The Red Symbol

by John Ironside

  CHAPTER XLVII

  THE TRAGEDY IN THE SQUARE

  It was the flat of the sabre that had got me on the forehead, otherwisethere'd have been an end of me at once. I was not unconscious for verylong, for when I sat up, wiped the blood out of my eyes, and staredabout me, sick and dazed, unable for the moment to recollect what hadhappened, I could still hear a tumult raging in the distance.

  The street itself was quiet; the soldiers, the mob were gone; all thehouses were shut and silent, though scared faces were peeping from someof the upper windows. Here and there a wounded man or woman wasstaggering or crawling away; and close beside me a woman was sitting,like a statue of despair, with her back against the wall, and somethinglying prone across her knees--the little mangled body of the boy who hadbeen killed in the first scuffle, that Marie Levinska had provoked.

  I remembered all then, and looked round wildly for Anne. There was nosign either of her or of Natalya.

  I scrambled up, impatiently binding my handkerchief tight round mywounded head, which was bleeding profusely now, and stood over thesilent woman.

  "Where are they? Where is the lady who was with you?" I demandedhoarsely. "Answer me, for God's sake!"

  "They took her away--those devils incarnate--and the other woman got upand ran after," she answered dully. "There was an officer with them; hecried out that they would teach her not to insult the army."

  I felt my blood run cold. Since I returned to this accursed country Ihad seen many--and heard of more--deeds of such fiendish crueltyperpetrated on weak women, on innocent little children, that I knew whatthe Cossacks were capable of when their blood was up. They were, as thewomen said, devils incarnate at such times.

  My strength came back to me, the strength of madness, and I rushed away,down that stricken street, with but one clear idea in my mind,--to dieavenging Anne, for I knew no power on earth could save her.

  As I ran the tumult waxed louder, coming, as I guessed, from the greatsquare to which the street led at this end.

  Half-way along, a woman, huddled in the roadway, clutched at me, with amoaning cry. I shook off her grasp, glanced at her, and saw she wasNatalya. The faithful soul had not been able to follow her mistress far.

  "Where have they taken her?" I cried.

  She could not speak, but she glared at me, a world of anguish and horrorin her dark eyes, and pointed in the direction I was going, and Ihurried on. I had a "killer" in my hand, the deadly little bludgeon oflead, set on a spiral copper spring, that was the favorite weapon of themob, though I haven't the least notion as to when I picked it up.

  Now I was on the fringe of the crowd that overflowed from the square,and was pushing my way forward towards the centre, a furious vortex ofnoise and confusion. A desperate fight was in progress, surging roundsomething, some one.

  "It is Anna Petrovna!" a woman screamed above the din. "They tore herclothes from her; they are beating her to death with their _nagaikas_!Mother of Mercy! That such things should be!"

  "'_A la vie et a la mort._' Save her; avenge her," some one shouted, Imyself I think, and the cry was taken up and echoed hoarsely on allsides. So, there must be many of the League in the turmoil.

  Now I was in the thick of it, a swaying, struggling mass of men andhorses; many of the horses plunging riderless as the wild horsemen weredragged from their saddles, and disappeared in that stormy sea ofoutraged humanity. The Cossacks were getting the worst of it, for once,not a doubt of that.

  "Back," roared a mighty voice. "We have her; back I say; make waythere,--let us pass!"

  Mishka's voice, and Mishka's burly figure, mounted on a horse, pressedforward slowly, forcing a way through for another horseman who followedclose in his wake.

  "Make way, comrades," shouted Mishka again, and at the cry, at the sightof the grim silent horseman in the rear, a curious lull fell on allwithin sight and hearing; though elsewhere the strife raged furiously asever.

  Loris sat erect in his saddle, as if on parade; bareheaded, his face setlike a white mask, his brilliant blue eyes fixed, expressionless, no,that's not the right word, but I can't say what the expression was;neither horror nor anguish, nor despair, just a quiet steady gaze,without a trace of human emotion in it. Save that he was breathingheavily and slowly, he might have been a statue,--or a corpse. I am surehe was quite unconscious of his surroundings. The reins lay loose on hishorse's neck, and, though its sides heaved, and its coat was a plasterof sweat and foam and blood, the good beast took its own way quietlythrough that densely packed, suddenly silent mob, as if it, like itsmaster, was oblivious of the mad world around them.

  But it was on the burden borne by the silent horseman that every eye wasfixed; a burden partly hidden by a soldier's great coat. I knew she wasdead,--we all knew it,--though the head with its bright dishevelledhair, as it lay heavily on her lover's shoulder, seemed to have asemblance of life, as it moved slightly with the rise and fall of hisbreast. Her face was hidden, but from under the coat one long arm swayedlimp, its whiteness hideously marred with jagged purple weals, fromwhich the blood still oozed, trickling down and dripping from the tipsof the fingers,--those beautiful ringless fingers that I knew and lovedso well.

  I had no further thought of fighting now; my brain and heart were numb,so I just dropped my weapon and fell in behind the horse, followingclose on its heels. Others did the same, the whole section of the crowdon this side the square moving after us, in what, compared with thechaos of a few minutes back, was an orderly retreat.

  Well it was for some of them that they did so, for we had scarcelygained the street when the rattling boom of artillery sounded in therear; followed by a renewed babel of shrieks and yells. The guns hadbeen brought up and the work of summarily clearing the square hadbegun. But before the panic-stricken mob overtook us, flyinghelter-skelter before the new terror, Loris had urged his horse forward,or it quickened its pace of its own accord as the throng in frontthinned and gave way more easily. I think I tried instinctively to keepup with it, but the crowd closed round me, the rush of fugitives fromthe rear overtook, overwhelmed us, and I was carried along with it.

  I suppose I must have kept my footing, otherwise I should have beentrampled down, as were so many others on that awful day. But where Iwent and what I did during the hours that followed I don't know, and Inever shall. I lost all sense of time and place; though I've a hazyrecollection of stumbling on alone, through dark streets, sodden withthe rain that was now falling in a persistent, icy drizzle. Some of thestreets were silent and deserted; in others I paused idly to watchparties of sullen soldiers and police, grumbling and swearing over theirgruesome task of collecting the dead bodies, and tossing them intocarts; and again I stared into brilliantly lighted cafes and listened tothe boisterous merriment of those within. Were they celebrating animaginary victory, or acting on the principle, "Let us eat, drink, andbe merry, for to-morrow--perchance to-night--we die?"

  Death brooded over the city that night; I felt His presenceeverywhere,--in the streets that were silent as the grave itself; inthose whence the dead were being removed; most of all where men andwomen laughed and sang and defied Him! But I felt the dread Presence ina curious detached fashion. Death was my enemy indeed, an enemy whowould not strike, who passed me by as one beneath contempt! And always,clear before my eyes, in my ears, above all other sights and sounds, Isaw Anne's face, heard her voice. Now she stood before me as I had firstknown her,--a radiant, queenly vision; a girl whose laughing eyes showednever a care in the world, or a thought beyond the passing moment. Herhands were full of flowers, red flowers, red as blood. Why, it wasblood; it was staining her fingers, dripping from them! Yet the mandidn't see it; that man with the dark eager face, who was standingbeside her, who took a spray of the flowers from her hand. What a foolthis Cassavetti is not to know that she is "_La Mort!_"

  Now she is changed; she wears a black gown, and the red flowers havevanished; but she is lovelier, more queenly than ever, as she looks atme with wide, pathetic eyes, and says, "I have
deceived you!"

  Again she stands, with hands outstretched, and cries, "The end is insight; thank God for all His mercies;" and her face is as that of anangel in Heaven.

  But always there is a barrier between her and me; a barrier impalpableyet unpassable. I try to surmount it, but I am beaten back every time.Now it is Cassavetti who confronts me; again, and yet again, it isLoris, with his stern white face, his inscrutable blue eyes. He is onhorseback; he rides straight at me, and he bears something in his arms.

  * * * * *

  I struggled up and looked around me. I knew the place well enough, thelong narrow room that had once been the _salle a manger_ in theVassilitzi's Warsaw house, but that, ever since I had known it, had beenthe principal ward in the amateur hospital instituted by Anne. A squalidward enough, for the beds were made up on the floor, anyhow, and everybit of space was filled, leaving just a narrow track for the attendantsto pass up and down.

  Along that track came a big figure that I recognized at once as Mishka,walking with clumsy caution.

  "You are better? That is well," he said in a gruff undertone.

  "How did I get here?" I demanded.

  "Yossof brought you; he found you walking about the streets, raving mad.It is a marvel that you were not shot down."

  Then I remembered something at least of what had passed.

  "How long since?" I stammered, putting my hand up to my bandaged head.

  "Two days."

  "And--?"

  "I will answer no questions," he growled in his surliest fashion. "Iwill send you food and you are to sleep again. He will see you later."

  "He--Loris; he is safe, then?"

  He nodded, but would say no more, and presently I drifted back intosleep or unconsciousness.