The White Terror and The Red: A Novel of Revolutionary Russia

  CHAPTER XIII.

  A GENDARME'S SISTER.

  When Pavel told his mother that he was going out he expected to meetMakar, who had been in Miroslav for the past four days. Once again hewas going to plead with him to give up his scheme. The affair kept Pavelin bad humour, but that morning his mind was occupied by the thoughtthat there was an interesting meeting in store for him. In the eveninghe was to make the acquaintance of Clara Yavner, the heroine of thePievakin "demonstration."

  On his way down the spacious corridor he was stopped by Onufri, hischeeks still hollower and his drooping moustache still longer andconsiderably greyer than of yore. Pavel had once tried to make a convertof him, but found him "too stupid for abstract reasoning." Onufri waspolishing the floor. As Pavel came past he faced half way about and gavehim a stern look from under his bushy eyebrows.

  "They've pinched a gentleman, the blood-guzzlers." Saying which he fellto dancing on his foot-cushions again.

  "What do you mean?" Pavel asked, turning white as he paused.

  "You know what I mean, sir. You know you do," answered Onufri, going onwith his work.

  "Is it true? Who made the arrest? Gendarmes?"

  "That's it. I wouldn't bother your Highness if the police'd nabbed acommon crook, would I?"

  The servant bent on his young master a long look of sympatheticreproach, adding under his breath:

  "You had better give it all up, sir. Better let it go to the devil."

  "Give up what? What on earth are you prating about, Onufri?"

  A few minutes later, while Pavel was destroying some papers in his room,the door swung open and in came Onufri. The old man burst into tears anddropped to his knees.

  "Take pity, sir," he wailed, kissing Pavel's fingers. "You've playedwith fire long enough, sir. If they put you in prison, the murderers,and sent you away it would kill her Highness, your mother."

  "Get up, Onufri. I have no patience with you just now, really Ihaven't."

  "It's bad enough when your Highness takes chances in another town, butif you're mixed up in this here thing, sir----"

  "I'm not mixed up 'in this here thing.' Don't bother me. Come, get up.Up with you, now. There is a good fellow!"

  The old hussar obeyed distressedly.

  Instead of going to the place where he expected to see Makar, Pavel wentto the house of Major Safonoff, the gendarme officer, anuncomfortable-looking frame building across the river. As he approachedit, Masha, the major's sister, who stood at a second story window atthat moment, apparently waiting for somebody, burst out beckoning to himand stamping her feet. Her excited gesticulations drew the attention ofa knife-grinder and two little girls. Pavel dropped his eyes. "She is aperfect idiot," he said to himself in a rage, "and I am another one. Theidea of taking up with such a creature!"

  "Didn't you torture me!" she greeted him on the staircase. "I thought myheart was going to snap. Don't be uneasy. I have dismissed our servant.There is nobody around." When they reached the low-ceiled parlor, shesank her voice and said solemnly, yet with a certain note of triumph:"He was arrested at four o'clock yesterday on the railway tracks. Thegendarme office had information that he was in the habit of taking walksthere. I happened to be away--think of it! At a time like that I wasaway. Else I should have let you know at once, of course. Anyhow, he'sthere."

  "You say it as if it was something to rejoice in," Pavel remarked,disguising his rage. "It's quite a serious matter, Maria Gavrilovna."

  Mlle. Safonoff stared. "But we'll get him out. Why, are you afraid wemayn't? I see you're depressed and that makes me miserable, too. Reallyit does."

  "Do I look depressed? Well, I must confess I rather am. It's no laughingmatter, Maria Gavrilovna," he said, flushing.

  "Oh, well, if you are going to talk like that. That is I myself haven'tthe slightest doubt about it. Only you frighten me so. If this thing isgoing to last another week it will drive me mad." Her childish eyesshone with tears. "Why should you take such a gloomy view of it? I mustsay it's cruel of you, Pavel Vassilyevich. Everything is just as Iexpected. He is as good as free, I assure you."

  Pavel answered, by way of consoling himself as well as her: "Well, maybeI do take it too hard. Our chances seem to be good, and--well, we mustget him out. That's all there is to it."

  "Of course we must. Now I like you, Boulatoff. We must and we will, andwhen the story is published--oh, I do wish we could get out specialproclamations!--anyhow, won't it make a stir!" She paused and thenresumed, in a new burst of frankness, "I know what makes you uneasyabout me. The great trouble with me is my lack of tact, isn't it? If Ihad that I would be all right. That's what worries you about me in thisaffair, isn't it, now? You're afraid I may make a mess of the wholebusiness. I know you are. Well, and I don't blame you, either. TheSafonoffs have never been distinguished for their heads. When it happensto be a matter of hearts, we hold our own, but brains, well--." She gavea laugh. "I tell you what, Boulatoff, I'm afraid of you, and I don'tcare to bear the brunt of this important affair. Anyhow, I want you tokeep an eye on me. I'll do all you want me to, but you must take theresponsibility off my shoulders, else I'll go crazy. What makes yousmile? You think I'm crazy already, don't you?"

  "I wasn't smiling at all. So far you have managed things beautifully. Iconfess I'm getting impatient. Well, I do feel wretched, MariaGavrilovna."

  She grasped his hand, shook it silently and whispered: "Don't be uneasy.We shall win."

  When Safonoff came home at the lunch hour he told of the excitement atthe gendarme office. His manner toward Boulatoff was a non-committalmixture which seemed to say: "You and I understand each other perfectly,don't we? Still, if you think you can get me to call a spade a spade orto help you you are mistaken."

  His compact, well-fed figure had the shape of a plum. He wasperpetually mimicking somebody or chuckling and his speech was full ofgaps, many of his sentences being rendered in dumb show.

  "My chief may get in trouble for having ordered the arrest too soon," hesaid. "We were to let the prisoner--" (he brandished his hand torepresent a man going around at large) "for some time, so as to let himshow us with whom he is acquainted. But my chief--" (he struck anattitude meant to caricature a decrepit, coughing, old fellow) "was allof a tremble for fear the canary-bird might take wing. You see he hadnever arrested a political before. You should have seen our men when wetook that chap on the railroad track. They were more frightened than he,I assure you, prince. They thought he was going to--" (he aimed animaginary dagger at Pavel and burst into laughter). "Monsieur Unknown iscertainly no coward whatever else he may be. You should have seen thelook of surprise and contempt he gave me!"

  Pavel beamed while Masha's face wore a pained expression. "It's time youhad left this nasty business of yours, Andrusha," she said.

  When Andrusha reached the assistant procureur's part in the case hesketched off a pompous imbecile. There was no love lost between thepublic attorney and the gendarme officers, so Safonoff described, withmany a gurgle of merriment, how, during the attempted examination of theprisoner, Zendorf, the assistant procureur (he burlesqued an obeisanceas the epitome of snobbishness) had tried to impress his uniformedrivals with his intellectual and social superiority.

  "You see, my chief is a rough and ready sort of customer. Whatever elsehe may be, frills and fakes are not in his line. So he went right at it.'Speak up,' he squeaked at the prisoner, 'speak up, or I'll have yourmouth opened for you.' So Zendorf called him gently to order and fixedhis dignified peepers at the prisoner. He expected to cast some sort ofspell over him, I suppose, but it was no go. As to me, I was justchoking. As bad luck would have it I took it into my head at that momentthat the best way to make that fellow talk would be to have his armpitstickled till he roared. Well, I had to leave the room to have my giggleout."

  Safonoff was indifferent to his sister's revolutionary ventures becausehe never vividly realised the danger she incurred. His mind retained themost lifelike impressions, but its sensitiveness was of the photographic
kind; it was confined to actual experiences. He had no imagination forthe future. He was an easy-going man, incapable of fear. People oftenarrived at the conclusion that he was "a fool after all." But then thereare fools who are endowed with a keen perception and a lively sense ofcharacter.

  Speaking of the warden of the jail, Safonoff impersonated a cringing,hand-kissing, crafty time-server. He had never met a convert Jew orconvert Pole who was not an adventurer and an all-round knave, he said,and Rodkevitch was the most typical convert Pole he had ever comeacross. The sight of money took his breath away, gave him the vertigo,made his eyes start from their sockets. Rustle a crisp paper ruble inhis ear and he will faint away.

  "He's a candidate for Siberia anyhow and he needs money to pull him outof some of the roguish schemes he is tangled up in. The contractors whofurnish his prisoners sand for flour and garbage for potatoes are hispartners in some of his outside swindles also. Do you understand,prince?" The question was put with special emphasis, which Pavelinterpreted as a direct hint at the possibility of bribing the warden.

  It occurred to Boulatoff that Makar's luggage was quite likely tocontain some incriminating papers or other things that might aggravatethe case. To fear this in view of Makar's notorious absent-mindednesswas quite reasonable. But this was not all. He had been bent upon makinghis arrest as important in the eyes of the Third Section as possible,and Pavel was almost certain he had left something in his lodgings onpurpose. "You never know what you are at with a crazy, obstinatebull-dog like that," he thought in a qualm of anxiety.

  When Safonoff had gone Pavel wrote a note to his imprisoned friendasking for the address of his lodgings.

  "Can you get this to him, and an answer brought back?" he demanded ofMlle. Safonoff in a peremptory tone.

  "I think so. My aunt will probably get it through. I am almost sure ofit, in fact."

  "There you are. You're _almost_ sure. Was this enough to let a man puthimself in the hands of the Third Section?"

  Mlle. Safonoff hurried out of the house in dumb dismay. After aninterval of less than an hour, which to Pavel seemed a year, she burstinto the parlour, accompanied by an older woman, whom she introduced asher aunt, Daria Stepanovna Shubeyko. Both were breathless withexcitement. They had the desired address, the sum Makar owed hislandlady and another note to the landlady. Pavel's heart swelled withjoy and gratitude, but he did not show it.

  "Very well," he said, with a preoccupied scowl. "And now for that trunkof his."

  The two women went on to describe, continually interrupting each other,their plans for setting Makar free, but Pavel checked them.

  "We'll discuss it all afterwards," he said. "What we need at this minuteis a coarse suit of clothes, something to make a fellow look like aworkman or porter. We must clear his room before his landlady hasnotified the police of his disappearance." The costume was brought byMasha. When Pavel emerged from the major's bedroom transformed into alaborer, Masha's aunt applauded so violently that he could not resistgnashing his teeth at her.

  "Excuse me, but I've never seen a real man of action before," shepleaded. "Now I feel newly born, really I do. I tell you what,Boulatoff, I'll go with you. In case of trouble I may be of some use,you know. We can't afford to let an active man like you perish."

  "But then if you perish," Pavel answered gayly, "there won't be anybodyto arrange that escape."

  "That's true," she replied forlornly. She was a healthy, good-lookingwoman with a smile so exultantly silly that Pavel could not bear to lookat it. Every time that smile of hers brightened her full-blooded face,he dropped his eyes.

  * * * * *

  There was the risk of his being recognised by somebody in the street.Then, too, Makar's lodgings might have been discovered by the police andmade a trap of. The errand was full of risks, but this only stimulated afeeling in which Pavel's passion for this sort of adventure was coupledwith a desire to vindicate himself before his own conscience by sharingin Makar's dangers.

  The trip was devoid of all adventure, however. Even his meeting with hismother was lost on him. He was sincerely contemplating the blind beggarat that moment.

  Makar's landlady was a garrulous Jewess. When she learned that herlodger had been taken ill at the house of a friend and that theworkingman had been sent for his things and to pay the bill, shelaunched out into an effusion of bad Russian that taxed Pavel's patiencesorely. She exacted the address of Makar's friend, so as to send thepatient some of her marvellous preserves. The prince left with the trunkon his shoulder--an excellent contrivance for screening his face fromview--but it proved too heavy, and when he came across a truckman whoagreed to take him and his load part of the way to his destination hewas glad to be relieved of the burden.

  While he was in the next room, shedding his disguise, Masha's auntbombarded him with impatient shouts and giggles. When he had opened thetrunk at last she insisted upon helping him examine its contents,whereupon she handled each article she lifted out as she might a holyrelic; and when the trunk proved to contain nothing of a compromisingquality even Pavel felt disappointed. Mme. Shubeyko overwhelmed him withquestions, one of which was:

  "Look here, Boulatoff, why shouldn't the people rise and put an end tothe rule of despotism at once? What on earth are we waiting for?"

  "If the people were all like you they would have done so long ago," heanswered, with a hearty laugh. He warmed to her in an amused way andfelt like calling her auntie; only that smile of hers continued to annoyhim.