IX. ANNOUCHKA
"And now it's between us two, Natacha," murmured Rouletabille as soonas he was outside. He hailed the first carriage that passed and gave theaddress of the datcha des Iles. When he got in he held his head betweenhis hands; his face burned, his jaws were set. But by a prodigiouseffort of his will he resumed almost instantly his calm, hisself-control. As he went back across the Neva, across the bridge wherehe had felt so elated a little while before, and saw the isles again hesighed heavily. "I thought I had got it all over with, so far as I wasconcerned, and now I don't know where it will stop." His eyes grew darkfor a moment with somber thoughts and the vision of the Lady in Blackrose before him; then he shook his head, filled his pipe, lighted it,dried a tear that had been caused doubtless by a little smoke in hiseye, and stopped sentimentalizing. A quarter of an hour later he gavea true Russian nobleman's fist-blow in the back to the coachman as anintimation that they had reached the Trebassof villa. A charming picturewas before him. They were all lunching gayly in the garden, around thetable in the summer-house. He was astonished, however, at not seeingNatacha with them. Boris Mourazoff and Michael Korsakoff were there.Rouletabille did not wish to be seen. He made a sign to Ermolai, who waspassing through the garden and who hurried to meet him at the gate.
"The Barinia," said the reporter, in a low voice and with his finger tohis lips to warn the faithful attendant to caution.
In two minutes Matrena Petrovna joined Rouletabille in the lodge.
"Well, where is Natacha?" he demanded hurriedly as she kissed his handsquite as though she had made an idol of him.
"She has gone away. Yes, out. Oh, I did not keep her. I did not tryto hold her back. Her expression frightened me, you can understand, mylittle angel. My, you are impatient! What is it about? How do we stand?What have you decided? I am your slave. Command me. Command me. The keysof the villa?"
"Yes, give me a key to the veranda; you must have several. I must beable to get into the house to-night if it becomes necessary."
She drew a key from her gown, gave it to the young man and said a fewwords in Russian to Ermolai, to enforce upon him that he must obey thelittle domovoi-doukh in anything, day or night.
"Now tell me where Natacha has gone."
"Boris's parents came to see us a little while ago, to inquire afterthe general. They have taken Natacha away with them, as they often havedone. Natacha went with them readily enough. Little domovoi, listen tome, listen to Matrena Petrovna--Anyone would have said she was expectingit!"
"Then she has gone to lunch at their house?"
"Doubtless, unless they have gone to a cafe. I don't know. Boris'sfather likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine.Calm yourself, little domovoi. What ails you? Bad news, eh? Any badnews?"
"No, no; everything is all right. Quick, the address of Boris's family."
"The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la Poste."
"Good. Thank you. Adieu."
He started for the Place St. Isaac, and picked up an interpreter at theGrand Morskaia Hotel on the way. It might be useful to have him. At thePlace St. Isaac he learned the Morazoffs and Natacha Trebassof hadgone by train for luncheon at Bergalowe, one of the nearby stations inFinland.
"That is all," said he, and added apart to himself, "And perhaps that isnot true."
He paid the coachman and the interpreter, and lunched at the Brasseriede Vienne nearby. He left there a half-hour later, much calmer. Hetook his way to the Grand Morskaia Hotel, went inside and asked theschwitzar:
"Can you give me the address of Mademoiselle Annouchka?"
"The singer of the Krestowsky?"
"That is who I mean."
"She had luncheon here. She has just gone away with the prince."
Without any curiosity as to which prince, Rouletabille cursed his luckand again asked for her address.
"Why, she lives in an apartment just across the way."
Rouletabille, feeling better, crossed the street, followed by theinterpreter that he had engaged. Across the way he learned on thelanding of the first floor that Mademoiselle Annouchka was away for theday. He descended, still followed by his interpreter, and recallinghow someone had told him that in Russia it was always profitable to begenerous, he gave five roubles to the interpreter and asked him for someinformation about Mademoiselle Annouchka's life in St. Petersburg. Theinterpreter whispered:
"She arrived a week ago, but has not spent a single night in herapartment over there."
He pointed to the house they had just left, and added:
"Merely her address for the police."
"Yes, yes," said Rouletabille, "I understand. She sings this evening,doesn't she?"
"Monsieur, it will be a wonderful debut."
"Yes, yes, I know. Thanks."
All these frustrations in the things he had undertaken that day insteadof disheartening him plunged him deep into hard thinking. He returned,his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, to the Place St. Isaac,walked around the church, keeping an eye on the house at the corner,investigated the monument, went inside, examined all its details, cameout marveling, and finally went once again to the residence of theMourazoffs, was told that they had not yet returned from the Finlandtown, then went and shut himself in his room at the hotel, where hesmoked a dozen pipes of tobacco. He emerged from his cloud of smoke atdinner-time.
At ten that evening he stepped out of his carriage before theKrestowsky. The establishment of Krestowsky, which looms among the Islesmuch as the Aquarium does, is neither a theater, nor a music-hall, nor acafe-concert, nor a restaurant, nor a public garden; it is all of theseand some other things besides. Summer theater, winter theater, open-airtheater, hall for spectacles, scenic mountain, exercise-ground,diversions of all sorts, garden promenades, cafes, restaurants, privatedining-rooms, everything is combined here that can amuse, charm, leadto the wildest orgies, or provide those who never think of sleep tilltoward three or four o'clock of a morning the means to await the dawnwith patience. The most celebrated companies of the old and the newworld play there amid an enthusiasm that is steadily maintained by theforesight of the managers: Russian and foreign dancers, and above allthe French chanteuses, the little dolls of the cafes-concerts, so longas they are young, bright, and elegantly dressed, may meet their fortunethere. If there is no such luck, they are sure at least to find everyevening some old beau, and often some officer, who willingly paystwenty-five roubles for the sole pleasure of having a demoiselle bornon the banks of the Seine for his companion at the supper-table. Aftertheir turn at the singing, these women display their graces and theireager smiles in the promenades of the garden or among the tables wherethe champagne-drinkers sit. The head-liners, naturally, are not drivento this wearying perambulation, but can go away to their rest if theyare so inclined. However, the management is appreciative if they acceptthe invitation of some dignitary of the army, of administration, or offinance, who seeks the honor of hearing from the chanteuse, in a privateroom and with a company of friends not disposed to melancholy, theBohemian songs of the Vieux Derevnia. They sing, they loll, they talkof Paris, and above all they drink. If sometimes the little fete endsrather roughly, it is the friendly and affectionate champagne that is toblame, but usually the orgies remain quite innocent, of a character thatcertainly might trouble the temperance societies but need not make M. leSenateur Berenger feel involved.
A war whose powder fumes reeked still, a revolution whose last defeatedgrowls had not died away at the period of these events, had not at alldiminished the nightly gayeties of Kretowsky. Many of the young men whodisplayed their uniforms that evening and called their "Nichevo" alongthe brilliantly lighted paths of the public gardens, or filled theopen-air tables, or drank vodka at the buffets, or admired the figuresof the wandering soubrettes, had come here on the eve of their departurefor the war and had returned with the same child-like, enchanted smile,the same ideal of futile joy, and kissed their passing comrades as gaylyas ever. Some of them ha
d a sleeve lying limp now, or walked with acrutch, or even on a wooden leg, but it was, all the same, "Nichevo!"
The crowd this evening was denser than ordinarily, because there was thechance to hear Annouchka again for the first time since the somber daysof Moscow. The students were ready to give her an ovation, and no oneopposed it, because, after all, if she sang now it was because thepolice were willing at last. If the Tsar's government had granted herher life, it was not in order to compel her to die of hunger. Eachearned a livelihood as was possible. Annouchka only knew how to sing anddance, and so she must sing and dance!
When Rouletabille entered the Krestowsky Gardens, Annouchka hadcommenced her number, which ended with a tremendous "Roussalka."Surrounded by a chorus of male and female dancers in the nationaldress and with red boots, striking tambourines with their fingers, thensuddenly taking a rigid pose to let the young woman's voice, whichwas of rather ordinary register, come out, Annouchka had centered theattention of the immense audience upon herself. All the other partsof the establishment were deserted, the tables had been removed, and apanting crowd pressed about the open-air theater. Rouletabille stood upon his chair at the moment tumultuous "Bravos" sounded from a group ofstudents. Annouchka bowed toward them, seeming to ignore the rest ofthe audience, which had not dared declare itself yet. She sang the oldpeasant songs arranged to present-day taste, and interspersed them withdances. They had an enormous success, because she gave her whole soulto them and sang with her voice sometimes caressing, sometimes menacing,and sometimes magnificently desperate, giving much significance to wordswhich on paper had not aroused the suspicions of the censor. Thetaste of the day was obviously still a taste for the revolution, whichretained its influence on the banks of the Neva. What she was doing wascertainly very bold, and apparently she realized how audacious she was,because, with great adroitness, she would bring out immediately aftersome dangerous phrase a patriotic couplet which everybody was anxious toapplaud. She succeeded by such means in appealing to all the divergentgroups of her audience and secured a complete triumph for herself. Thestudents, the revolutionaries, the radicals and the cadets acclaimed thesinger, glorifying not only her art but also and beyond everything elsethe sister of the engineer Volkousky, who had been doomed to perish withher brother by the bullets of the Semenovsky regiment. The friends ofthe Court on their side could not forget that it was she who, in frontof the Kremlin, had struck aside the arm of Constantin Kochkarof,ordered by the Central Revolutionary Committee to assassinate the GrandDuke Peter Alexandrovitch as he drove up to the governor's house inhis sleigh. The bomb burst ten feet away, killing Constantin Kochkarofhimself. It may be that before death came he had time to hearAnnouchka cry to him, "Wretch! You were told to kill the prince, not toassassinate his children." As it happened, Peter Alexandrovitch heldon his knees the two little princesses, seven and eight years old. TheCourt had wished to recompense her for that heroic act. Annouchka hadspit at the envoy of the Chief of Police who called to speak to herof money. At the Hermitage in Moscow, where she sang then, some ofher admirers had warned her of possible reprisals on the part of therevolutionaries. But the revolutionaries gave her assurance at once thatshe had nothing to fear. They approved her act and let her know thatthey now counted on her to kill the Grand Duke some time when he wasalone; which had made Annouchka laugh. She was an enfant terrible,whose friends no one knew, who passed for very wise, and whose lines ofintrigue were inscrutable. She enjoyed making her hosts in the privatesupper-rooms quake over their meal. One day she had said bluntly to oneof the most powerful tchinovnicks of Moscow: "You, my old friend, youare president of the Black Hundred. Your fate is sealed. Yesterday youwere condemned to death by the delegates of the Central Committee atPresnia. Say your prayers." The man reached for champagne. He neverfinished his glass. The dvornicks carried him out stricken withapoplexy. Since the time she saved the little grand-duchesses the policehad orders to allow her to act and talk as she pleased. She had beenmixed up in the deepest plots against the government. Those who lentthe slightest countenance to such plottings and were not of the policesimply disappeared. Their friends dared not even ask for news of them.The only thing not in doubt about them was that they were at hard laborsomewhere in the mines of the Ural Mountains. At the moment ofthe revolution Annouchka had a brother who was an engineer on theKasan-Moscow line. This Volkousky was one of the leaders on the StrikeCommittee. The authorities had an eye on him. The revolution started.He, with the help of his sister, accomplished one of those formidableacts which will carry their memory as heroes to the farthest posterity.Their work accomplished, they were taken by Trebassof's soldiers. Bothwere condemned to death. Volkousky was executed first, and the sisterwas taking her turn when an officer of the government arrived onhorseback to stop the firing. The Tsar, informed of her intended fate,had sent a pardon by telegraph. After that she disappeared. She wassupposed to have gone on some tour across Europe, as was her habit,for she spoke all the languages, like a true Bohemian. Now she hadreappeared in all her joyous glory at Krestowsky. It was certain,however, that she had not forgotten her brother. Gossips said that ifthe government and the police showed themselves so long-enduring theyfound it to their interest to do so. The open, apparent life Annouchkaled was less troublesome to them than her hidden activities would be.The lesser police who surrounded the Chief of the St. Petersburg SecretService, the famous Gounsovski, had meaning smiles when the matterwas discussed. Among them Annouchka had the ignoble nickname,"Stool-pigeon."
Rouletabille must have been well aware of all these particularsconcerning Annouchka, for he betrayed no astonishment at the greatinterest and the strong emotion she aroused. From the corner where hewas he could see only a bit of the stage, and he was standing on tiptoesto see the singer when he felt his coat pulled. He turned. It wasthe jolly advocate, well known for his gastronomic feats, AthanaseGeorgevitch, along with the jolly Imperial councilor, Ivan Petrovitch,who motioned him to climb down.
"Come with us; we have a box."
Rouletabille did not need urging, and he was soon installed in the frontof a box where he could see the stage and the public both. Just then thecurtain fell on the first part of Annouchka's performance. The friendswere soon rejoined by Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the great timber-merchant,who came from behind the scenes.
"I have been to see the beautiful Onoto," announced the Lithuanian witha great satisfied laugh. "Tell me the news. All the girls are sulkingover Annouchka's success."
"Who dragged you into the Onoto's dressing-room then? demanded Athanase.
"Oh, Gounsovski himself, my dear. He is very amateurish, you know."
"What! do you knock around with Gounsovski?"
"On my word, I tell you, dear friends, he isn't a bad acquaintance. Hedid me a little service at Bakou last year. A good acquaintance in thesetimes of public trouble."
"You are in the oil business now, are you?"
"Oh, yes, a little of everything for a livelihood. I have a little welldown Bakou way, nothing big; and a little house, a very small one for mysmall business."
"What a monopolist Thaddeus is," declared Athanase Georgevitch, hittinghim a formidable slap on the thigh with his enormous hand. "Gounsovskihas come himself to keep an eye on Annouchka's debut, eh? Only he goesinto Onoto's dressing-room, the rogue."
"Oh, he doesn't trouble himself. Do you know who he is to have supperwith? With Annouchka, my dears, and we are invited."
"How's that?" inquired the jovial councilor.
"It seems Gounsovski influenced the minister to permit Annouchka'sperformance by declaring he would be responsible for it all. He requiredfrom Annouchka solely that she have supper with him on the evening ofher debut."
"And Annouchka consented?"
"That was the condition, it seems. For that matter, they say thatAnnouchka and Gounsovski don't get along so badly together. Gounsovskihas done Annouchka many a good turn. They say he is in love with her."
"He has the air of an umbrella merchant," snorted Athan
ase Georgevitch.
"Have you seen him at close range?" inquired Ivan.
"I have dined at his house, though it is nothing to boast of, on myword."
"That is what he said," replied Thaddeus. "When he knew we were heretogether, he said to me: 'Bring him, he is a charming fellow who pliesa great fork; and bring that dear man Ivan Petrovitch, and all yourfriends.'"
"Oh, I only dined at his house," grumbled Athanase, "because there was afavor he was going to do me."
"He does services for everybody, that man," observed Ivan Petrovitch.
"Of course, of course; he ought to," retorted Athanase. "What is a chiefof Secret Service for if not to do things for everybody? For everybody,my dear friends, and a little for himself besides. A chief of SecretService has to be in with everybody, with everybody and his father,as La Fontaine says (if you know that author), if he wants to hold hisplace. You know what I mean."
Athanase laughed loudly, glad of the chance to show how French he couldbe in his allusions, and looked at Rouletabille to see if he had beenable to catch the tone of the conversation; but Rouletabille was toomuch occupied in watching a profile wrapped in a mantilla of black lace,in the Spanish fashion, to repay Athanase's performance with a knowingsmile.
"You certainly have naive notions. You think a chief of Secret Policeshould be an ogre," replied the advocate as he nodded here and there tohis friends.
"Why, certainly not. He needs to be a sheep in a place like that, athorough sheep. Gounsovski is soft as a sheep. The time I dined with himhe had mutton streaked with fat. He is just like that. I am sure he ismainly layers of fat. When you shake hands you feel as though youhad grabbed a piece of fat. My word! And when he eats he wags his jawfattishly. His head is like that, too; bald, you know, with a craniumlike fresh lard. He speaks softly and looks at you like a kid looking toits mother for a juicy meal."
"But--why--it is Natacha!" murmured the lips of the young man.
"Certainly it is Natacha, Natacha herself," exclaimed Ivan Petrovitch,who had used his glasses the better to see whom the young Frenchjournalist was looking at. "Ah, the dear child! she has wanted to seeAnnouchka for a long time."
"What, Natacha! So it is. So it is. Natacha! Natacha!" said the others."And with Boris Mourazoff's parents."
"But Boris is not there," sniggered Thaddeus Tehitchnikoff.
"Oh, he can't be far away. If he was there we would see MichaelKorsakoff too. They keep close on each other's heels."
"How has she happened to leave the general? She said she couldn't bearto be away from him."
"Except to see Annouchka," replied Ivan. "She wanted to see her, andtalked so about it when I was there that even Feodor Feodorovitch wasrather scandalized at her and Matrena Petrovna reproved her downrightrudely. But what a girl wishes the gods bring about. That's the way."
"That's so, I know," put in Athanase. "Ivan Petrovitch is right. Natachahasn't been able to hold herself in since she read that Annouchka wasgoing to make her debut at Krestowsky. She said she wasn't going to diewithout having seen the great artist."
"Her father had almost drawn her away from that crowd," affirmed Ivan,"and that was as it should be. She must have fixed up this affair withBoris and his parents."
"Yes, Feodor certainly isn't aware that his daughter's idea was toapplaud the heroine of Kasan station. She is certainly made of sternstuff, my word," said Athanase.
"Natacha, you must remember, is a student," said Thaddeus, shaking hishead; "a true student. They have misfortunes like that now in so manyfamilies. I recall, apropos of what Ivan said just now, how today sheasked Michael Korsakoff, before me, to let her know where Annouchkawould sing. More yet, she said she wished to speak to that artist if itwere possible. Michael frowned on that idea, even before me. But Michaelcouldn't refuse her, any more than the others. He can reach Annouchkaeasier than anyone else. You remember it was he who rode hard andarrived in time with the pardon for that beautiful witch; she ought notto forget him if she cared for her life."
"Anyone who knows Michael Nikolaievitch knows that he did his dutypromptly," announced Athanase Georgevitch crisply. "But he would nothave gone a step further to save Annouchka. Even now he won't compromisehis career by being seen at the home of a woman who is never fromunder the eyes of Gounsovski's agents and who hasn't been nicknamed'Stool-pigeon' for nothing."
"Then why do we go to supper tonight with Annouchka?" asked Ivan.
"That's not the same thing. We are invited by Gounsovski himself. Don'tforget that, if stories concerning it drift about some day, my friends,"said Thaddeus.
"For that matter, Thaddeus, I accept the invitation of the honorablechief of our admirable Secret Service because I don't wish to slighthim. I have dined at his house already. By sitting opposite him at apublic table here I feel that I return that politeness. What do you sayto that?"
"Since you have dined with him, tell us what kind of a man he is asidefrom his fattish qualities," said the curious councilor. "So many thingsare said about him. He certainly seems to be a man it is better to standin with than to fall out with, so I accept his invitation. How could youmanage to refuse it, anyway?"
"When he first offered me hospitality," explained the advocate, "Ididn't even know him. I never had been near him. One day a police agentcame and invited me to dinner by command--or, at least, I understood itwasn't wise to refuse the invitation, as you said, Ivan Petrovitch. WhenI went to his house I thought I was entering a fortress, and inside Ithought it must be an umbrella shop. There were umbrellas everywhere,and goloshes. True, it was a day of pouring rain. I was struck by therebeing no guard with a big revolver in the antechamber. He had a little,timid schwitzar there, who took my umbrella, murmuring 'barine' andbowing over and over again. He conducted me through very ordinary roomsquite unguarded to an average sitting-room of a common kind. We dinedwith Madame Gounsovski, who appeared fattish like her husband, and threeor four men whom I had never seen anywhere. One servant waited on us. Myword!
"At dessert Gounsovski took me aside and told me I was unwise to 'arguethat way.' I asked him what he meant by that. He took my hands betweenhis fat hands and repeated, 'No, no, it is not wise to argue like that.'I couldn't draw anything else out of him. For that matter, I understoodhim, and, you know, since that day I have cut out certain side passagesunnecessary in my general law pleadings that had been giving me areputation for rather too free opinions in the papers. None of thatat my age! Ah, the great Gounsovski! Over our coffee I asked him if hedidn't find the country in pretty strenuous times. He replied that helooked forward with impatience to the month of May, when he could go fora rest to a little property with a small garden that he had bought atAsnieres, near Paris. When he spoke of their house in the country MadameGounsovski heaved a sigh of longing for those simple country joys. Themonth of May brought tears to her eyes. Husband and wife looked at oneanother with real tenderness. They had not the air of thinking for onesecond: to-morrow or the day after, before our country happiness comes,we may find ourselves stripped of everything. No! They were sure oftheir happy vacation and nothing seemed able to disquiet them undertheir fat. Gounsovski has done everybody so many services that no onereally wishes him ill, poor man. Besides, have you noticed, my dear oldfriends, that no one ever tries to work harm to chiefs of SecretPolice? One goes after heads of police, prefects of police, ministers,grand-dukes, and even higher, but the chiefs of Secret Police are never,never attacked. They can promenade tranquilly in the streets or in thegardens of Krestowsky or breathe the pure air of the Finland country oreven the country around Paris. They have done so many little favors forthis one and that, here and there, that no one wishes to do them theleast injury. Each person always thinks, too, that others have been lesswell served than he. That is the secret of the thing, my friends, thatis the secret. What do you say?"
The others said: "Ah, ah, the good Gounsovski. He knows. He knows.Certainly, accept his supper. With Annouchka it will be fun."
"Messieurs," asked Rouletabill
e, who continued to make discoveries inthe audience, "do you know that officer who is seated at the end of arow down there in the orchestra seats? See, he is getting up."
"He? Why, that is Prince Galitch, who was one of the richest lords ofthe North Country. Now he is practically ruined."
"Thanks, gentlemen; certainly it is he. I know him," said Rouletabille,seating himself and mastering his emotion.
"They say he is a great admirer of Annouchka," hazarded Thaddeus. Thenhe walked away from the box.
"The prince has been ruined by women," said Athanase Georgevitch, whopretended to know the entire chronicle of gallantries in the empire.
"He also has been on good terms with Gounsovski," continued Thaddeus.
"He passes at court, though, for an unreliable. He once made a longvisit to Tolstoi."
"Bah! Gounsovski must have rendered some signal service to thatimprudent prince," concluded Athanase. "But for yourself, Thaddeus, youhaven't said what you did with Gounsovski at Bakou."
(Rouletabille did not lose a word of what was being said around him,although he never lost sight of the profile hidden in the black mantlenor of Prince Galitch, his personal enemy,* who reappeared, it seemedto him, at a very critical moment.)
* as told in "The Lady In Black."
"I was returning from Balakani in a drojki," said ThaddeusTchitchnikoff, "and I was drawing near Bakou after having seen thedebris of my oil shafts that had been burned by the Tartars, when I metGounsovski in the road, who, with two of his friends, found themselvesbadly off with one of the wheels of their carriage broken. I stopped.He explained to me that he had a Tartar coachman, and that this coachmanhaving seen an Armenian on the road before him, could find nothingbetter to do than run full tilt into the Armenian's equipage. He hadreached over and taken the reins from him, but a wheel of the carriagewas broken." (Rouletabille quivered, because he caught a glance ofcommunication between Prince Galitch and Natacha, who was leaning overthe edge of her box.) "So I offered to take Gounsovski and his friendsinto my carriage, and we rode all together to Bakou after Gounsovski,who always wishes to do a service, as Athanase Georgevitch says, hadwarned his Tartar coachman not to finish the Armenian." (Prince Galitch,at the moment the orchestra commenced the introductory music forAnnouchka's new number, took advantage of all eyes being turned towardthe rising curtain to pass near Natacha's seat. This time he did notlook at Natacha, but Rouletabille was sure that his lips had moved as hewent by her.)
Thaddeus continued: "It is necessary to explain that at Bakou my littlehouse is one of the first before you reach the quay. I had some Armenianemployees there. When arrived, what do you suppose I saw? A file ofsoldiers with cannon, yes, with a cannon, on my word, turned against myhouse and an officer saying quietly, 'there it is. Fire!'" (Rouletabillemade yet another discovery--two, three discoveries. Near by, standingback of Natacha's seat, was a figure not unknown to the young reporter,and there, in one of the orchestra chairs, were two other men whosefaces he had seen that same morning in Koupriane's barracks. Here waswhere a memory for faces stood him in good stead. He saw that he was notthe only person keeping close watch on Natacha.) "When I heard what theofficer said," Thaddeus went on, "I nearly dropped out of the drojki.I hurried to the police commissioner. He explained the affair promptly,and I was quick to understand. During my absence one of my Armenianemployees had fired at a Tartar who was passing. For that matter, he hadkilled him. The governor was informed and had ordered the house to bebombarded, for an example, as had been done with several others. I foundGounsovski and told him the trouble in two words. He said it wasn'tnecessary for him to interfere in the affair, that I had only to talkto the officer. 'Give him a good present, a hundred roubles, and he willleave your house. I went back to the officer and took him aside; he saidhe wanted to do anything that he could for me, but that the order waspositive to bombard the house. I reported his answer to Gounsovski, whotold me: 'Tell him then to turn the muzzle of the cannon the other wayand bombard the building of the chemist across the way, then he canalways say that he mistook which house was intended.' I did that, and hehad them turn the cannon. They bombarded the chemist's place, and I gotout of the whole thing for the hundred roubles. Gounsovski, the goodfellow, may be a great lump of fat and be like an umbrella merchant, butI have always been grateful to him from the bottom of my heart, you canunderstand, Athanase Georgevitch."
"What reputation has Prince Galitch at the court?" inquired Rouletabilleall at once.
"Oh, oh!" laughed the others. "Since he went so openly to visit Tolstoihe doesn't go to the court any more."
"And--his opinions? What are his opinions?"
"Oh, the opinions of everybody are so mixed nowadays, nobody knows."
Ivan Petrovitch said, "He passes among some people as very advanced andvery much compromised."
"Yet they don't bother him?" inquired Rouletabille.
"Pooh, pooh," replied the gay Councilor of Empire, "it is rather he whotries to mix with them."
Thaddeus stooped down and said, "They say that he can't be reachedbecause of the hold he has over a certain great personage in the court,and it would be a scandal--a great scandal."
"Be quiet, Thaddeus," interrupted Athanase Georgevitch, roughly. "Itis easy to see that you are lately from the provinces to speak sorecklessly, but if you go on this way I shall leave."
"Athanase Georgevitch is right; hang onto your mouth, Thaddeus,"counseled Ivan Petrovitch.
The talkers all grew silent, for the curtain was rising. In the audiencethere were mysterious allusions being made to this second number ofAnnouchka, but no one seemed able to say what it was to be, and it was,as a matter of fact, very simple. After the whirl-wind of dances andchoruses and all the splendor with which she had been accompanied thefirst time, Annouchka appeared as a poor Russian peasant in a scenerepresenting the barren steppes, and very simply she sank to her kneesand recited her evening prayers. Annouchka was singularly beautiful.Her aquiline nose with sensitive nostrils, the clean-cut outline ofher eyebrows, her look that now was almost tender, now menacing, alwaysunusual, her pale rounded cheeks and the entire expression of her faceshowed clearly the strength of new ideas, spontaneity, deep resolutionand, above all, passion. The prayer was passionate. She had an admirablecontralto voice which affected the audience strangely from its veryfirst notes. She asked God for daily bread for everyone in the immenseRussian land, daily bread for the flesh and for the spirit, and shestirred the tears of everyone there, to which-ever party they belonged.And when, as her last note sped across the desolate steppe and she roseand walked toward the miserable hut, frantic bravos from a deliriousaudience told her the prodigious emotions she had aroused. LittleRouletabille, who, not understanding the words, nevertheless caught thespirit of that prayer, wept. Everybody wept. Ivan Petrovitch, AthanaseGeorgevitch, Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff were standing up, stamping theirfeet and clapping their hands like enthusiastic boys. The students, whocould be easily distinguished by the uniform green edging they wore ontheir coats, uttered insensate cries. And suddenly there rose the firststrains of the national hymn. There was hesitation at first, a wavering.But not for long. Those who had been dreading some counter-demonstrationrealized that no objection could possibly be raised to a prayer forthe Tsar. All heads uncovered and the Bodje Taara Krari mounted,unanimously, toward the stars.
Through his tears the young reporter never gave up his close watch onNatacha. She had half risen, and, sinking back, leaned on the edge ofthe box. She called, time and time again, a name that Rouletabillecould not hear in the uproar, but that he felt sure was "Annouchka!Annouchka!" "The reckless girl," murmured Rouletabille, and, profitingby the general excitement, he left the box without being noticed.He made his way through the crowd toward Natacha, whom he had soughtfutilely since morning. The audience, after clamoring in vain for arepetition of the prayer by Annouchka, commenced to disperse, and thereporter was swept along with them for a few moments. When he reachedthe range of boxes he saw that Natacha and the fa
mily she had beenwith were gone. He looked on all sides without seeing the object of hissearch and like a madman commenced to run through the passages, when asudden idea struck his blood cold. He inquired where the exit for theartists was and as soon as it was pointed out, he hurried there. Hewas not mistaken. In the front line of the crowd that waited to seeAnnouchka come out he recognized Natacha, with her head enveloped in theblack mantle so that none should see her face. Besides, this corner ofthe garden was in a half-gloom. The police barred the way; he could notapproach as near Natacha as he wished. He set himself to slip like aserpent through the crowd. He was not separated from Natacha by morethan four or five persons when a great jostling commenced. Annouchkawas coming out. Cries rose: "Annouchka! Annouchka!" Rouletabille threwhimself on his knees and on all-fours succeeded in sticking his headthrough into the way kept by the police for Annouchka's passage.There, wrapped in a great red mantle, his hat on his arm, was a manRouletabille immediately recognized. It was Prince Galitch. They werehurrying to escape the impending pressure of the crowd. But Annouchka asshe passed near Natacha stopped just a second--a movement that did notescape Rouletabille--and, turning toward her said just the one word,"Caracho." Then she passed on. Rouletabille got up and forced his wayback, having once more lost Natacha. He searched for her. He ran to thecarriage-way and arrived just in time to see her seated in a carriagewith the Mourazoff family. The carriage started at once in the directionof the datcha des Iles. The young man remained standing there, thinking.He made a gesture as though he were ready now to let luck take itscourse. "In the end," said he, "it will be better so, perhaps," andthen, to himself, "Now to supper, my boy."
He turned in his tracks and soon was established in the glaring lightof the restaurant. Officers standing, glass in hand, were saluting fromtable to table and waving a thousand compliments with grace that wasalmost feminine.
He heard his name called joyously, and recognized the voice of IvanPetrovitch. The three boon companions were seated over a bottle ofchampagne resting in its ice-bath and were being served with tiny pateswhile they waited for the supper-hour, which was now near.
Rouletabille yielded to their invitation readily enough, and accompaniedthem when the head-waiter informed Thaddeus that the gentlemen weredesired in a private room. They went to the first floor and wereushered into a large apartment whose balcony opened on the hall ofthe winter-theater, empty now. But the apartment was already occupied.Before a table covered with a shining service Gounsovski did the honors.
He received them like a servant, with his head down, an obsequioussmile, and his back bent, bowing several times as each of the guestswere presented to him. Athanase had described him accurately enough, amannikin in fat. Under the vast bent brow one could hardly see his eyes,behind the blue glasses that seemed always ready to fall as he inclinedtoo far his fat head with its timid and yet all-powerful glance. When hespoke in his falsetto voice, his chin dropped in a fold over his collar,and he had a steady gesture with the thumb and index finger of his righthand to retain the glasses from sliding down his short, thick nose.
Behind him there was the fine, haughty silhouette of Prince Galitch. Hehad been invited by Annouchka, for she had consented to risk this supperonly in company with three or four of her friends, officers who couldnot be further compromised by this affair, as they were alreadyunder the eye of the Okrana (Secret Police) despite their high birth.Gounsovski had seen them come with a sinister chuckle and had lavishedupon them his marks of devotion.
He loved Annouchka. It would have sufficed to have surprised just oncethe jealous glance he sent from beneath his great blue glasses when hegazed at the singer to have understood the sentiments that actuated himin the presence of the beautiful daughter of the Black Land.
Annouchka was seated, or, rather, she lounged, Oriental fashion, on thesofa which ran along the wall behind the table. She paid attention tono one. Her attitude was forbidding, even hostile. She indifferentlyallowed her marvelous black hair that fell in two tresses over hershoulder to be caressed by the perfumed hands of the beautiful Onoto,who had heard her this evening for the first time and had thrown herselfwith enthusiasm into her arms after the last number. Onoto was an artisttoo, and the pique she felt at first over Annouchka's success could notlast after the emotion aroused by the evening prayer before the hut."Come to supper," Annouchka had said to her.
"With whom?" inquired the Spanish artist.
"With Gounsovski."
"Never."
"Do come. You will help me pay my debt and perhaps he will be useful toyou as well. He is useful to everybody."
Decidedly Onoto did not understand this country, where the worst enemiessupped together.
Rouletabille had been monopolized at once by Prince Galitch, who tookhim into a corner and said:
"What are you doing here?"
"Do I inconvenience you?" asked the boy.
The other assumed the amused smile of the great lord.
"While there is still time," he said, "believe me, you ought to start,to quit this country. Haven't you had sufficient notice?"
"Yes," replied the reporter. "And you can dispense with any furthernotice from this time on."
He turned his back.
"Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa," commencedthe falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the youngman and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch, who wasalready busy with the hors-d'oeuvres.
"How do you do, monsieur?" said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.
Rouletabille saluted.
"I see that I am in a country of acquaintances," he said, withoutappearing disturbed.
He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.
"Rouletabille!" cried la belle Onoto. "Why, then, he is the littlefellow who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room."
"Himself."
"What are you doing here?"
"He came to save the life of General Trebassof," sniggered Gounsovski."He is certainly a brave little young man."
"The police know everything," said Rouletabille coldly. And he asked forchampagne, which he never drank.
The champagne commenced its work. While Thaddeus and the officerstold each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women,Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabilleand gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.
"You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the moredifficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his enemiesbut still more by the ignorance of Koupriane. Understand me thoroughly:Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly. He is good,brave as a warrior, but I wouldn't give a kopeck for his police. He hasmixed in our affairs lately by creating his own secret police, butI don't wish to meddle with that. It amuses us. It's the new style,anyway; everybody wants his secret police nowadays. And yourself, youngman, what, after all, are you doing here? Reporting? No. Police work?That is our business and your business. I wish you good luck, but Idon't expect it. Remember that if you need any help I will give it youwillingly. I love to be of service. And I don't wish any harm to befallyou."
"You are very kind, monsieur," was all Rouletabille replied, and hecalled again for champagne.
Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concernedherself with her meal and had little answer for him.
"Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?"
"No," said Annouchka indifferently.
"The daughter of General Trebassof."
"Yes, that is true, on my word," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
"Yes, yes, Natacha was there," joined in the other friends from thedatcha des Iles.
"For me, I saw her weep," said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchkafixedly.
But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:
"I do not know her."
"She is unlucky in having a father..." Prince Galitch commenced.
"Prince, no politics
, or let me take my leave," clucked Gounsovski."Your health, dear Annouchka."
"Your health, Gounsovski. But you have no worry about that."
"Why?" demanded Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff in equivocal fashion.
"Because he is too useful to the government," cried Ivan Petrovitch.
"No," replied Annouchka; "to the revolutionaries."
All broke out laughing. Gounsovski recovered his slipping glasses byhis usual quick movement and sniggered softly, insinuatingly, like fatboiling in the pot:
"So they say. And it is my strength."
"His system is excellent," said the prince. "As he is in with everybody,everybody is in with the police, without knowing it."
"They say... ah, ah... they say..." (Athanase was choking over a littlepiece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) "they say that he hasdriven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the church ofKasan."
Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans,street-thieves who since the recent political troubles had infested St.Petersburg and whom nobody, could get rid of without paying for it.
Athanase Georgevitch said:
"There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never have.One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station. The girl,frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with two roubles andfifty kopecks in it. The hooligan took it all. 'Goodness,' cried she,'I have nothing now to take my train with.' 'How much is it?' asked thehooligan. 'Sixty kopecks.' 'Sixty kopecks! Why didn't you say so?' Andthe bandit, hanging onto the two roules, returned the fifty-kopeckpiece to the trembling child and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his ownpocket."
"Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow,"said la belle Onoto. "I had just stepped out of the door when I wasstopped by a hooligan. 'Give me twenty kopecks,' said the hooligan. Iwas so frightened that I couldn't get my purse open. 'Quicker,' said he.Finally I gave him twenty kopecks. 'Now,' said he then, 'kiss my hand.'And I had to kiss it, because he held his knife in the other."
"Oh, they are quick with their knives," said Thaddeus. "As I wasleaving Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a hugecarving-knife under my nose. 'You can have it for a rouble and a half,'he said. You can believe that I bought it without any haggling. Andit was a very good bargain. It was worth at least three roubles. Yourhealth, belle Onoto."
"I always take my revolver when I go out," said Athanase. "It is moreprudent. I say this before the police. But I would rather be arrested bythe police than stabbed by the hooligans."
"There's no place any more to buy revolvers," dedared Ivan Petrovitch."All such places are closed."
Gounsovski settled his glasses, rubbed his fat hands and said:
"There are some still at my locksmith's place. The proof is that to-dayin the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith, when into thehouse of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell him a revolver. Itwas a Browning. 'An arm of the greatest reliability,' he said to him,'which never misses fire and which works very easily.' Having pronouncedthese words, the locksmith tried his revolver and lodged a ball in thegrocer's lung. The grocer is dead, but before he died he bought therevolver. 'You are right,' he said to the locksmith; 'it is a terribleweapon.' And then he died."
The others laughed heartily. They thought it very funny. Decidedly thisgreat Gounsovski always had a funny story. Who would not like to behis friend? Annouchka had deigned to smile. Gounsovski, in recognition,extended his hand to her like a mendicant. The young woman touched itwith the end of her fingers, as if she were placing a twenty-kopeckpiece in the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from it with disgust. Thenthe doors opened for the Bohemians. Their swarthy troupe soon filled theroom. Every evening men and women in their native costumes came from oldDerevnia, where they lived all together in a sort of ancient patriarchalcommunity, with customs that had not changed for centuries; theyscattered about in the places of pleasure, in the fashionablerestaurants, where they gathered large sums, for it was a fashionableluxury to have them sing at the end of suppers, and everyone showeredmoney on them in order not to be behind the others. They accompanied onguzlas, on castanets, on tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful andlanguorous, or excitable and breathless as the flight of the earliestnomads in the beginnings of the world.
When they had entered, those present made place for them, andRouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue andof a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn't in the habitof drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion to get acorner of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who occupied the placeat Annouchka's right.
"Look, Rouletabaille is asleep," remarked la belle Onoto.
"Poor boy!" said Annouchka.
And, turning toward Gounsovski:
"Aren't you soon going to get him out of our way? I heard some of ourbrethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain to thosewho care about his health."
"Oh, that," said Gounsovski, shaking his head, "is an affair I havenothing to do with. Apply to Koupriane. Your health, belle Annouchka."
But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and thesingers took everybody's attention, everybody excepting Prince Galitchand Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another, exchanged somewords on the edge of all this musical uproar. As for Rouletabille, hecertainly must have been sleeping soundly not to have been waked byall that noise, melodious as it was. It is true that hehad--apparently--drunk a good deal and, as everyone knows, in Russiadrink lays out those who can't stand it. When the Bohemians had sungthree times Gounsovski made a sign that they might go to charm otherears, and slipped into the hands of the chief of the band a twenty-fiverouble note. But Onoto wished to give her mite, and a regular collectioncommenced. Each one threw roubles into the plate held out by a littleswarthy Bohemian girl with crow-black hair, carelessly combed, fallingover her forehead, her eyes and her face, in so droll a fashion that onewould have said the little thing was a weeping-willow soaked in ink. Theplate reached Prince Galitch, who futilely searched his pockets.
"Bah!" said he, with a lordly air, "I have no money. But here is mypocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me, Katharina."
Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince, butAnnouchka said:
"The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficientlyrepay the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty hutwhen I was in hiding, while your famous department was deciding what todo about me, my dear Gounsovski."
"Eh," replied Gounsovski, "I let you know that all you had to do was totake a fine apartment in the city."
Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from yellowturned green.
"But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?" asked Onoto as shecaressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.
"You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned. I had beenable to leave Moscow, and I hadn't any desire to be re-taken here andsent to taste the joys of Siberia."
"But why were you condemned to death?"
"Why, she doesn't know anything!" exclaimed the others.
"Good Lord, I'm just back from London and Paris--how should I knowanything! But to have been condemned to death! That must have beenamusing."
"Very amusing," said Annouchka icily. "And if you have a brother whomyou love, Onoto, think how much more amusing it must be to have him shotbefore you."
"Oh, my love, forgive me!"
"So you may know and not give any pain to your Annouchka in the future,I will tell you, madame, what happened to our dear friend," said PrinceGalitch.
"We would do better to drive away such terrible memories," venturedGounsovski, lifting his eyelashes behind his glasses, but he bent hishead as Annouchka sent him a blazing glance.
"Speak, Galitch."
The Prince did as she said.
"Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line, whomthe St
rike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the only meansof escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops when Trebassof'ssoldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had become masters of thecity. The last resistance took place at the station. It was necessaryto get started. All the ways were guarded by the military. There weresoldiers everywhere! Vlassof said to his comrades, 'I will save you;'and his comrades saw him mount the engine with a woman. That womanwas--well, there she sits. Vlassof's fireman had been killed the eveningbefore, on a barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place. They busiedthemselves and the train started like a shot. On that curved line,discovered at once, easy to attack, under a shower of bullets, Vlassofdeveloped a speed of ninety versts an hour. He ran the indicator up tothe explosion point. The lady over there continued to pile coal into thefurnace. The danger came to be less from the military and more froman explosion at any moment. In the midst of the balls Vlassof kept hisusual coolness. He sped not only with the firebox open but with theforced draught. It was a miracle that the engine was not smashed againstthe curve of the embankment. But they got past. Not a man was hurt. Onlya woman was wounded. She got a ball in the chest."
"There!" cried Annouchka.
With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving chest,and put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began to melt inheavy drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.
"Fifteen days later," continued the prince, "Vlassof entered an innat Lubetszy. He didn't know it was full of soldiers. His face neveraltered. They searched him. They found a revolver and papers on him.They knew whom they had to do with. He was a good prize. Vlassof wastaken to Moscow and condemned to be shot. His sister, wounded as shewas, learned of his arrest and joined him. 'I do not wish,' she saidto him, 'to leave you to die alone.' She also was condemned. Before theexecution the soldiers offered to bandage their eyes, but both refused,saying they preferred to meet death face to face. The orders were toshoot all the other condemned revolutionaries first, then Vlassof,then his sister. It was in vain that Vlassof asked to die last. Theircomrades in execution sank to their knees, bleeding from their deathwounds. Vlassof embraced his sister and walked to the place of death.There he addressed the soldiers: 'Now you have to carry out your dutyaccording to the oath you have taken. Fulfill it honestly as I havefulfilled mine. Captain, give the order.' The volley sounded. Vlassofremained erect, his arms crossed on his breast, safe and sound. Not aball had touched him. The soldiers did not wish to fire at him. He hadto summon them again to fulfill their duty, and obey their chief. Thenthey fired again, and he fell. He looked at his sister with his eyesfull of horrible suffering. Seeing that he lived, and wishing to appearcharitable, the captain, upon Annouchka's prayers, approached and cutshort his sufferings by firing a revolver into his ear. Now it wasAnnouchka's turn. She knelt by the body of her brother, kissed hisbloody lips, rose and said, 'I am ready.' As the guns were raised, anofficer came running, bearing the pardon of the Tsar. She did notwish it, and she whom they had not bound when she was to die had to berestrained when she learned she was to live."
Prince Galitch, amid the anguished silence of all there, started toadd some words of comment to his sinister recital, but Annouchkainterrupted:
"The story is ended," said she. "Not a word, Prince. If I asked youto tell it in all its horror, if I wished you to bring back to us theatrocious moment of my brother's death, it is so that monsieur" (herfingers pointed to Gounsovski) "shall know well, once for all, that ifI have submitted for some hours now to this promiscuous company that hasbeen imposed upon me, now that I have paid the debt by accepting thisabominable supper, I have nothing more to do with this purveyor ofbagnios and of hangman's ropes who is here."
"She is mad," he muttered. "She is mad. What has come over her? What hashappened? Only to-day she was so, so amiable."
And he stuttered, desolately, with an embarrassed laugh:
"Ah, the women, the women! Now what have I done to her?"
"What have you done to me, wretch? Where are Belachof, Bartowsky andStrassof? And Pierre Slutch? All the comrades who swore with me torevenge my brother? Where are they? On what gallows did you have themhung? What mine have you buried them in? And still you follow yourslavish task. And my friends, my other friends, the poor comrades of myartist life, the inoffensive young men who have not committed anyother crime than to come to see me too often when I was lively, and whobelieved they could talk freely in my dressing-room--where are they?Why have they left me, one by one? Why have they disappeared? It is you,wretch, who watched them, who spied on them, making me, I haven't anydoubt, your horrible accomplice, mixing me up in your beastly work, youdog! You knew what they call me. You have known it for a long time, andyou may well laugh over it. But I, I never knew until this evening; Inever learned until this evening all I owe to you. 'Stool pigeon! Stoolpigeon!' I! Horror! Ah, you dog, you dog! Your mother, when you werebrought into the world, your mother..." Here she hurled at him the mostoffensive insult that a Russian can offer a man of that race.
She trembled and sobbed with rage, spat in fury, and stood up ready togo, wrapped in her mantle like a great red flag. She was the statue ofhate and vengeance. She was horrible and terrible. She was beautiful.At the final supreme insult, Gounsovski started and rose to his feet asthough he had received an actual blow in the face. He did not look atAnnouchka, but fixed his eyes on Prince Galitch. His finger pointed himout:
"There is the man," he hissed, "who has told you all these fine things."
"Yes, it is I," said the Prince, tranquilly.
"Caracho!" barked Gounsovski, instantaneously regaining his coolness.
"Ah, yes, but you'll not touch him," clamored the spirited girl of theBlack Land; "you are not strong enough for that."
"I know that monsieur has many friends at court," agreed the chief ofthe Secret Service with an ominous calm. "I 'don't wish ill to monsieur.You speak, madame, of the way some of your friends have had to besacrificed. I hope that some day you will be better informed, and thatyou will understand I saved all of them I could."
"Let us go," muttered Annouchka. "I shall spit in his face."
"Yes, all I could," replied the other, with his habitual gesture ofhanging on to his glasses. "And I shall continue to do so. I promise younot to say anything more disagreeable to the prince than as regards hislittle friend the Bohemian Katharina, whom he has treated so generouslyjust now, doubtless because Boris Mourazoff pays her too little for theerrands she runs each morning to the villa of Krestowsky Ostrow."
At these words the Prince and Annouchka both changed countenance. Theiranger rose. Annouchka turned her head as though to arrange the foldsof her cloak. Galitch contented himself with shrugging his shouldersimpatiently and murmuring:
"Still some other abomination that you are concocting, monsieur, andthat we don't know how to reply to."
After which he bowed to the supper-party, took Annouchka's arm and hadher move before him. Gounsovski bowed, almost bent in two. When he rosehe saw before him the three astounded and horrified figures of ThaddeusTchitchnikoff, Ivan Petrovitch and Athanase Georgevitch.
"Messieurs," he said to them, in a colorless voice which seemed not tobelong to him, "the time has come for us to part. I need not say that wehave supped as friends and that, if you wish it to be so, we can forgeteverything that has been said here."
The three others, frightened, at once protested their discretion.He added, roughly this time, "Service of the Tsar," and the threestammered, "God save the Tsar!" After which he saw them to the door.When the door had closed after them, he said, "My little Annouchka,you mustn't reckon without me." He hurried toward the sofa, whereRouletabille was lying forgotten, and gave him a tap on the shoulder.
"Come, get up. Don't act as though you were asleep. Not an instantto lose. They are going to carry through the Trebassof affair thisevening."
Rouletabille was already on his legs.
"Oh, monsieur," said he, "I didn't want you to tell me that. T
hanks allthe same, and good evening."
He went out.
Gounsovski rang. A servant appeared.
"Tell them they may now open all the rooms on this corridor; I'll nothold them any longer." Thus had Gounsovski kept himself protected.
Left alone, the head of the Secret Service wiped his brow and drank agreat glass of iced water which he emptied at a draught. Then he said:
"Koupriane will have his work cut out for him this evening; I wish himgood luck. As to them, whatever happens, I wash my hands of them."
And he rubbed his hands.
The Secret of the Night Page 9