotel without being halted if they did -not appear too eager. So they proceeded without haste, -plodding along as if weary after a long walk in from the -plains. To any one who might watch them they were apparently -heedless of their surroundings and concerned -only with where their feet were to be planted for each step, -but they were really watchful through the cloths which -hid their faces. It was not possible to see more than a -hundred yards in any direction, for the fog shut them in -and helped to conceal them from observation.</p> - -<p class='c009'>They had not gone far before they made out the glow -of a sentry-fire. Having planned carefully what they -should do in various circumstances, they had no intention -of attempting to avoid any soldiers, so Michael bore -straight for the group about the fire. The soldiers looked -up and scanned the approaching couple for a minute, then -resumed their talk. Michael turned out just enough to -pass them, lifted his head to stare at them through his -muffler, gave them a gruff good-morning, and passed on. -The four men about the fire supposed that the man and -the woman must have passed through the outer cordons -of sentries and given a satisfactory account of themselves. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>So Katerin also walked past them with a friendly -nod, and though she was nervous for a few minutes after -she had turned her back on them, they said nothing.</p> - -<p class='c009'>As the two drew in toward the business section of the -city they passed people who peered suspiciously at them. -There were times when Michael feared that they were being -followed, but in time the supposed followers turned -up side streets and went about their business.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then a band of roistering soldiers swarmed out of a -<i>kabak</i> and bore down upon the father and daughter. The -men were tipsy after a night of drinking and were singing -wild songs and indulging in pranks among themselves. -They hailed Michael with pleasantries but made way for -him, and were respectfully silent when they passed Katerin, -willing enough to let peasants go on without being -molested. Had they known that the two “peasants” -were General Kirsakoff and his daughter their attitude -might have been entirely different.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin struggled along, the great boots tiring her, -for they were heavy and ill-fitting, and where the snow -was packed hard at the street crossings, the boots slipped -under her and with the heavy bundle she found it hard to -walk. But she knew her father could not help her if they -were to keep up the pretense that they were peasants. -But Michael slowed his pace at times to let Katerin come -up with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>They reached the church, and stopped before it a few -minutes to rest. They prayed and crossed themselves and -lingered as long as they dared, for though they were both -tired and cold, they hoped to get to the hotel before the -fog was dispersed by the sun. They were fortunate that -so few people were abroad.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have good heart,” muttered Michael. “It is not -far now to the hotel, and the roads will be better.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The boots make me slow,” whispered Katerin. “But -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>do not think of me. Save your strength, for I can walk -all day. And we must not appear to be in a hurry.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is plain that no one has suspected us,” said Michael, -peering back through the fog to make sure that -they were not being trailed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The test will come at the hotel,” said Katerin. -“There we may encounter spies, so we must be most -careful.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is too early for many officers of the Ataman to be -about,” said Michael. “But there is safety in boldness.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>They went on. Soon they passed the ruin of the great -house which had been their home in the years while Michael -was Governor. Only one wall stood, black and -charred and penciled with white in crevices of the timbers -where the powdered snow had sifted in. The vacant windows -yawned upon them, showing a dismal background of -drifting fog. In that house they had lived as rulers of -the Valley of Despair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In time they came to the upper end of the Sofistkaya -where a road turned off to the prison on the hill. They -moved down past the big store which had been looted thoroughly -by the Bolsheviki and the exiles who had been freed -from the prison after the fall of the throne. The great -windows along the street were boarded up, and a pair of -Japanese sentries stood by the entrance. From the roof -flew a red and white flag which marked the headquarters of -the Japanese commander.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Next they passed the wrecked bank. It was there that -Michael’s partner had been slain while attempting to save -what was left of the bank’s money after the first big raid. -The windows were also boarded, so that in case of another -uprising by revolutionists the building could not be used -as a rifle-nest for snipers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Now there were more people in the streets. But every -one was going about his business and paid little attention -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>to Michael and Katerin. Such soldiers as they saw ignored -them. They reached the bridge over the Ingoda, -and now could see the front of the Dauria, not far ahead. -They soon gained a position on the street opposite the -entrance to the hotel, and crossed in the middle of the -street after the manner of people from the country. Michael -paused before the door, and waited for Katerin to -come up with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This is the place,” said Michael gruffly, and then he -pushed open the door. He was afraid that there might -be a group of people inside, but his fears were relieved -at finding a sleepy-eyed youth drowsing by a fire-reddened -stove on a bench.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once through the door, Katerin let her bundle drop to -the floor. It was so warm inside that she began to worry -lest they be expected to uncover their faces, and in that -case, if they did not find Slipitsky at once, they might be -recognized by some casual passer-by who would carry -the news of their arrival at the hotel to some of Zorogoff’s -spies.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The youth by the fire roused himself reluctantly and -gave an angry look at the intruders. It was plain he felt -that people so poorly dressed had no business in the hotel. -He eyed the bundle which Katerin had put down, and then -motioned them out of the door with an angry gesture.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Get away with your cabbages!” he snarled. “This -is no public place where people can warm themselves. -This is the best hotel in the city and only for rich people.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael bowed abjectly. “I have come to pay to Mr. -Slipitsky money which I owe him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The youth stared the harder. The heat from the stove -was oppressive after the cold of the streets, but Michael -and Katerin made no move to uncover their faces.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You can give me the money,” said the youth, holding -out his hand, though he did not rise from the bench. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>“Slipitsky is not here and if he were, he would have no -time to bother with you. Come! Hand the money to me -and get out!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Slipitsky not here?” demanded Michael. “But he -told me to come. You mean that he has gone away?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I said he is not here,” said the youth curtly. “I -have other things to do besides answer questions. I’ll -take the money.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, no,” said Michael. “Mr. Slipitsky must sign -the paper if I pay him the money—it is always so. I do -not know who you are. I must see Mr. Slipitsky, I tell -you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The youth got to his feet and looked closely at Michael, -as if suspicious of his purpose. He had probably been -shrewd enough to understand that Michael did not talk -wholly as a peasant. Having scrutinized Michael, he -turned and looked at Katerin, but she ignored his gaze -and looked about the walls at the dirty old posters with -pictures of Russian ships.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Go away!” said the youth finally. “I can’t be -troubled. This is no time to come asking for Mr. Slipitsky.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I have come twenty versts this morning to see -Mr. Slipitsky and give him the money and I must get back -to my cow,” insisted Michael, seeing that he was making -an impression on the youth despite the latter’s show of -contempt. “And if I have to go back to my house, it -will be two months again before I can pay——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>A black figure appeared at the top of the stairs while -Michael was talking, and called down sharply, “Dazo! -What are you doing? Who is there?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t know who it is,” said Dazo. “Some fools -in from the country who have lost their way and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And is it a grand ball or something you are having -down there with all this talk I hear, till I can’t do anything -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>with my figures?” demanded the one above wrathfully. -“Who is it come to talk with you so early in the -morning? Maybe some rich gentleman from Moscow, -eh?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael now recognized the person above as Slipitsky, -and knowing that they were safe at last, called out, “Mr. -Slipitsky, I have come to pay you the money I owe to -you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky leaned forward and peered down the stairs. -“What! Somebody would be paying me money and that -stupid goat of a Dazo does not know what is wanted. -Dazo! Is it money you would let slip away from me in -these times? Oy! A poor man you would make of me, -stupid one! Tell the gentleman to come up.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Michael did not wait to be urged by Dazo to go -up. He started at once, and Katerin picked up the -bundle and followed. Slipitsky remained standing in the -dim light of the upper hall at the head of the stairs, peering -down, and as Michael drew near the top, waved him -forward. “Come this way to my office, please. And -you—Dazo! Keep the door shut or I shall be beggared -with buying wood from the Buriats. It is the house we -wish to warm, and not all of Chita.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky trotted ahead of Michael and led the way -into a tiny room. By the time Michael entered, the old -Jew was standing behind a desk.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have come to pay me money?” he demanded -when Katerin had entered the room. “Who is it, I ask?” -he added, suspicious now because Michael had not uncovered -his face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky was old and bent himself, with long black -whiskers, a grave and wrinkled face, small black eyes that -seemed to grasp what they looked at. He wore a round -black cap on his head, and about his shoulders was a long -black cape tied in at the middle with a green cord which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>had ended its usefulness as a curtain cord. His brow was -furrowed, and he had no teeth that were visible, but his -face had a benevolent expression as if he found it hard -to be stern with people. There was something about his -manner as he stood behind the desk which suggested a -teacher. A wrinkled little smile lurked about his eyes—a -ghost of a smile which had dissipated perhaps under the -cruel times that had come. His breath smelled of boiled -onions and the same odor pervaded the close little room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who is it, I ask?” repeated Slipitsky when Michael -made no answer but turned to close the door behind Katerin. -The old Jew was on his guard at once, for he knew -these muffled figures might be robbers or secret police sent -by Zorogoff to arrest him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We have come to have a talk with you privately,” -whispered Michael. Slipitsky’s face was instantly -screwed up with terror, and his jaw dropped. For an instant -he was in something of a panic and he drew back -into a corner, for he knew that no rude peasant would -speak so correctly as had this stranger before him. And -whispers always meant secrecy if not imminent danger.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are not peasants!” mumbled Slipitsky. “You -have come in here by a trick! You do not speak now as -peasants! Who has sent you here to make trouble for -me in my house?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael whipped the muffler down from his face by way -of answer and thrust his face forward into the light from -the frosted window so that Slipitsky might recognize him -without further talk.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Prophets of Israel!” cried the Jew, suddenly relieved -of his worry as he recognized Michael. “You are -dead!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not yet, by the kindness of God,” whispered Michael, -and turning to his daughter, said, “Also Katerin Stephanovna -has come with me. You must hide us both, for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>we are beset by the Ataman and have fled away from our -house to save our lives.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True enough, it is Michael Alexandrovitch, his Excellence -who was Governor!” whispered Slipitsky as if assuring -himself that he was not deceived by his eyes. He -clapped his hands over his ears. “It was said that you -were both dead! Four months ago I heard you had been -killed! Is it that you have risen from the dead by a -miracle, my old friends? By the patriarchs! This is a -sight for me! Both of you—and dressed in poor rags -like serfs come in from a farm to sell butter!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin had exposed her face and smiled joyfully at -the old Jew.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take care or you will be heard speaking to us and -we shall be betrayed,” warned Michael. “No one must -know we are here, or Zorogoff comes——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Enough!” cried Slipitsky, and ran out from behind -his desk, keys jangling in his pockets, and shot the bolt -on the door. “As you say, the place is like a beehive -with spies,” he whispered, turning back to Michael. -“That rascal, Dazo, below stairs is one of Zorogoff’s -men, I know! The Cossacks made me make a place for -him there at the door to watch—but I know he is an underground -for the Ataman!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then we shall be delivered,” said Michael, pulling up -his muffler over his face again. “If it be already known -to him that we are here——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We must fool him,” said Slipitsky. “What is the -good of having a head if we do not use it? You must go -out again and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But where shall we stay?” demanded Michael, -alarmed at the Jew’s saying they must go. To be turned -into the streets again meant certain capture by soldiers -of the Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Please, you must hide us for our lives!” pleaded -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>Katerin. “If you do not hide us somewhere we shall be -killed!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall all be killed!” exclaimed Slipitsky. “Take -off your covering and let me see your face again, mistress! -Ah, yes, it is you! Can you doubt that I will not -do what I can for old friends? Be patient.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then we can stay?” asked Katerin. “But what of -the spy below? Will he not reveal us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We are desperate,” urged Michael. “Zorogoff has -given us the mental torture—if he finds us again he will -take my daughter to his palace to——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Toosh!” exploded Slipitsky. “Zorogoff is not to -find you. I have known persecution in my day—who of -my people have not? And in your time you were good to -some of my friends. Ah, I never forget, my friend! I -will hide you well. But if Zorogoff knows, then we are -all dead together—as dead as the prophets! That -Ataman is a robber, Excellence! Every week I must pay -him money till I am beggared. Taxes, he calls it! Is -the last kopeck from a poor man taxes, I ask? And -every name that goes in the book he watches, for fear I -would have a stranger under my roof who might be a spy -against him! And that dog of a Dazo is his eyes. But -we must fool Dazo, as you shall see.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He will know if we do not go away again,” said Katerin. -“How are we to fool him on that?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Toosh! Who is to suspect that the two peasants -who came this morning to pay me money were his Excellence -the General and his daughter? It is how you get -out again, as Dazo sees it, that gives me troubles. But -I shall put you in rooms and no names in the book for the -spies. So we must fool that stupid one below. Wait -here for me, Excellence.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Jew unbolted the door with cautious fingers and -looked down the hall. Then he went out and closed the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>door after him to look down the stairs. He saw Dazo -lying on the bench, his back to the stove, apparently napping.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Dazo!” yelled Slipitsky frantically, at the same time -beginning a wild caper like a dance, “Dazo! Stop the -two—the old man and the woman with the cabbages! -Stop them I say, or I am ruined for twenty rubles! Oh, -oh, oh!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Dazo rolled off the bench and sat up, staring about -him in bewilderment, startled out of a sound doze by the -screams of Slipitsky.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is the trouble?” called the youth. “What has -happened now?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Enough has happened!” cried Slipitsky. “The two -peasants who came in with the cabbages to pay me money! -Stop them! Oh, I am ruined!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I saw no one!” cried Dazo. “I tell you no one -has come in or gone out from this place while——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Stop the talk and run!” screamed Slipitsky, wringing -his hands in agony. “I signed the receipt but the rubles -they gave me were bad! Twenty rubles, I say, I lose! -They just went out the door while you were dreaming of -the wife you beat in Irkutsk! They just went out the -door! Run for them and drag them back by their hair! -Run, run—hurry!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are crazy,” muttered Dazo, but he reached for -his coat to the wooden hook on the wall, not sure now that -the two strangers had not evaded him while he was asleep.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am crazy for my twenty rubles!” raged Slipitsky, -and Dazo pulled on his coat and dashed into the street.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky ran back to his little office and let himself in.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come!” he commanded. “I will put you in rooms, -now that I have sent that fool of a Dazo down the Sofistkaya -looking for you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael and Katerin followed him down the long hall. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>The Jew put a big brass key into a door, and, turning the -lock, thrust Michael into the room and handed him the -key. “Keep quiet till I come with food, and if any one -knocks do not answer. We have fooled that fox of a -Dazo, and we shall fool the Ataman!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And the old Jew put his fingers to his lips against -the thanks which Michael and Katerin would have expressed, -slipped out through the door and was gone, wailing -through the hall about the fictitious twenty rubles -which he had lost by the carelessness of Dazo, the spy.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XIII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>KATERIN PLANS TO MEET THE AMERICAN</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>SLIPITSKY returned to the Kirsakoffs in an hour, -bringing with him a small samovar, some bread, -and a cold partridge. In his pocket he carried a -bottle of wine for Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You will need something to warm and hearten you, -Excellence, for there is not much warmth,” he said when -Katerin had let him in.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael was sitting on the bed, his boots off and his -eyes blinking, for he had been sleeping, being worn out -with waiting up for the return of Wassili the night before, -the preparation for the flight, and the journey afoot into -the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, that is good!” said Michael. “I am famished, -though I have had a good sleep—without bad dreams, -for now we are out of danger, old friend.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky turned and looked at him in surprise. “Out -of danger! Do not think my hotel is so safe, Excellence. -Zorogoff may ask for all my rooms any day for more of -his officers—and when he takes the notion he searches -the place. So you are still in danger—unless you have -a plan for escape from the city. Surely you and the -daughter must have some scheme for getting out by an -underground!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, true!” said Michael, taking a glass of wine from -Katerin’s hand. “That is why we have come—there is -an American here?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Friends have sent an American officer to us,” explained -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>Katerin to the Jew. “Is he not here in the -house?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So-o!” whispered Slipitsky, betraying his amazement. -“It is you he has come for? And that is why so -little has been seen of him! Two nights he has been under -the roof and he has not stirred out, but sits all day smoking -by a samovar! I have seen him in the hall once—a -big fellow, maybe a colonel! And he has paid a week in -advance, too, but I could not read what he wrote in the -book for Dazo. So he got word to you that he was here—well, -that is good for you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We have heard that he was in the city looking for -us,” said Michael. “But we are not sure—we must look -into the matter. But I doubt if Zorogoff will dare interfere -with an American—or us if the American has come -to help us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky sat down and pulled his beard thoughtfully -while Katerin busied herself with brewing the tea at the -samovar.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is hard for us to tell what that devil of an Ataman -will do with anybody,” said Slipitsky. “But an American—that -is different. So your friends have done this -for you! And the American has sent word to you that -he is here waiting for you, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We heard it through Ilya Andreitch, a peasant, who -came to our house last night with the news,” explained -Katerin. “But when Ilya was sent here with a message -last night he was killed. But the American did not tell -Ilya to go to us—Ilya got news from friends of his.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky opened his eyes at that, and rolled them -thoughtfully. “Then the American did not send the -word to you by Ilya?” He was puzzled—and troubled -again. “And Ilya was shot? That is bad.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall have to be very cautious about it,” put in -Michael, “for I am afraid of a trap.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>“Ilya got the news from Rimsky, an old cigarette-seller,” -said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What!” exclaimed Slipitsky. “From that old liar? -He will say anything for ten kopecks. What does he -know about our American? Rimsky has not been here to -see him. I tell you, there is something wrong about this—it -may be that Rimsky is a spy.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, yes!” said Michael, frowning thoughtfully. -“What if Rimsky is a spy, as you say, and Ilya was -fooled about the American’s having come for us? That -is what I said from the first!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But it may be that the American asked Rimsky about -us before he came to the hotel at all,” said Katerin. -“And perhaps Rimsky gave the news to poor Ilya, and -perhaps the news was truth. Then would it not be -right?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I would like to see something that is right if Rimsky -has had a hand in it,” grumbled Slipitsky, who was getting -more worried as he considered the matter. He was -reluctant to ask too many questions, for he supposed there -might be angles to the situation which the Kirsakoffs -would prefer not to discuss.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Katerin was becoming alarmed by Slipitsky’s -doubts. She realized well enough that there had never -been any proof beyond Ilya’s word that the American had -come seeking them, and that Ilya himself had been dependent -upon what Rimsky had said. But she did feel -that there was protection of some kind for them in the -bare fact that an American was under the same roof with -them now, and that Zorogoff might not dare persecute -them openly or take them from the hotel. She was determined -to appeal to the American, but she wanted time -to make her own plans. What she feared now was that -Slipitsky, by his suspicions and doubts, would put her -father back into his mood of dejection and discouragement. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>So she laughed gayly and served her father with -tea and the cold partridge.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall find some way of talking with the American,” -she declared to Slipitsky. “You must help me in some -plan.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can go to him and tell him that I know where the -Kirsakoffs may be found,” suggested the Jew. “He will -tell me, I think, at once, if he seeks you or not.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am not so sure,” said Katerin. “He may not want -to discuss a secret with you—he will be suspicious of any -person who talks with him about us, if he is trying to -find us unbeknownst to others in the city. He might -deny that he seeks us, and thus we should be deprived of -his help.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” said Slipitsky. “The owl says little but -thinks much, so what he knows is his own, which is wisdom. -We need not fear the American—I wish there -were more of them here. But this old fox of a Rimsky! -It would be well to know what he is at.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Michael. “You cannot go running to a -stranger and saying you know where we are hidden. And -we cannot go to him and make ourselves known till we -know for sure that he is seeking us. The matter will -have to be arranged with more care.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, Excellence, the wolf knows the forest and its -ways,” said the Jew. “We must be wise about it, for -there is no tax on wisdom. It would be well for me to -bring Rimsky to the house and question him about what -he knows—and what he said to Ilya.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You say you do not trust Rimsky,” said Katerin. -“You say he is a liar—and may be a spy for the Ataman. -Even if the American asked Rimsky about us, -Rimsky might lie about it—and even if he tells the truth, -whatever he says we will mistrust it. And we must be -careful that we do not set his tongue wagging in the city. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>Till we have thought more about it, we must be most -cautious.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then shall I ask the American about it, mistress?” -asked the Jew.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, thank you—I shall go and see the American -myself.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“See the American yourself!” gasped Michael in astonishment.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I shall see him,” replied Katerin calmly. “That -is the simplest and best way to learn what we want to -know.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is sensible,” agreed Slipitsky.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You mean that you will go and tell him who you -are?” demanded Michael, his horror intensifying at the -idea the more he realized that Katerin meant what she -was saying.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He may know who I am when he sees me,” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It must not be done, my daughter,” said Michael, his -agitation only growing. “We can trust no one, especially -not a strange man who comes from whom we know -not. This is no time to be rash, and I cannot let you put -yourself into danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If this American has come seeking Michael Kirsakoff -and his daughter, will he not have descriptions of us? -And if he is not seeking us, how is he to know who I am? -I shall not tell him my name, you may be assured of that, -unless he knows me—or unless he tells me that he seeks -us. So what can the danger be, my father?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There is some truth in what you say,” admitted -Michael, as he resumed eating the partridge. “If he -knows you, he knows, and that would mean he has come -from friends. But if he does not recognize you, and he -does not tell you that he is seeking us, what have you -learned? And how are you to go talking with a man you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>do not know? I tell you you must not take risks on what -Ilya has said!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is wisdom,” assented the Jew, nodding his head -slowly. “You must always test the ice before you walk -upon it, else you will find yourself in the river with the -fish.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Tell me, where is the room of the American?” asked -Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The other way—down at the end of the hall with -windows that look up the Sofistkaya, mistress.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Can you put us in rooms near him?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, mistress, I could. When Dazo goes out later in -the day, it can be accomplished secretly. Is it that you -intend to watch the American? You will see little of -him if he keeps to his room as he has.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What good would it do us to watch him?” asked -Michael. “It would tell us nothing to see him going -and coming.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Katerin. “But I wish to be near him for -protection in case the Ataman’s officers come here. Now, -have you a servant for us who can be trusted not to talk -about us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, mistress—a sister of my cousin. She waits -upon some of the Ataman’s officers who live in the house. -It is she who will bring you your samovars and your food. -She is safe—not too much sense and little to say to any -one.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then this is my plan,” said Katerin. “If you will -contrive to put us near the American officer, the next thing -will be to take care that when the American rings for a -samovar the girl does not take it to him, but brings it to -us. And I shall carry the samovar to him. He, thinking -I am but a samovar girl, may talk with me and I may learn -if he seeks among the people of the city for a man by the -name of Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>“A Kirsakoff a servant! You, Katerin Stephanovna, -a samovar girl in this hotel! How can you think of such -a thing?” cried Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin laughed merrily and tossed her head, already in -a mood for the plan which she had evolved. “I would -not be a samovar girl because I play at it, my father,” -she said. “What is it but fun? Who can help the Kirsakoffs -better than God and themselves?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I say you are not to be a servant!” objected -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Better a living servant than a dead aristocrat,” replied -Katerin. “What harm can come of it? Is it not -wise to be known here as a servant? We have come here -as peasants and wish to be known as such for safety. -Look at my old black dress! I have on my slippers—see—and -I can let down my hair. How will an -American know that I am not a samovar girl—unless, as -we have said, he recognizes me at once as a Kirsakoff? -And I can talk with him, perhaps. He will not be afraid -of saying things to a girl who is a servant which he -would keep from others.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what then?” asked Michael with a frown. “Do -you think that this American is going about telling his -secret business to any samovar girl? Fi! You must -take him for a fool before you have seen him!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am afraid that he will know you are not a servant, -if I am allowed to say my opinion, mistress,” said the Jew -dolefully.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But he is an American,” persisted Katerin. “He -probably knows little Russian. But what I wish to -learn at once is whether he will know me for a Kirsakoff. -And if he does not recognize me, and yet sees that I am -not of the servant class, all the more reason why he should -suspect that I might know the Kirsakoffs. So he might -ask me if I know them. Why should he not ask a samovar -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>girl, when he has asked old Rimsky for General Kirsakoff? -Do you think I will only take his food to him and then -run away without a word?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what else can you do?” asked her father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall talk to him—of the weather, and the troubles -that have come upon the people. And if he does not tell -me why he has come to Chita, I shall try and learn it from -him. Can he speak Russian, do you know, Mr. Slipitsky?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He must speak a little,” said the Jew. “He is alone, -and he has made his way about. He talked with Dazo, -who knows nothing but Russian, the stupid ox. But the -American wrote in the book in English and I could make -nothing of it—just a scrawl.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then he will be able to talk a little with me,” said -Katerin. “At least, enough so that I may gain his confidence -and be able to talk with him in a way of gossip -about General Kirsakoff who was Governor here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“By the Prophets!” said Slipitsky. “The mistress -Katerin Stephanovna should be in the secret police, Excellence! -It is all a good plan, and the mistress should be -allowed to have her way in it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I wish there were some other way to go about it than -this business of being a samovar girl,” said Michael as -he lighted a cigarette. “We shall know how wise it all -is when we see what we shall learn by it. But I shall not -prevent its being done, for we are in danger enough, and -making danger for you, my friend.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Think not of my danger,” said the Jew.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then I shall do it,” said Katerin. “We cannot delay, -and we cannot take outsiders, like this man Rimsky, -into our confidence. Our safety now depends upon keeping -secret where we are, and upon making the best of -such time as we have. Who knows when the Ataman -will learn where we have gone from the house? And you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>shall be well paid for your help, Mr. Slipitsky, and for -what you have done.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, it is not for money,” said the Jew. “When are -you to begin as samovar girl, mistress? I must make the -arrangements and be sure that everything is ready.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The morning is the best time for me to go to the -American,” said Katerin. “I shall take his morning -samovar to him, the girl bringing it to me first. And -I shall go on serving him till I have learned what I need. -And if he should not tell me before he is to leave the city, -I shall tell him that we wish to escape the city under his -protection. Surely, we need not be afraid of an -American!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” agreed Michael. “He cannot be from enemies -if he is not from friends. But it is best to learn what we -can first, and you must have a good rest before you begin -a battle of wits.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Jew left them again, and later in the day he put -Michael and Katerin into two rooms next to the room in -which Peter was resting and planning how he should deal -with Michael Kirsakoff if he could be found in Chita.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XIV<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE SAMOVAR GIRL</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>IT was nine o’clock by his wrist-watch when Peter got -out of bed that morning. From what he could see -of the city through the frosted windows, it was a -cold gray day, with the position of the sun above the -ridge of hills marked by a yellow blotch through the scattering -fog.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The room was cold and he dressed rapidly. He rang -at once for a samovar, and began shaving. He had made -up his mind to make definite efforts this day to trace -Michael Kirsakoff, for he was now rested from his journey -on the train. He thought of Rimsky. It might be wise -to go in and see the graybeard again, and pick up once -more the conversation and the gossip. In time Rimsky -would be willing to talk more freely, Peter was sure.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The samovar girl was slower than usual in coming. -Peter rang again—three times, and with as much insistence -as he could put into the pressure of the button. -He finished shaving, and had a mind to go out to the -dreary dining room and see what could be done about -getting some hot tea there. It was apparent that the -stupid and slatternly girl who had been serving him could -not be depended upon for prompt service—and he was -beginning to suffer from the cold.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When he had decided that he should wait no longer, -there came a knock at the door. He opened it—and -stared! For instead of the peasant girl who had been -serving him since his arrival at the hotel, there was a tall -young woman with a beautiful face—a patrician face, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>the face of a woman of noble lineage! And he was -startled, though he was too well trained in his business -to reveal his amazement to her. Still, he paused for an -instant, not sure that she had not mistaken the room and -had not come in response to his ringing. He looked at -her over the top of the big brass samovar which she bore -on a tray before her, and her keenly intelligent blue eyes -met his with a self-possessed and frank gaze. He half -expected her to mutter some apology and go away. Instead, -she stood gazing at him, waiting for him to make -way for her, and the trace of a smile came into her eyes, -as if she felt like saying to him, “Here is your samovar! -How do you expect to get it if you stand all morning in -the doorway?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter bowed slightly, and said good-morning with an -effort to be casual. In the second which he had stood -stock still looking at her, a suspicion had crossed his -mind—this well-born woman had not taken the place of -his unkempt serving girl without good reason. It was -quite possible, and quite in the Russian style, to send an -attractive woman to serve him and spy upon him. Very -well! He decided that he should play a little at that game -himself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Good-morning, master,” Katerin replied modestly, -and came through the door when Peter stepped aside to -admit her. She smiled as a matter of duty, and went -about her business of placing the samovar and the breakfast -things on the table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter went before the big mirror on the wall between -the windows and pretended to be combing his hair. He -wished to conceal from the new samovar girl his close observation -of her, and he could watch her image in the -mirror without appearing to pay any special attention to -her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin wore her old black dress. Peter knew at once -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>that it was not a cast-off garment such as might be given -to a serving girl by a woman of the upper class—it was -obviously her own garment, cut and made especially for -her. Though the material was old, he knew it for fine -stuff, probably imported. A real American might have -been deceived into the belief that this woman was nothing -but a servant; Peter, however, knew that such a delicate -face, such fine features, such a carriage of a proud head -were to be found only among the nobility of his native -country. If she had been sent to watch him, he knew -that whoever had sent her could not know that he was a -native Russian—it was presumed that he was an -American so unfamiliar with Russia as to be easily misled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He smiled as he watched her. She handled the crude -dishes as if they were of the most fragile china or of -fine glass. She put down the heavy blue sugar-urn -gently; she transferred the tea-glass, which was made -from the bottom of a bottle, from the tray to the table -with infinite care. She laid out the old brass spoon beside -the heavy plate on the dingy cloth as if instead of -being brass it were of the finest silver.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He noted her hands. The fingers were slender—and -clean. The nails were polished. Her black hair, braided -down her back and tied with a bit of velvet black ribbon, -had a sheen which indicated the care which had been -given to it. And the low collar of her gown revealed the -fine texture of her skin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Having arranged the dishes on the table, Katerin stood -with her back to Peter, hands on hips and watching the -teapot atop the samovar. This was all in startling contrast -to the abrupt manner of the other girl, who had -dumped the things down upon the table and departed. -This new girl seemed suspiciously solicitous about the comfort -of the American—and was possessed of plenty of -time for lingering in the rooms of guests!</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>Peter walked to the table, and sat down with his back -to the window. She remained standing before the -samovar in thoughtful attitude, disregarding him. He -saw that her face showed traces of strain—a pallor -which was not natural to her skin and a gauntness about -her eyes which gave her a sad and melancholy expression. -Presently she picked up the blue sugar-urn as if to put -it better within his reach.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah!” said Peter, rubbing his hands and smiling up -at her. “On cold mornings like this one the song of -the samovar makes pretty music in our ears!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was an old saying of his father’s—and Peter spoke -the Russian words with casual rapidity, for he wanted to -see what she would think of him—an American who spoke -Russian as only one born under the Czar could speak it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The sugar-urn slipped from Katerin’s fingers and -crashed down upon the metal tray, spilling the sugar. -And he heard her give a startled gasp. A look of utter -astonishment came into her face and she gave him a -frightened stare. The Russian words had put her into -a swift panic—she was more than astonished—she was -actually alarmed at hearing her own language flow so -freely from the lips of a man she supposed to be an -American.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have I frightened you?” he asked, looking at her -with feigned concern, and speaking gently. “Do you -fear the sound of your own language?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are Russian,” she said simply, but with the -faintest trace of a question in the words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, no, I am an American,” he replied easily. -“True, I am of Russian blood.” He smiled at her, and -she looked away from him swiftly, renewing her efforts -to save the sugar which had been spilled from being wet -in the bottom of the tray. He saw her fine white skin -show a sudden flush of color that rose from her throat -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>and mounted slowly to her cheeks, tinting the pale skin -under her eyes. He thought now that she was more -beautiful than he had at first realized.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is it because I am Russian that you show fear?” he -went on.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She tossed her head a trifle, as if in defiance. “I do -not fear you,” she said lightly, and gave him a shy smile.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I would be sorry if you did.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is very pleasant—that we may speak to each -other and understand. I was surprised—yes. Now, -there is your sugar, and I must go.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, please!” he objected as she turned as if to go -to the door. “Everybody is surprised to hear the American -officer speak real Russian, but no one stops to talk -with me—and I am hungry for talk—talk in Russian. -I have only just come, and the other girl would say only, -‘Yes, master’ and ‘No, master,’ and run away frightened, -just as you are about to do.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I am not frightened,” she said, pretending to -bother with the teapot on the top of the samovar.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But just now, at hearing your own language, you -dropped the sugar dish. Is it not true?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was joking her now in an effort to get on friendly -terms with her. But she still appeared a bit distrait, -as if she had not yet recovered from the shock of hearing -a foreigner speaking the Czar’s Russian.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I was startled,” admitted Katerin, and now -smiled at him frankly, though she gave him a searching -look—the silver bars on his shoulders, the buttons of his -blouse, the circle of brown tape at the cuffs of his tunic. -“And you would be surprised, American, if a samovar -girl should speak to you in perfect English.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Probably I should,” said Peter. “As it was, you -surprised me this morning—I was expecting the other -girl to come.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>She said nothing to that. She realized now that it -would be foolish to expect him to think of her as of the -servant class, and had already given up all ideas of making -a pretense.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And as for Peter, he was beginning to abandon his -theory that she was a spy. There was probably some -other reason for her being a servant. He was chiefly concerned -now with making her a friend, for the thought -crossed his mind that this girl might be able to give him -information about Kirsakoff, though the subject of the -former Governor would have to be approached with great -caution.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The other girl could not come this morning,” she said. -“But I shall not always bring your samovar—my work -is on the other floors.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I hope you will, though it is too bad that you have -to work as a samovar girl.” This was direct angling for -enlightenment as to why she was serving as a samovar -girl—he wanted to give her a chance to set herself right -with him. If she did happen to be a spy, it would make it -easy for her to improvise a history for herself and so -find it easy to talk with him and deflect his suspicions—if -she thought he was suspicious of her true status. He -knew it was quite possible that she was a refugee who had -turned “worker” for protection against the wrath of -the masses toward the wealthy.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“People once rich are now poor,” said Katerin, and -looked at him significantly. She was hoping that he -might take this hint, and by a closer scrutiny, recognize -her as Kirsakoff’s daughter. In that case, he would make -it known to her that he had come from friends to find her -and her father. But, as a matter of fact, Peter had forgotten -that Kirsakoff had a daughter—except for a -little girl.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And it is necessary now that you work?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>“It is most necessary. I must have food and shelter -by some method.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are working here—as a samovar girl—for -food and shelter? Is it as bad as that with you?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Why not I as well as others?” she asked simply, with -a shrug of her shoulders. “And others have fared worse. -What better could I do while I wait—for friends—to -send help to me—and my people?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once more she gave him that steady gaze which she -thought would add meaning to her words, but though his -face was serious, not a glimmer of understanding did she -see in his eyes. She thought it strange that if he had -been sent to rescue her father and herself he could not -grasp the meaning behind her words and her glances. -Surely, he would have been shown a picture of her, or -have a description of her from friends which would cause -him to recognize the daughter of Michael Kirsakoff easily. -There were not so many young women of her age, education, -and appearance in Chita, she knew.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She turned her eyes from his, and colored again, embarrassed -by having looked so long and steadily into the -eyes of a stranger. She drew him a glass full of hot -water from the samovar for a fresh glass of tea and by -this means covered her sense of having appeared too bold -with a strange man.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So you are waiting for help to come to you, eh?” -asked Peter. He pitied her—yet he was still reserving -his judgment about her. It was possible that her story -was only to mislead him as to her real motive in bringing -the samovar to his room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin smiled sadly. “Yes, I wait for a chance to -get away from the city. We have sent letters to friends -in Harbin and in Vladivostok—weeks ago, months ago. -We are not sure that they got the letters, for we have had -no answer. Yet we hope some one will come to help us. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>Perhaps—<i>they will send some one to us</i>,” she added with -special significance and looked at him again with intent -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was puzzled now. He saw that she was trying -to make him understand something without putting it into -words—it might be that she was seeking to learn for -some other person what his object was in coming to Chita. -Or he had been mistaken for some other person who was -expected.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Why do you not go to Vladivostok yourself?” he -asked, evading saying anything that bore upon what he -was thinking. “The trains are running. Is it lack of -money that prevents you from going?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, not money,” she said, and then with a glance at -the door, she lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Do -you not know about the Ataman Zorogoff who is in this -city?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I have heard of him. I hope to know more about -him. The Americans want to help the people. Perhaps -you will tell me about Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter thought that was enough for him to say about -Zorogoff. He did not care to commit himself on the subject -of the Ataman—did not wish to betray any antagonism -toward the Mongol ruler. The Ataman was a -man to be wary about, and Peter had no intention of taking -this girl into his confidence as to where he might stand -in any matter which involved Zorogoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin suddenly clenched her hands. “Do the -Americans think they can help us if they remain in Vladivostok?” -she demanded with passion. Then she lapsed -back into her easy manner as suddenly as she had blurted -out her feelings, and turned as if she would go.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Please wait!” he commanded. “This is something -that it would be well for me to know.” Then dropping -his voice as she paused and looked back at him over her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>shoulder, he went on, “You mean that the people are -oppressed by the Ataman Zorogoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She returned and stood before the samovar, as if settling -in her mind what her answer should be.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I think I had better not talk about the Ataman,” she -said finally. “He is not a safe subject for discussion by -a poor and helpless samovar girl.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Tell me,” he urged, bending forward and speaking -confidentially, “are you in danger from the Ataman?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She gave him that quick look again, as if she were not -quite sure that he could be trusted. “It is better for -me not to talk of the Ataman—but I am a samovar girl -here for my own safety—till some one comes for me—<i>and -my father</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once more he understood that he was to get some meaning -from her words. He noticed that a sudden change had -come over her—there was a softer look in her eyes, as -if she had abandoned all thought of using any artifice with -him and was on the verge of giving him her confidence. -Her eyes seemed to burn with a kindlier light for him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was right about Katerin. She was at that time -strongly tempted to tell him who she was. She watched -him with a quivering expectancy, waiting for him to whisper -to her that he was the man who had been sent by her -friends to find her and Michael Kirsakoff. But when he -said nothing and observed her without any sign that he -had comprehended her meaning in words or looks, she -felt a fear that perhaps she had gone too far in her attempts -to enlighten him as to her identity.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you live here—in Chita?” he asked. It was in -his mind that this was a good time to test her as to whether -she might have any knowledge of Kirsakoff. He realized -that if she had her home in Chita, she was of the class -who would know the former Governor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin’s lips moved as if to reply, but she did not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>speak. She had recovered her caution. She wanted to -evade the answer, for once more she had built up a mental -resistance against him and was beginning to be afraid. -She realized that if she pretended to be a stranger in the -city she would defeat his purpose if he had really come -from friends, by misleading him. If she told him that she -was a stranger in the city he would be thrown entirely -off the track and never suspect that she was Katerin Stephanovna -Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have been in Chita long enough to know it well,” -she said. “And I have been here long enough to be willing -to go, too.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you have friends here,” he said. “You must -know many of the people—the wealthy people, that is.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They are almost all gone—or dead. Most of them -are in Vladivostok, or in hiding here. But we cannot get -away now—it is impossible for us to leave by ourselves. -We wait for our friends—<i>to send us help</i>.” That should -be plain enough for him, she thought.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How would they send help?” he asked. “You mean -that they would send soldiers?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps they would send a man who would be able -to take us away from the city—they might even send a—foreigner. -A man Zorogoff would not dare to hinder -from going with us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter now had full understanding of her searching looks, -her broad hints about help, and her surprise at finding -that he spoke perfect Russian though supposed to be an -American. Also, he saw her reason for coming to him as -a samovar girl—unless she was really a spy delving into -his object for being in the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am sorry I have been so stupid,” he said. “You -must think I am a fool—but I am not a messenger sent -by your friends.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin was standing at the far end of the table from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>him, close by the door. He saw her turn pale, either with -sudden fear of him, or great disappointment that she had -revealed to him that she was expecting a messenger. She -was calm enough, but he saw that his admission that he -was not the expected messenger, chilled her with some -unaccountable terror.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was this that had terrified Katerin: This American -now denied that he was seeking her father—but where -had Ilya gotten the word that an American was hunting -for Michael Kirsakoff? And this American was really a -Russian! Could it be that instead of being a friend, or -from friends, he was in reality an enemy? What could -this man want with her father? she asked herself. He -could not have come from friends, else he would have easily -recognized her. And if he had asked Rimsky for the -whereabouts of Michael Kirsakoff and was willing that -the old cigarette-seller and Ilya Andreitch the pig-killing -<i>moujik</i> should know that he was seeking Kirsakoff, why -was he not willing that she should know of his quest? -She saw that he was willing to ally himself with peasants -but withheld the object of his coming to the city from -aristocrats. She saw that she had failed in misleading -him as to her class. He gave his secrets to peasants—thus -he must be an enemy to her father and herself!</p> - -<p class='c009'>She laughed suddenly, as if all that had passed between -them had been a joke. She must change her tactics and -get his secret. She must not arouse his suspicions as to -her identity now, but baffle him in every way, for if he -were not a friend he must be a new menace to her and her -father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Of course you are not the messenger,” she said, and -returning to the samovar, took down the teapot, shook it -swingingly and looked into it. Her face was flushed -again under the excitement of what she had discovered -about him. “Come! Have another glass of tea, please—<i>master!</i>” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>She gave a joking twist to the last word, -and threw back her head and laughed gayly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But it is too bad if you have been expecting a messenger,” -said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, it is nothing. Everybody in Siberia is waiting to -hear from friends! You Americans! You are too serious -about everything—what does it matter if you be -not the man?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Peter <i>was</i> serious. He almost wished now that he -had led her to believe that he was a messenger. For he -was afraid that she would go away and he would see her -no more. He wanted to see her again and again, and in -time bring their conversation to the subject of the former -governor and get from her some information as to where -he might look for Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is it true that you are in danger?” he asked. “That -you must get away from the city?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We are all in danger here,” she retorted. “Trust -no one—the city is full of spies, and you must be careful -what you say—even what you say to me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I think I could trust you,” he said conciliatingly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Please don’t trust me. I would rather not have any -secrets. The greatest danger in this city is in having a -secret which some person wants. I prefer to know nothing -and be safe.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps I could be of help to you,” said Peter, having -an idea that by offering protection he could gain her -confidence and learn from her where Kirsakoff might be -found. “I am an American officer, and if I should employ -you for my government no one would dare threaten -your safety.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps you could help me,” she said thoughtfully. -“But I know little about you—what part of Russia are -you from?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter hesitated. It would not do to tell her he had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>been a boy in Chita for that news would start gossip, and -he would be under suspicion at once if Kirsakoff were -killed. He drank some tea before he answered the question.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, I have not been in Russia for years—I left Kiev -when I was a boy. Come! What is your name? We -must be friends if we are going to go into these matters.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is your name?” she countered.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Call me Peter—that is my name.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Peter! That is no name for a Russian. What are -your other names?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Peter Petrovitch.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She laughed at him with a touch of saucy insouciance, -and lifted her shoulders as if she put small faith in the -name. “What is your generic name?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Gordon, but I hoped you might call me Peter Petrovitch—it -has been many years since I heard it thus. -You make me forget that I am an American, I, who am -Russian.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She turned toward the door. “I am afraid that I -must go now,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He rose from his chair and moved after her. “But -you have not given me your name.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Call me Vashka.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But that is no name for a Russian,” he insisted. -“The generic name, please.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That will do for now—it is good enough for a samovar -girl.” She moved toward the door, but lingeringly, -as if she had other things she would say but refrained from -saying them at this time.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, but I know you are not really a samovar girl,” -he said seriously. “You are a lady, and I shall be happy -to help you and serve you if it is in my power. Promise -that you will come back to me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps I shall come,” she replied, and smiled over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>her shoulder at him. She felt unable to cope with him -at this time, knowing that Ilya had said he sought her -father. She knew that before she talked with him further -she must consider the matter and consult with the sagacious -Slipitsky. “You are very kind,” she said, smiled -again, and went through the door.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter bowed as she disappeared, looking back at him -from the hall as if fearful that he would run after her -and see where she went. But he closed the door, and stood -smiling at himself in the big mirror—smiling over his -thoughts of the amazing samovar girl he had found in -Chita!</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XV<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE TRAP SHUTS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>SLIPITSKY was with Michael when Katerin returned -from Peter’s room. The old Jew was consumed -with curiosity about the American, and worried -for the safety of his guests, for he sensed menace in the -stranger. Schooled all his life in the secret intrigues -among exiles and living in an atmosphere of spies and -counter spies, he had an astounding mental perception -in devious ways. The fact that Rimsky and Ilya, two -peasants, had knowledge of the American which pointed -to some hidden purpose in his arrival in the city, was -proof enough to Slipitsky that something was seriously -wrong. The chasm of caste in Siberia prevents an officer -from dealing with the lower class of peasants—unless -he is using them for an advantage against his own -class. To the Russian, an officer comes from the upper -classes, so the idea that Peter could have ever been a -peasant was beyond the comprehension of Slipitsky or -Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin slipped into the room quickly and fastened the -bolt of the door. Slipitsky rose from his chair and -turned to her inquiringly, but she put her finger to her -lips for caution. Michael was sitting on the bed. He -saw the trouble in Katerin’s face, and knew that she could -not bring the good news which they had hoped for—that -the American had come from friends.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is the word?” whispered Slipitsky. “What -says the American?”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>“He is a Russian!” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Holy Saints!” gasped Michael, astounded, and his -head began to shake with excitement.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Russian!” exclaimed Slipitsky, looking at Katerin as -if what she had said exceeded all probability. “How -could he be a Russian? Is it that he has come to my -house dressed as an American and is really a spy?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“All I know is that he speaks the Czar’s Russian,” said -Katerin. “He has not come from friends,” and then she -went on and hastily told them how she had given Peter -every hint that she dared, so that he might understand -who she was, and that he had denied being sent to Chita -to help anybody.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then that fool of an Ilya was lying!” said Michael -wrathfully. “He has made fools of us! We came here -expecting to find a dove and we have found a hawk. Ilya -had sand in his brains! It was all done to fool us and -get money! An American who is a Russian—what good -can he do us?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hah! A riddle!” said the Jew, and he rubbed his -hands and drew himself a fresh glass of tea. “Now we -must consider what it all means, Excellence! The rope -is tangled and we must find the end of it!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael sat for a few minutes with his eyes screwed up -against the light from the window, his wrinkled old face -twitching nervously. Presently he got up and began to -pace the floor in his stockinged feet, hands behind his -back, his shoulders bent forward in dejection. His weak -knees bent beneath him as he shuffled about. His body -quivered with excitement and his eyes glowed as if he -were racked by a fever.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin sat down by Slipitsky, and stared at the floor -in reflection, seeking to piece together in her mind again -the whole time of her visit to Peter and to gauge the value -of what both of them had said. If only Ilya were still -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>alive and could be questioned as to how he had learned -that the American wanted to find her father!</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He knew at once that I was not of the servant class,” -said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Only a Russian could do that,” mused Slipitsky. “It -is all very strange,” and he wagged his head slowly and -thoughtfully as he puzzled over it. “Did he tell you why -he had come to Chita at all?—did he say nothing of his -mission to this place?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Nothing. Yet if Ilya spoke the truth, Rimsky was -told why the American had come. Why does he trust a -<i>moujik</i> and hide his purpose from me?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It would not be wise to have too many in the secret,” -said the Jew. “He knew you were not what you pretended -to be, and was careful. The man who rides a tiger -cannot get off, and this Peter Petrovitch from Kiev is not -too trusting. I give him credit for that, though we would -like to know his business.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He is an enemy!” declared Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then we shall know in good time,” said the Jew. -“An awl cannot be hidden in a sack.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A Russian from America—the worst of all,” said -Michael into Slipitsky’s ear, as the old general came and -hung over the Jew’s chair. “They come back here from -America with their accursed ideas of liberty! And what -do they do? Kill the Czar and ruin the country—turn -it over to the Mongols! Old friend, we have an enemy -on our hands who is a greater danger than the Ataman. -And we have brought trouble to you and your house.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We are all in the same boat, Excellence. If we lose -our wits, we are lost. I am no worse for your coming, -and you are no worse. The thing to do is to weigh and -consider—and in time settle with this fellow who calls -himself an American officer but hunts with peasants.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin was discouraged. She had set her hopes on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>the American’s coming to solve their problems and relieve -them of the danger from the Ataman. But now they -were involved in a new puzzle, and could not see their way -out of it. For more than two years she and her father -had managed to save themselves, but now it seemed that -all their bravery, all their devices and stratagems had but -pushed them further into a trap. Life had become an -intolerable nightmare, and the trifles of daily existence -had become a burden. It seemed easier to die than to -go on with the struggle against the madness which had -come over their world.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael went roaming about the room again while -Katerin and Slipitsky sat in thought. He gazed abstractedly -at the furniture, as if he expected to find in it -some astounding quality which he had never noticed before. -After he had walked about in this way for several -minutes, he returned to his position between the chairs of -his daughter and the old Jew, and leaning down between -them, whispered, “We must rid ourselves of this man! -We cannot live here under his nose and wait for him to -strike. He is a Russian hunting me. That is no new -thing—but it proves he wants me for no good. We must -poison him!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, no!” said Katerin, taking her father’s arm and -pulling him toward her. “We cannot kill a man just because -Ilya said Rimsky told him the stranger was seeking -you—we must learn from Rimsky what we can, as -much of the truth as we can get.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I say that, also,” declared Slipitsky. “It must be -done. I shall send for Rimsky and question him so that -he will not know the reason for my questions.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What! You will let Rimsky know that we are here?” -asked Michael, alarmed at the idea.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, Excellence. But I can comb him for what he -knows. A few drinks of wine and he will be as putty in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>my hands. You must trust to me to solve this riddle.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then it is well,” said Michael. “But I am resolved -upon one thing—we must do away with this American, -no matter what Rimsky says.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall send for Rimsky at once,” said the Jew, rising -and going to the door. “Be careful till I have had -a talk with the old liar.” And with a gesture of caution, -Slipitsky drew the bolt and disappeared in the hall.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin secured the bolt, and sat down again, her hands -clenched in her lap. She felt that she was at the end of -her resistance. Yet she went on trying to think of some -way in which to learn from Peter the truth of why he -had come to Chita. There was no reason to fear him, -so long as he did not know who she was. And there was -a chance that the talk that he had come for her father -was all foolishness, or a shrewd scheme to play upon the -fears of herself and her father and gain money. In that -case, she saw that the American might be a protection—that -he might take them from the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall go back to him and talk,” she said to her -father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You shall go back to poison his samovar,” said Michael. -“I have a feeling that this man knows already -who you are, and is blinding your eyes. You must end -his life!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Would you have me murder an innocent man on the -word of Ilya?” she asked, making talk now only to keep -her father’s mind engaged and prevent him from the despondency -which threatened him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This man is an enemy!” insisted Michael. “We cannot -risk such a menace. We have trouble enough with -the Ataman, and I speak only for your own safety. Oh, -Katerin Stephanovna! I care nothing for my own life! -It is you I would save. I would sell the days I have left -to live if they could be turned into years for you, my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>daughter. I would die this minute, if I could loan you -life!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old general put his hand on her head and caressed -her gently, his eyes full of tears and his body shaking -with his sorrow for her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I know, little father,” she whispered, taking his hands -in hers and kissing the withered skin. “But your life is -dear to me—so dear that I would do as you say to save -you to me. But I cannot believe that this young man intends -to harm us. He is a Russian, true enough, but -have you lost faith in all of our people? And this Peter -Petrovitch appears to be kind and gentle. You and -Slipitsky think in the old ways—only the old thoughts -of violence and death. This man has been to America -and he may not be an enemy at all. But if it is true that -he is seeking you out for evil, then we must be sure of that -before we do anything against him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how are you to find it out? Can you go to him -and tell him that I am in the next room and ask him what -he seeks me for? Do you forget that he is using peasants -to trace me?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall learn his secret,” declared Katerin. “A -woman has her own ways for such things—if he hunts -you, he shall first tell me, and the why of it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, you women trust too much,” said her father. -“This is a matter in which no time must be lost with wiles. -We must know before the Ataman finds——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I, too, think of the Ataman,” put in Katerin. “What -if the American, though an enemy, should protect us -from the Ataman?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael gave her an incredulous stare. “Impossible!” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But it is not impossible,” insisted Katerin, who already -had the inspiration of a sudden way out of the -difficulty. “What if I should tell this American that I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>am seeking Michael Alexandrovitch? Would he not confide -in me then? And if both of us are seeking you, it -is not likely that he will keep his secret from me—especially -if I should admit to him that I plan to have your -life.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael sat down upon the bed, speechless for a moment -at the boldness of the plan.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Holy Saints!” he whispered after a minute. “You -would do that, Katerin Stephanovna? That is something -worthy of the best of the Czar’s police! Ah, but -you will be playing with fire—you will need your wits at -every instant.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, I shall need my wits,” said Katerin. “I am -willing to play with fire, and match my wits against the -stranger. And when I learn what I want—then we shall -need our wits all the more.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am old and my head is addled,” said Michael. -“Sometimes I think I must be going mad—here I am, -who was governor, hiding in my own city, helpless and -with——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>There came a cautious knock at the door. Katerin -went to it, and heard Slipitsky’s voice outside. She let -him in—and with him was Wassili!</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You stupid one!” exclaimed Michael at sight of the -old <i>moujik</i>. “Why have you come here? The Ataman -will——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky made frantic signals for quiet, and when he -had shot the bolt behind him, threw up his hands in an -attitude of resignation.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili was wrapped to the eyes against the cold, and -stood dumbly waiting till he should be asked what he had -come for.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This is the last of us!” whispered the Jew. “We -shall all be killed now! Zorogoff has been to your house, -Excellence—and he told Wassili where you were—here -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>in my house—the floor and the room! So poor Wassili -has run away with the warning that you are discovered.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael’s head sank upon his breast, as if he now submitted -to fate.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We must go at once!” said Katerin. “We cannot -let you draw the wrath of the Ataman because you are -hiding us, our friend! We shall prepare to go at once!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Go!” said the Jew. “You shall not till I am dead! -We can all die together, mistress. Let the Ataman come, -I say, and may he die with ten thousand devils dancing -before his eyes!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Truth! Let him come,” said Michael. “You are -here, Wassili, now stay with us. Let Zorogoff come, and -by the Holy Saints he or I shall be carried out of the -place on a board!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And perhaps the American will be glad to meet the -Ataman, eh?” said Slipitsky. “We may as well bring -him to the test, now that the Ataman knows where you -are. We are riding a tiger, and we may as well pull his -ears!”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XVI<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>KATERIN’S STRATAGEM</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER found himself enmeshed in a maze of conjecture -about Vashka. He knew that she was -not a samovar girl, yet it was quite possible that -she had been compelled to become one for her own safety. -But whatever her purpose might be, it was apparent to -him that she had expected to find in him a messenger—and -that the expected messenger would be an American -officer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>As Peter studied the matter, he saw that she would not -know the expected messenger by sight, but would have -to submit him to some test. It was plain enough that -she had been greatly disappointed in Peter, for he had -seen in her face signs of actual terror when she realized -that she had blundered with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was the possibility that some other American officer -was expected in the city which worried Peter. Such an -event might well interfere with his plans for killing -Kirsakoff. Peter did not want it known to the American -army that he had stopped in Chita—at least, only casually. -He did not want his presence in the city, nor the -time, established too well. He hoped to flit away to -Irkutsk and report himself there without any mention of -having been in Chita. Then he could come back, report -himself in Chita and go on to some other city. In this -way he wanted to establish the fact that he had been in -Chita, but make it appear that his time in the city had -been after Kirsakoff had been killed rather than during -the period of the former Governor’s death.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>But it might take Peter a week or more to find Kirsakoff, -and then it would take time to work out the details -of the affair in such a way that there would not be the -slightest indication that the American officer who had been -staying at the hotel had had anything to do with it. But -another American officer in the city would complicate the -business. The newcomer would expect to keep in close -touch with Peter, and would probably expect to share his -room—and the stranger might have a Russian-speaking -orderly with him. And that would mean that Peter’s -facility with the language would be discovered, his request -to be sent over into Trans-Baikailia would become significant, -the leaving of the orderly at Nikolsk would build -up a chain of circumstantial evidence. All that might -be awkward for Peter if some slight trifle connected Peter -with the killing of Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter wondered if he would see Vashka again. It -seemed a remote possibility that she would return. Why -should she? She knew now that he was not a messenger, -and to visit Peter again could do her no good and might -reveal to him the line on which she was working. There -was a slight chance that she might be in the American -service, but he dismissed that thought, for she had given -him no sign that she was a member of the military secret -service. His mind being occupied along a certain channel, -he had no basis on which to begin to analyze the aims of -Vashka. The key to the solution of the problem, for him, -was old Rimsky. But that Rimsky was in any way concerned -with the visit from Vashka, was as remote from -Peter’s mind as would be a suggestion that the samovar -girl was the little daughter of Kirsakoff. That little girl -still lived in Peter’s memory as a child sitting in a sledge -the morning Peter’s father had been killed. His mind -held that picture—held it without change. It was a -picture which did not take cognizance of the passage of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>years, a butterfly caught in amber, say, through the ages.</p> - -<p class='c009'>If Vashka did not return, Peter resolved that he would -go out and try his hand again with Rimsky. The old -cigarette-seller might be induced to tell something which -would afford a clew of the whereabouts of Kirsakoff. -And it might be wise to loaf in the restaurant of the old -post-house, and strike up an acquaintance with anybody -who would talk. There was no time to be lost, if Peter -was to find Kirsakoff and get about the business which -had brought him back to the Valley of Despair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When noon came, he rang for a samovar. Before long -he heard some one moving in the hall, and after a short -interval, there came a gentle tapping at his door.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come!” he called, and turned his head. “Vashka” -entered with the samovar, pushing the door open before -her with the forward end of the metal tray.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, I am sorry,” he said, rising from his chair. “I -did not expect to see you—I thought the other girl -would come.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She smiled at him, quite gay and playful now, with a -trace of coyness in her manner. She seemed amused at -him because he had not expected her to return.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Would you feel sad if I never came back? Would you -miss me so much?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Of course I would miss you,” he replied, not sure what -else would be safe to say. He would have preferred some -light pleasantry which would answer her more in keeping -with her mood, but he was afraid that she might resent -gayety on his part, even though she affected it herself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then I may presume to say that I am the favorite -samovar girl of the American.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And it would not be presumption at all,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He moved and closed the door after her, while she -busied herself at the table with the samovar. He had a -mind for an instant to lock the door and to demand that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>she give an explanation of herself and her reason for -coming to him in the guise of a servant. But he smiled -at his own Russianism—his impulse to do the dramatic -thing. He decided to draw her out in a more careful -manner. One thing he was determined upon—to settle, -as far as possible, her motives in playing servant.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How long since you have seen Zorogoff?” he asked, -going close to her and standing so that the light from -the window fell across her face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? Why, not so long ago.” She looked at him with -curiosity as to why he had asked the question.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have you seen him since you were here?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She laughed lightly. “If I had, it is quite likely that -I would not have come back.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then I’m glad you did not see the Ataman. And -please don’t see him, if it is going to mean that you will -come no more.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what you -mean—but it appears that there is an implied compliment. -Do you mean it as a compliment?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What other things could I mean?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You might mean many things.” She shrank away -from him now the least bit, as if she distrusted him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter sat down in the chair at the end of the table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what might I mean, for one thing?” he asked -with a quick glance at her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You—you might mean—that you are suspicious of -me, and that would make me feel sad.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She stood, as if half intending to flee from the room, -and observing him in wonderment.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Suspicious! Why should you be under suspicion?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Everybody is under suspicion—no one trusts another -here,” she replied.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No doubt you have suspicions of me—because I -speak Russian,” he countered.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>“I am not sure of you,” she said frankly. “What have -I but your coat to prove that you are an American -officer?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have no more than I have to prove that you are -a samovar girl. Oh, come now! Let us not play with -words! What did Zorogoff say when he learned that the -American officer speaks good Russian?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She straightened up suddenly and her body seemed to -grow rigid. He heard the hiss of her breath, and then an -hysterical laugh came gurgling from her lips.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So that is it!” she cried. “You think I am a spy -for Zorogoff!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>There was no mistaking the revulsion which she felt. -Peter knew now that she was sincere.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t think so now,” he said. “But if I trust you, -I must know that you are not a spy. You know that I -am not the messenger you are waiting for, yet you have -come back to me. I am glad that you came—but why?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Because death threatens me,” she replied. “And -Zorogoff is my danger. I seek your help.” She uttered -the words in a low monotone, but with an intensity of -feeling which startled Peter. He got up and went to the -door quickly and turned the big brass key in the lock—and -pocketed the key.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Does that mean I am your prisoner?” she demanded. -But there was no fear in her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Sit down, please,” said Peter gently, ignoring her -question. He made a gesture toward the chair at the end -of the table opposite his own.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin—“Vashka”—obeyed, willingly, it appeared. -But her readiness to obey was not so much submission to -his will as he supposed. She knew now that Peter had -come seeking her father, though the reason was still a -mystery. She was determined to solve the mystery and -learn his secret.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>Slipitsky had gone to Rimsky shortly after Wassili -arrived at the hotel with the news that Zorogoff knew -where the Kirsakoffs were hiding. The old cigarette-seller, -alarmed by the fate which had overtaken Ilya, -went into a panic of fear when Slipitsky charged him with -knowledge of the American officer’s purpose in coming to -Chita.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Jew charged Rimsky with knowing more than Rimsky -did—and Rimsky lied. He attempted to put the -burden of the affair on Peter. Ilya was dead, so Rimsky -felt safe in lying. And, in fact, he did not know exactly -what he had said to Ilya over the vodka. So to clear -his own skirts, Rimsky made the flat statement that the -American had asked directly where Kirsakoff might be -found. It was a lie—yet it was the truth in so far as -Peter’s purpose was concerned.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Thus the story of Ilya was verified. Katerin and her -father knew Peter sought them. And Katerin had been -tempted to reply to Peter’s demand as to why she had -returned to his room, by demanding why he had come to -Chita. She refrained because she did not expect that -Peter would tell her the truth in case he was an enemy. -She intended to get at the secret by more devious methods.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Now, you must trust me,” he began, in tones barely -audible to her. “You have already told me that you -are in danger from Zorogoff—which indicates that you -do trust me to some extent. Why do you fear Zorogoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Because he has already threatened me with death—and -worse,” she replied, calmly. “He is half Mongol. -I do not fear death itself, because if he should take me -from this place, I have poison——” She slipped back -the cuff of her sleeve, and showed Peter two white capsules -held in the hem of the cloth by thread sewn in loosely.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So that is it!” said Peter, looking into her eyes and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>seeing the truth in them. His face began slowly to change -from an expression of startled comprehension of her -plight, to anger; he drew his lips back upon his teeth, and -the rising anger glittered in his eyes. “The Mongol -dog!” he whispered. “Can he dare—with a Russian -woman—a woman like you!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He saw relief from strain come into her face, and she -clasped her hands together in a quick gesture of joy -at his understanding and sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So that is why I came back here to you. You were -a Russian, and I knew you would understand—and an -American officer.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He took her hands and kissed them, with head bowed, -after the Russian fashion, as an act of fealty and respect.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t know what I can do,” he said after a minute. -“But I do know that if Zorogoff dares touch you, I -shall stand in his way. True, I am a Russian—as this -Mongol shall learn.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” she said simply, withdrawing her hands. -“You cannot fight an army, and Zorogoff has many men -to do his bidding. You would be helpless against him. -He is not a man to allow a single American to thwart -him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not fear him,” said Peter. “I doubt if he would -dare kill an American officer.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She smiled at his belief that Zorogoff could be checked -by any fear of the American army.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who would know who killed you, or when?” she -asked. “No, you must not risk your life for me. Zorogoff’s -hand would not be known if you were destroyed—and -I would not be any the better.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Does he know you are here—in this hotel?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, he has traced me. The city is full of his spies, -and there is a Russian behind his power—a Russian of -the old régime who is advising Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>“Who?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, you would not know him,” she said, with a shrug -of her shoulders. “I fear him more than Zorogoff, for I -know that that this Russian is a part of Zorogoff’s government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I should know,” insisted Peter. “If I am to -help you, I should know all the facts in the case, so that -I may inform my superiors. Who is this Russian?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He was a Governor here in the old days—before the -revolution.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter leaned forward across the table, keenly alert, -though he attempted to conceal his interest. “A Governor -of the old days,” he said slowly and softly, so that -the sentence was akin to a caress. “That is interesting. -I wish you might tell me his name.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She brushed her hand across her brow. “It is a dangerous -secret,” she warned.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He laughed lightly. “Dangerous secrets are my business,” -he said. “Learning them—and sometimes keeping -them.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“As I am in great danger because of having this secret, -you also would be in great danger from Zorogoff if you -had it. Remember, I caution you—Zorogoff will do -all in his power to prevent you from escaping Chita if he -learns that you know who is behind him and his government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I accept the danger,” said Peter. “Come—we shall -be in danger together! What is the name of this former -governor?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“General Kirsakoff.” Her eyes held his as she spoke -the name. She saw his eyelids lift swiftly, and heard him -draw in his breath slowly. His hands began to close into -fists, and the strong fingers sank into the palms while -the knuckles grew white as the skin was drawn tautly -across. He leaned back in his chair, and the little muscles -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>of his jaws stood out under the skin of his cheeks as he set -his teeth together. And there crept into his face a look -of exultation, of infinite satisfaction—she saw him -thrilled with the joy of the hunter who at last gets sight -of his prey.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter turned away from Katerin and glanced at the -window, but without seeing it. His face softened into a -smile, and he got up from his chair, crossed the room, came -back, and sat down again before her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Tell me more about this Kirsakoff,” he urged. -“What is his name?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Michael Alexandrovitch,” she said. “He is a man of -noble family—of old boyar stock. He ruled here many -years before the revolution.” Katerin pretended not to -notice the smile which was still playing at the corners -of Peter’s mouth—she looked at him casually as he sat -down again, but busied herself making squares and circles -on the tablecloth with her finger.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is Kirsakoff in the city—now?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I presume so. He spends most of his time here, but -he keeps well hidden.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you know where he may be found? Where he -lives?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It could be easily learned. What would be the good -of knowing?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It does not matter,” he said. “Still, it might be of -use to know. Do you think you could easily find out -whether he is in the city or not? How would you go -about it?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father was an exile here,” said Katerin. “He -was transported ten years ago, and I followed from Moscow -and lived in the Street of the Dames. My father was -a political—and he knows too much now about Kirsakoff -for our safety.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then your father is in the city?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>“Here in the hotel with me. We came here and hid -against Zorogoff—and Kirsakoff. That is why I came -to you when I heard there was an American staying here. -We knew we could trust you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She went on and told him how Zorogoff’s soldiers, and -the Ataman himself, had given her and her father the -mental torture with firing squads; of the threat of the -Ataman for revenge upon her for her insults, and the -flight from the house to the hotel when they heard that -an American was at the hotel. But she did not mention -Rimsky or Ilya.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And you have no way of escape from the city?” asked -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is impossible,” said Katerin. “Some of our -friends got away. But Zorogoff put the cordons round -the city after that, and then Kirsakoff joined with Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What kind of man is this Kirsakoff? What does he -look like?” asked Peter, set upon getting all he could -about his enemy.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin looked over Peter’s head, toward the window, -and thought for a second as if recalling the appearance -of her father. “He is a tall man, strong but not heavy,” -she said slowly. “A face inclined to redness—and black -mustaches. He is a soldier, of course, and stands very -straight.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Of course,” said Peter. He recognized the description, -for Katerin had described her father as he had -looked when he was in his prime. “Does he go about -the city? Could I recognize him by his uniform?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He was eager but cautious.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He might be found at the <i>sobrania</i> late at night,” -said Katerin. “But he will be well guarded. You -should be careful in approaching him, for he has a secret -bodyguard, as well as the officers who generally are drinking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>wine with him. He does not wear a uniform, but rich -furs, and he wears his pistols out of sight. He does not -always dress the same, for he has been a cruel man, and -is much hated by many people.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you know where he lives?” asked Peter, who was -taking care to conceal his eagerness to get all possible -details. He asked his questions with an assumed indifference.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, I cannot say. But I am sure my father knows. -But what good would it do you to know?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not any,” said Peter. “Yet I would like to find this -Kirsakoff. Where is your father?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Here—in the hotel,” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps it would be as well if I were to ask the Ataman -about Kirsakoff,” said Peter. “Yet I would like -to talk with your father, if he would see me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“By all means talk with my father,” said Katerin hastily. -“It would be fatal for you to admit to the Ataman -that you had ever heard of Kirsakoff’s ever being here, -or concerned in the government of the Ataman. That is -a secret they will conceal at any cost—and that is why -we are in danger, my father and I.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But Zorogoff would not know how I had learned about -Kirsakoff. And I might plead ignorance—I might even -test the Ataman by asking him if he knew where Kirsakoff -might be found.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have put my life in your hands,” said Katerin -earnestly. “If you mention Kirsakoff to the Ataman, he -will know that you have been talking with us here in -the hotel. And Zorogoff’s soldiers will come for us at -once.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She rose, rather agitated by Peter’s idea of talking with -the Ataman. The effect upon her was exactly what Peter -sought—for he wanted to talk with her father. If she -feared that Peter would go to the Ataman instead for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>information, she would make it possible for Peter to learn -more of Kirsakoff and his haunts.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not intend to increase your danger,” said Peter, -also rising. “Have no fear on that score. But I am -bound to find Kirsakoff in some way—unless your father -can help me I shall have to make inquiries in my own way.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It can be arranged that you talk with my father,” -she said, moving toward the door. “Is it really necessary -that you find Kirsakoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not necessary, perhaps,” he said. “But I strongly -desire to find him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I—I would like to know the reason.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will tell you that when you tell me where he may be -found,” said Peter with a smile.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She stood for a time looking into his face. He saw that -she was pale, and far more excited than her restrained -manner revealed to the casual glance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will ask my father if he will see you,” she said presently. -“He is very old and ill—he has been shot by -sentries—a bullet through both his cheeks, though he is -nearly recovered now from that. He is suspicious of all -strangers, and you must be patient with him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I promise to be patient,” said Peter. “If you will -arrange it for me——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ring for the samovar at five,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter held out his hand quickly, as if there were a compact -between them which must be affirmed. She gave him -her hand, and he bowed and lifted it to his lips.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Vashka,” he whispered, “do you wish to leave this -city?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If I could take my father with me,” said Katerin, -“yes, I would be glad to escape the dangers here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If your father will tell me where Kirsakoff may be -found—I shall take you both away.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, then we shall find Kirsakoff!” she said with a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>sudden return of her gay manner. “Please! I am your -prisoner here! Allow me to return to my father!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter unlocked the door, and she smiled over her shoulder -at him as she ran down the hall.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XVII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>SETTING THE SNARE</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_5_0_7 c022'>KATERIN returned to her father. She found him -sitting by the table playing a game of solitaire, -and he looked up from the patterns of the cards -with blinking, questioning eyes. She did not speak at -once, but her face was eloquent of the surprise and shock -she had suffered in her talk with Peter. She was coldly -calm, as if she knew now something of what was before -them, and was ready to meet the issue. A plan had already -formed in her mind, but it was not yet clearly defined -and she wanted time to think and prepare for whatever -was necessary.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What have you learned?” whispered Michael, leaning -toward her from his chair. “I can see that you know -much—and I doubt that it is good. Do you know why -this man has come?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I know,” she said, and sat down beside him and -drew herself a glass of tea. Her hands shook for all her -resolution not to betray to her father the fact that once -more they were blocked in their hopes of escape.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael waited till she had refreshed herself, and -Wassili, who had been making Michael’s bed and pottering -about the room in pretended busyness, came and stood -close to Katerin with anxious face, keen to hear what -the mistress would have to report of her visit to the room -of the American.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then Rimsky spoke the truth?” pressed Michael. -“It is true that the American came seeking me?” He -had already divined it from Katerin’s manner.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>“Yes, Rimsky spoke the truth,” said Katerin slowly, -and Wassili crossed himself and uttered a smothered exclamation -of satisfaction.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what did the American say?” urged Michael, -impatient to have the whole story. “Come! You hold -it back from me! Is his quest evil?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He is most eager to find you,” said Katerin, who was -reluctant to give the full story too abruptly. She was -trying to devise some way of giving the facts to her father -which would not be too abrupt and alarm him to rashness. -And she wished to have her own plan worked out -mentally so that she might have it to offer against the -startling import of what she had learned from Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“For what purpose?” insisted Michael. His head was -beginning to shake faster, as it always did when he was -in an excited frame of mind. He reached for a cigarette -from a tin box, and his hands shook so that he dropped -the tiny tube of tobacco.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am not sure yet,” said Katerin. “That is something -I have still to learn. All I know now is that he is -not a friend—that he means evil to you and we must -be careful. We must do nothing to stir his suspicions -of who we are, till we have gone to the bottom of what -brings him here and what he hopes to do.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We know enough!” said Michael. “He comes for -evil—and I shall kill him!” The old general’s agitation -disappeared as if by magic. The scent of danger steadied -him, he thrust his chin out and squared his old shoulders, -sitting back in his chair as if it were all settled now and -all that remained for him to do was to go out into the -next room and kill Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, no,” said Katerin hastily. “Nothing must be -done too soon! First, we must learn more about him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He is an enemy, that is enough,” said her father. -“Wassili, a match!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>“Yes, he is an enemy,” admitted Katerin. “But we -are not in a position to attack an enemy now; besides, -what good would it do us to kill him, if we do not know -anything about him? First, as I said, it is my business -to draw his secret from him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili held a flaming match forth to Michael. “Master,” -said the <i>moujik</i>, as he applied the flame to the cigarette -between Michael’s lips, “I am quick with the knife—I -can strike a good stroke, and no one will be the wiser, -for I can have the body carted into the forest. Then -you and the mistress will be free from his danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If we do well, we can use this man to protect us from -the Ataman,” put in Katerin. “Though he seems to be -a menace, he may in fact be so twisted to our use that he -will be our salvation.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A man who is an enemy! Protect us? Are you -talking madness, my daughter, or have my wits become -addled by age? I shall not allow a man who is my enemy -to save me even if he would or could. No, no, I say it—this -American—this Russian who calls himself an American—must -die. And no time lost in the matter, let -me say!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I say you are wrong, father,” insisted Katerin, -putting her hands on his knees. “If he does not know -who we are, what difference does it make to us or him if -he is an enemy. The thing for us to do is to make -friends with him—and fool him into the belief——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But he will know me!” protested Michael. “You -expect him to talk with me—even see me—and not -know who I am? That would only be putting our heads -into the maw of the lion! I can tell you this, my daughter—I -shall strike first, while the advantage lies with -me!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Truth!” exclaimed Wassili excitedly. “The master -speaks truth! And I am the one to attend to the task!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>“But he will not know you,” pleaded Katerin. “He -thinks of you as you were years ago, in the days -when you were Governor, while now you are an old man -in the rags of a peasant, with——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, he will know, he will know! We must not trust -to ice so thin! I shall not turn my horse loose too soon -when danger is over the hill. I may be old, but I have -not lost my cunning with my enemies, I hope.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You forget that our lives depend upon our deceiving -this Peter Petrovitch, my father.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I think our lives depend upon his not seeing me till -I am ready to strike,” argued Michael. “What would -our lives be worth if he were to come in here now and -see me? A beggar’s kopeck—the turn of a hand, the -call of a quail in the brush! P-fooh! I know!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But we have no time to spare. The Ataman’s men -may be at the door at any minute. Before that we must -win this stranger to our side, and before he can discover -who we are, slip away with him to Vladivostok—to Harbin—to——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Vladivostok! You expect an enemy to take us to -Vladivostok? To Harbin? Why, I would sooner, than -that——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“He wants to find you. What if I tell him you may -be found in Harbin? Or Vladivostok?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael thrust aside a cloud of smoke that had gathered -before him, and squinted his eyes at his daughter, as if he -really doubted her sanity now.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how could you find me in Vladivostok, when I -am here in this rat-hole in Chita? Truly, my ears -hear strange words. They are not worth a last year’s -egg.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You do not understand. If this stranger looks to -me to help him find Michael Kirsakoff, and he does not -know you for Michael Kirsakoff, what is to prevent our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>telling him that we can take him to some other city—to -find you?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael cocked his head to one side and pursed his -lips. Then a smile broke over his face as he began to -comprehend.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We have no time to spare,” pressed Katerin. “It -must be done before he can learn by any mischance who -we are. Once we are free of the city, his chances of discovering -our ruse diminish.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But how can he take us away, even if what you say -is true? The Ataman would prevent us—he would betray -us. There would be some slip—and we would be -in the hands of our enemy, or delivered into the hands of -the Ataman. We double our danger and gain nothing,” -objected Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Ataman would not dare stop an American officer. -We must chance that. This stranger would give his eyes -to find you. Very good, then! We shall fall in with -his desires and turn them to our advantage. We must -take him away under the pretext that he is to find you, -then in reality he will be aiding our escape from the city.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, but he would get to know me in time. My voice, -my looks, my way of speaking. If he has ever seen me -at all, he will know me. He may have my description—do -not be trapped by him. The wolf knows the color -of the hare he pursues.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I told him how you looked——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What!” cried Michael. “You told him how I looked -and you expect him not to know me?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How you looked twenty years ago, my father. And -he did not know the difference.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That was to blind your eyes to his purpose,” said -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And I shall blind his,” said Katerin, with sudden resolution. -“Wassili! Fetch me the cover of the pillow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>from the bed! And a knife—with a sharp edge!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili, with a puzzled look upon his face, turned away -to obey her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what is all this?” demanded Michael. “Am I -to be wrapped like a mummy and put into a bundle? Am -I to be carried about with a rope to my middle like a -handle?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall make sure that the stranger does not recognize -you—leave it to me, and we shall outwit this stranger -and come to safety.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you had better take good pains with it,” said -Michael, “for if he gives the glimmer of an eye that he -so much as thinks I look like myself, I shall kill him!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If that must be done, then it must,” admitted Katerin, -as she cut the edges of the pillow and began ripping it -into long strips. “But your face must be hidden from -him, for he might see something in you that would remind -him of you in the old days. We must take care against -such betrayal.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what are these rags for?” demanded Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A bandage about your face to conceal you further.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, p-fooh!” said Michael disgustedly. “What nonsense -is this, that I should be wrapped up like a Turk? -How the devil am I to talk or breathe or eat my soup? -I’ll have none of it—I, who was a general of majesty!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have had a bullet through both cheeks,” said -Katerin. “Come, please! Hold up your head—these -cloths will only keep your teeth warm against the cold. -That is my dear father—and remember, it is to save us. -Better this chance than to sit here and wait till the Ataman -sends Shimilin for us again. Come!” She held up -a strip of the cloth.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Are you going to tie up my face as if I were an old -beggar with boils?” demanded Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>“Trust to me, my father. When the lion is stricken he -must still roar, that his enemies will be misled. You have -said that to me many times. Trust to my wits—and -we shall see.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He puzzled over it for a minute, and then threw back his -head in submission. “I shall not stand in the way of -your safety,” he said. “I leave it in your hands. My -heart is brave, but the years have put chains upon my -body,” and he sighed wearily.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Without more ado, Katerin wrapped the grizzled old -face with the strips of cotton. They passed over the top -of his head and down under his chin. His eyes, nose, and -mouth were clear of the cloths, and his ears stuck out -oddly behind the wrappings. The white hair on his chin -gave him a more aggressive look than usual for his beard -was thrust forward by the bandage. The scant hair on -the top of his head stuck up, and wavered as he moved, -like the crest of a bird.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin leaned back and studied him with critical eye -when she had finished.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It will serve well enough,” she said finally. “If he -knows you now, he would know you in spite of anything -we could do. And now listen to my plan. You have -been a political here for the past ten years—and you -hated General Kirsakoff, who was a cruel Governor -and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael gave a snort of wrath and wrested the bandage -off over his head and threw it upon the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will have nothing more to do with this madness! I -was not cruel—I was but just! And I shall not blacken -my own character! Not an inch shall I give to my -enemies on that score—I, who was a general in the army -of majesty!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin laughed heartily, and picked up the bandage. -She knew better than to take her father seriously when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>he was in such temper, and she also knew that she should -gain her end if she were patient with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I only say what the American thinks,” she explained. -“If he already thinks that of you, you do not damage -yourself. And what a joke! A joke that will save us! -General Kirsakoff telling how cruel Governor Kirsakoff -was! Would you not fool this stranger now, to laugh at -him after we have lost him in Harbin where we are safe?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili sneaked away into a corner to laugh discreetly, -his shoulders heaving with suppressed merriment over -the wrath of Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Be still, you, Wassili,” growled the old man, turning -to look after the <i>moujik</i>. “By the Saints!” he cried -to Katerin. “You see how it is? Am I to be made into -a buffoon for my servants in my old age? Am I to be -turned into an actor in a play, a silly clown of a fellow -to make the country folk giggle into their drink? Am I -to forget what figure of a man I was——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You forget my danger,” she chided gently.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I forget nothing!” he retorted. “It is I who am -remembering that I once was Governor here!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you remember the Ataman Zorogoff?” she asked, -with sober face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, and I’ll dance on his grave—but I’ll not have -my head wrapped up like an old woman doing a penance.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Very well, then we shall do nothing more, but wait till -the Ataman comes. Then we can take the poison of -honor.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin sat down by the table and threw the loops of -the bandage from her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael looked at her, and an expression of infinite -tenderness and love came over his face. His lips quivered, -and he struck several matches violently without getting -a flame. He threw the last one to the floor, and held out -his hands to her.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>“Forgive me, Katerin Stephanovna—I did forget. -But now I remember, and I see what you are striving to -do. It is true, what you say, and we must play with this -American. And if we take good care, it may all come -out as you say—it will be a way out of our danger and -our troubles. Come, please! Put on the rags, and I -shall be the best old exile ever was seen, one who is fleeing -from the wicked Governor—from Kirsakoff! Please! -Again the bandage, and I’ll be good.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, little father, there is another way to fight without -using swords and guns. There is a way to gain your -ends without your enemy’s suspecting that he is pushing -your cart.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She gave her attention to putting the bandage back.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I grant the truth of what you say,” said Michael. -“But what will Slipitsky say to this? He is a shrewd -fox, and there is many a twist in a game of this sort that -he knows—he has helped many a man to escape from me, -for all his friendship for me in the old days. Never did -I dream that we should have to resort to his cleverness—but -the fox takes his wisdom where he finds it, and that -is why we say that he is wise.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It does not matter what Slipitsky thinks of it. We -cannot leave all the tricks to our enemies. And you -must have faith in me, if I am to work this out so that -good will come of it, and we get away from the soldiers -of the Ataman.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I’ll trust you, my daughter. By the Saints! You -should have been a man, Katerin Stephanovna!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And perhaps if I were a man, we should both be dead -by now,” said Katerin. “This is a war of wits, and we -women have had to use our wits for many years. And -if those in the high places had heeded the women, Russia -might not have come to what she has.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is good that there are wits between the two of us, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>for mine are gone, my daughter. I am a hindrance. I -am but a millstone about your neck, else you would have -escaped from Chita long before this.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You won’t be a millstone if you will obey what I -advise in this affair with the American officer. If we -cannot go through with this thing, it is better not to try -our hands at it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have no fear—I’ll say black is white if it does you -any good,” said Michael, now once more with his face -trussed in the bandages.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Listen well to what I say,” cautioned Katerin. “And -you, too, Wassili. For if we fail, we have not one enemy, -but two—this stranger as well as the Ataman. And -if we succeed, we have none, for one will save us from the -other. What better can we ask than that a man who is -an enemy should deliver us from danger?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Give me two enemies, if that can be done,” said -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Mind what must be done. Our name shall be Natsavaloff. -You were banished for plotting against the government -of the Czar. First, we must learn why the -American seeks Kirsakoff—for he may not be alone in -his reasons, but have others who are equally dangerous. -We must get to the bottom of why he seeks you, though -the reason does not matter for our purpose. We shall -have Slipitsky’s advice, too, before we bring the American -to this room to learn where Kirsakoff may be found. And -we are not to tell the American where Kirsakoff may be -found unless he takes us to the city where we shall say -Kirsakoff is hidden—anywhere, it does not matter, so -long as we get away from Chita.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how is Wassili to help in all this?” asked -Michael. “Where lies his task?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“When we bring the American here, Wassili shall stand -behind his chair. We must be on our guard against the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>stranger every second, and if the American should recognize—or -make a move to draw a weapon——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili finished the sentence for her in pantomime with -a quick and eloquent gesture—a short thrust, done -quickly, and an explanatory grunt.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And you, my father, shall have your little pistol in -your hand, and the blanket thrown over your knees to -hide it—so that you shall be able to defend yourself. -But do nothing rashly—unless he should know you, we -must not do him harm.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili was sent for Slipitsky, and the Jew came. The -four of them went over the whole plan of escape in case -Peter should not recognize Michael. They spent the -afternoon in taking up every possible angle of the situation. -And on one thing they agreed—if Peter really -proved to be a deadly enemy, and should recognize Michael—then -the American officer must die.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XVIII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE TRAIL GROWS HOT</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER spent the afternoon walking the floor of -his room, his whole being in a glow from the fever -of revenge which had flamed up brightly within -him while he listened to “Vashka”—the name by which -he knew Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Peter’s inner fury was directed against his own -mental image of Kirsakoff—a picture revivified and given -new clarity in Peter’s brain by Katerin’s description of -her father as he had been in the old days. Peter killed -that man over and over again in imagination. He knew -that it might take weeks before he could so shuffle the -combination of circumstances that Kirsakoff might be -slain with the greatest margin of safety for himself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Through the years, Peter’s hope for vengeance had -become to him a holy mission. There had been times -during his life in the United States when he realized that -he might never return to Siberia in time to carry out his -dream of vengeance. But the old hatred had smoldered. -Now it was burning at white heat.</p> - -<p class='c009'>What had been his own selfish desire was now transformed -into a patriotic fervor to help his own people. -The old tribal spirit of the Slav had come to life again -within him when he encountered the mad ecstasy of liberty -among the people in Vladivostok. He longed to have -some hand in the great emancipation which had been -brought about by those of his race. He was determined -to join the orgy of destruction. And now he saw his -own personal revenge coupled with the troubles of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>old exile and his daughter. Not only would Peter become -the savior of the beautiful Vashka and strike a blow -to thwart the new tyranny of Zorogoff, but his own father -would be avenged. Katerin personified for him the Russia -which must be saved, just as Kirsakoff personified the -Russia which must be destroyed. For Kirsakoff, a survivor -of the old autocracy, was plotting with the Mongol, -Zorogoff, to defeat the purposes of the revolution and once -more bind the people to the wheel of slavery. The old system -was evil, and no vestige of it must remain. That was -the aim of the people, and Peter believed in it. His mind -had never grasped the thought that in the background of -events there might be a new autocracy throwing sand in -the eyes of the people to enslave them with new fetters -which were not yet visible. “Destroy! Destroy all who -do not work!” was the cry. And as work was defined -for the mass of the people, it meant common labor—and -the laborer lacked the ability to think about the consequences -of killing all who might be able to divine the -purpose behind the cry for destruction. And Peter was -trapped into thinking only of the past and its evils, without -looking into the future of a race which allowed only -its serfs to live.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He thought only of the fact that he had been rescued -from Siberia and sent back with the power of avenging his -own wrongs. And as he prayed for success, he crossed -himself with both hands, in the way of the people of old. -The deep well of mysticism and emotionalism which so -often had swept the Slav into action without the cooler -previsions of those races which had gained the beginning -of their freedom in the Dark Ages, now shook Peter’s -soul. He was living again in the stark horrors of his -boyhood—living over again the bitter morning when -his father had been struck down in the street. These -memories he hoped to blot out by slaying with his own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>hand one dragon of the old autocracy—Michael Alexandrovitch -Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael would be well guarded, and wary. But his -vigilance might be relaxed by artifice. Peter had not -yet formulated his plan, but there would be many pretexts -for getting closely in touch with Kirsakoff. Peter -might even represent that he had come to enter into -secret negotiations with Kirsakoff on behalf of the American -government. That was one of the many possible -plans which flitted through Peter’s brain. But the business -would require care in preparation and good judgment -in its execution. All impulses toward prompt decision -must be put aside—it would be a patient waiting -for the minute which promised success without attaching -the slightest suspicion to Lieutenant Peter Gordon of the -American army.</p> - -<p class='c009'>That could be done only after a period of slowly acquiring -the confidence of Michael. Peter would have to build -up a pretended sympathy with the old régime and its -adherents, and show a willingness to aid Zorogoff and -Kirsakoff in gaining the friendship of the American forces—even -plan to aid in betraying the people of Russia in -their aspirations for freedom.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter saw himself dining with Kirsakoff as a guest of -the general; he built in his imagination a succession of -secret conferences with Kirsakoff, and then, perhaps during -an evening over wine and cigarettes, a whisper to -Michael, “Do you know who I am in truth? Peter Petrovitch, -son of Gorekin the bootmaker——!” and then the -bullet and the escape.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter could see Michael turn his horrified eyes upon the -smiling American officer who was really the son of an exile. -Gorekin the bootmaker! Michael might not remember at -first. How could a Governor be expected to carry in -his memory a poor unfortunate, and a boy of twenty -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>years before? But Peter would make Michael remember. -There must be time for that so that Michael should know -by whose hand he died. That would be necessary if Peter -was to have his complete joy in his vengeance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When the sun had dropped over the crest of the hills, -and the frost was gradually creeping upward on the panes, -etching a thick tropical foliage upon the glass, Peter -went to the window and looked out over the Valley of -Despair. The little hut of his boyhood was merging -slowly into the shadows of the taller buildings about it. -Tiny sparks appeared in the white smoke rising from the -hut’s stone chimney—Rimsky was evidently feeding the -fire-pit for the night.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stood by the window musing on the bitter days -and nights of the exiles long dead and forgotten—on the -staggering columns coming in afoot over the Czar’s road -to a living death, on the clanking of chains and fetters, on -the screams in the nights as some cabal of exiles “roofed” -one who had betrayed some breaking of the rules to the -guards, on the barking of rifles as fugitives were hunted -out of the hills.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Chita had become a city. It was built of the tears and -anguish, of bodies destroyed and minds wrecked, of hates -and cruelties, all mixed with the bricks and logs of its -walls. And limitless legions of human beings had been -poured into the wilderness and their bodies used as fertilizer -to build up a new empire for the rulers of Russia.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, you cry for justice!” he said to the spirits of -those who had suffered. “The time has come for justice—you -have waited long, but to-morrow will not be as -yesterday!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He turned from the window and took his belt and pistol -from the writing table and strapped them about him. -Then he turned on the shaded droplight. It threw down -upon the cloth of the writing table a yellow cone of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>radiance. It was now five by his watch. He rang the bell -thrice—the signal for Vashka, as Katerin called herself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He sat down by the table and waited. The sound of -people walking about in the hall furtively, came to his -ears, with the careful opening and closing of doors and -snatches of conversation. He heard the strains of an -old Russian air played on a violin by some one on the floor -above, and the regular pounding of feet as if the steps -of a Cossack dance were being tried intermittently.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It was the hour of the evening when the people in the -hotel began to bestir themselves for the gay times of the -night. They kept hidden during the day, and went -abroad under cover of darkness to the restaurants of the -city, to return to their rooms in the early morning.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The men who lived in the hotel were mostly officers who -were attached to the Ataman’s army, judging from those -Peter had seen about the halls. The women were a flashy -lot—women who had drifted up the railroad from Vladivostok -or Harbin, and women of the sort that has the -best of everything in times of famine and disorder. They -were the parasites who seem to thrive best in times of -disaster, and who get the most out of life when there are -no laws of restraint. When they have acquired some -amount of treasure, they are robbed and abandoned.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin was at the door in response to the signal by -bell with amazing promptitude. She entered without -knocking, and closed the door behind her softly. She -stood for a minute, a vague shadow in the gloom outside -the zone of the shaded lamp.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter rose and moved toward her. “Thank you for -coming,” he said in a low voice in keeping with her -secretive entrance. “Have you persuaded your father -to tell me what I wish to know? Will he help me in my -quest?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If you still wish it,” she replied. “Please! Take -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>the shade from the lamp—the darkness is not pleasant.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter caught a note of melancholy in her voice. She -seemed to be discouraged, and his own hopeful attitude -was somewhat chilled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Has anything gone wrong?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, not unless it is wrong for us to involve you in -the same dangers which face us. My father appears reluctant -to put you into a situation the full danger of which -may not be apparent to you, a stranger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter laughed merrily to cover the sudden fear which -he had felt that she might recede from her promise to help -him find Michael Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have no fear,” he said. “There may be danger, -but I am glad to help you. I shall attempt to find Kirsakoff -in any event—and may well run into more danger -than if your father should tell me how to go about the -job. So when it comes to that, my danger is only increased -if you do not help.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps you are right,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He went and lifted the shade off the lamp, and stood -revealed in his uniform in the flood of light. The silver -bars on his shoulders glittered as he leaned over the lamp, -but Katerin’s eyes rested upon the brown boxlike holster -at his hip.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He swung round upon her, smiling. Now he saw that -her gay mood of her former visit had vanished—her -eyes seemed sadder and the light revealed the pinched -pallor of her face. She was suffering from strain long -endured, he saw, and a twinge of pity tugged at his heart.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He went and pulled down the decrepit window shades, -and then slapped his pistol. “Here we have the power -of America!” he said. “Behind me is an army. Come! -It is not a time to be sad! America is here, and that -means justice to the oppressed!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>She sat down in a chair, and smiled at him, in a brave -attempt to be merry with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“America must be a wonderful land,” she said. “I -have heard much about it, and read much about it. But -there are many who say it is no better than our own -Russia.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What!” cried Peter. “You must not be misled. -America is a land of magic! Look at me, a poor Russian -boy who was the son of an unfortunate here in the Valley -of Despair, and in a few years it transformed me into an -officer, and sent me back to help my own people—and -to help you, Vashka.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And in time you will go back to America,” she said. -“Like all Russians who have been there and return to -their own land, you will once more go to America.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes. I shall go back when Russia has her freedom. -But what did your father say? Have you persuaded -him to help me about Kirsakoff? You have not -told me that.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father is discouraged. You must not be annoyed -if he is slow and cautious with you, who are a stranger. -He has said that he doubts if one American officer can -fight the army of Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But he must remember also that I am a Russian. -Does he think I will hide behind my American coat, and -allow Kirsakoff and Zorogoff to destroy you? I may be -only one, but behind me is the American army, and Zorogoff -must give heed to that.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But if Zorogoff’s men should kill you? We have -seen terrible things here—men are shot down crossing -the street if they are opposed to Zorogoff. And who is -to know who fired the shot if you should meet such a fate? -Then, if it were known to Zorogoff that we had helped -you, it would be the worse for us, with no one to protect -us.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>“True,” said Peter, “but it is one thing for Zorogoff -to terrorize a girl and a helpless old man, and quite another -for him to frighten or kill an American officer—or -defy the American army. He is aware of that, and he -will be careful with me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But your soldiers are in Vladivostok.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is near enough to make Zorogoff think twice. -In time he would have to pay the shot. And once we have -found Kirsakoff and I have attended to my business, we -shall leave the city.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are brave,” she said simply, with a look of -admiration.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He shrugged his shoulders. “It is you have been -brave. It is easy for me to talk, with an army at my -back. Please—tell me one thing—are you expecting -an American officer to come here and meet you and your -father?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She looked at him in surprise, as if trying to understand -what meaning might be behind his question. She locked -her fingers together, and took her time before replying.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, we are not expecting an American officer. Our -friends may send help to us. That is why I came to you—any -newcomer in the city might bring word from friends—might -be seeking to get news to us from friends.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She laughed suddenly in comprehension of his meaning, -and went on hastily. “We who are beset clutch at any -straw—and you were a straw. Yet was I not wise? -For you have said you will save us—you would even take -us away, or——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin stopped abruptly, and looked into the light of -the lamp. Her eyes showed more animation now, and -Peter found himself admiring the patrician poise of her -head. She turned away from his gaze, and shivered -slightly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Or what?” he prompted.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>“Or you would even kill Kirsakoff for us—rid us of -one of our enemies.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What makes you think I would kill Kirsakoff?” he -asked. “Have I said anything to make you believe -that?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” she admitted, returning his gaze for an instant. -“You have not said that. But if my father is to help -you find Kirsakoff, you must first convince us that you are -an enemy of Kirsakoff. It will be a secret for a secret, in -the old way of bargaining among the exiles. We have -trusted you much, but how do we know what your purpose -is in finding Kirsakoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter frowned at the floor and considered what she had -said. He had not counted on having to take any one into -his confidence. He did not doubt that he would be able -to find Kirsakoff on his own account, if he had plenty of -time. But his time in Chita was not at his own disposal. -An American officer might come through the city and -report that he had seen Peter; before very long, Peter -would be compelled to go on to Irkutsk and report himself -from there, or go down the line of the railroad. And -once in touch with Vladivostok, he knew that orders might -come from headquarters which would compel him to -appear in some other city without delay.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And what damage could be done by telling this girl and -her father his reasons for wanting Kirsakoff? They, -themselves, feared and hated the Governor, who was again -in power. They could be trusted not to betray him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What you say is fair enough,” he said finally. “I -think I can convince your father that I am the friend -of anybody who was an exile, and that——” He was -about to add, “I am an enemy of Michael Kirsakoff.” -But he refrained. There would be time enough for that -when he talked with her father, and he was determined -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>that before he told his story, he should meet and judge for -himself the measure of confidence to be given to the old -man who had been an exile.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I should like to know your full reasons—for wanting -to find Kirsakoff,” suggested Katerin. She, too, was -wary.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You shall hear,” he said, “when I talk with your -father.” And he spoke with finality, as if there were no -use in going further with the subject.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She went to the wardrobe against the wall, and turning -to Peter, said, “Move this away from the door which -leads to our rooms—I got the Jew to bring us near to you. -Now we can pass from our rooms to yours without going -into the hall. It will be safer, for we cannot tell who -will see us if we have to use the hall.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That was wise,” he said, and going to the wardrobe, -he put his shoulder against it, and steadying it with his -hand, shoved it aside far enough to clear the door which -it concealed. When he had finished, she picked up the -shade of the lamp and slipped it back over the globe.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We are not known to the servants,” she said. “You -must be careful with our names—which are—Natsavaloff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps it will be well to avoid using any names,” said -Peter. “It might increase your danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It would, indeed,” she agreed. “Now, I shall go -round and free the bolt on our side—and take you to -my father.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin slipped into the hall, and Peter snapped out the -light on the table and waited in darkness. In a minute -he heard the rattle of the bolt on the far side of the -door, and then it swung open slowly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin stood before him, outlined against the dim light -seeping in from a farther room through curtains hanging -in a doorway.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>“Come!” she directed in a whisper. “My father is -eager to talk with you. But remember—he is very old, -and he is still in some pain from his wounds. And if he -is querulous, I trust that you will be patient with him.”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XIX<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>FACE TO FACE</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER stepped across the threshold of the open -door, and into the shaft of light spilling through -the partly curtained doorway of the room beyond. -Looking to the end of this vista of light, he saw the figure -of a man sitting in a chair by a table. The head and upper -part of this man’s body were only vaguely visible and -merged against the dark background of the far wall. -But his boots were silhouetted in the radiance of the -beams of the lamp which shot downward under the shade—boots -that looked grotesquely large and misshapen, for -their shadows were cast upon the floor in elongated outline.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin stopped at the curtained doorway, and by a -gesture, bade Peter enter before her. He went on, and -as he neared the lamp on the table, he saw that the figure -in the chair was a frail old man with his head tied up -in a bandage. And behind the chair, better hidden by -the gloom, was a man standing, whom Peter took for -a servant hovering over his master with watchful care. -Only the face of the <i>moujik</i> was plainly visible to Peter, -and his eyes shining with the reflected light of the lamp, -like two luminous pin-pricks, were boring across the -room at Peter. The tense alertness of the <i>moujik’s</i> posture -suggested an animal crouching for a spring.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin passed Peter, and approached her father. She -said, “Our friend has come to us,” and to Peter, “This -is my father.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s heels came together, and he bowed low. When -he looked at the old man again, the withered head, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>wrapped in the encircling bandage, was nodding gently -as if with a palsy. And the bent shoulders leaned forward -under a gray blanket, to peer at the visitor. The -right hand, hidden beneath the blanket over his legs, -seemed to be trembling, while his left hand lifted from his -knee made a motion toward a chair—it was a thin, -bony hand, more like a claw than a hand.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I bid you welcome, sir,” piped Michael, hoarsely. -“But I have little hospitality to offer a guest under this -roof.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“May God’s blessings fall upon you, sir,” replied -Peter, his heart quickened by sympathy with this pathetic -old ruin of a man—a man who, like his own father as -Peter thought, had suffered the life of an exile under the -cruel rule of the Governor, Michael Kirsakoff. Here, -Peter supposed, was another victim, in feeble senility, -still pursued and threatened by Zorogoff and the same -Governor Kirsakoff who had brought about the death of -Peter’s father, and thrown the boy Peter into a big prison. -And these thoughts fed the inward flame of hatred -which burned through Peter’s being against Michael Kirsakoff—the -very man before him, and on whom he had just -called for the blessing of God! Here was his enemy of -old, and he looked upon him, yet knew him not.</p> - -<p class='c009'>For a time the two men peered at each other, one knowing -that an enemy was before him, and one thinking that -he was in the presence of a friend. But Peter saw nothing -in the old man which brought to mind anything of -Michael Kirsakoff. Katerin, as Vashka, the samovar girl, -had so arranged the shaded lamp, and the chairs, that -her father’s face should not stand out clearly in light -against a dark background. Also the bandage hid the -jaws and cheeks of Michael in such a way that the old -man’s facial contour was blurred. Age had done much -to hide Michael, and Peter’s memory was clinging to his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>own picture of Kirsakoff of twenty years before. And -Peter had adjusted his mind to the finding of Kirsakoff as -a result of this interview, and somewhere beyond it, so -it would have been hard to convince him that Kirsakoff -was now before him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You come as an American officer, yet my daughter -tells me that you are one of us—a Russian who has -come back to help Russia,” said Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, and it is twenty years since I saw my native -land,” said Peter, as he sat down.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, it is a sad home-coming for one of the motherland’s -children,” sighed Michael. “They say now that -the people will rule at last.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin stepped to the table to draw hot water from -the samovar, which was so placed that she stood almost -between Peter and her father, though without preventing -them from seeing each other. She did not trust to her -precautions against Peter’s recognizing her father, knowing -that there were elements in the situation which might -bring on some mischance on the side of tragedy.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Wassili acted according to his instructions. As -Peter sat down, the <i>moujik</i> left Michael’s chair, and -offered the guest a cigarette from a tin box, lighted a -match—and remained behind Peter’s chair. Thus it appeared -to Peter that he was being tendered the usual -courtesies.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is true that times have changed, sir,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ay, they have, truly,” said Michael. “And some -say for the better. Perhaps. But I’ll not live to see it -all finished. I shall get no good from it. But we must -remember those who have died dreaming dreams for the -future.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” said Peter. “And this ground is full of such—we -must remember them, and it is our duty to see that -they did not sacrifice themselves for nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>“My daughter tells me that you know our story—that -I was a political here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“In the time of Kirsakoff, the Governor,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Kirsakoff!” said Michael. “Ah, yes, I had good -reason to know Kirsakoff. There are many waiting their -chance to settle with him, and he has but a short time for -this world. But one of the lessons we learned here, my -friend, was to bide our time—and I am waiting.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And Kirsakoff is in with Zorogoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That Mongol dog!” said Michael. “Have you -heard that he has visited upon my daughter and me the -silent torture? And that even now we hide from him? -Yes. Well, he has buried people to their necks by the -dozen, and then sent horsemen galloping over the ground. -But if God is good I shall live to see his head carried -about on the end of a pole!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And Kirsakoff stands behind him, I hear,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael exchanged glances with Katerin. “True, it -is Kirsakoff who helps him hold his power.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But it is dangerous to talk of Kirsakoff,” said Katerin, -as she handed Peter a glass of tea. “That is whisper -talk, and I warn you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” grumbled Michael. “Your life would be worth -little if you let it be known that you are in possession -of that secret. You are playing a dangerous game if you -wish to get close to Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But if he only knows me as an American,” suggested -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What! You, who speak the real Russian!” exclaimed -Michael. “Do not be fooled—he will know you -for a Russian!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can arrange that,” said Peter, with a smile. “If I -can find him, that is a matter easy enough to be handled -as the business needs.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael shook his head energetically.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>“No, no, my friend! Kirsakoff’s hand is hidden. -Your life would be in danger at once if you gave a hint -that you even know that Kirsakoff is in the city. Be sure -of that.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then I can pretend I do not know him,” pressed -Peter. He was somewhat disappointed by the resistance -offered by the old man.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You must remember, my father, that our friend has -reasons of his own for wanting to find the Governor. And -danger may not be a matter of concern.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter gave her a grateful glance for thus allying herself -with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If I were to tell you my reason for wanting Kirsakoff, -I am sure that you would say that it is good, sir. I have -waited many years to come back—and now I must not -fail. I shall find Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I should not like to be the one who puts your -life in danger,” said Michael. “You may not be aware -of all it means—this business of the Governor is not a -light subject. You will do well not to cross his tracks, -for he will strike at you through Zorogoff’s spies, and you -will never know who struck. One cannot fight an army—and -Zorogoff will not brook any interference. He will -destroy you like a fly upon his bread.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I court the danger,” said Peter, sipping his tea, and -willing to wait till the old man was in a humor to be more -communicative.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Governor has five thousand rifles at his back,” -said Michael. “You cannot know yet the full danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall go gladly to meet it,” persisted Peter. “It -cannot be any greater than my desire to find Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You would risk death?” asked Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Even death.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What! Twenty years in America, and you would -risk death to find Kirsakoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“What you say is true, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old man studied Peter carefully for a minute. -“You speak,” he said finally, “as if you had spent twenty -years in the Governor’s prison, instead of twenty years in -America.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I spent time enough in his prison,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin uttered an involuntary exclamation of surprise.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Here! You were in the old prison here?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I was,” said Peter, with a grim tightening of his lips.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But you are too young to have been an exile!” gasped -Michael. “If you had been one of—us, I can well understand. -There are many who have been here for long -years—they have known the chains, they have known a -lifetime in cells. And still, they have no stomach for -meeting the Governor face to face. That is because they -know Kirsakoff—and that he is not a man who can be -hunted like a rabbit.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I also knew him,” said Peter. “I doubt if I will -fear him, even if I come face to face with him—and he -knows me for a Russian, and by my true name.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh! So you knew Kirsakoff?” asked Katerin. -“Then it will not be so difficult for you to find him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I knew him too well,” said Peter, now beginning to fear -they would settle themselves against helping him to find -Kirsakoff, and seeing that he would have to take them into -his confidence if they were to be of any help to him. “I -knew him when I was a boy here—and I have an old -score to pay off. I have come to pay it, and I shall not -be kept from finding Kirsakoff, even though he were the -new Czar.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You must have been an unfortunate to have been in -the prison,” said Katerin. She was still gazing at him -with curious eyes, as if she could not believe that he was -really telling the truth about himself—as if she thought -he was making his story fit his necessity for finding Kirsakoff -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>and was making it as serious as possible to induce -them to help him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father was an unfortunate—a political—here -in the Valley of Despair.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Indeed, was he?” asked Michael, with renewed interest. -“You mean that he was here in the time that -Kirsakoff was Governor?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“In the same time—when I was a boy,” said Peter, -and looked at Katerin. Her face was full of shocked -surprise. She seemed horror-stricken at the idea, and he -wondered why she should think it so strange and so -terrible. He rather expected that she would see that they -would all be drawn together in common trouble, and have -a common hatred for Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How strange,” she said, turning to the lamp. “Then -you are one of us—no wonder you seek Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ay, that is a new string to the fiddle,” agreed Michael. -“I can understand now that you should want to find the -Governor. Perhaps you are right in this matter after -all—and I must think it over. You have reason enough, -yet it is a serious thing for me to put you in danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter felt better at this new attitude of the old man, -and thought that now they regarded him with a more -friendly eye. He was, in truth, one of them, and there -is a strong bond of sympathy between exiles and the -children of exiles.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And we might have known—could we have known -your father?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You could not have known my father. He died here -twenty years ago—before I went to America,” said -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Twenty years! That is a long time to wait for vengeance,” -said Michael. “Many things are forgotten in -twenty years, and time cures many things.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ay, so it is a long time, in one way, and in another -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>a short time. It seems but yesterday that I was a boy -here in Chita. You, sir, have worked all your life to see -Russia a free land. And like you, I have learned to bide -my time.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Things must look strange to you here,” said Katerin. -“The city has grown in twenty years.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, outwardly things look different. But the hills, -the old prison, the streets—I see them as they were. -During my years in America I never forgot, though I -confess I had little hope of ever coming back. But the -war gave me my chance. I was going to France, but -when the government decided to send troops here, I -volunteered for service in Siberia. Was it not God-given -that I should be allowed to come back to my native -land—and to come to Chita?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” said Katerin, “if the debt, as you call it, -which you owe to the Governor, is such that God would -have it paid.” She moved her chair in such way that she -was nearer the table, and so that she was closer to her -father. Also, she managed so that she cut more light from -her father’s face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what is the debt?” asked Michael. “If it is not -a secret—if I am to tell you where you may find the -Governor, perhaps you will see it in such way that you -can trust me with the secret.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It was Kirsakoff’s orders which brought about my -father’s death.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin’s teeth shut down upon her lower lip, and her -fingers closed slowly upon the sides of her chair. She -sat rigid, staring at Peter, and her face became paler. -Michael did not move, but his breath began to come faster, -and he wheezed, as if his chest had tightened and he was -about to cough.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Killed your father?” asked Katerin, in low tones.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, Kirsakoff did not strike with his own hand,” went -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>on Peter, still gazing fixedly at the lamp. “But he -ordered my father back to the prison, and when my father -ran after the Governor to beg for mercy, a Cossack soldier -cut my father down with a sword. And I was thrown -into the big prison on the hill—I, a poor helpless boy -who had done nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili moved uneasily behind the chair of Peter, and -Katerin gave the <i>moujik</i> a glance of disapproval.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you do know,” said Katerin to Peter, “how -cruel the Governor was to the poor unfortunates. And -that is why you seek him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What was done to my father and me—what was it? -Only the ordinary thing of the old days, as you know. -Yes, that is why I seek Kirsakoff, and why I ask your help -to find him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how long were you in the prison?” asked Michael. -“There must have been a charge against you?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I was in prison three months, as near as I can tell,” -replied Peter. “Three months of hell on earth and in -darkness, forgotten to the world! It might have been -three years, or three hundred, measured in my suffering—the -terrible sounds by day and by night, the rats—and -I might have been there till now, or dead, so far as -Kirsakoff cared.” His bitterness was growing, and his -face was getting livid with rage.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And for nothing?” asked Katerin. “Had you done -nothing against the Governor—or the laws of the Czar?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ay, even Kirsakoff would have mercy on a boy,” said -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I did nothing, I swear,” went on Peter. “It was the -orders of Kirsakoff which sent me to prison. It was this -way—an officer knocked me down in front of the post-house. -And when my father came to pick me up, the Governor -ordered both of us taken away to the prison.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You see, my father belonged to the free gang—he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>was a political, as were you. My mother died here, in -the Street of the Dames. I never knew her. But my -father was good and kind to me. He was all I had in -the world, he was all I loved, though in those days (and -Peter smiled wistfully) I was taught to love the Little -Father, the Czar.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father was struck down before my eyes, and when -I was taken to the prison, the officer in charge of the -books was drunk—and he put my name down in the book -wrong—put my name down as my father’s—gave my -father’s name to me, so that the records appeared to -show that it was my father and not me, the boy, back in -prison. I did not know what they were doing, and for -three months it was supposed that it was my father, the -political, who was in the cell by order of the Governor.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then no doubt the Governor freed you—gave you -the pardon,” said Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Peter. “It was God’s hand that set me -free. Some convicts escaped one night, and were recaptured -by the cordons in the <i>taiga</i>. But before the -soldiers took them, they had waylaid a sledge carrying an -American fur-buyer to Irkutsk. His name was Gordon. -The convicts robbed him. When Gordon got back here -to Chita, he was taken to the prison and the convicts were -brought out to be identified by him as the robbers. It -happened that one of these men, named Grassi, had been -put in the cell with me. When he was taken out into the -prison yard, I was taken with him. Then it was discovered -that I was the son of my father, and that there was -no charge against me. Mr. Gordon, the American, asked -to take me as his servant. I was released, the prison -commandant corrected the records, and Mr. Gordon took -me with him to America.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter paused, and looked at Michael, to see what effect -the story had had on the old man. But Michael’s head -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>was nodding gently, and he seemed to be turning the matter -over in his mind, his lips moving as if he were shaping -words which he did not speak aloud.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin stood up suddenly, and tested the fire in the -samovar. She seemed agitated, and Peter assumed that -she suffered with indignation at hearing his sufferings at -the hands of the Governor. Then she turned to him -swiftly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What will you do—when you find the old—Kirsakoff?” -she demanded.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall kill him,” said Peter simply, and was aware of -a quivering hand upon the back of his chair. He turned -and looked at Wassili. The <i>moujik’s</i> eyes were shining -like a cat’s before a fire, and there was the look of murder -in his face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Kill him!” cried Michael. “But he did not kill your -father!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was startled for an instant by the old man’s -horror, and Katerin’s face revealed the fact that she had -never dreamed that the American officer was bent on -murder—she seemed actually to be in terror of him. -Peter suffered a moment of abashment, and gulped down -what was left of the tea in his glass. He understood -that these people did not yet fully appreciate how wantonly -his father had been killed, nor how little provocation -there was for the killing. He was determined to convince -them of the justice of his designs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father and I,” he began anew, “lived in a little -hut down the Sofistkaya—it is there yet—I can see it -from the windows of my room. An old man lives in it -now, a queer old patriarch, who sells cigarettes——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is Rimsky!” exclaimed Wassili to Katerin. She -nodded, and looked at him so that she checked him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, Rimsky,” said Peter. “That is his name. That -is where I lived with my father, and where he taught me -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>the almanacs. We were happy, for we had a samovar, -and the ladies of the Street of the Dames came to us often. -They gave me cakes, and my father money. Of course, I -know now that he was an underground to the prison—he -carried messages back and forth between wives and -their husbands in the prison.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, they had many ways of getting news in and out -in the old days,” said Michael, with a smile. “But go -on with your story, my friend.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter struck a match to light a fresh cigarette, and the -flame showed his face to be flushed by his emotions.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The year of which I speak,” resumed Peter, “the -almanacs from Moscow were late. The mail-sledges came -in from Irkutsk one morning. I ran down to the post-house -to learn if the almanacs had come. There were -Excellencies in the sledge. As I remember, the Governor’s -daughter—Katerin was her name, I think, and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, yes,” cried Katerin, striking her hands together. -“Katerin Stephanovna! She was the Governor’s daughter—I -have heard of her! It is said now that she is -dead!” and Katerin turned to her father, as if to verify -what she had said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It has been said that she is dead this long time,” -assented Michael. “Some say that Zorogoff——” He -checked himself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter continued with his tale, warmed to it again by -the evident interest of his listeners.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, that was the Governor’s daughter. Her coming -was his reason for meeting the sledge that morning. Well, -I was eager to be sure that the almanacs had come—and -a Cossack knocked me down because I called to the -Governor’s daughter for news of the almanacs. And when -Michael Alexandrovitch, the Governor, came to the -sledge he found my father picking me up. I was bleeding -and stunned from the blow. And the Governor was in a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>rage at us—that my father should be making trouble—and -ordered him to be stricken from the free gang -and put back in the prison once more—and me with -him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But you said your father was killed,” said Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, as I say,” replied Peter. “My father”—and -Peter inclined his head toward the icon in the corner -over Michael’s head—“my father was so broken in spirit -at knowing he was no longer of the free gang and that -I was to go to prison, that he ran after Kirsakoff. It -was then that a Cossack ran my father through with a -saber—and swore that my father had struck at the Governor -with a knife—a leather knife which he pulled from -my father’s pocket.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But did the Governor know—could he know—of -this terrible happening?” asked Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ay, did the Governor know?” echoed Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Know!” cried Peter. “What would he have cared -if he did know? He had just ordered us both to prison -for nothing! And did he care enough to investigate the -case during the three months I was inside a black cell—to -give me my freedom? No! He forgot all about it -and me, even if he did know what had happened? Does -he care now what the fate of you and your daughter may -be? I tell you, sir, I must find Michael Kirsakoff! And -you must be the one who puts me on the right road!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, you must find him,” said Katerin. “Now we -know that you have good reason for wanting him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” said Peter fervently. “I knew that -when you saw my story as I could tell it, you would realize -that above all things, I must find Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What was the name of your father?” asked Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Gorekin—Peter Pavlovitch—a bootmaker.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Gorekin!” gasped Michael, his head snapping back -in his amazement. “Gorekin!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>“Have you heard of him?” asked Peter, with a quick -look at the old general.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I thought for a moment I knew the name,” said -Michael. “But if you say he was a bootmaker, it must -have been another. No, not if he was a bootmaker—and -this man I knew less than ten years ago.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael looked at Wassili, and put a hand upon the -table beside him, keeping the other under the blanket. He -began to drum with his fingers, deep in reflection. No -word was spoken for several minutes. Peter could hear -Wassili breathing behind the chair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have our sympathy,” said Katerin. “And you -must find the Governor. If you will give me time to talk -it over with my father——” She gave Peter a significant -look, which he interpreted to mean that it would be -wiser not to press now for information about Kirsakoff, -but to leave it in her hands.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” said Peter, and he rose, and bowed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You shall find Kirsakoff,” said Michael, staring at his -hand on the table. “By morning I shall know where he -may be found—perhaps. We must not act hastily.” -The palsied head was shaking gently, and the old man -was lost again in thought.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, yes,” Katerin put in hastily. Peter saw tears -in her eyes. She followed after him as he turned to go -back through the rooms, and they left Michael and Wassili -alone.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stopped at his own door, and looking back over -Katerin’s shoulder, saw against the light of the room he -had just left, a shadow cross—and then the figure of -Wassili peering after them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Good-night,” said Katerin. She seemed nervous and -worried. She also had caught a glimpse of the old <i>moujik</i> -outlined against the glow of her father’s lamp.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter seized her hands in sudden impulse and pressed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>them heartily. “I cannot tell you of my gratitude, -Vashka,” he whispered. “It was you who helped me in -this—and I have waited long! You are going to persuade -your father to tell me where I shall find Kirsakoff!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She gently drew away from him, and he released her -hands.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall do what I can,” she whispered. “But take -care—this house is full of enemies. If we are to defeat -the Ataman, be wary. Bolt both your doors to-night!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then she slipped away to her father.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XX<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE BLOW</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER, alone once more in his room, found that a -strange calmness had come to him once the secret -of his purpose in returning to the Valley of -Despair was in the keeping of two other persons. There -was for him in that fact something of the relief of the -confessional. For twenty years he had nursed in his soul -the grievance of his father’s death, and his own imprisonment—nursed -it most secretly, pent it up within his -consciousness, till it seemed that his body had become a -kind of culture tube of germinating hate.</p> - -<p class='c009'>For the first time since he had left Chita as a boy, he -found an easement of his soul burden. These people to -whom he had told his story, understood his deepest emotions -regarding his father. No American could ever have -understood fully, Peter was well aware. Prison to an -American implies disgrace, some sort of stain upon the -character which is never fully lived down. But to this -old exile, as Peter supposed Kirsakoff to be, Peter’s story -was an honor to him. For the old man had suffered the -horrors of the exile system, mixing, as it did, the highest -type of Russian with the lowest—the thinker with the -cutthroat.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter knew he stood better in Katerin’s regard than -before, now that she knew his story. He had seen in her -face a deep and profound pity for him. What he mistook -for pity was her alarmed concern when she discovered that -Peter sought to slay her father. Peter could not know -that she had suffered torture while he had sat looking into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>the lamp—that she knew how a look, a word or some -turn of the head might betray her father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter had always thought that the first assurance of a -successful end to his quest for Kirsakoff would mean a -delirious joy. Yet here he was coldly calm, a calm which -was a steadiness that he ascribed to his own efforts to -control all outward indications of his grim satisfaction. -His brain was singing, over and over, in an endless refrain—“I -shall find Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He turned the light in such way that he could see himself -in the big mirror between the windows, and smiled at -himself. His face was slightly flushed from the emotions -and memories roused by telling how his father had been -killed before the post-house, and how he himself had -endured and escaped from the prison on the hill.</p> - -<p class='c009'>His eyes burned with a feverish light. In fact, he was -drugged with elation, strangely soothed, much as a man -is lulled with wine till his senses are subdued by the poison -and his reasoning faculties are benumbed. Yet his alertness -was in no whit deadened. On the contrary, he was -well aware of what was before him, and he was alive to -the necessities of the situation. He was approaching his -long-waited moment of triumph, and he knew that he must -hold himself against the slightest rashness in thoughts or -actions. He must, he thought as he surveyed himself in -the mirror, avoid the look of craftiness which was coming -into his face—he must feign a bland innocence, and -dispel everything which savored of eagerness, impatience, -impulsive haste. He had days, weeks, in which to carry -out his purpose, and at last he was on the right track. -Besides, it would avail nothing unless he could accomplish -the destruction of Kirsakoff without leaving the hint of a -clew to the identity of the slayer.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He left off studying himself in the mirror, and began -pacing the floor, head down and hands behind his back. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>There was a strange sense of satisfaction in the knowledge -that Vashka knew his secret. He felt that it constituted -a bond between them, a mutual sympathy such as is -known only among exiles, or the children of exiles.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In fact, Peter had created in his own mind a vision of -Vashka that went beyond the time when he would have -killed Kirsakoff. It was sort of an unformed, inchoate -dream which consisted of nothing more tenuous than -mental flits into the future in which he always saw Vashka. -As she knew the secret of his coming back to Chita, she -would also hold his secret about who had killed Kirsakoff. -She would always understand, as she understood now. -Only a Russian, a Russian girl who knew as Vashka knew -the terrors of the Valley of Despair, fitted his idea of a -confidant in this affair. Katerin, as “Vashka,” had done -her work well!</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was now sure that Fate had a hand in everything -which had brought him back to the place of his boyhood. -The whole thing had come about with an inevitableness -which revealed a divinely directed plan. If some force -had shaped events for him with such unerring accuracy, -he saw no reason why the final result should not be brought -about with the same ease with which he had come thus -far on the way to his revenge.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He had a feeling that the task he had set himself was -now accomplished—the finding of Kirsakoff. His mind -was at rest, and he felt the need of relaxation from the -strain of wavering hopes and doubts. Also, he suddenly -felt hungry with that voracious appetite which comes to -people who pass the crisis of a severe illness and know -without reservation that they are on the way to complete -recovery.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The fiddler he had heard on the floor above before going -to talk with Katerin and her father, had now descended -to the hotel dining room, and was playing merrily. There -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>were other instruments, too—an orchestra. The music -was a novelty for the hotel. It lifted Peter’s spirits, and -dispelled the gloom of the place. For the first time since -he had arrived in Chita Peter wished to move about -among other people.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He washed at the little sink, and combed his hair. -Then he went down the hall to the dining room. There -were but a few people in the place—young men in Cossack -uniform, with flashily dressed women, sitting by -twos at the little tables along the wall under the frosty -windows. The gloominess of the room was apparent even -under the lights and the music, but it was the merriest -scene Peter had seen in the city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There were four musicians on a raised platform at the -far end of the room close to the red-painted buffet-bar -with the smashed mirrors. And the quartet was clad in -poor and ill-fitting gray suits—the men were German -prisoners of war.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter clicked his heels in the doorway and bowed before -he entered. The officers at the table looked up with -startled eyes, but inclined their heads slightly in response -to the courtesy. But it was plain that his American uniform -had attracted special attention, for the women companions -of the Cossacks stared at him. Peter wondered -if there was any resentment because he wore his belt and -pistol, though he could not understand how he had committed -any breach of etiquette by being armed, for the -young Cossacks were all wearing their pistols and their -sabers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The musicians played a German air, sadly, and with -good evidence that some of the strings were missing. -There were two violins, a ’cello, and a clarinet.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A waiter came to Peter. The man was clad in the same -bluish-gray as the musicians. He also was a war prisoner, -and clicked his heels and was quite military in his manner.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>“Have you a ticket, sir?” he asked, speaking in -English.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is a ticket necessary?” asked Peter in surprise. “I -am staying at the hotel.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, sir,” said the waiter. “This is an officers’ mess—officers -of the Ataman’s army.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then I am sorry,” said Peter, reverting to Russian -for the benefit of the Cossacks. “I thought this was the -hotel restaurant. I had no intention of intruding,” and -he pushed back his chair to rise from the table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You speak Russian, sir,” said the waiter, in Russian.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes,” said Peter. “And you speak English surprisingly -well—also Russian.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hans!” A young Cossack who sat two tables beyond -Peter, and faced him, called the waiter away and -handed him something. The waiter was back to Peter -by the time he had risen to leave the room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Here is a ticket for you, sir. The Cossack gentleman—the -lieutenant—wishes you to have your supper -here,” said the waiter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter bowed to the young officer, who smiled across the -shoulders of the woman with him. He was a thin-faced -chap, with heavy black hair down on his forehead after -the Cossack fashion. Gold straps covered his shoulders, -and a great saber lay outside the table legs, where it -swung down to the floor from his belt.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter sat down again. It would be in the nature of -an affront not to accept the proffered hospitality. And -the waiter brought thick cabbage soup with a yellowish -scum of fat floating on its surface, black bread, a plate -of chopped meat, with a mound of boiled grains of wheat, -and a glass of tea.</p> - -<p class='c009'>During the meal the orchestra continued to play. The -Cossacks and their women talked in low tones. Finally, -they began to drift away gradually till none was left but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>the young officer who had sent Peter the supper ticket. -And in time his companion disappeared also. Then the -young officer approached Peter’s table, and bowed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are an American officer, but you speak Russian,” -said the Cossack. He smiled and clicked his spurred -heels.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes,” said Peter, rising and saluting. They shook -hands formally.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am Lutoff, a lieutenant in the army of the Ataman -Zorogoff,” went on the Cossack with pride. “I heard -that there was an American officer in the hotel—and I -was about to call upon you this very evening.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is very kind of you,” said Peter, seeing that -there was some purpose after all in the matter of the -supper ticket beyond the characteristic hospitality of all -Cossacks. He saw that he would have to play the game, -whatever it might be. “My name is Gordon, and I also -am a lieutenant.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff bowed again.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Please sit down with me,” invited Peter, and they -both sat down facing each other across the small table. -Peter did not like Lutoff any too well—there was a -craftiness in his eyes, an insincere suavity in his manner, -an affability about him that was forced. His friendliness -lacked a frankness which he did his best to simulate, -but behind his smiles and his politeness there was a promise -of lurking menace.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have not called upon the Ataman,” said Lutoff -lightly, half in question, yet half in the nature of a -statement of fact—perhaps a challenge.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Peter. “I was three weeks coming up on -the train, and my health was hurt—I have been resting.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I trust you will feel better soon,” said Lutoff. He -uttered the words as if he meant more than that—Peter -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>caught an implication that it would be well for him not -to neglect calling upon the Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Were you intending to pay an official call this evening?” -asked Peter. He thought it advisable to probe a -bit after Lutoff’s obscure inferences.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, just for a friendly chat. You speak Russian -well for an American. You must have been in the country -before.” Lutoff offered his cigarette case, a ponderous -silver box covered with semiprecious stones of various -kinds and studded with raised metal initials—mostly gold—of -friends who had added to its ornate embellishments.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father was in business in Moscow. I was born -and grew up there,” lied Peter glibly, as he took a cigarette. -He had no intention of taking Lutoff into confidence -about his early life. He considered that none of -the Cossack’s business, and the personal prying a trifle -impertinent.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Are American soldiers coming to Chita?” pressed -Lutoff. It was obvious now that he sought information -for the Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes,” said Peter easily. “I understand a battalion -will be coming up the line. That is something I -intend to take up with the Ataman—how many barracks -are available in this vicinity.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff gave this consideration for several minutes, but -made no comment. Then he looked over his shoulder -toward the orchestra to make sure that no waiters were -within hearing.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“As a friend, I wish to tell you something,” he said -in a low tone.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” said Peter, but to all intents he was -indifferent and smoked his cigarette with complacency.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“While I belong to the Ataman’s staff, I am not speaking -officially,” said Lutoff. “It is merely as one friend -to another. You understand my attitude, of course.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>“Of course. Have no hesitation in speaking.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then what I wish to say to you is that if I were you, -I would not trust civilians who live in this hotel.” Lutoff -looked squarely at Peter, as if to gauge the effect of the -advice on him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Civilians!” exclaimed Peter. “Why, I did not think -of that. I supposed that nearly everybody in the hotel -was in the Ataman’s service.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There are many who are not,” said Lutoff, a trifle -annoyed by Peter’s coolness. “Surely, you do not think -that all civilians quartered here are in the service of Zorogoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am not so sure,” returned Peter. “But why -shouldn’t I trust them? What is there wrong—or dangerous -about the civilians?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There are spies among them.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You mean they are spies for the Ataman?” asked -Peter, not taking his eyes from Lutoff’s. Peter was -somewhat amused by Lutoff, and was taking considerable -delight in beating him about the bush. The whole incident -was so Cossack-like, so childishly dramatic.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff shrugged his shoulders. “The Ataman has his -spies, of course.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And perhaps I have talked with some of them,” suggested -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps. But that is not what I mean. I only -warn you to be careful.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are very kind,” said Peter. “But have you any -particular person in mind?” He wondered if Lutoff -could be working along a definite line.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You would be wise to avoid those people you have -been talking with,” said Lutoff, and leaned back in his -chair to blow smoke rings toward the ceiling, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter laughed quietly. “Rather a vague warning,” he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>said. “I have talked with several persons in the city—just -as I am talking with you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You know the people I mean,” said Lutoff with some -tartness, still gazing at the ceiling.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I appreciate your consideration for me, sir. I assure -you I would be glad to follow your advice if you will -limit it to the people you evidently have in mind. But so -far, what you have said might refer to anybody.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff looked at the table, twisted a bit of black bread -off a slice which lay on a plate, and kneaded the bread -into a ball of dough on the cloth.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have been talking with people in this hotel,” he -said presently.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not many,” said Peter. He was sure now that Lutoff -was referring to Vashka and her father, and began to be -disquieted. Did Lutoff know anything, or was he merely -guessing? Was it possible that a spy of the Ataman -had heard the conversations with Vashka and her father? -If so, had the spy heard Peter tell his story and his reason -for wanting to find Kirsakoff? If the latter was true, it -was likely that Kirsakoff already knew of Peter and his -purpose, for according to Vashka, Kirsakoff was hand in -glove with Zorogoff. Peter was really alarmed now. He -wondered if Wassili was to be trusted. He wondered if -Vashka was really a spy. He doubted that, for if Lutoff -were in the service of Zorogoff, Lutoff would scarcely be -warning Peter against Vashka. But the situation was -dangerous, Peter knew well.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, you have not been talking with many,” said -Lutoff. “But those with whom you have been talking—they -are not safe for you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is quite possible,” said Peter, smiling. “Almost -any one here is dangerous to a stranger. You see, when -it comes to that, I am most discreet with you, Mr. Lutoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff bowed his head slightly. “You compliment me. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>But I am not trying to mystify you or to frighten you. -When a man comes and warns you, you cannot very well -say he is a menace to you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Peter. “But your warning is vague. If -it is to be of any value to me—who are the people you -warn me against?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I speak of the old man—and the girl,” said Lutoff -abruptly, and lifted his eyes to Peter’s.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The old man and the girl!” repeated Peter, with an -amazement which was well feigned. “Here in the hotel? -I am not sure that I know whom you mean.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And I am sure that you do,” shot back Lutoff. He -had dropped his polite indirectness and was ready to -argue with Peter—almost ready, it appeared, to dictate -to Peter on whom he should talk with in the hotel or the -city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then you know what you know,” said Peter calmly. -“But I cannot be sure what you know, unless you tell me, -thus I cannot be sure that you speak as a friend. First, -if I am to consider your advice, you must give me some -assurance that you have knowledge of whom I have been -talking with—otherwise, my friend, you are seeking -information rather than giving it.” He had no intention -of being trapped into admitting that he had been -talking with Vashka and her father. The Ataman and -Kirsakoff might suspect what they liked, but Peter was -not going to tell Lutoff anything.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“These people are hiding here in the hotel,” said Lutoff, -resuming his kneading of the brown dough on the tablecloth.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hiding?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“From the Ataman?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff looked up with an angry grimace, and Peter -knew that he had put one shot home. He had revealed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>some knowledge of the Ataman’s tactics, and he had satisfied -himself that Vashka and her father were telling the -truth. He had put Lutoff into something of a hole, -which the Cossack might find it difficult to get clear of -again.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You had better keep your hands off this matter,” -warned Lutoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, is that it?” asked Peter. “Then this is a warning -about listening to people who have something to say -about the Ataman, is it?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You may judge for yourself,” replied Lutoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I already have,” said Peter, suavely. “I judge that -you are not warning me so much against certain people, as -that you are warning me to beware of the Ataman Zorogoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If I were you, I would not mix in political matters in -this city, Mr. Gordon.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You must remember that you are talking to an American -officer,” said Peter. “Am I to understand that an -officer of the Ataman Zorogoff tells me what I should -do or should not do in Chita?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I think the Americans wish to avoid trouble with the -Ataman,” said Lutoff, with a bland smile.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That remains to be seen—and is somewhat dependent -upon how the Ataman Zorogoff conducts what he is -pleased to call his government,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do the Americans intend to tell Zorogoff how he shall -govern?” Lutoff showed in his face that this was a most -important question to the Ataman—it was what Lutoff -was seeking for Zorogoff, and Peter knew it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They might even do that,” replied Peter. “But it -might depend upon the wishes of the bulk of the Russian -people in this district.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff grinned. “The bulk of the Russian people are -behind Zorogoff,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>“According to Zorogoff,” retorted Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Lutoff rose. “I am not speaking officially,” he said. -“Is that understood?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is if you say so,” said Peter, also rising. “But -I am speaking officially. And I wish to thank you for -sending me the supper ticket, and for your advice. But -I cannot limit myself regarding the people with whom I -talk in Chita, even to please the Ataman.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Am I to tell the Ataman that?” asked Lutoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You may tell the Ataman what you please of what I -have said, or I am ready to tell him the same myself.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Very good, sir,” said Lutoff, and clicked his spurs -again most formally. “But I can tell you now, sir, that -you will come into conflict with the Ataman Zorogoff if -you interfere—if you take any further action with these -people to whom I have referred. And——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I cannot consider your warning unless you make clear -to me just whom you are talking about,” interrupted -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You still pretend not to know?” asked Lutoff in surprise.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I want names, not assumptions,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Very good, then,” said Lutoff. “Let us not have any -doubt about it, and then you cannot plead that you were -not warned by the Ataman. I tell you not to mix yourself -in this affair of the Kirsakoffs—old General Kirsakoff -and his daughter Katerin Stephanovna!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Lutoff bowed again and walked directly out of the -dining room, leaving Peter clutching at the table as he -swayed before he sank back into his chair.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Kirsakoff!” he whispered. “Kirsakoff—and his -daughter Katerin Stephanovna!” and then his voice rose -in a hysterical wailing burst of laughter above the playing -of the orchestra.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XXI<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE CAT’S PAW HAS CLAWS</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>THE electric lamp on Peter’s writing table was -still glowing under its shade, but it gradually -waned as morning whitened the frost-bound windows.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter sat by the table near the door. He was fully -dressed, just as he had come from the dining room after -Lutoff had warned him to have no more dealings with the -Kirsakoffs. Peter’s left arm lay limply on the dingy -cloth, his automatic pistol close at hand lying on its -side. He was wide-eyed awake and staring at the door -into the hall, as if he were waiting for some one to enter. -His jaw was set grimly, and at the right side of his mouth -his upper lip was askew, as if he had spent the night in -thoughts which resulted in nothing but a cynical smile. -His face was pale under the night’s growth of beardy -stubble. The soles of both his boots rested flatly on the -floor, and were pulled back slightly under his knees as he -had gradually slipped down into the chair. His shoulders -were bent forward in a crouching attitude, and his -chin rested upon the front of his tunic.</p> - -<p class='c009'>When full daylight finally vanquished the darkness of -his side of the room, he lifted his head and pulled up the -sleeve of his left arm to look at his wrist-watch. He -thought a moment, as if in doubt what to do next, and -wound the watch. He turned and looked at the windows -behind him, rubbed his jaw reflectively with the tips of -his fingers, and got up wearily to look for his shaving kit -on the shelf under the mirror between the windows.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>He studied himself in the mirror, smoothed his rumpled -hair with his hand, and went about the business of getting -out his razors. But he pushed the kit away irritably, -and returned to the table. He picked up his pistol, took -a cautionary glance at the catch which was so arranged -that it revealed the weapon to be ready for firing, and -slipped the pistol into its holster on his hip. Yet he -did not button down the flap of the holster, but sprung -the stiff leather flap back and tucked it in behind the -belt. This left the butt of the pistol ready to his hand -for instant use—he could draw and fire it without the -trouble of unbuttoning the flap.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He went to the little wall sink near the wardrobe and -dashed water in his face. Drying himself with a handkerchief, -he went once more to the mirror and combed his -hair with infinite pains. This done to his satisfaction, -he stood before the door leading into Katerin’s room, in -an attitude of listening.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He looked at his watch again after a time, and as if he -had made a decision, walked to the door and rapped -gently upon it. He waited, listening. He heard nothing. -Finally he went to the push-button near the door to the -hall and pressed it three times in the usual signal for a -samovar. Then he fell to pacing the floor, head down, -and his hands clasped behind his back.</p> - -<p class='c009'>After a considerable delay, the peasant girl who had -served him when he first came to the hotel brought the -samovar. She seemed to be still half asleep, and having -set the samovar upon the table, departed promptly without -so much as a look at Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He took a few more turns up and down the room till -the hissing of the samovar drew his attention. He put -the tea to brewing and waited listlessly till it should be -ready. He drank several glasses of the steaming tea -without any apparent relish of it or stimulation from it. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>He seemed in a stupor, as he sat staring at the floor, -haggard and hollow-eyed. His face was drawn, and -reflected the bitterness in his soul. He hunted his pockets -for cigarettes, but found none. He looked under the -table. There he saw a litter of flattened mouthpieces and -matches, the remains of his night-long smoking.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There came a gentle tapping at Katerin’s door. He -sprang toward it and threw off the bolt. The door came -open under his hand, and Katerin stood smiling at him. -She did not look any too well, he thought—as if she had -not slept herself. His eyes met hers, and he forced a -smile. He bowed, and with a gesture invited her to enter. -He did not look past her, but he was conscious of some -one moving in the room beyond—her father’s room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Good-morning,” she said. “I did not bring the -samovar because I did not want to risk being seen in the -hall.” Her voice was low, and there was a note of worry -in it, as if she had already sensed something inimical in -his manner, or in the close stale air of the room which -reeked with the fumes of dead tobacco smoke.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter turned toward the window to pull a chair from -the writing table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You—you are ill!” she exclaimed suddenly, giving -him a look of concern. “And you have not slept!” -She took in the undisturbed blankets on his bed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes,” said Peter dully. “I have a cold—a headache. -But it is nothing—see—I have already had my -morning tea and feel better.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am sorry. You look as if you had suffered much,” -and she sat down, still observing him with troubled doubt. -She saw the exposed pistol in the holster, but refrained -from anything which would indicate that she had noticed -it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What about Kirsakoff?” he asked, as if they should -get to business.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>His words startled her, but she concealed from him any -indication of her inner alarm.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I came to tell you,” she answered. “We sent Wassili -out through the city last night, to people who have underground -information. And he came back early with his -report.” She affected a quiet complacence, as if seeking -news of her father’s whereabouts was a trivial detail of -everyday life.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what did he learn?” asked Peter, sitting down -by the writing table with his back to the window. He was -calmer now, resolved to play his part of utter ignorance -of the truth about Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The last word that has come to Chita is that—Kirsakoff -is in Harbin.” She looked straight at Peter -to gauge the effect of her story upon him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“In Manchuria,” he said, without surprise. “In that -case, we should go to Harbin. Could you and your father -get away to Harbin with me?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It might be possible—with your help.” Her face -took on a trace of color as her heart began to respond to -her rising hope that what she planned with Peter could -be carried through. At least, he had interposed no -objection to going to Harbin to find Kirsakoff, and actually -had in mind a willingness to take her and her father -along.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But could we find him when we got there?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We have friends there who know where he could be -found. It should not be difficult—there are not so many -Russians in Harbin, after all.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a brave woman,” he said quietly. “You -must know that this whole plan holds naked menace for -your father—and yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There is greater menace here,” she replied, looking -steadily into his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He wondered if she could mean that he was part of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>menace. It was possible that she knew Lutoff had been -talking—and that what Lutoff had said was already -known to her. If the latter were true, she must realize -that it would be impossible to manipulate Peter so that -he would save them from Zorogoff. He dismissed the -thought—she was bent now on leading him on a fool’s -errand to Harbin, and once safe from the Ataman, disappear -in the Manchurian city.</p> - -<p class='c009'>It now struck Peter that it might be wise to get away -from the Valley of Despair with the Kirsakoffs. Harbin -offered possibility not only to the Kirsakoffs, but to himself. -He could hardly expect to kill Kirsakoff in Chita -and cover his own tracks.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have you a plan for escape from the city?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We have talked it over with Slipitsky—the Jew. -But my father is averse to having any hand in putting -you into danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter smiled. “Your father need not worry about -that,” he said lightly. “Did we not arrange last night?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, but——” She hesitated to go on, and turned -her face from him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Has your father changed his mind since last night?” -asked Peter, alert at once.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, no,” she said, looking at the floor. “We—we -thought you might change yours. You have not been -sleeping—and perhaps you gave thought to——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have not changed my mind about Kirsakoff,” he -said when it was plain that she was not going to finish -her sentence. “I am still determined to—find him.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We thought you might have changed your mind -about helping us.” She lifted her head, and smiled at -him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He saw at once that her reluctance to avail herself of -his help was only feigned. She was too subtle to be -over-eager in a matter which concerned her own safety -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>and the safety of her father. She intended that Peter -should be the insistent one, so that any suspicions he -might have that they sought their own safety rather than -Kirsakoff, would be allayed. She wished the trip to -Harbin to be made on his wishes instead of out of their -own selfish, if natural, desire to escape the Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter laughed without mirth.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We might not be able to find Kirsakoff in Harbin,” -he suggested.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” she admitted at once. “He spends his time -between Harbin and Chita. By the time we got there, he -might be on his way back here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Would you advise waiting?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is for you to decide.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then we shall go to Harbin,” he announced. “This -is a serious thing to me. As I told you last night, I have -waited twenty years to find Kirsakoff.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It should not be difficult,” she said casually.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not with your help,” he said, with a play at enthusiasm. -“If I find him, it will be because——” He -stopped short. What he was about to say was that if -he found Kirsakoff, it would be due to her. But that was -not true—she was concealing Kirsakoff. Peter felt he -owed her nothing there.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Perhaps you would prefer to wait till you feel better,” -suggested Katerin. She was still worried about his constrained -manner, and not quite sure that the change which -she detected in him was due to his feeling badly, as he -claimed. She sensed an undercurrent of agitation, and -though the reason of it was far beyond her intuitions, she -knew he had undergone some change during the night—there -was something hostile in his eye, something in the -slow turning of his head which revealed to her the brooding -rage which burned in his brain.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I feel well enough,” he said, putting his hand to his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>ruffled brow. “The pain has gone, but I feel dull and -stupid. I hope you will forgive my—stolidity.” He -forced a smile, and threw back his head and shook it as if -to dispel a heaviness.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“When should we attempt to get away?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We should not delay, I think. Is it not likely that -the Ataman will be down upon the hotel at any time?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She shivered slightly. “Every minute is precious.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The sooner away, the sooner we shall come up to -Kirsakoff,” he said, and rose to take a turn about the -room. Then he came and stood over her, looking down -into her face.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take some more tea,” she said. “If we are to go -away, you must feel as well as possible.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, I must. Suppose you bring your father here—and -the three of us talk over the plan of going—to -Harbin.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin gave him a quick glance. Once more she had -caught in Peter’s manner a glimmer of the fact that he -was holding himself in leash against an impulse to action -which he found it painfully difficult to restrain. He -frightened her a little, for there was that about his -mouth, about his eyes, and in his voice which told her -that this man was ready to slay.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father is still asleep, I am afraid,” she said. -“But I know all the plans that have been made. We are -to leave by droshky—and Slipitsky will forge passports -for us. The old Jew is very shrewd about such things. -He helped many a man escape from—the old prison.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter wondered if her reluctance to let him see her -father could be due to a suspicion that Peter already knew -that her father was Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Droshky to Harbin! It sounds impossible! By -droshky more than a thousand versts in this time of the -year?”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>She laughed lightly. “Not all the way, of course,” -she said. “Just far enough to get away from the city—down -the railway far enough to get a train beyond -where Zorogoff’s men are on guard.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But how are we to get through the cordons of Cossacks?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“An American officer should be able to pass—if my -father and myself have forged passports. They would -not stop you—an American.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He saw the cleverness of her plan. It was a bold move. -And the Kirsakoffs would not have to risk having their -identity revealed to Peter during any quizzing at the railway -station in Chita. Zorogoff’s passport officers would -undoubtedly hold Katerin and her father if they attempted -to board a train at the station with Peter—and the worst -of it would be, the old general would most likely be -addressed by his name in the hearing of Peter. But the -sentries of the cordon around the city would be more -easily fooled. In the first place, they might not recognize -Kirsakoff at all if he were well wrapped in furs, and -had his bandage about his face. Besides, they might be -deceived by the false passports.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Is it intended that we should go by night?” asked -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, by day. The soldiers will not be so careful by -day. By night, they might fire upon us, or hold us till -morning in some guardroom while our papers were sent -back to the city for examination. That is the advice -Slipitsky gives. He says the best escapes are made -by daylight, and the proper plan carefully worked -out.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin waited till Peter thought it over. He considered -the plan, looking thoughtfully at the window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You, as an American, can be liberal with the soldiers. -Give them enough rubles to make them feel they want to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>please you, but not enough to rouse their suspicions. We -will give you the money.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter found it hard to choke down the bitterness which -rose anew within him as he listened to her elaborating her -plan for his deception. He was tempted for an instant -to laugh at her, and tell her now that he knew all he -needed to know. Yet there was a queer comfort for him -in listening to Katerin go on with her intricate scheme -to save herself and her father by means of the enemy of -her father. And Peter realized also that they probably -did not contemplate going on to Harbin with him at all—they -would slip away from him on the train, at some -station—anywhere once they were clear of the district -in which Zorogoff’s army held any power.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Does Wassili go with us?” he asked, thinking that -perhaps the servant would be taken for the purpose of -killing Peter once they had used him to get them free -through the cordons.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, Wassili will remain here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is the first thing to be done?” he asked, as if -anxious to get about the business.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Send Wassili for the droshky and the driver who is in -the plan—a man who can be trusted. That can be done -as soon as Slipitsky has the passports ready. He was -drying the ink this morning, over a smoky lamp to make -the signatures fast and soften the wax of the seals so that -the counterfeit seal could be pressed in. Then we drive -straight toward Zorogoff’s headquarters, to make it appear -first that we are going there. But we go around -the building, so that it will appear to the first line of -sentries on the other side that we have just left headquarters. -That will make the first cordon willing to let -us pass with scarcely any questioning. The next cordon -will take it for granted that we are all right because we -have passed the first—and if there is any trouble, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>passports will let us through. The earlier we start, the -better.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She rose, flushed with hope, which was engendered by -the very telling of how they were to escape.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am ready when you are,” said Peter. “Let us not -lose any time.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Tears came into her eyes. “We put our lives in your -hands,” she said. “God will bless you if you aid us in -our escape.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The road to Harbin is before us yet,” he said with a -smile. “You and your father are not yet out of danger.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” she said, moving toward the door of her -room. “I shall have him get ready at once, and see -Slipitsky about the passports.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter opened the door for her, and bowed as she passed -out. He closed the door after her, and stood looking at -the windows of his room, the same queer twisted smile of -the morning at the corner of his mouth.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XXII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE OFFICER FROM THE ATAMAN</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER paced the floor of his room, his head bent -in thought, after Katerin left him. He considered -the possibilities of the proposed trip to -Harbin in relation to himself and Michael. An escape -from Chita, he saw now, would be most desirable for his -own purpose, providing he was not being walked into a -trap in Harbin. It was quite possible that Katerin and -Michael would try to elude him in Harbin. It was inconceivable -that they were not quite as anxious to escape -from Peter as they were from the Ataman, for they were -in full possession of his secret. And once clear of the -cordon of Cossack guards surrounding Chita, they might -be able to give him the slip.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He had a desire to play out the intricate game in which -he found himself enmeshed. He knew he would find it -amusing to watch Katerin and Michael play at being -fugitives from the Ataman with him, and then play at -stalking Michael himself in Harbin—to see a man pretend -to seek himself. And at any time, Peter could turn -to Michael, and say, “Thou art the man I seek.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The sheer chicanery of it had an irresistible appeal -to Peter. Like all Slavs, he loved the dramatic for the -sake of itself, and he enjoyed proceeding by devious ways. -Besides, the fact that Katerin and Michael were deliberately -deceiving him, justified his own deception. Peter -had actually been sorry, as he sat thinking through the -night, that the identity of Michael had been made known -so abruptly. It had all come with such amazing clarity -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>and finality that he had found himself rather helpless -when he realized that the whole business could be settled -by the simple expedient of killing Michael without any -more delay. He shrank from so hasty a conclusion to -an affair which he had been dreaming about for twenty -years. He thought that perhaps the Russian people had -been caught in just such a staggering position by the -easy success of their revolution. A whole nation thrown -back upon its haunches, so to speak, and asking itself -what it was to do now! Their minds had been so occupied -for years in planning and plotting to overthrow the Czar -and his government that they had neglected entirely to -think of what might face them once they were successful. -Their plans had not gone beyond the destruction of the -Czar, and when he was destroyed, they needed more years -to give thought to what was necessary for the good of -the country and the people. It did not seem quite fair -to them that the Czar had allowed himself to be overthrown -so easily—he had destroyed their game, their -one interest in life. So they began to sulk, and intrigue -against each other.</p> - -<p class='c009'>In the same way, Peter rather resented Lutoff’s directness -in revealing the fact that the “old exile” was -Michael Kirsakoff. It made the matter of killing Michael -so absurdly easy! And the Slav insists upon making all -things difficult—life, war, government—before he can -enjoy them. He demands that Life shall be a puzzle, and -examines its hidden purposes to discover why the Creator -has tricked him into being a living being. He seeks a -sinister motive behind his birth, and not being able to -find one or to construct one out of his fancy, he kills himself -because life is not worth living unless it can be proved -to be a sort of divine persecution. The Slav needs a lot -of trouble to keep himself happy. Convince him that the -purpose of Life is to make him miserable and he is content.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>But Peter had become almost wholly Russian again, so -he could not fully consider himself in the proper light. -He had no intention of letting Michael escape. But he -had the bothersome idea that he had to begin all over -again to run Michael into a snare—a snare of Peter’s -own devising, and built so leisurely that the joy of vengeance -would have a satisfactory accretion of mental torture -for Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old general knew that Peter lusted for his life, and -this knowledge must in itself fill Kirsakoff with terror. -Did not Kirsakoff live in dread of a look, a word, an -intonation of the voice, which would betray him to Peter? -And Peter knew that he had the power to precipitate the -dreaded catastrophe for Michael at any instant. All -Peter waited for now was the moment which would intensify -the terror for Michael—that moment, perhaps, -when Michael would consider himself safest. It might -come at the instant when Michael would be ready to slip -away from Peter in Harbin, exulting in the thought that -he was about to escape from the man who sought to slay -him. Safe at last! And then Peter could smile, and -instead of saying, “Good-by, my friend,” could say instead, -“Now, Michael Alexandrovitch, you die!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And so utterly Russian such a moment would be! And -how fitting, thought Peter. Was not Michael Kirsakoff -living in a fool’s paradise and thinking that he could -use his enemy to save his life from the Ataman? When -he saw it from this angle, Peter was glad that he knew -the old man was Michael. Now he could build Michael’s -hopes, only to shatter them at the end.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Once again Peter was master of himself and of the -situation. He would play the covert game with the Kirsakoffs—and -Michael could not escape. Harbin would -be better than Chita after all, for it offered a better -chance for Peter to cover his tracks.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>He had come to this decision when he heard the rattle -of boots on the other side of the door which led into -Michael’s room. Then the door opened slowly, cautiously, -and presently Michael, the blanket over his shoulders -and clutching the loose ends of the covering to his -breast, looked in. The old man was crouched forward -and he was visibly trembling.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter thought at first that Michael had come sneaking -in during the absence of Katerin below, to attack him. -But he saw at once that Michael was alarmed—he stood -hesitating in the door, looking back over his shoulder, -listening. He had a blanket over his shoulders, and his -hair stood up stiffly on the back of his head behind the -bandages about his face, like the crest of an angry cockatoo.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stood still. He half expected that Michael had -come to the attack—that beneath the blanket Michael -had a weapon. And there was no longer any doubt that -the old man was Kirsakoff. Peter recognized him for -the Governor at once, though the years had changed so -much and the bandages which covered his cheeks hid his -predominant features. The nose was still strong and -arrogant, the black eyes now deeply set with age, the -white mustaches which had once been black, though sparse, -changed his appearance but little.</p> - -<p class='c009'>This was the moment for which Peter had waited so -long—but he knew at once that it was not the moment -to strike. He wanted more time to deal with Michael, -and the old man was worried about something which -seemed to threaten from the hall.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What is wrong?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael threw up his hand in a gesture for silence, and -did not turn his head, but continued to look back over his -shoulder into the two rooms behind him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Some one outside my door,” he whispered.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>Peter listened but heard nothing.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Wassili has gone for a droshky, and my daughter has -gone down to Slipitsky—I did not want to lock the door -against her. But—the Cossacks have come—I heard -them talking outside.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come in here, sir,” said Peter. “And we will leave -this door open, so that we may watch if anybody enters -and see who they are before they discover that you have -come to me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old man obeyed, and Peter stood in the doorway -looking into the Kirsakoffs’ rooms. The curtain between -them was caught aside by a cord, so that both rooms were -visible to Peter, the farther one by the width of the passage -between them which was enough to reveal to Peter any one -who might enter and pass it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>There were a few minutes of silence except for the -quick breathing of Michael crouched beside Peter and -standing to one side of him so that he was hidden from -the other rooms. And during this time Peter began to -suspect that it was all a ruse of Michael. The old general -was probably trying to catch Peter off his guard, -and attack him. It was quite likely, so Peter thought, -that Michael in some way had come to knowledge of the -fact that Lutoff had apprised Peter of the identity of the -Kirsakoffs.</p> - -<p class='c009'>But Peter abandoned his suspicion when he heard a -rattling of the door in the far room. Some one was -rattling the knob in place of knocking, a practice customary -when one wanted to enter without attracting the -attention of those in other rooms opening into the hall. -The rattling ceased. The next instant Peter saw in the -gloom of the far room a high white cap of wool, and a -gray sheepskin coat, and a Cossack stood looking in the -direction of Peter, head bent forward against the sharper -light from Peter’s windows.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>The Cossack hesitated but a moment, then he advanced -toward Peter, one hand behind him as if he held a weapon -in concealment.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What do you want?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Cossack did not reply, but came on till he was close -to Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Who are you?” asked the Cossack. He moved -slightly to the right and looked past Peter, his eyes upon -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am an American officer,” said Peter coldly. “These -are my rooms.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“An American officer! You speak Russian well, for an -American.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are intruding,” said Peter. “Or have you come -on a mission?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am Captain Shimilin of the Ataman’s staff,” said -the Cossack, and put his hand on the hilt of his saber as -he clicked his heels and bowed, formally polite.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And I am Lieutenant Gordon of the American army,” -said Peter. “This is my room. Please! Come in!” -There was no other thing for Peter to do, unless he wished -to bring on hostilities with Shimilin. It was very likely -that the Cossack captain had soldiers within call. And -now it looked very much as if an escape to Harbin would -be out of the question.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin entered as Peter stepped aside. The Cossack -looked at Michael, who had retreated to the low writing -table under the window, clutching the blanket about him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have you business of the Ataman with me?” asked -Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, not with you,” said Shimilin. “I did not call -upon you, but I thank you for your politeness.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter considered what he should do next. He had no -wish to see Michael wrested from his control in this -fashion, and he had no doubt but that Shimilin had come -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>for Michael. It was quite likely that Katerin had been -seized when she went down to arrange matters with Slipitsky. -Peter frowned at the thought that Michael would -escape him, even though the old general met death at the -hands of the Ataman’s soldiers. It came to him that the -limit of his vengeance now would be but to surrender -Michael and taunt him with the fact that the Cossacks—his -own Cossacks—could now deal with a Kirsakoff as -they had dealt in the old days with a Gorekin. But Peter -hoped to delay with Shimilin. It might be possible to get -the Cossack away for a time, when Peter would have things -in his own hands again, if only for a brief space. He -began to see that his hand was being forced—if he was -to kill Michael he would have to do it in Chita—probably -on the spot, and that in the next few minutes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Could you tell me why you have come to my room?” -asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, yes,” said Shimilin easily, as he faced Michael. -“I have come to arrest this old man.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Arrest him? For what?” asked Peter, feigning a -mild surprise. Shimilin seemed so casual, so light-hearted, -so jaunty that he appeared to regard the whole matter as -in the nature of a joke. He smiled good-naturedly at -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin lifted his shoulders inside the sheepskin coat, -put out both hands with the palms upward, and jerked -his head. “It is a business of the Ataman. You speak -Russian well. Are you a Russian?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Of course,” said Shimilin. “Only a Russian could -speak so. Have you called upon the Ataman Zorogoff? -What do you think of—our Ataman?” He regarded -Peter with questioning eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have not yet called,” replied Peter. “I know little -about the Ataman.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>“You have heard about him here in Chita. Surely, -you must have formed some opinion.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Peter dryly. “If I had, I doubt if I would -discuss it.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Now, now,” said Shimilin, not in the least offended by -Peter’s reluctance to discuss the Ataman, “I know all -that. But what do the Americans—the American army -in Vladivostok—think of Zorogoff?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin’s curiosity on that score seemed without limit.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I doubt if they have given him much thought,” said -Peter. “But about this gentleman here—I am sorry -that you want to arrest him. And in my room.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What does that matter?” asked the Cossack.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But little,” agreed Peter, who felt that he could have -his way with Shimilin if the Cossack believed that Peter -was not seriously opposed to having Michael taken. For -Peter knew that a Cossack can be cajoled when open antagonism -only strengthens his resistance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True,” said Shimilin, with a smile. “We need have -no quarrel. And being a soldier, you know what duty -means—I must obey my orders at all cost. I am glad -that you have sensible ideas.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Captain Shimilin evidently took it for granted that -Peter had decided not to interfere, but would allow -Michael to go with the Cossack. Still, Shimilin took no -action. It appeared that he wished to prolong his conversation -with Peter, and his eyes when he looked at Peter -were frankly curious.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael leaned back against the table, his back to the -window, watching Peter closely. The old general’s head -nodded gently with the palsy, suggestive of being moved -by the beating of his heart. He divined in Peter some -sudden change of manner, and suspected that Peter was -not going to protect him against the Cossack. But he -said nothing.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>“I would advise you to call later,” suggested Peter -suddenly, affecting a serious mien with Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Cossack was visibly surprised at this.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What! Come later? What difference can it -make?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It might make some difference to your Ataman,” said -Peter, purposely putting a dash of mystery into the sentence. -“I do not demand, captain, that you come later. -I merely advise it—for your own benefit. I can’t explain -now—but if you will come back in an hour——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, no,” said Shimilin, though not quite sure of himself. -“I am not to be prevented from carrying out my -orders.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I also have my orders,” said Peter significantly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh,” said Shimilin. “It would be unfortunate if -your orders conflicted with mine.” He drew his lips -tightly across his teeth, and his eyes looked squarely into -Peter’s.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True!” retorted Peter. “It would be unfortunate. -But I have been talking with this old gentleman here—and -we have not finished our conversation.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What have you been talking about?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is a private matter between ourselves.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah! Something about the Ataman, I presume,” said -Shimilin, giving Michael a suspicious look. Then to -Peter, “You would hardly believe a man who is sought -by the Ataman to have anything good to say about him—if -you could trust such a report by such a man.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What this old gentleman has to say about the Ataman—good -or bad—is likely to be borne out by the actions -of the Ataman. You can see, Captain Shimilin, that -if your Ataman did something which did not meet my -approval—such as an arrest without sufficient warrant—I -might be able to form my own opinion of the Ataman.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>“Hmm!” sniffed Shimilin, and walked round slowly in -a small circle, looking at the floor while he considered -Peter’s words. He stopped abruptly and faced Peter, -one eye partly closed. “Perhaps you have an idea that -the Ataman Zorogoff has no rights to consider?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have never questioned any rights that Zorogoff may -claim,” said Peter. He saw that he had Shimilin worried.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But the Americans have not officially recognized Zorogoff -as a ruler,” went on Shimilin. “You have been here -several days, yet you have not called upon the Ataman.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter saw in this an attempt to draw from him some -hint as to the American attitude toward Zorogoff, and -had no intention of committing himself on the subject.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I do not feel accountable to any person for my -actions here, other than my superiors,” said Peter. “If -Zorogoff seeks information as to the attitude of the -Americans, let him send some one to Vladivostok.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Would you defy an officer of the Ataman?” asked -Shimilin. “Would you tell me that I cannot arrest a -Russian subject here in your rooms?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This man is under my protection while he is in my -room. I have not defied you—but I suggest delay. I -shall not attempt to control your actions.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You don’t want him arrested? Is that what you are -saying?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t want him arrested now.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My Ataman will not like that. It is interference,” -snapped Shimilin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I cannot help what the Ataman thinks.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin smiled and bowed. “Suppose I report your -attitude to the Ataman himself?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I would consider that wisdom on your part,” said -Peter. “There are some aspects to this case which I -cannot discuss now. That is why I suggested delay.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>Shimilin clicked his heels and walked straight to the -hall door. He opened it, and turned. “I will submit -your proposal to the Ataman—if you are willing to -take the consequence.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Thank you,” said Peter, bowing in dismissal. “You -are very kind.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And,” continued Shimilin, “I shall hold you responsible -that Michael Kirsakoff is here when I return.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin shut the door with a quick jerk, suggestive of -the closing of the jaws of a great trap.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XXIII<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>A LIFE FOR A LIFE</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>WHEN he heard his own name uttered by -Shimilin as the Cossack captain departed, -Michael locked his grip upon the ends of the -blanket as if against a blow. A startled moan broke from -his lips, an expression of horror that at last Peter would -know him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter turned upon the old man swiftly, alert at once -and his own hand dropping to the butt of his pistol.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I—I am revealed to you!” whispered Michael, -thrusting his head forward toward Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And before you were ready, eh?” said Peter. “But -you thought you could fool me, Michael Alexandrovitch, -before——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Kirsakoff made a quick flick of his right hand, and -there dropped down from the sleeve of his shirt a small -derringer. The weapon fell into his hand, and he made a -movement to adjust it for use. But Peter was too quick -for him, and before Michael could get proper hold of it, -much less aim it, Peter had leaped upon the old man and -pinioned his arms against his sides.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So the old wolf has a snap left in him yet,” taunted -Peter, as he bore the frail Michael back against the table -and wrested the derringer from his fingers. Michael made -no struggle, but relaxed in Peter’s hands, and when released, -sank weakly to his knees.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter pocketed the derringer, and then leaned down to -Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You would kill me, would you? You have not forgotten -your tricks, Michael! Perhaps you came prepared -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>to kill me! So the escape to Harbin was all pretty -talk, to throw me off my guard that you might——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Mercy!” gasped Michael. “Mercy for my daughter’s -sake—I ask none for myself!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have discovered mercy. Who called for mercy -for Peter Petrovitch twenty years ago when you ordered -him and his father sent to prison—and then his father -was cut down by your Cossacks? Answer me that?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“If my daughter were safe from the Ataman, you -could take your vengeance,” said Michael simply. “I -have lived beyond——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, hush!” cried Peter angrily, clapping his hand -over Michael’s mouth. He slipped his fingers under the -folds of the bandage about Michael’s face, and slipped it -back over his head, pulling it upward from the chin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Let me see your face, Michael! It has been a long -time since we looked at one another—and each knew the -other. On that day you were the bold, brave Governor, -surrounded by your soldiers. Life was cheap then—to -you. Come! Stand upon your feet like a man!” And -Peter lifted him up against the table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have no fear of death,” said Michael proudly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” said Peter, laughing. “You are so ready to -meet death that you tie your face up in rags. But you -look like yourself, Michael! Yes, I would have known -you but for the rags. Life is not so strong in you, now, -it is true, but you are the same, yes.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stood before him, with folded arms, and scanned -Michael’s face with reflective memory. He spoke quietly, -almost soothingly, and his face was lighted by his joyful -exultation. He thought of nothing but that his triumph -had come, and he cared for nothing but that he should -drink his fill of the wine of revenge.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am helpless now—an old man,” said Michael. -“But I can die—Gorekin.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>“I suppose you can,” said Peter, “much as you would -throw away a lemon that had been sucked dry. But I -am thinking now of my father, twenty years ago. You -were brave with his life, too—and mine! I was a helpless -boy and you left me in your filthy prison. I might -be there now for all you cared.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do your will with me,” said Michael wearily.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter put a hand upon his shoulder, and bent his body -back, so that he might peer into the old man’s eyes in -better light.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have not lost your cunning, Michael. I can see -it still in your eyes, faded as they are. You thought -that I, Peter Petrovitch, would save your life—I, who -have come half way round the world to take it, I, who -have waited twenty years to see the breath leave your -body!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“To save my daughter, yes,” said Michael.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ha! Do you not see the divinity behind all this? -You run squealing to an American officer to save you from -your Cossacks—and the American is Peter Petrovitch! -And now that your own skin is threatened, you plead for -life because of your daughter! Did you give my father -a chance to plead for his son? Michael, <i>I am the boy</i> -who saw his father die in the snow before the post-house—and -you come now seeking my protection from the -Ataman——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A half-blood Mongol,” put in Michael. “I would -save my daughter from a Mongol—for myself I ask -nothing. And I would kill you if I had the power——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Stop! I shall do the talking!” Peter’s body trembled -with his rage. All the hatred which he had built -up in twenty years, all the concentrated venom in his -soul against Kirsakoff was now diffusing through his -body and poisoning his brain. He lunged at Michael, -and took the frail old body in his arms, swinging him -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>upward from the floor as a child might be lifted in play -by its father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Come!” commanded Peter, looking down into the -white face of Michael. “I will show you your Valley of -Despair! I will show you the spot before the old post-house -where I watched my father pour out his blood into -the snow! I will show you where Peter Petrovitch, who -now holds you in his arms, could but scream in terror -against you and your Cossacks—and vow to have your -life!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He turned with Michael, and thrust the old man’s face -against the pane of the window, holding him high enough -so that he could see over the stratum of frost on the lower -part of the glass.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Look, Michael Alexandrovitch! Up the Sofistkaya! -The post-house where the mail-sledges stopped when they -came in from Irkutsk! That is the spot! And I cannot -even find the bones of my beloved father in the old cemetery -by the prison on the hill. And below—the little hut -where Gorekin the bootmaker lived! See it? The chimney -and a part of the old roof. It has taken twenty years -for God to put you in my hands—twenty years, before -He has let you, a leaf which is ready to fall, come into -my power. Can you doubt that He let you live that -I might show you where you stood one cold morning, -master of lives in the Valley of Despair and death waiting -the snap of your finger? Times have changed, -Michael. The light has come to Russia—a new day, -and for such as you who gave us but black despair, -black night has come. And justice without -mercy!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter swung round from the window and threw Michael -upon his feet. The old general swayed dizzily and saved -himself from falling by grasping at the table. Peter -stood glowering, arms hanging out from his sides with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>fingers widespread as if he were about to seize Michael -again.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You shall have your vengeance!” cried Michael, and -held up an arm to restrain Peter for a time.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, shall I?” asked Peter sneeringly, a crooked smile -playing at the side of his mouth. “Perhaps you covered -your face that I might have my vengeance! Did you plan -to take me to Harbin to find Kirsakoff? Did you put -Wassili behind my chair with a knife to——?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Give heed to my words!” pleaded Michael in a passionate -outburst. “I will bargain with you!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter laughed at him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Bargain! Why should I buy what I already have?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Look!” Michael held forth his hand to Peter. Between -the fingers was a small white pellet.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what is that?” asked Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I could still defeat you, Gorekin. This is a poison -tablet—quick as a bullet or a blade.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“For me, Michael? Is it for me?” sneered Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, for myself. I can die by my own hand quicker -than you can fire your pistol—and you must shoot -quickly, or even the Ataman will defeat your purpose -with me. But I would bargain with you, Gorekin.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“To what end?” asked Peter, somewhat amused, and -curious as to the old man’s intent. “What have you to -sell, Michael?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I will sell you my life,” said Kirsakoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can have your life for the taking.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No. Look! I hold the tablet six inches from my -mouth. I could be dead before your bullet would reach -me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I like to hear your voice, Michael—speaking of your -own death. Well, have your say out.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a Russian, and you must have your blood -amend, Gorekin. You shall have it—I shall not destroy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>myself—but I ask you to save Katerin from the Ataman. -That is my bargain.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My father and I could not bargain, twenty years ago -out there in the Sofistkaya.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True. But I offer you now a life for a life—and a -clean slate between the two of us. My blood for your -father’s blood—and go your way in peace.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael leaned forward eagerly. Peter’s expression -had changed so that the old man had hope, but Peter -was merely astounded by Michael’s proposal. This was -something he had not looked for in the old man—a calm -willingness to take death as part of a trade, an exchange -of favors.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The old wolf has not lost his craft,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The lion returns to the lair where he was whelped,” -said Michael. “What I was, I was, and done is done. -What I offer is nothing, true—but you may fail in your -vengeance. Rather I would make it sure for you—and -go to meet the dead with no debt to living man.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And how is it to be done?” asked Peter. He still -suspected that Michael sought to escape him by a stratagem.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“With this!” exclaimed Michael, and with his left hand -he drew from the breast of his shirt a small slender object, -one part red and one part white, and held it forth to -Peter. “Take this, Gorekin—I put vengeance into your -hand—if you will save Katerin from the Mongol.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter drew near and looked at what Michael held. It -was a cased dagger—a leather case of red, surmounted -by a hilt of yellowed old ivory and a steel hand guard at -the base of the hilt. It was the weapon of Chinese assassins, -an instrument made for but a single crime for it -was cupped under the hilt guard in such a way that it -sealed the very wound it made. Peter knew at once what -it was and what it would do.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>“Give me the promise—and take the knife!” entreated -Michael. “One Russian to another—to save -Katerin from the Mongol!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what should I do with it?” asked Peter, seeking -to draw out the old general.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What should you do? What else, but thrust it into -my heart—and take my daughter away from the city? -Come! Your word! Give it and strike quickly, or the -Ataman will defeat you!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You know well I could not escape, leaving you dead -in my room,” jeered Peter. “What would I gain? If -I strike now—here—my vengeance will be a short joy. -It is so much simpler to turn you over to Shimilin.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“By the Holy Saints!” cried Michael in disgust. -“Has the blood of a Russian turned to water so that he -will not kill on his own honor’s account? Please! Take -this blade!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael drew the hilt away from the leather case and -exposed a polished shaft of steel, white and glittering in -the light from the windows—a weapon of exquisite daintiness, -with a round blade, slightly curved.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Look at it!” urged Michael. “It is cupped at the -hilt, and if you do not draw it once you have struck, -it will let away no blood. What more could you -desire?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter regarded him with thoughtful eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael threw aside the leathern case, and pulled his -shirt open at the neck, exposing his withered chest.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Say the promise—and strike quickly while I pray,” -he begged. “See! It is a gentle weapon—so sharp -and smooth that it will cause me little discomfort. And -then you may say I did it, which will leave you without -blame.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>For an instant Peter thought Michael to be mad. But -it was plain enough that the simplicity of the old man in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>his appeal for death was but his surrender to the inevitable.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter knew the lucidity of mind which comes with the -agony of spirit. He knew how Michael’s mind was working. -The old man was in the grip of that clarity of -mental vision which comes to the drowning man, or to the -man who walks to execution. Peter had experienced the -same phenomenon as he watched his father die twenty -years before. The trivial things of every day, things -never noticed before, had stood out with amazing distinctness -and had registered in his brain a picture which had -never vanished.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter remembered now the tiny stone he had seen in -the snow near his dying father; the Cossack’s boot which -had been deeply scratched; the odor of raw fur from the -sledges—even now the pungent scent was in his nostrils. -The scene recurred to him now with overpowering intensity, -and once more his old rage against Michael -mounted. He reached forward and snatched the dagger -from Michael’s fingers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Good!” cried Michael. “You will promise—and -strike!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then the old general began to whisper a prayer, and -stretched out his arms, like a great bat preparing for -flight.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter held the dagger in his hand, palm upward, and -slightly extended before him, so that his elbow was a right -angle with his upper arm, a pose somewhat similar to a -man who holds a rapier in low carte ready to thrust forward -the point. And he was close enough to Michael, so -that if the arm was extended, the dagger would reach the -old man.</p> - -<p class='c009'>While the two of them were thus confronting each other, -a low scream broke upon the room—a full-throated cry -of sudden and complete horror.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>Peter turned to see Katerin in the door which led to the -Kirsakoffs’ rooms. Her hands were thrown up and -pressed against her cheeks, her staring eyes fastened upon -the dagger in Peter’s hands, her mouth still open with the -horror of her cry, and her body transfixed into rigidity by -the astounding situation in which she found her father -and Peter. The catastrophe which she had planned so -carefully to avert, had come now, she knew. The delicate -structure she had devised had crashed down during her -absence, and she saw that Peter and her father were at -each other’s throats, or so it appeared to her in the first -glance she had of the interior of the room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She had returned from making the final arrangements -for their escape, in happy confidence that Peter would -never discover their identity—and here was Peter about -to slay her father. She saw an end to everything—the -man she looked to for safety was now to destroy them.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She screamed again. It was a scream of utter hopelessness, -a scream of black despair.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XXIV<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>A NEW TUNE ON AN OLD FIDDLE</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>PETER stood staring at Katerin, still holding the -tiny dagger in his hand. A puzzled look had come -into his face, as if he could not understand why -she should scream. The mental shock which he had sustained -in his discovery that the old man was Michael -Kirsakoff, seemed to have closed some compartment of -Peter’s consciousness which included Katerin in her relationship -to Michael. Now the full fact of her personality -intruded itself upon him in relation to what had happened -and Peter’s brain needed time to readjust itself to -a state of affairs in which Katerin must be considered.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He lifted his empty hand to his face and drew his fingers -across his eyes in a motion that suggested brushing something -away which interfered with his vision. He threw -back his head and shook it slightly, as if to clear his brain -of a vapor which befogged it. An infinite weariness -gripped him, and his eyes regarded Katerin as if she were -some specter which had formed out of thin air and now -stood between him and his vengeance, possessed of a supernatural -power to thwart him in his desires.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The first of the three to move was Michael. He slumped -down into a chair, and, lifting a warning hand to Katerin, -said weakly, “He has found us out!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Her father’s voice seemed to release Katerin from the -grip of her terror, and she began to move forward toward -Peter, with slow, even steps, her eyes upon the dagger in -Peter’s hand. There was no wariness about her, yet she -had a quiet deliberation, as if she knew that it would be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>safer to make no sudden movement and so startle Peter -into resistance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin approached Peter, and reaching for the dagger, -put her hand upon its blade and drew it out of his fingers -with the same gentle motion that a mother might use in -taking a dangerous object from the hand of a child. And -Peter relinquished the weapon, not so much in surrender -as in a state of mind which was willing to forego for the -present anything or any action in exchange for time to -consider a new phase of the situation.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin recognized the dagger, more by the quick sidewise -glance she gave her father than by looking at the -ivory hilt which stuck up between her thumb. She suspected -that her father had drawn the weapon against -Peter when he had discovered her father’s identity, and -that Peter had disarmed him. But she knew that just -what had happened during her absence from the room did -not matter now—the danger lay before her. She mistrusted -Peter’s temporary mood, and sought for an angle -by which she might draw from him his attitude, or deflect -him from any murderous intent. She knew that her -father’s life hung in the balance—and her own—while -Peter stood there silently staring at her, grim and forbidding -and gathering impetus for whatever form his next -impulse would take.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I trusted you!” she said quietly, and after she had -uttered the words her mouth remained half open and her -breath came gustily, like the breath of a runner who is -spent at the end of an effort. She had been holding her -breath since she had screamed in the doorway. She looked -into his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s lids flickered. His eyes were half closed, and -still shot with red in the tiny blood-engorged veins at the -sides. He looked at her dreamily, questioningly, and she -thought with something of insolent defiance.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>Peter did not answer, but he moved his head slightly -and looked past her at Michael, lips compressed, and the -lids flickering.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Peter Petrovitch—I love my father.” Her voice -was low, entreating, consoling, and carried an infinite -desire that he understand her suffering.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“This is the end for us!” piped up Michael shrilly. -“To the dead it does not matter how death has come—we -shall take the poison!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael lifted one hand before him, and with the other -tore open a seam in the cuff of his shirt. Between his -thumb and finger appeared a small white pellet.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin was upon him instantly and took away the -pellet.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Not yet—by your own hand,” she said gently, and -putting one arm about his neck, bent and kissed him. She -turned to Peter once more, her courage stronger, a vague -hope growing within her. But her eyes were filled with -tears.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Would you kill my father? Would you do the work -of Zorogoff, the Mongol? And see me surrendered to -this half-blood Ataman? You! Peter Petrovitch—a -Russian—a Russian from America!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She was not so much asking him these things, as she -was asking herself if he could do them. She was not -afraid—she was hurt. It all seemed incomprehensible to -her—that any Russian could ally himself with Zorogoff, -could commit a murder such as he had planned. She -understood now that she had not been brave in her dealings -with him, but that she had never allowed herself to -believe he could be dangerous even though her dexterous -manipulation of him were exposed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Katerin Stephanovna!” said Peter, gazing at her -with a trace of surprised awe in his tone and his look. -“You—are Katerin Stephanovna!”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>She divined something of what was passing through his -mind—he was thinking of her as a little girl, in the -old days in Chita. A look of hope flashed across her -face, though she took care that she did not betray to -him that she saw an advantage.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am Katerin Stephanovna,” she said, with a lift of -her chin. She stood beside her father, one hand upon his -shoulder to restrain him against any action, and yet in a -posture which suggested defense.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The same little girl—who was in the sledge—that -morning of the almanacs and——” went on Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Her mind leaped ahead of him as he paused—she knew -now that he was mentally reconstructing the scene of his -father’s death, and that from it would accrue a new burst -of hate, a fresh impetus which might compel him to action -against the restraint which her presence had interposed -between him and her father. She left her father and -moved toward Peter, seeking to distract his thoughts by -drawing his attention to her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Are you a true Russian?” she demanded passionately, -as she approached him. “Are you a man of my race?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He seemed startled by the question, and once more his -hand brushed his brow.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Russian?” he repeated simply, almost helplessly, as -if it were something that it had never occurred to him -before to question. He looked down at his uniform, and -then lifted a khaki sleeve to study the brown band of tape -at the cuff, the band of an officer’s sleeves.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Why, yes—I am Peter Petrovitch,” he said finally.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He stepped to the window and looked out upon the -Sofistkaya, and at the flattened gable-end of the little -hut below which had been his and his father’s. Katerin -drew close to him, and putting her hand softly upon his -arm, looked into his face. Her own was drawn with -suffering, and glistened with fresh tears.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>“Peter Petrovitch,” she whispered, “you look upon a -new Russia—the one you knew has gone. The old prison -on the hill is empty! Empty! Thank God for it! What -more can you do?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He looked directly at her, and studied her face for a -minute, his own face still reamed with the lines of the -hatred which held his nerves taut.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You trusted me?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You deceived me,” he retorted, once more himself and -completely readjusted to the meaning of her return.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes. To save my father. But I trusted you, too, -else I could have avoided you. I would give my life to -save my father, but it is too late now—I can neither -save him nor myself. We live only so long as Zorogoff -delays in coming.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You speak to thwart me,” he said bitterly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She turned her palms upward in a gesture of submission -and the slightest shrug of her shoulders, as if she -had lost all interest in what the final result of what she -said might be, and as if what he might do was a matter of -little moment to her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I speak to save your soul,” she said softly. “But we -shall not quarrel about it—either what you are to decide -about us, or about your soul.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No?” he demanded, surprised that he should be -nettled by her carelessness. “But you are pleading with -me now.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She gave him a look of surprise and laughed harshly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Pleading? For what? A few hours of life?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You might both escape,” he suggested, “by the -droshky which you have so cleverly planned. That is, if -I should let you go.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We could not get through without you. And what -does it matter whether the Ataman Zorogoff kills my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>father in the morning, or you kill him now. No, Peter -Petrovitch, I plead only to save you from blood upon your -hands—and to save your own life—the life of an American -officer.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>At this, he thought of Wassili and smiled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I mean Zorogoff,” she hastened to say. “He would -not let you escape, if you gave him reason to destroy you—if -you killed my father.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You can argue for Zorogoff, who will destroy you -both?” he asked, making no attempt to mask his incredulity.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She lifted her shoulders again in that same almost -imperceptible shrug, and looked casually out of the window.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You can help America help our people,” she said. -“As for Zorogoff, I have death ready at my bidding for -myself before he could take me to his palace—I can -defeat the dog of a Mongol. But what do you gain by -your vengeance upon my father? A few hours of his -life! Is that the measure of the value of your vengeance?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You think that I am too late—that I am already -defeated in my purpose,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes. You are, Peter Petrovitch. Time has defeated -you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No,” he insisted. “I have waited twenty years——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And after twenty years, you come back to what? -Michael Kirsakoff and his daughter hiding from his Cossacks! -The old governor, worse off than peasants, with -death lurking at the door! The general of the Czar’s -army, in flight and hiding like one of his own escapes in -the old days! What sweeter vengeance would you ask, -Peter Petrovitch?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She spoke of her father and herself in the third person -as if she were already separated from life and saw herself -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>in the detachment of death, looking back upon her -father’s and her own end.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True, times have changed,” said Peter grimly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yet you had no hand in it,” she said daringly, conscious -that what she said might lift his wrath again. -“The tree of hate has borne its own bitter fruit, and a -gale of death sweeps the land——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ay, the wheel has turned!” cried Michael from his -chair. “And the water has returned to the sea! My sins -are my own, and judgment is before me. But I have -offered my life to you, Peter Gorekin, for——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do not heed him!” said Katerin to Peter hastily, as -she saw his eyes flame with sudden anger.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have come all the way from America to hear him,” -said Peter. “Am I to be cheated——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“America!” cried Katerin with fervor, clapping her -hands together. “You, a Russian! Have come from -America! And what are you to do with what America -has given you?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what has it given me?” he demanded in surprise.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“America has given you its trust—you, the poor son -of an exile, by the coat you wear, are an officer—a -gentleman! Ah, Peter Petrovitch, I had hoped that -America had changed your heart as well as your coat—and -taken something from you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what should it take?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He scanned her face, seeking her purpose in holding his -attention away from Michael. Her eyes held infinite sadness, -and seemed to have lost any sense of terror. Her -face had softened in final resignation, and he saw her for -the first time in her own nature—the serene calmness -which belongs to the Russian aristocrat, who is essentially -a fatalist.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have heard much of America,” she said dreamily, -her eyes on the window but her vision not extending beyond -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>the glass. “I hoped that you, who are of my own -race, should learn a new lesson in America—that the -spirit of America should take from you that love of -destruction, that love for vengeance which is so strong -in our people. Countless millions have been willing to -die, and have died for Holy Russia. When is the Slav -to learn that he must live for Holy Russia?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, those who have ruled Russia have just begun to -learn how precious is life,” said Peter. “I learned the -lesson out there in the Sofistkaya twenty years ago—it -is you who are learning now—from me—and your -Cossacks!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I know Shimilin has been here,” she said wearily. -“We have come to the end. I cannot ask you to save -us, even if you could or would. That is done.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You were willing—when you went down to arrange -for the droshky. You could smile when you thought I -was deceived.” His manner with her was easier now, and -he seemed to be toying with the situation, testing her -bravery.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, it was all a woman has against a man—a smile -for a shield. And you thought you were deceiving me—you -would tell to Rimsky what you would not tell to -Vashka the samovar girl.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Vashka the samovar girl!” he repeated. “Vashka, -telling me of Kirsakoff—a tall man in uniform, with -black mustaches—a man in his full strength, stalwart—the -cruel Governor who was behind the government of -Zorogoff!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You were secretly seeking my father. It was my duty -to learn your secret before you learned ours—a fair -game.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“True!” he admitted.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I would save you now from the Ataman.” She gave -him a quick and eager look. He misread her intent, when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>he thought she was turning his mind into new channels.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Save me!” He was incredulous, and once more on -the alert against some new plan to entrap him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, to save you, Peter Petrovitch! If Zorogoff -knows that you had our story, when we are dead, he will -fear your knowledge against him—and destroy you.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You should think of my safety at this time! Why?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She bent her head and turned from him, but he took -both her arms and swung her so that she had to look into -his face. But she evaded his glance, though she did not -resist his grasp.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can tell you now because of the barrier between -us,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Barrier?” He was frankly puzzled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The blood of your father and your desire for vengeance -stands between us—that is why I can tell you, -Peter Petrovitch, that—I loved you——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>His hands loosened upon her arms, and a flood of tears -was upon her—silent tears, which shook her frame. -And Peter seized her again and threw his arms about her -with crushing ferocity.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Katerin! Katerin!” he cried, and the next instant -released her as suddenly as he had swept her to him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, God!” he cried, throwing up his clenched fists in -a gust of fury. “Have I been brought to my enemy, -only to be tormented? What am I to do, my father, -what——?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael had leaped from his chair with a cry, and -faced Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What? What?” demanded the old general. “There -is love—love between you two—my daughter——!” -He was too shaken to frame more words, and his voice -wavered and broke and lost itself in the depths of his -throat. He stood with his frail legs bending under him, -his mouth wide open and his chin quivering, gulping for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>breath to give him energy to express the emotions which -shook his body and rendered him powerless to express himself.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin flung herself at him to sustain and calm him, -still fearful that Peter might attack under the slightest -provocation—and she was in terror lest her father would -give vent to an outburst of anger.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I shall speak!” he said gently to Katerin, and at once -he was strong again, as if he had rallied the last bit of -his energy for his new venture of resistance. Katerin let -him go on toward Peter, who stood waiting to see what -the old man might have to say.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael sank to his knees before Peter, and held up -his arms imploringly, while words began flowing from -his agitated lips in a torrent.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Give heed to what I say,” he cried beseechingly. -“You, too, are a Russian! Look upon me, who once was -your Governor! Have compassion upon me who am now -but a bit of dried mud cast upon the road by the wheel of -Time! Have mercy——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So you have learned what it is to ask for mercy, -Michael Alexandrovitch! But you have yet to learn what -it means to have mercy denied,” taunted Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is not mercy that I ask for myself, Gorekin,” went -on Michael. “But you love my daughter—and I stand -between you! Save her! Save her from the Mongol. -And leave me, who am but some of the wreckage of Holy -Russia, to suffer the wrath of this Zorogoff!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We two shall die together, my father—your fate -shall be mine,” said Katerin, “or I shall die by my own -hand.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You saw me in the old days, Gorekin,” went on Michael -in disregard of Katerin. “Were those days worse than -these? I obeyed my orders. I held my power by the -word of the Czar, and I bore his sword. Now I have lived -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>beyond my time. My day is done. I am not of these -days. How does it matter the manner of my end? I -shall soon be with your father—I, Kirsakoff the Governor, -with Gorekin the bootmaker and the political—in -the hills above us. Then let God judge my sins, as -will yours be judged! Take my daughter—she is all I -have to give for the debt that is due you, yes, overdue! -I am old, but my eyes still see, and I see that you two -love! Take my Katerin Stephanovna to America, Peter -Petrovitch! Flee, both of you——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin gave a warning cry and sprang toward the -door leading into her room. She had caught the sound -of running feet from the hall—feet in panic flight.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hush!” she warned. “Some one comes!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Slipitsky, his black cap missing from the top of his -head, and his eyes telling of his dread for something -which pursued him, burst into the room. He clapped his -hands to his temples in frantic despair in a gesture of -hopelessness, too short of breath still from running to tell -what he feared.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Ataman!” he gasped. “God’s doom is upon -us!”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XXV<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>THE FINAL RECKONING</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>THE door leading to the hall was flung open. -Shimilin, the Cossack captain, stood on the -threshold, and behind him was a group of his -wild-looking soldiers, their heads hooded with wrappings -of furs, and the points of their shining bayonets bristling -about their shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin did not advance, but remained in the doorway, -coldly surveying those inside the room. He gave each -of them a casual glance—Michael, Katerin, Peter, and -even the shivering Slipitsky who stood cowering against -the wall and whispering to himself through trembling lips -and fingering his beard in nervous terror.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Ataman Zorogoff!” announced Shimilin, and -the soldiers behind him opened a narrow lane, as Shimilin -stepped aside and into the room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Ataman pushed through the guards, and strode -into the room, looking straight at Peter, stern and challenging. -The Mongol chieftain’s greatcoat was off, and -his somewhat fantastic costume betrayed his childish love -for personal display. Rising from the swarthy forehead -was the towering white cap of long hairy wool, studded in -the center of its flat front by a wide slab of crudely hammered -gold half the size of a man’s hand, and in it set -a diamond. At his left side hung a tremendous scimitar -with a hilt-knot of gold fiber swinging from the guard. -He wore a snuff-brown tunic with big brass buttons, blue -riding breeches with double stripes of gold braid down -the sides, and heavy black boots fitted with wheel-like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>spurs of silver. His shoulders were covered with broad -straps of gold cloth. In his belt were a pair of pistols, -the butts sticking up from the tops of uncovered holsters. -An order of the Czar hung from the top of a tunic pocket, -an odd link between the shattered empire and this usurper, -who was crafty enough to display upon his person something -which still had a meaning to many of his followers -and reflected a trace of the vanished glory of the -throne.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A pair of gold devices gleamed upon the standing collar -of the tunic of the Ataman, and his long black hair which -fringed his ears, was all the blacker for the whiteness of -the woolly cap.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff marched toward Peter, his boots pounding the -floor belligerently, his small black eyes burning with a -glittering menace. But he stopped when he could have -put out his hand and touched Peter—stopped with an -abrupt and final thump of the heel of his left boot as he -planted it close beside the right boot.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“There is the American officer,” said Shimilin, still -standing by the door. “That is the man, sir, who sent -the message.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Some of the soldiers edged into the room and grounded -their rifles with jarring thuds, and the others outside in -the hall pressed forward, thrusting their heads in.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter bowed. “I am Lieutenant Gordon of the American -army,” he said with cold formality, and returned the -Ataman’s angry stare.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I have come to hear you oppose my will,” growled -Zorogoff, a wicked twist to the corner of his lips, and -venom in his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what is your will, sir?” demanded Peter, putting -enough deference into his words and manner to prevent -Zorogoff from having any complaint on the ground of -lack of civility or respect.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>“My officers report that you have been in my city -several days. You come here as an American and ignore -me and my government.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I can assure you that you will not be ignored by the -American army, sir,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do you, representing the American army, dare tell -my officers what they may not do?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I requested your officer not to arrest General Kirsakoff -and his daughter in my room. They came here to -talk with me, and till I have finished talking with them, -your officers must not interfere, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff’s breathing became audible to Peter, and he -saw the flat nostrils of the Ataman twitch, and growing -anger flashing in his eyes. But he did not take his eyes -from Peter’s, nor was there the slightest change of expression -in the Mongol’s immobile face after that lifting -of the nostrils. Behind the Ataman stood Shimilin, smiling -sneeringly over the shoulder of his chief, in an obvious -attempt to break through Peter’s armor of stolid patience.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“My officers must not interfere!” echoed the Ataman. -“Is it that I take orders from the Americans?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, it is not an order, but——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Good!” blustered the Ataman. “It is not an -order!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is not an order,” went on Peter, in the same even -tones. “But you must take care that you do not interfere -with American officers. I tell you now, sir, that if -these people are arrested in my room, I shall demand to -know the reason for their arrest, that they are properly -charged and tried, and given the right to a proper defense. -Otherwise it may appear to the Russian people that an -American officer has betrayed this old man and his daughter -to you, and delivered them into your hands. I cannot -prevent you from arresting them, from executing them -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>if you wish, but I can reveal to the commander of the -American army and to the people of America, the methods -of your rule, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I rule here, and in my own way. I ask no help in -ruling from the Americans,” grunted Zorogoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And the Americans are vitally interested in <i>how</i> you -rule, sir,” retorted Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I rule as I please, with account to no one!” raged -Zorogoff. “Captain Shimilin! Take the old man and -the woman!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Wait!” cried Peter, throwing up his hand to Shimilin. -“You are invading my room! I claim the only right to -give orders here!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I take Russian subjects where I find them, and I do -with them as I see fit!” thundered Zorogoff, his face -seeming to swell with rage at Peter’s words.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Captain Shimilin turned as if to obey the Ataman’s -order, but he hesitated, the same sneering smile upon his -lips. He appeared much amused at Peter’s defiance, and -only too willing to let him further enrage the Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You speak of subjects of Russia, sir,” said Peter, -addressing Zorogoff. “Am I to have the honor of -reporting that the Ataman Zorogoff occupies the -throne of all the Russias? And perhaps part of Mongolia?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff made a grimace, and the flesh about his eyes -crinkled tightly. Peter saw that he had struck a vital -spot in the pride of Zorogoff, and had touched upon a -matter which revealed some of Zorogoff’s power as a pretender—his -strength came from his affinity with Asiatic -people through his Asiatic blood. His leadership was -racial, for he was exploiting his Mongol heritage and -behind him were princes of ancient Tartary whispering -against white ascendancy in their own land.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“That is the Russian speaking,” said Zorogoff, “not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>the American! You turned your back on your own -people, and come now in a strange coat to give orders -with——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I came to give you warning that America will not -allow you to persecute and kill a helpless old man and a -defenseless woman! To keep your hands off helpless——” -Peter checked himself in sheer wonderment at his -own words—he who had come to kill the helpless old -father of Katerin, suddenly found himself defending the -very man he had waited twenty years to slay! “America -will not allow you to persecute and kill,” he repeated -weakly, as if it were an idea which he had just discovered! -And he had! For the first time in his life he had been able -to express the Americanism which he had acquired in -twenty years. It was something that had overgrown his -spirit and had smothered all unknowingly to him the -smoldering fires within him which impelled him finally to -seek the blood vengeance of the Slav!</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Take the Kirsakoffs away!” ordered Zorogoff, turning -to Shimilin in the instant of what seemed to him Peter’s -indecision. “No Russian, even in an American uniform, -can oppose my will here, or——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>A small object came hurtling through the air past -Peter, and struck the Ataman in the face. It was a heavy -pocket-knife, with the blades closed, and its end, capped -with curved grooves, left three short gashes parallel in the -cheek of Zorogoff, before it ricocheted against the wall -and clattered to the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael sprang forward closely after the missile which -he had hurled at the Ataman, and thrust forward his fists, -past Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God’s curse upon you!” screamed Michael, his voice -rising to a shrill shriek. The Ataman stepped back, and -put his hands to his face, and then looked at the tips of -his fingers covered with blood. He regarded them -<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>thoughtfully for the fraction of a second, a look of surprise -in his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin spoke in restraint to his soldiers, for they had -started forward into the room, their bayonets coming up -aslant.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael pushed forward and thrust his fists into the -Ataman’s face, the body of the old general coming between -Peter and Zorogoff, so that Peter’s view of Zorogoff -was temporarily cut off. And in that time Zorogoff drew -a pistol, and fired, the crash of its report booming out -above the startled cries of Katerin and Slipitsky and -the high-pitched shrilling of Michael at his enemy. Zorogoff’s -bullet almost lifted Michael from his feet, being -fired from the hip and upward into Michael’s breast. -The old general swung half round and then staggered -backward and fell with startling impact across the low -writing table.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter turned to look after Michael, just as Katerin -came plunging toward the Ataman, who stood partly -hidden in a cloud of gray smoke. Peter caught the flash -of the naked blade—the blade of the small dagger which -Michael had handed to Peter and which had been taken -from Peter’s hand by Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter clutched after her, fearful of the consequences -of another attack upon Zorogoff. But she eluded his -grasp, and lunged straight forward into the smoke about -Zorogoff, to bury the dagger to its hilt in the Ataman’s -neck at the base of the standing collar of his tunic.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Zorogoff gave a gurgling cry and the heavy pistol fell -from his hand. He threw up his arms and then clawed -at his throat as his knees gave beneath him—and pitched -forward at Peter’s feet to the ringing clatter of the great -scimitar against the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter caught Katerin in his arms as she reeled back, -and held her, his left hand flying to his own pistol to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>ready against the expected attack from Shimilin and the -soldiers. But Shimilin stood with his arm raised to hold -the soldiers in check, his eyes upon the dying Ataman.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter stood thus holding Katerin for a minute, as she -cried incoherently. Slipitsky had run to Michael and had -lifted the old general down into a chair and the moans -of the stricken general came above the wailing of the -Jew. Peter gave no heed to them but held his pistol -with the barrel half downward and watched the soldiers -pressed about the door, fearing that Shimilin would not -prevent them from using their rifles. Peter knew well -that there was no hope of coming out of a fight alive, but -he knew that a weapon had a restraining effect if not -aimed at any particular person.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The Ataman lay face down upon the floor, his back -hunching up spasmodically, as if he were struggling to -get to his feet. At times he drew his knees up, and then -his toes would slip back and he would fall upon the scimitar -with a musical clang, his life gurgling out through his -lips in a crimson stream. Presently he lay still, stretched -out at full length, his spurs sticking up from the heels of -his boots, the gold knot of the scimitar hilt at his left -side, and the toe of the scabbard showing at the right, -and his great white cap near his head on the floor.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin spoke first. “Go and tell Bouran that the -Ataman is dead,” he ordered one of his men. “But let -no one else know. You others stand outside and let no -one enter or have knowledge of what has happened here.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin recovered herself and slipped from Peter’s arm. -She looked round wildly, and then went to her father. -He lay back against the chair, held upright by Slipitsky, -though the old general’s body swayed from side to side -as he was gripped by the tremors of his agony. His -hands were clutched to his breast, holding the old peasant’s -coat against his wound.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>Peter followed after Katerin, for he felt now that whatever -Shimilin intended against them in retaliation for the -killing of the Ataman would not come in the form of summary -action. Katerin was on her knees before her father, -speaking to him tenderly in her anguish for him, and at -times sobbing out prayers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael opened his eyes and stared up at Peter, and let -his hands fall upon Katerin’s head. A spasm of pain -crossed his graying face, and he opened his mouth several -times before he could speak.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Save her!” he gasped to Peter. “Now I—no -longer stand between you—forgive—forgive——” -His breath failed him, and his breast heaved as he was -shook by a mighty convulsion.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Die in peace, Michael Kirsakoff,” said Peter. “I -forgive.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael recovered himself for a brief space.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Good!” he whispered. “Every man has his wolf to -kill, but it is better—I was but a millstone hanging from -her neck—but now you can save her—you forgive——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“As I hope to be forgiven, I forgive,” said Peter, putting -his face down close to Michael. “Do you hear me, -Michael Alexandrovitch?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>A smile came into Michael’s pain-tortured face—a -smile of helpless assent, with which was mingled his joy -at Peter’s words. But still he was troubled, and his -head shook with his effort to express his further wishes.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Save her—from the Ataman!” he pleaded.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The Ataman is dead,” said Peter. “Look! There -upon the floor!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael’s eyes roved as Peter stepped aside, and finally -rested upon the prone body of Zorogoff.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A-h-h!” cried Michael. “The Ataman submits to -the general of his Emperor! My Katerin, do not be sad -for me—let the birds sing for both of you—I go happy—God’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>blessing upon you both—Gorekin—I, who go -to meet the dead, sal—ute——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Shimilin came and stood beside Peter. The Cossack -captain drew off his cap, crossed himself, and uttered a -few words of prayer. Michael’s dimming eyes saw him—and -revealed a new terror.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Shimilin!” he gasped.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Have no fear of me, Michael Alexandrovitch,” said -Shimilin. “You, nor your daughter need have no fear -of me.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter glanced at Shimilin in surprise, for the Cossack -captain was strangely gentle and sympathetic for a man -who might be expected to take vengeance for the slaying -of his chief.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I saved you both from Zorogoff, the time at the -house,” said Shimilin. “It was I who prevented an execution -because you would not give up your money. If -you had trusted me and given me the money, I would have -protected you, for I could have been Ataman then—as -I am the Ataman now.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have succeeded Zorogoff?” asked Peter, in -startled amazement.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am the new Ataman,” repeated Shimilin. “We -Cossacks had a plot, but all was not ready——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“God’s blessing—on—my little——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Michael’s head fell forward upon his chest, and he was -dead.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin gave a wailing cry and put her hands tenderly -upon the cheeks of her father. Peter and Shimilin turned -away to leave her with her dead, while Slipitsky stole out -into the other room to return with the icon from the corner -in which stood Michael’s bed. The Jew put the sacred -image into the wasted hands of him who had been Michael -Alexandrovitch Kirsakoff, governor and general of the -Czars in the Valley of Despair.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span> - <h2 class='c015'>XXVI<br /> <br /><span class='c020'>FAREWELL</span></h2> -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c022'>THE morning was cold and foggy. Through the -gray and frozen haze came the sounds of voices, -the creaking of boots, the jangle of a distant bell -from the horses of a troika—a ghostly world filled with -ghostly shapes, hidden, yet full of unseen life. It was -just such a morning as that one in the past when Peter -Petrovitch waited for the Czar’s mail, and the column of -unfortunates went clanking out into the wilderness to cut -wood under a guard of Cossack soldiers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And he who had been Peter Petrovitch sat this morning -by the window of his room in the Dauria Hotel and gazed -out over the world of floating mists—Lieutenant Peter -Gordon of the United States Army. In the hall, outside -his door, were two tall Cossack soldiers with their rifles, on -guard.</p> - -<p class='c009'>A week had passed since the killing of the Ataman Zorogoff -and the death of Kirsakoff. There had been a mutiny -and an attempt by partisans of Zorogoff to kill Shimilin, -the new Ataman. But the Cossacks were behind Shimilin, -and the Mongols and other bandits who had stood with -Zorogoff found their power broken, their intrigues betrayed -and their leaders dead after firing squads. The -survivors fled up and down the railroad. The régime of -Zorogoff was at an end, with its looting, its terrorism, its -mailed fist which demanded tribute in exchange for protection.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The body of Zorogoff was not buried in Chita. The -second day after his death, there appeared in the city, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>from down Urga way, a lama from Outer Mongolia with -frosty whiskers, a pinnacle cap and a greatcoat of fine -fur with sleeves which reached to the ground. He came -with a retinue mounted on camels, and the leading man -held aloft a small purple banner which caused many men -to submit their necks when they saw it pass. For somewhere -down in the mountains to the south in the khanates -of the Kalkas tribes, there was a Prince, and when he -spoke, it was an order—an order to be obeyed.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And this lama of grave face and the tall cap summoned -the Ataman Shimilin and bartered for the body of Zorogoff, -who was half Mongol by blood, and that half of -interest to the holy men of Forbidden Tibet. Shimilin, -being wise in such things, knew how much he could ask -to the ultimate jewel—and got it. And as the lama -traded with Shimilin, there were hints of many more men -from Mongolia lurking outside the city, hidden by the -fog. A line of tiny fires gleamed at the edge of the plain, -the Cossack outposts heard the grunting of baggage -camels, and the murmur of countless voices drifted in -through the fog.</p> - -<p class='c009'>So Zorogoff’s body was slung up between the humps of a -Bactrian camel, and the animal went swaying off through -the mist, with Zorogoff’s head nodding at the ground of -ancient Tartary in his last farewell.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Of these things Peter knew little. He was still in -danger, as was Katerin, for there were many in Chita -who sought a way to avenge Zorogoff. There were few -persons who knew Katerin had killed him, but such knowledge -spreads easily in Asia, where there are so many -ears listening, so many eyes watching, so many tongues -whispering in strange tongues. So Shimilin kept a guard -over the hotel, and in it, to see that Peter and Katerin -were well protected.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And Peter had seen little of Katerin during the week. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>He had attended the military funeral at daybreak which -Shimilin had granted the old general. Katerin was -there, hidden and hemmed in among the Cossacks who had -served under her father. Few knew who was being buried -in the cemetery on the hillside above the ruin of the old -prison. So it was that General Kirsakoff became a part -of the Valley of Despair which he had ruled.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin seemed to avoid Peter after the funeral. She -kept to her own rooms, with Wassili, except the night they -went with Shimilin and his soldiers to the old log house -and retrieved the fortune in rubles which was hidden in -the stove.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter waited till the days had softened her sorrow. He -knew she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, as he did -with his own. He had no way of knowing how her -thoughts would turn in relation to him, but one fact made -him happy—Katerin was safe for the time being. He -did not know that she possessed a fortune, and he supposed -that she would want to remain in Chita. He did -not want her to feel any debt toward him for having -helped her against the Ataman Zorogoff, and he did not -want to presume upon the fact that while she was under -the stress of death she had admitted her love for him. -There was a barrier between them he well knew—the barrier -of the circumstance that Peter would never have been -in Chita if he had not sought to kill her father; and -behind that, the circumstance that Peter had held her -father responsible for the killing of his own father, and -his own imprisonment. Peter knew there was nothing -which could wipe out those accursed facts, and that they -would hover over all thoughts Katerin might have for him. -He saw himself fettered by bonds of his own making—and -in the gyves of his love for her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>And how much he loved Katerin was just beginning to -break upon him with the full fury of an emotion which had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>long been pent within his heart. He had loved Russia -and his own kind; not the machinery of government which -had been known as Russia, but the land, the very soil—hills, -plains, and valleys. This love of his homeland was -now centered upon Katerin, for she had become to him a -personification of his own Russia, stricken and deserted -by the rest of the world. And he was possessed of a -passion to make amends for the vengeance which he -nursed against her father. He longed to cherish and -protect Katerin, to show her the land which had done -so much for him, to take her by the hand and walk -with her in the streets of the city where he learned that -every man may work out his own destiny without the -handicap of a system of government which measures what -each man may do and not do according to the rank of -his father—the land where the boy from a cabin may become -a Lincoln!</p> - -<p class='c009'>In his soul, Peter felt that he had betrayed America. -Though he had not killed Kirsakoff, Peter suffered torment -that Katerin knew how madly he had sought to -kill. And he feared that she would blame America, and -not him, for keeping alive that love for vengeance.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He passed the days pacing the floor of his room, or -sitting by the window. At times he was tempted to quit -the city and never see Katerin again. But he could -not do it. He preferred to take his punishment by -having her tell him to go—at least, he could fill that -place in his consciousness which had harbored hatred -for Michael Kirsakoff with the sorrow that Kirsakoff’s -daughter loved him yet would not face life with him. -He felt that it would all be easier to bear if he carried -with him a memory of his parting from her which would -always lash him for the dreadful plan which he had -devised and all but carried out.</p> - -<p class='c009'>As he sat there by the window this morning, there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>came a knock at the door. He admitted a messenger -from Ataman Shimilin—a tall young Cossack with boyish -face and filled with pride at the thought that once more -his own people controlled the city. He saluted and -clicked his polished steel spurs quite as if he were in the -presence of royalty.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“From the Ataman!” he announced, and bowed as he -handed a letter to Peter. It read:</p> - -<p class='c023'>I send two officers of my staff to-day to Vladivostok to -make report to the American commander that I, Shimilin, am -now Ataman, and that my government shall be just. I have -taken the private car of Zorogoff, and knowing that you intend -to return to Vladivostok soon, perhaps you would like to -travel by this wagon. It is advisable to go aboard the car, -which now stands in the station yards, while the fog still -holds, and be picked up by the next train. If you have any -friends to go with you, the station commandant is at your -orders. The Irkutsk train for Vladivostok will be here within -an hour, and it will pick up one of my armored cars for -safety. Perhaps you will be able to report to your superiors -that all Cossacks are not robbers and that we desire only the -salvation of our Russia. I salute you and America.</p> -<div class='c025'><span class='sc'>Shimilin</span>, Ataman.</div> - -<p class='c024'>Peter stepped to the writing table, picked up a pen, -and wrote on a slip of paper:</p> - -<p class='c023'>I shall go at once. Thank you for the kindness. I hope -to see the Ataman before I depart from his city.</p> -<div class='c025'><span class='sc'>Peter Gordon</span>, Lieutenant.</div> - -<p class='c024'>The messenger bowed, clicked, and left the room, and -Peter gathered his blankets and made them into a roll. -Then he paused a minute, thoughtfully—and finally -knocked upon the door leading to Katerin’s rooms.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The old serving woman who had been at the log house -opened the door just enough to peep through.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>“Tell your mistress that the American officer wishes -to say good-by, please,” said Peter, and the door closed -at once.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter was stricken with chagrin and disappointment. -He thought that Katerin might not see him and had given -her orders to that effect to her servant. He had expected -that the door would open for him—and it had -closed upon his request to see Katerin. He stood for -a moment, wondering if he should not go down to Slipitsky -at once, pay his bill, and go on to the car which -stood in the station yard.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Then the door opened, and Katerin herself stood before -him—a Katerin that he had never seen. She wore now, -instead of the poor garments in which he had seen her as -a samovar girl, the beautiful purple velvet gown which -reached to her slippers. Her hair was high upon her -head, dressed in the style of a Russian lady so that it -suggested a crown—lifted from the front and turned -back smoothly against the mass, and then drawn down -tightly across the ears. Tall, slender, and stately she -was now, such a woman as might be a princess of the -blood. Hanging from her neck was a gorgeous string -of pearls, and from her fingers gleamed jeweled rings. -And Peter’s heart sank as his eyes rested upon her, for -once again he realized with a pang that, after all, he was -but Peter Petrovitch, son of a poor exile, and Katerin -Stephanovna was of the Russian nobility. He saw a new -barrier between them, and one which he had forgotten in -his recent thoughts of her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>The joy which had come into his face at first glance at -her was dissipated by his realization that this was the -end for them, and he bowed a most formal bow.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She held out her hand to him, and he took it, like a -man in a trance, but conscious of the jewels on her fingers.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are going away?” she said, with concern in her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>eyes—a concern which he knew to be politeness. She -was still pale, he thought, and wistfully sad for her -father.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes,” he said. “I am to go—Shimilin sends me -word that a private car is in the yards and——” He -let his eyes wander to the figure of the serving woman, -who was lurking behind the curtains which led to the far -room. He wondered what he could say for she seemed -so comfortable now with her servants—the old woman -and Wassili—and so self-sufficient. How could she be -otherwise than rich, he thought, with such clothes and -such jewels? He wished that she had kept her clothes as -a samovar girl, and then he might have found it possible -to give utterance to some of the words which pressed -him to be said. He would have found it much easier to -blurt out what was in his heart if she had not been so -grand and disconcerting in that velvet gown. He sensed -a hurt within himself that she had done this—could it -be that she had dressed herself deliberately for their meeting -so that he should find it easy to keep his place?</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You have called to say good-by,” she said, and drew -aside slightly. “Then you must come in—and we shall -have a glass of tea.” Then, as if she divined what was in -his mind about her changed appearance, she added, “We -Kirsakoffs never mourn our dead with garments—an old -custom of our warrior clan—instead, we wear our best, -out of respect for those who have gone—and these poor -things are the best I have. So please do not think it -strange. Wassili! Fire the samovar and fetch fresh -water for a guest of the house!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But are you safe?” burst out Peter. “You are in -danger enough from those who may know you killed the -Ataman, without revealing your jewels and your good -clothes! There may be a rising against Shimilin at any -time—the Bolsheviki—the bandits from Mongolia! It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>is too bad that you have put on these clothes—for your -own safety!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are afraid I shall be killed because I killed Zorogoff?” -she asked, with the ghost of a smile on her lips.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, I am afraid,” he went on earnestly. “You -should have remained in the dress of a samovar girl——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Oh, but I have done playing at being a samovar girl,” -she laughed. “If I am to die, I shall die as a Kirsakoff, -and not as a servant. So you are leaving the city soon?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I am leaving at once. Shimilin has sent me word -that a private car is in the yards—and I cannot disregard -such a hint, for he may mean it as a command. -And—why don’t you go too?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I? Go? Where?” she seemed amazed at the idea.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“To Vladivostok. You would be safe there, and safe -on the train. Take this chance to escape from the city, -while Shimilin has control.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She sat down and gestured him to a chair before her.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I, too, have heard from Shimilin—about the car. -But I shall not go.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter’s face showed his disappointment. He had hoped -that she might be induced to leave Chita, and by getting -away from the scene of her father’s death and her old -home, her memory of why Peter had gone to the city -would be dimmed. Now he saw that she was determined to -let him go his way—she wanted to see him no more, she -wanted to forget him. And yet, he remembered, she had -told him she loved him! He wondered if it were possible -that she had admitted a love only because she wanted to -save her father. Was that what she had meant when -she said she had done with playing at being a samovar -girl? That she had done with duplicity because there -was no further necessity for duping him?</p> - -<p class='c009'>“It is a pity that you will not go,” he said wearily. -He regretted that he had asked to see her at all, for he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>suspected that she was inclined to laugh at him now -because as a samovar girl she had been able to deceive him -so thoroughly.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“At least, I shall not go now,” she said. “Perhaps -later—for there will be nothing to keep me here now.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Then come!” he pleaded, leaning forward, and holding -out his hand. “I know what there is between us—Katerin. -I know now how wrong I was about your father—I -can claim no credit for having helped you the little -I did—I want no credit—but I was blind with hate for -the old régime. Now I wish to help you——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He stopped and shook his head, seeing that he was not -giving her help to get away from the city—Shimilin had -already done that if he had offered her the use of the -private car. It struck him now that perhaps her suggestion -that she might leave later had something to do -with his going now—she did not want to travel with him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She sat tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair -and looking at the rings on her hand, reflectively, yet with -something that told she had already made up her mind as -to what she should do and that they were talking to no -purpose.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I tell you,” he began again. “I shall not go with the -car, if you will consent to leave for Vladivostok. If you -prefer that I should not——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, you must not stay here,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But I shall stay if you do not go!” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She gave him a startled look. “Stay? Why, you -cannot stay here always. I thought you came to say -good-by.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He stood up. “If you wish it, it shall be good-by,” he -said. “But I am not going away.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You must not be absurd,” she said, and stood up -also, a faint trace of color in her cheeks. “Why should -you remain here?”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>“Because I care for your safety, that’s why! I promised -your father that I would protect you and——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She tossed her head back, and regarded him through -half-closed lids.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You may consider yourself released from that promise,” -she said. “You owe no debt—do not trouble -yourself on that score, because——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Katerin!” he cried, holding out his hands to her -imploringly. “You know what I mean—you know that -your father desired your safety! Then let us forget my -promise, but——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You do not make your promises to keep them, is that -it? Then you are not bound by anything, Peter——” -She shrugged her shoulders and turned her face from -him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Go on!” he commanded. “You were going to say -‘Peter Petrovitch.’ Why have you turned against me? -Katerin, I love you, and even if you will let what has happened -stand between us, I want to see that you -escape——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You but want to keep your promise to my father, and -you think only of what he may have desired about me!” -she retorted with a show of anger, her face aflame. “You -have no debt to a Kirsakoff, living or dead, in any way! -Do I owe you anything? Perhaps I do, but I can pay -you! What price, I ask? What price, Peter Petrovitch -Gorekin?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>He stood dumfounded and gazed at her. She turned -abruptly, and opened the top of a trunk which he had -not seen before.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What price?” she demanded.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Price! Price!” he gasped. “Why, you owe me -nothing! Please do not insult me—I wished to see you -again—I wished to say good-by—please, mistress——” -the word escaped him,—the word of deference to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>upper class, the word of recognition that she was impossibly -above him in the Russian social caste.</p> - -<p class='c009'>She let the top of the trunk fall, and putting her hands -to her face, burst into tears. Just then Wassili stuck his -head through the green curtains and looked in, startled -and angry. Peter was about to reassure the <i>moujik</i> that -no harm threatened his mistress, but before Peter could -speak, Wassili burst through the curtains and he held in -his hand a great knife. The Slavic battle rage took possession -of Peter at sight of the knife, and all the restraints -imposed upon him by civilized life left him in one mad -instant. He knew but one thing—he loved Katerin, and -Wassili was going to stand in the way. The blade in the -<i>moujik’s</i> hand swept away all the fine perplexities which -had harassed Peter—these points of honor which he saw -as a barrier between him and Katerin. He snapped out -his pistol and pointed it at Wassili.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Get back through that curtain!” he commanded, and -stepped forward toward Wassili. The <i>moujik</i> pressed -back, but did not leave the room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What’s this?” cried Katerin, turning upon Peter -angrily.</p> - -<p class='c009'>He made no reply, but shifting his pistol into his left -hand, he kept Wassili covered with the weapon. Then he -paused for an instant. Before Katerin or Wassili understood -his intent, Peter seized her with his right arm and -lifted her against his shoulder. With his left elbow under -his head, he kept the muzzle of the pistol toward Wassili, -and backed out of the room through the open door into -his own room.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Peter put Katerin upon her feet, just as Wassili moved -after him—and Peter beckoned the <i>moujik</i> on.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what may this be about?” demanded Katerin, -staring at Peter as though she suspected that he was -bereft of his senses.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“A marriage by abduction—the old folk custom of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>our people,” declared Peter grimly. “Wassili! You -bear witness! I have taken Katerin Stephanovna Kirsakoff -from her house to mine—and there must be a witness. -She is now my wife—and she must do as I say. -So put away the knife—you cannot take from me the -woman I have stolen!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Katerin burst out in laughter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You Peter Petrovitch!” she exclaimed. “I thought -you were an American—and yet you are Russian—stealing -a wife by the old custom! Do you think I am to -take this seriously?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You will find it is serious—till you are safe in -Vladivostok,” retorted Peter. “Then—well, once you -are safe, you may do as you wish. But I am master till -then.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She laughed again.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“So you are American after all—in Vladivostok I may -do as I wish! How can you call yourself Russian? Go -away, Wassili—it is but a joke!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>Wassili, not quite sure it was such a joke, put away -his knife, and went back to the far room. Katerin shut -the door, and then turned to Peter, who stood looking -at her, resenting a trifle her taking it as a joke at -all.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“We shall go aboard the car at once,” he said. “Get -ready your baggage, please.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Ah, he is Russian again!” laughed Katerin.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“What does it matter if I am Russian or not?” said -Peter. “When I try to consider your feelings, you -insult——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“No, no, Peter,” she begged, and went to him and put -her hands gently on his sleeves, looking up into his face. -“You did not understand—you know nothing of a -woman’s heart—I told you once that I loved you——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes!” cried Peter. “You told me that, and then -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>you insist upon staying here when I want to protect you—when -you know there is a chance to go——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Growl—growl like a Russian bear, Peter! But did -you not come to say good-by?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“To take you with me if I could.” He seized her -hands. “O, Katerin, think this over and see what I want -you to see—when you get to Vladivostok——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“And what when I get to Vladivostok? What am I -to do when I get to Vladivostok?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Well, you will know what you want to do, then?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Do about what?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I want you to marry me—to go to America—to——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>She stamped her foot.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You are a hopeless American!” she cried. “I like -you better as a Russian, Peter Petrovitch!” She dropped -her head, and as he gave a cry of joy, she looked up, her -face radiant with joy and flushed with color.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Katerin! You will marry me?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How can I help myself—I have been stolen by the old -law, and now——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, what?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I know that you want me—not for a promise—but -for myself—Peter——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“O God!” he cried, “I know now I am forgiven!” and -he crushed her to him.</p> - -<p class='c009'>Presently there came a knocking at the door of Katerin’s -room, and the old serving woman came when Katerin -called to her to enter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Tell Wassili to pack my baggage,” said Katerin. -“We are all going to Vladivostok—at once.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“But let Wassili first go for a priest,” said Peter. -“And do not cry, my love—we shall both say farewell -forever to the Valley of Despair, and our journey’s end -shall be America—our America.”</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>“America!” she whispered, looking through the window -as if her eyes saw behind the fog-banks a strange land. -“What a wonderful country America must be!”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“You cannot know till you have seen,” said Peter.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I know now,” she replied, smiling through her tears, -“I know now, Peter Petrovitch.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“How can you know, my love?”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Because—I know a Russian who became an American—the -son of a bootmaker—a bootmaker who was -an unfortunate—a poor boy——”</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Hush, hush!” he said, and put his arms about her -again, seeing where her thoughts were straying—to the -fresh brown mound on the bleak hillside by the ruin of -the old prison. “They are together, your father and -mine. Because of that, we shall not forget our Holy -Russia. Would not they both be happy—are they not -both happy, knowing what they must know now, and -seeing what the dead must see? We living think we would -do one thing, but is it not that the dead guide us, knowing -better than we what is before us and what we shall do -before we have finished? Truly, as the wise say, from -evil good—my love was here but I did not know it—and -now I have found her.”</p> - -<p class='c009'>And as the fog shrouded them from the street, there -was nothing to prevent him from kissing her once more.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div>THE END</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c013'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span><span class='xlarge'>APPLETON’S RECENT FICTION</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'><b>THE VAGRANT DUKE</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By GEORGE GIBBS</p> - -<p class='c009'>The author of “The Splendid Outcast” has here written another -smashing adventure novel. A Russian Duke, fleeing the Bolsheviki, -must work his way in America. Mystery and romance -are what he finds as superintendent of a queer old multi-millionaire’s -estate.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>THE INNOCENT ADVENTURESS</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By MARY HASTINGS BRADLEY</p> - -<p class='c009'>A family of the Italian nobility are hard up and as a solution -send their youngest daughter to search for a husband, wealthy, -in America. She is a brave and attractive little thing, and the -author of “The Fortieth Door” has known how to make her -adventures truly exciting.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>THE RAPIDS</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By ALAN SULLIVAN</p> - -<p class='c009'>A novel of the vigorous north, which tells the story of a man -who seeks to transform a simple village into a mighty city. -In the voice of the rapids he hears the urging towards his -ambition and the great love which comes to him.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>THE COUNSEL OF THE UNGODLY</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By CHARLES BRACKETT</p> - -<p class='c009'>A diverting comedy of society life. Peter Van Hoeven, an old -society man who finds himself penniless, takes a position as -butler to a very new-rich lady. Unusual and dramatic situations -ensue.</p> -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span><b>THE SLEUTH OF ST. JAMES’S SQUARE</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By MELVILLE DAVISSON POST</p> - -<p class='c009'>This master of mystery detective stories has found a new -method of constructing them that is a big contribution to detective -fiction. These tales carry one to all parts of the world, -to strange crimes and mysteries.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>THE UNSEEN EAR</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN</p> - -<p class='c009'>The author of “The Red Seal” and other great successes has -never built up a more baffling mystery than this. A man is -murdered in a Washington home; in the room sits a girl who -is deaf and does not hear what passes. Suspicion points in all -directions before the final surprising climax.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>PENGARD AWAKE</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By RALPH STRAUS</p> - -<p class='c009'>The most thrilling depiction since “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” -of the struggle in a man’s soul between the powers of good and -evil. Actual psychological fact is the basis of this remarkable -story of the love of two men, one malignant, the other sweet -and gentle, for the same woman.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>JOHN SENESCHAL’S MARGARET</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE</p> - -<p class='c009'>John Tempest, imprisoned in Turkey, loses all memory of his -true identity. Returning to England he is believed to be John -Seneschal, and is welcomed by the true John Seneschal’s parents -and even by his sweetheart Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span><b>THE AGE OF INNOCENCE</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By EDITH WHARTON</p> - -<p class='c009'>This great popular success marks the pinnacle of Mrs. Wharton’s -art thus far. It tells an absorbing story of New York -Society in its days of innocence, about 1880. “One of the best -novels of the twentieth century”, says William Lyon Phelps in -the <i>New York Times</i>.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>MISS LULU BETT</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By ZONA GALE</p> - -<p class='c009'>A splendid novel that portrays the sudden flowering of happiness -in the life of the family drudge, Miss Lulu Bett. Every -word of the book counts and the characters, from Grandma -Bett to the child Monona, are unsurpassed for living qualities.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>CHILDREN IN THE MIST</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By GEORGE MADDEN MARTIN</p> - -<p class='c009'>Stories that depict the virtues, the limitations, the sweetness -and the humor of the negro, from the emancipation down to the -present day. There is a true insight into the nature of this -people, who after fifty-six years of freedom, still see as in a -glass, darkly.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>LUCINDA</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By ANTHONY HOPE</p> - -<p class='c009'>This is the romance of a missing bride, who disappears on her -wedding day, leaving the world baffled and her fiancée ready to -pursue her to the ends of the earth. All of Anthony Hope’s -charming ability and knowledge of how to construct a truly -readable story are found in “Lucinda”.</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span><b>THE PORTYGEE</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By JOSEPH C. LINCOLN</p> - -<p class='c009'>Rich humor and insight into human nature are in this entertaining -novel by Joseph C. Lincoln. Everyone enjoys its story -of a romantic young fellow who goes to live down East with -his grandfather, a typical old salt. This is a best-seller, by the -author of “Shavings”.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>THE ADVENTUROUS LADY</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By J. C. SNAITH</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Witty, amusing, as light and sparkling as sun-flecked foam”—<i>New -York Times</i>. The daughter of an English peer changes -places with a governess, when traveling to the same destination, -where each is unknown. The results are highly entertaining.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>NANCY GOES TO TOWN</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By FRANCES R. STERRETT</p> - -<p class='c009'>Nancy Mary Yates goes to train as a nurse in a hospital. She -says she is hunting for a “Prince Moneybags”. The reader -eagerly follows her career, made zestful by her youth and brave -spirit. Nancy finds some unique characters in her path.</p> -<p class='c021'><b>THE PARTS MEN PLAY</b></p> - -<p class='c009'>By A. BEVERLEY BAXTER</p> - -<p class='c009'>A vital picture of a young American who finds himself among -England’s parasite, artistic social set during days of international -strife. The psychology of nations is interestingly shown, and the -unfolding of character under stress finely rendered.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c013' /> -</div> -<p class='c009'> </p> -<div class='tnbox'> - - <ul class='ul_1 c013'> - <li>Transcriber’s Notes: - <ul class='ul_2'> - <li>Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - </li> - <li>Typographical errors were silently corrected. - </li> - <li>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant - form was found in this book. - </li> - </ul> - </li> - </ul> - -</div> -<p class='c009'> </p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SAMOVAR GIRL ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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