CHAPTER IX.ONE SWORD AGAINST FIVE.
The result of Boris's reflections was that he became suspicious andunhappy. He felt that his position was a delicate and difficult one,and that it would be impossible for him to maintain it under presentconditions. Putting two and two together, he had concluded that therewas something existing in the minds of his brother officers to whichhe was no party, and which he feared--though he hesitated to believeit--might be treason against his beloved master. If this should proveto be the case, he reflected, what course ought he to pursue? Shouldhe inform the Tsar, and thus be the means of terrible trouble to theregiment of which he was a member, or allow matters to take theircourse in the hope that either his suspicions would prove unfounded, orthat his companions might shortly see the iniquity of their ways, andreturn to full loyalty, as behoved true officers of the Tsar? Afterall, it was merely a suspicion; all that talk about big dogs and littledogs might be the purest nonsense. What right had he to take seriousaction upon so feeble a suspicion? Boris finally decided that he woulddo nothing rash and ill-considered; for the generous Tsar would be thefirst to laugh at him for jumping at ill-based conclusions, and Boriswas very sensitive to derision, especially at Peter's mouth.
Very soon after the discussion on canine iniquity recorded above, Borishad the decision as to his duty in these trying circumstances takenout of his hands by the workings of destiny. Sitting over his dinnerat the restaurant patronized by the officers of the Streltsi, he foundhimself listening in spite of himself to the conversation of a groupof his companions dining at a table close to his own. The vodka hadflowed pretty freely, it appeared, and tongues were growing looser andslipping the leash which restraint and discretion usually put uponthem in the presence of Boris. The major, Platonof, was the noisiestspeaker--he of the dog story; and Boris several times recognized hissomewhat strident voice raised above that of his fellows, who, however,generally hushed him down before his words became distinctly audible.Once Boris overheard his own name spoken by one of the youngerofficers, whereupon the major said aloud,--
"What! simple Boris--our Bear-hunter? Why, he's a capital fellow is ourBoris--he's one of us--we needn't be afraid of Boris.--Need we, Boris?"he continued, looking tipsily over his shoulder at the hunter. "You'llfight for the lord of Russia, won't you, Boris, in case of need?"
"I'll fight for the Tsar with my last drop of blood, if that's what youmean," said Boris, flushing.
"Say the Tsar that should be--the friend of the church and of thepriests--in fact, the lord of Russia!" continued Platonof.
"Certainly the lord of Russia," said Boris, "but why the Tsar that'should be'?"
"Because," hiccoughed the major solemnly, "while Peter remains upon thethrone, the lord of Russia reigns only in our hearts. When the Streltsihave ousted the big dog from the little dog's kennel--Peter being thebig dog--and given the little dog back his bone--that's Ivan--then--"
Platonof never finished that sentence. Boris had sprung to his feet,and drawing his sword, dashed from the major's hand the tumbler whichhe tipsily waved before his face as he spoke these significant words.The vodka which the glass contained bespattered half the company asthey, too, rose excitedly to their feet.
"Traitors!" cried Boris, "so this is the meaning of your whisperingsand secrecy; and but for yonder drunken fool I might have remained inignorance of your treachery. Out with your swords and defend yourselvesif you are men. I am on Peter's side!"
The party consisted of the major and four others. All drew theirswords, including Platonof, who was somewhat unsteady, thoughpartly sobered by the turn events had taken. The rest were pale anddetermined, for they realized the fact that the tipsy major had plungedthem into a serious dilemma. Either they must kill this favourite ofthe Tsar, and incur Peter's wrath on that account, or else he mustbe allowed to escape alive, but with the certainty that all he hadheard would be repeated for Peter's private benefit. And then--well,the young Tsar's character was already sufficiently understood by hissubjects to leave no doubt in the minds of these Streltsi officers thathe would make a terrible example of them. Under the circumstances therewas practically no choice for them: it was Boris's life or theirs;Boris must not leave the room alive.
One of the younger officers sprang to the door and locked it, placingthe key in his pocket. Meanwhile Boris had crossed swords withPlatonof, but finding that the major was too unsteady to make a fightof it, he pushed him out of the way. Platonof tumbled over the table,dragging the glasses and bottles with him. This was fortunate forBoris, for it placed the table between himself and his adversaries, andprevented overcrowding.
Then the four men fiercely attacked the one, hacking savagely butunscientifically at him, each retreating as he thrust back. Boris hadthe advantage of a long reach, and before many blows had been exchangedhe had put one of his assailants _hors de combat_ with a straightthrust which penetrated his sword-arm. Boris knew, as yet, littleswordsmanship, but he had a good natural idea of thrusting straightand quickly, acquired in his bear-hunting days. He had, besides, theadvantages of great strength and agility, in both of which qualitieshe far excelled any of the five men opposed to him, of whom but threewere now left to carry on the battle. These three now separated, onepresently advancing from either side, while the third endeavouredto get behind him in order to take him in the rear. Boris backedtowards the wall, hoping to frustrate his intention, while the otherspressed him hard in the endeavour to entice him to follow one of themup. But Boris, waiting until his third assailant was well behind him,suddenly swept round with so terrible a backhander that the unfortunateofficer's arm was cut through and half of his body besides. The mandropped where he stood and never moved again.
Then Boris made so savage an attack upon his two remaining opponentsthat they fled, and were pursued by him twice round the room, fightingas they ran, until Boris, tripping over the sleeping major, fellamong the bottles and glasses. During the moment or two which expiredbefore the redoubtable bear-hunter could recover his footing, the twofugitive heroes succeeded in opening the door and escaping, but notbefore Boris, seizing a heavy wooden stool from the floor, hurled itafter them with so true an aim that it struck the hindmost between theshoulders, sending him head first downstairs, to the great injury ofhis front teeth and the bridge of his nose.
Then Boris endeavoured to arouse Platonof, to bid him see to hiswounded friends, but found this impossible. Moreover, he discoveredon looking up that the young officer first wounded had taken theopportunity, during Boris's preoccupation with the tipsy major, toescape through the open door. As for the fifth man, Boris soon foundthat he would need no help from the major or any one else. He thereforeadministered a final kick to the snoring form of Platonof, and quittedthe apartment which had witnessed so exciting a struggle for life.
Then only did Boris discover that he had not come through the fiercefight scathless. His hand was bleeding from a gash over the knuckles,and a pain just above the knee, and a rent in his kaftan, plainlyindicated that he had received a second wound more or less severe. Hewas able to walk home, however, to the palace in the Kremlin, and toattend to his duties about the person of the Tsar. But there the keenglance of Peter detected at once the cut over the fingers, and thisdiscovery was instantly followed by a demand for an explanation.
Boris had firmly resolved that even at the Tsar's bidding he wouldnever reveal the names of his assailants, or say more than wasabsolutely necessary as to the treasonable words which he hadoverheard. When therefore the Tsar inquired what was the matter withhis hand, Boris blushed and stammered, and said that he had hurt it.
"That much I see already," said Peter. "I see also that this is a swordcut, and that you have a rent in your kaftan. You have been fighting,my Bear-eater, but not with a bear this time, nor yet with a wolf,except it be a human one. Come, who is it? Don't be afraid, man--are wenot sworn brothers?"
"It is true, your Majesty, I have fought," said poor Boris, and stopped.
"And pray with whom," Peter insisted,
"and with what results? Come,Boris, this is interesting, and you shall tell me all about it ere wesleep to-night. I desire it. Have you killed a man? Speak up; I shallnot mind if the cause is good."
"I have killed a man, your Majesty," Boris stammered, "and the cause isgood. The man was an officer; he is dead, and therefore I may tell hisname--Zouboff, the Streltsi Captain, of my regiment."
"Oho! Zouboff killed--and the cause good!" said the Tsar, lookinggrave. "And the others of his company--Platonof, Katkoff, Zaitzoff,Shurin--what of them? Those five are never apart. Fear nothing, tellme all. I have watched them, and guessed their disaffection."
Boris was thunderstruck at the Tsar's knowledge, but he was notstartled into committing himself.
"There were others, your Majesty, who took his part; but I entreat younot to bid me name them, nor to insist upon the cause of our quarrel.It was but certain drunken nonsense to which I objected. I entreat yourMajesty to press me no further."
Peter strode up and down the apartment looking his blackest. For amoment or two it seemed as though the storm would burst; then his eyefell once more upon wounded Boris, and his brow cleared.
"And the rest," he asked kindly, "are they wounded too?"
"Some are wounded; one was too drunk to fight," Boris replied, hischeek flushing with martial ardour as he recalled the circumstances ofthe late encounter.
"Ho, ho!" laughed the Tsar; "would I had been there to see, my valiantBear-eater. Now I will tell you what happened before the fight, and youshall narrate to me, without mentioning names, how the fight itself wasconducted; that is a fair compromise. First, then, one of them--perhapsZouboff, who is dead, or drunken Platonof, who deserves to be--made aremark about one Peter Alexeyevitch Romanof which our Boris disapprovedof--no matter what he said. Then up strode Boris. 'Sir,' he said, 'youare a liar!' or words to that effect, perhaps striking the speaker withhis hand or with the back of his sword. Then out flew all the swords,five traitor swords against one honest and loyal one, and then--well,then comes your part of the story; so put off that melancholyexpression and speak up. I love to hear of a good fight."
Boris laughed in spite of himself, for the Tsar's acuteness delightedhim and comforted him also; for, he reflected, his puny enemies couldsurely never triumph over this mighty, all-seeing, all-knowing youngdemi-god, his master. Therefore Boris made no further difficulty aboutthe matter, but did as Peter bade him, and told the story of his fightin detail, naming no names.
Peter heard the tale with alternate rage and delight.
"Very good, my Bear-hunter," he said, when the recital was ended;"excellently good. You have done well, and for reward I shall take nonotice of the individuals concerned. But for your personal intercessionthey should have hung in chains to-morrow morning from the four cornersof their own barracks. I know their names, though you have notmentioned them. Now, good-night, Captain Bear-Eater--you are captainfrom to-morrow's date--and thank you."
Boris threw himself at the Tsar's feet in gratitude for the magnanimitywith which he had consented to forego his just wrath against thesetraitors--he could have kissed those feet in his joy and in theintensity of his relief--for he felt that though he would have nocompunction in slaying these men in fair fight, he could never haveforgiven himself had he as informer been the means of bringing them toa disgraceful end upon the gibbet.
"But grant me one more favour, your Majesty," he pleaded. "I will notask another until I shall have earned the right to do so; but grant methis one I entreat you: send our regiment far away from Moscow; send itto any distant garrison town, but do not let it remain here."
"And why not, my Bear-eater?" asked the Tsar, amused at the earnestnessof the appeal.
"Your Majesty knows why not," said Boris; "when a bough is rotten whowould lean upon it?"
"When a bough is rotten," repeated the Tsar, looking grave, "it is bestcut down and burned. But I will think upon your request--perhaps youare right--though, my Bear-eater, you too would go with them in thatcase, which would be regrettable. Meanwhile you take care of your ownskin, for the Streltsi officers hold together. Keep that good swordloose when you approach the dark corners of the city. I will think ofwhat you have said. Good-night!"