12.

Millions of those who fell for their countries in Europe and Asia paved the way for a general depreciation of life; human existence has no more value. For years they were killing people on the battle fields. It is justified.... They were killing lately, in Russia, officers (for the reason that they were such.) It can be understood: the crazy mob is not responsible. But what can one think of murders?

For reasons unknown to the murdered, and perhaps to the murderers.

Here are the results of three years of war, the results of three hundred years of slavery.

Maroossia read the news of Mikhalovsky's accident in the papers in Tula, and came yesterday.

"Nothing could stop me," she said, crying bitterly, and leaning on me so that I would not be too angry. "Dearest, everything is so strange!

Misha's death, and Boris Platonovich's death!... Please, let us go away somewhere, I cannot think of you, here alone...."

I told her that I had made arrangements to resign, and why it could not be done yet. "Then," I said, "we will go to Gurzoof, where our house is rotting without care". I succeeded in calming the poor girl, explaining with all of the eloquence that I had, that Misha's suicide and Mikhalovsky's accident in the lift had nothing in common, and that both deaths were not to be put in the same angle of view.

Later she showed me a postal card from Misha, from Vyborg. He did not sign it, but his characteristic handwriting spoke only too clearly.

"Wanted to send you some fruit," he wrote, "but here there is no fruit, so you'll have to get some yourself from the South."

"Poor Misha, there was something strange about him before he killed himself," she said. "I never asked him for any fruit. He was very nervous, the poor boy, I see it! And to think that almost in his last hour he thought of us!..."

Fruit from the south.... I see Misha's dead hand pointing to us the way out of Petrograd. It is a warning, a cipher warning from the other side of the grave; one more inducement to leave this filthy place.

13.

I again hear that something is growing amongst the bolsheviki. There are indications that if everything passes well for them--Kerensky will join the movement, passing from the left social revolutionary party to the commune. Both parties deal with internationalism, and finally the only difference is that the bolsheviki act more energetically.

The country will then become an ideal state: people would not know any laws, would not pay taxes, would not marry, or sell or buy.... Fine!

About the last, however, I have my doubts. There will be always somebody to be bought in Petrograd. It is in the climate, I guess.

The Allies! Our Allies who were ready to fight Germany to the last Russian soldier.... Do they understand that the fraternization at the present time is so intense, that pretty soon the boches will get the foodstuffs from the very hands of their Russian comrades? They must know that at present there are only few men to be hanged. The war will be won in a month. Tomorrow their number will be so big, that not enough hangmen could be found in the world to clean up Russia,--unless some Powers wish to see Russia amputated. This looks probable.

Today saw the British Major. He expressed his condolence for our grief. I received the impression (or perhaps I am getting too nervous and suspicious?) that he knows more than I.

14.

Quite unexpectedly the Baroness B. came today to the office. At first I did not want to see her, but then thought that it would be better not to make these dangerous people angry, as heaven knows what they are liable to do if irritated, and besides--she is so fascinating.

So she was shown in. She was veiled as much as only she could be, for mystery and to conceal the slight and ingenious coat of rouge, I guess. The usual feathers, rings and perfumes; and I had thought that I would see an ascetic face tired out by seclusion! She said that she had nothing serious to tell me, but had just run in to say good-bye and calm me; she was not going to call on Maroossia: "too busy and other reasons."

"I appreciate your other reasons," I said. "You have already shown what a friend you are. Why did you drag Maroossia into your business?

You probably are well protected against any disagreeable event, but we are not. So next time please, use your other reasons...."

"There was no dragging your wife into my business. The package of laces she took to Madame van der Huchts is not a crime. Besides everything is over; so, as if nothing had happened."

"Yes, it probably is nothing. Misha would be of a different opinion, I am sure."

"No, he would not."

There was a silence for a while, and then she said, sighing: (_line illegible_...) "For instance, we wanted to give you the whole outline inviting you to do something for your country--and you refused to help."

"Baroness," I said, "honestly and truly I don't understand these speculations. Just as honestly and just as truly I don't care for them, no matter what they are for. I hate this manner of operation.

The manner! I hate plots. I hate underground work, and the only thing I care for--is my own comfort and my own affairs."

"You don't know what you are talking about," she said, "or the atmosphere has made you so clever, that I don't know whether you are trying to get something out of me or not. Very well, I _am conspiring_. I am now with these people, with whom I would not have thought of being--only three months ago. As soon as I succeed--I shall leave all and become free and independent...."

Then she corrected herself; "I don't mean to say, of course, I am not independent now, but.... What time is it?"

I told her.

"Thank you. So you see.... What were we talking about?... Ah, yes, indeed,--how silly of me! Well so I am in a big game. It may seem that I am in the wrong. But think of the time when there will be a moment, when just a few persons, maybe only one person, will be able to appear again on the stage and become the nucleus of regeneration? And if I am wrong--and such moment will never come--it is so easy to get rid of those whom many persons are trying to preserve...."

"Yes," I said, smiling at her enthusiasm and innocent cynicism.

"Please omit your insinuations and sarcasm, you bad thing. I only see you are not patriotic, or you have something personal against me."

"You can judge better than others on this last point. It looks to me as though you were wrong about the rest, however....

(_a page torn out_)

"... I saw Tatiana (don't ask me questions, if you please!) and the girl said that there are only two acceptable ways: to be released by the will of the people, or taken against their will, a kidnapping staged. Other methods will meet with a refusal. That is why the Emperor refused a formal foreign intervention, for it would place them in a position of parasites with the "ex" title. After everything is through--all of your Kerenskys--a parasite could not be popular and desirable.... Well, she got up,--"goodby! Kiss Maroossia for me.

And here is a friendly warning: don't talk. _It is dangerous._ Don't trust. _It is silly_. Write to Sophie's house in Paris--it will reach me. So sorry we cannot be together!"

She left me.

15.

Saw a real picture of the time: General S-sky in the Renault with Joffe! Smiles and hand-shakes. Red arm-bands. The tall Dolivo-Dobrovolsky from the Foreign Office was with this couple. In January, when S-sky got his car he said: "I'd rather sell the car than let a Jew ride in it," when Gunzburg asked to use the automobile.

Madame D's apartment was robbed. Nobody knows "how it happened."

The house guard keeps silent on the subject. Paul sent her a wire to Kursk, very laconic: "home emptied everything stolen." Now he received a reply: "Sublet unfurnished." She is a darling. Never saw such energy. I wonder whether she is trying to get the Emperor out too?...

16.