Princess Zara

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by Ross Beeckman


  CHAPTER XV

  THE MURDER OF A SOUL

  Zara did as I requested. She seated herself upon the divan, and I satbeside her, with my arm around her. She rested her head against myshoulder, and in a low and dreamy tone she began, as if there had beenno hiatus, the continuation of that story which was to thrill me asnothing else of the kind had ever done.

  You must understand that she was pleading for my life, as she believed,in the relation of this bit of history which I was soon to learn hadtouched her so closely. She believed that my life could be saved onlyby means of my joining with the nihilists, in consenting to take theiroath, and to become one with them. I have often, at retrospectivemoments, gone back again to that hour, and lived it over in thought,wondering how I could still resist her when I listened to the passionof her utterances, and to a recital of the terrible wrongs that hadbeen visited upon those whom Zara loved, in the name of the czar.

  As before, she told the story as if I had been the participant in it;as if the young woman whose history it touched most closely, had beenmy own sister.

  In the retelling of it, I purposely render it as concise as possible,but I am utterly incapable of imparting to it the dramatic effect ofher recital, heightened and added to by her warm sympathies.

  "Remember," she said, "that I am representing you as the brother ofthis poor girl, Dubravnik. You, and your sister Yvonne, orphaned inyour youth, occupied together the great palace of your father's, andwere waited upon by an army of servants, many of whom had been in theemploy of your family before either of you were born.

  "Among your acquaintances there is another officer, one who is as greata favorite at court; and within the palace of the emperor, as you are.He is of good family, handsome, accomplished, and rich. Nevertheless,you dislike him, principally because he is in love with your sister andyou know that he is, in every way, unworthy of her. She shares theaversion which you feel for this man, declining all his advances, andat last refuses to receive him. Beginning with that time, he persecutesher with his attentions, to the point where you are led to interfere;but this man has already been to the czar, and has secured his royalapproval of the marriage. He laughs at you when you remonstrate. Youalso go to the czar, who listens attentively to all that you have tosay, finally consenting that Yvonne shall not be forced into themarriage against her will. This officer, when he hears of it, isfurious, and one night, at the club, he publicly insults you, so thatyou have no other course than to challenge him. He is a practicedduelist, and believes that he can kill you easily; thus he would leavethe coast clear for his further machinations. In the affair whichfollows, you surprise everybody by wounding your adversary quiteseriously; and during a few months that succeed the duel, you arerelieved of further anxiety concerning the matter. But he recovers; hereturns to his former position at the palace; and misjudging his powerand influence, insults you again, almost in the presence of theemperor. For that, he is banished from the palace, and degraded in thearmy; and quite naturally he attributes his misfortunes to you, uponwhom he vows vengeance. You hear of his threats, but laugh at them--andforget them. He does not.

  "This man becomes a nihilist and a dangerous one. He plots and plansfor your overthrow, and for the possession of your sister whom hecontinues to persecute in many ways. She does not tell you thesethings, fearing the consequences if you were to fight another duel. Atlast, however, more or less of it comes to your attention, and theconsequence is that you publicly horsewhip him, for which act you aresuspended from attendance at the palace for thirty days. During thatinterval a horrible thing occurs. It is at the time when the extremistsamong nihilists are rampant, and when the secret police does its deadlywork unquestioned; a time five years ago. People are arrested andspirited away, from among the highest and the lowest. Victims are foundin the palace as well as in the hovel. No person is sacred from thesemysterious arrests; no tribunal hears a victim's defense; no officialdares to interfere. Even you may at any moment become a victim of thisawful method. A complaint is lodged against a wholly innocent person,no matter by whom; it may even be anonymous. In the dead of nightpolice from the Third Section visit the house of the person complainedagainst, a search is made, and if incriminating documents are found,that person disappears forever. Where? nobody knows save those whocarry out the secret decree. I will not worry you with the uselessdetails; in fact you have had sufficient introduction to the storyalready.

  "Twice each week since your expulsion from the palace you are compelledto remain on duty over night, and at last the morning comes when youreturn to your home after one of these vigils to find yourself face toface with a horror which you knew existed, but which you had neverbefore comprehended. Ah, it is pitiful; but listen. You find when youarrive, that all is excitement. The servants are running hither andthither; they whisper among themselves, and at first you can get noexplanation from them. In vain you call for your sister. Frightenedglances, sobs, and groans, are the only replies you get, and you rushto her apartment, only to find that it is empty--that she is gone. Theroom is in the utmost disorder. Clothing is scattered everywhere.Yvonne's most sacred treasures are strewn upon the floor. The contentsof her dressing case are tumbled in confusion upon the furniture.Chairs are overturned. The cushions of the chairs and couches areripped open. The bed is a ruin, dismembered, torn apart, and heaped ina corner. The carpet has been pulled from its fastenings, and is rolledand tumbled into a mass in the middle of the floor. The pictures aretorn from the walls; vases have been overturned; even the French clock,on the mantel, has been ruined in the awful search, and the very wallsof the room are dented by the hammer which has pounded them in theeffort to find a secret hiding place. You know only too well what hashappened, and yet you do not realize it. You are dazed. You think thatyou will awake and find that it is all a dream. You cannot believe thatit is the sleeping room of your own sister that has been thus invadedand desecrated. At last from one of the older and more trusted servantsyou hear the truth, and while he speaks, you listen dumbly,wonderingly."

  Zara left her place beside me on the divan, and stood facing me, nearthe center table, and in the intensity of her story, lowered her voiceperceptibly. She bent forward a little, unconsciously throwing over methe same sort of spell that now dominated her. In my own eagerness Ileaned forward, my right elbow resting upon my knee, and with batedbreath, waited for her to continue. When she did resume, it was with asuppressed intensity that is indescribable.

  "This is what the old servant told you: An hour after midnight therewas a peremptory summons at the door, and when he opened it hediscovered beyond the threshold, one of those terrible details offiends which the Third Section sends out on its foulest errands; but hedid not dream that they were after your sister; he only thought thatyou were in trouble. The officer in charge went straight to the door ofyour sister's room, as if he were as familiar with the internalarrangements of the house, as were its regular inmates. He threw thedoor ajar without warning, and followed by the scoundrels whoaccompanied him, entered the room where your sister was in bed.Sleeping innocence was aroused by a brutal command. Your sister, aspure, as sweet, as guiltless of wrong, as beautiful in spirit as theangels in heaven, was dragged from her bed by the rough hands of thosehuman devils. Her shrieks and cries, were answered by jeers. Herpiteous appeal that they would leave the room until she clothedherself, was refused with curses. She was compelled to dress in theirpresence, underneath the blazing glare of every light in the room, andbefore the eyes of those inhuman wretches whose gloating, bloodshotgaze befouled her sweet purity, as a drop of filth will befoul a limpidspring."

  "If you had entered the room at that moment, and the czar had beenthere, would you have killed him, Dubravnik? Have you a sister? Answer!Would you have killed the czar, if he had been there? THE CZAR WASTHERE!"

  Zara raised herself to her full stature as she cried aloud thisstatement. Her right hand was raised high above her head; her attitudewas one of righteous denouncement, and the wrath of an outraged goddessgl
owed like living fire, in every attribute of her being. Then she camea step nearer to me, and continued:

  "He was there in the spirit of the outrage. He creates and upholds thelaw which permitted it. Yes, you would have killed him, and you wouldnot have called it murder. You would have given the deed another name;you would have called it retribution. I see it in your face; it flashesin your eyes. I am not telling you a romance, in order to excite yourcompassion, or to create sympathy. I am relating an actual occurrence.I am telling you the story that made me a nihilist."

  What a woman Zara was at that moment! She seemed the embodiment ofvengeance--of righteous retribution; the personification of the causeshe so splendidly advocated. I looked upon her almost with awe, at thesame time realizing that I was thrilled almost into active acquiescenceto her demands. She continued:

  "There are not words to describe the emotions that sweep over you, asyou listen to the servant's story. You become benumbed, dazed. You hearit through to the end, and there is not much more.

  "You learn from him that papers of incriminating character were foundamong your sister's effects; that a letter was there, which told thatshe was engaged in a conspiracy to assassinate the czar, by poison;that she, being a welcome guest at the imperial palace, had agreed toput poison in the wine that he should drink on the following day--adeadly poison--cyanide of potassium; that the poison itself was foundwith the letter--a harmless looking powder, but a deadly one. You aretold that Yvonne was dragged away by those men, and taken--ah, theservant could not tell you where they took her; but he could tell youhow she sobbed, and moaned, protesting her innocence, repudiating allknowledge of the things they had found, crying out for you, in heragony; and how one of the men struck her a brutal blow in the face,because she would not be quiet. That is all the servant could tell you.Yvonne was gone. That one truth glared at you from every hideous cornerof the desecrated room. Hours--many of them--have passed since then.You laugh wildly, insanely, as you brush the servant aside, and dashfrom the house in pursuit.

  "'The czar is my friend! He is her friend! He will save her!' That iswhat you cry aloud as you run along the streets towards the palace,forgetting your _britzska_, in your haste, and agony. You forget thatyou have been suspended from attendance at the palace, and that theguards have been ordered not to admit you, but you are made to rememberit when you arrive. They stop you. You cannot get past them. In vainyou tell them of the arrest of your sister, and that you must see theemperor, but you only give them an added reason for keeping you out.They order you away. You refuse to go. They attempt to force you, andyou strike one of them, knocking him down."

  "Then all your pent up agony is loosed. You have the strength of adozen men. You scatter the guards around you like flies, and rush pastthem, straight for the cabinet of the emperor, where you have alwaysbeen a welcome guest. You tell yourself that he loves you--that heloves your sister; that as soon as he hears the truth, he will correctthe awful wrong that has been done; that the men who outraged thesanctity of your sister's sleeping room, will be punished. Ah! You donot know the czar--that man whom you call your friend; who is God's andman's worst enemy!

  "But you are soon to know him better. You are soon to discover whatmanner of man it is to whom you have given your soul and body, yourallegiance and your worship, all the years of your life. You are soonto know--and oh, how bitter is the awakening.

  "You dash unannounced into his presence. In a wild torrent of words,you pour forth the awful tale. You laugh, you cry; you implore, youdemand; he only frowns, or smiles derisively. You rave; he calls theguard. You find that he _does_ know; that others have been there beforeyou, and that the letter supposed to have been found in the possessionof your sister, has already been read by him. With horror, you realizethat he believes--that there is no hope for the sister you love sotenderly, who was placed in your arms by your dying mother; whom youswore to guard, and protect.

  "That terrible man, who commits thousands of murders by proxy everyyear, frowns upon you, who have been almost like a son to him. Hesneers at your agony. He believes all that has been told to him againstyour sister--he is even willing to believe that you are a party to hersupposed misdeeds.

  "'Forget your sister. She is dead to you, and to me,' his majestycommands you, coldly. 'I can forgive you for your present excitement.Forget her.'

  "FORGET HER!! God! Forget your sister? Forget the little girl who wasput into your arms when a child? Forget the glowing, gorgeous,beautiful young woman she has become? Then you loose another torrent ofwords. You curse your emperor. You revile the sacred person of theczar. You go mad; you even try to strike him. Ah! It is awful, youragony. The guard seizes you. The straps are torn from your shoulders.The buttons are cut from your coat. The czar himself uses his greatstrength to break your sword across his knee, and so far forgets hisdignity that he strikes you in the face with his open hand; and thenyou are hustled to the palace gate, and thrust into the street,disgraced, helpless, insane." Zara paused an instant, then continued,monotonously:

  "Then begins months of hopeless waiting. Every day you beg admittanceto the palace. Every day you are refused. You write letters, beggingthat you may be told where your sister is detained, that you may go toher; that you may share her exile. They are unheeded. You know that sheis in Siberia, but Siberia is a vast place--greater than all Europe.You petition men and officers who used to fawn upon you when you werein favor, for information concerning her. They will not even speak toyou. They have been ordered not to do so. At last, when nearly fivemonths have passed in this way, friendless and alone, for your propertyhas been taken from you, you join the nihilists."

  Zara crossed to the divan and seated herself beside me, clasping one ofmy hands in hers, and clinging to it as if she were herself in dangerof being torn from my side, or of losing me. For a time she pressed myhand between hers, or stroked it gently, and when she resumed speech,it was in a softly-spoken voice.

  "Then you find friends," she said, gently. "Through their agents, thenihilists ascertain where your sister has been taken. You learn thatshe is a prisoner on the unspeakably horrible island of Saghalien. Yes,and they tell you more, these new friends and helpers whom you havefound among the nihilists. They know about the plot that sent herthere. They know that the very man who pretended that he loved Yvonne,bribed one of your servants to place those awful papers among herthings, that they might be found there by the police. You search forhim, but he is abroad, so you seek out, and find, the servant who wasbribed; and him, you strangle. After that, you disappear. The nihilistsreport that you are dead. St. Petersburg believes it. But you are notdead. You are on your way to Saghalien. Your new friends assist youwith disguises; they aid you on your long journey; they provide youwith money; and somehow--you never know how--you reach Saghalien, onlyto find that Yvonne is not there; that she has been transferred. Thenyou begin a weary search which consumes months; so many of them, thatthey swell into two long years. You go from prison to prison, from townto town, from hope to despair, from despair to hope, and atlast--YOU FIND HER!"

  Zara dropped to her knees before me. I knew that the climax of herstory was at hand. Her beautiful eyes, widened, and speaking dumbly ofinfinite sorrow, sought mine, and held them. I bent forward, and kissedher on the forehead. Then she resumed:

  "You find her in a far away prison in the north. You find her halfclothed, lost to all sense of modesty, the sport, the victim, the THINGof the inhuman brutes who are her guards. You find her body; herbeautiful soul has fled. She is not dead, but she gazes at you with avacant stare of unrecognition. She laughs at you when you tell her thatyou are her brother. She does not know you. She has forgotten her ownname. She taunts you with being another brute, like the men she hasknown there, in that foul haunt of unspeakable vices. Then you go quitemad. You clasp her in your arms, and draw her slender body against you.When you release her, she falls at your feet, dead, for you have buriedyour knife in her heart. Never again will she be the sport of brutalmen. You have dealt out
mercy to your suffering sister, and the agonyyou have endured gave you the necessary strength of will. You are God'sagent in the deed."

  I could feel that Zara was shuddering with the horror of the scene shehad described; not at the deed of that brother who stabbed his sisterto death to save her, but because of the awful fate of that poor girl,which the tragic act of her brother brought to an end. I drew Zaratenderly into my arms, and held her so for a long time, while she weptsoftly, with her head pillowed against my shoulder; and after a timeshe resumed, haltingly:

  "When you turned away from your tragic deed of mercy, you killed theguard who tried to stop you. You made your escape; how, you do notremember; but you found your way back here--here, to St. Petersburg.Nobody recognized you. Your hair was white, your face was the face of acorpse. You had one more purpose; the death of two men, the czar andthe conspirator. And so you went again to your friends, the nihilists.Hush! I am not through yet. There is more--much more, much more!"

 

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