Pashinsky passed near me talking with another Red. He felt badly I am sure,--he did not look at me.

I rolled the piece of paper, stuck it on the edge of the sharp bayonette and putting the rifle on my shoulder, directed it towards the window. I felt when it was taken. Then I joined my fellow jailers.

48

Today I saw a man who resembled strikingly the Tumen Russian of the profane language. And it reminded me very much of the Ls., of the English officer, of the fellow with dark eyeglasses--and of Lucie. I felt abandoned again. So I went to the Church, but then turned back: I cannot go in, for it might spoil my reputation of a Red. However, I stood for a bit near the doors and listened to the singers, and then decided to go to the Catholic church, for only Russian Reds must not pray; Polish Reds happen to have this privilege.

There is no difference in fact. I wanted to be closer to something elevated.

The lights were so quiet and peaceful looking in the dark church through high-colored windows. There were not many people in their church, so I could concentrate. But instead of a Christian quiet, I got something else. I guess the idea came to me when I thought that Pashinsky was a Pole.

I began to think that I could not do very much here,--but still something. They will try to annoy the Princesses, and I must protect them. Thus--my staying here will be justified. If Pashinsky or the Letts should do something that would be bad, I'll kill them,--or some of them. When I thought of it, I looked at the Holy Faces; the sun came out of the white clouds, the rays fell on the walls,--and the Faces smiled at me. "Yes," I thought, "if my decision is not agreeable,--the sun will hide behind the clouds again. I'll wait for five minutes"--the sun did not hide,--so--this was accepted. Then I tried to figure how to do it, and found a way. I'll get Pashinsky at the first attempt.

My God, what nonsense I think of!...

49

Schtolz. Jackson. Vieren. The man with the wounded leg. Kitser.

Dutzman. Khokhriakov. Fost. Pashinsky. Kart. Fedor. Laksman. Vassiliev (son). Kobylinsky. Perkel. Niestadt. Cymes. Leibner. Vert. Wang-Lee.

Frenkel. The fat Kister. Vygardt....

(_a few lines scratched out_)

50

The "Kitai" was at the pier when we--the detachment of twelve, guarding a silent man and a hysterical woman--came there under the cover of night; it was raining, though the air was warm. The Irtysh stood fragrant with this odor of a big, noble river. The waters--in which sank Yermak under his heavy corselet--the same waters were carrying toward the unknown--the Imperial Family.

Though their departure was supposed to be made in secrecy, there was a crowd of people on the pier--we tried to chase them away, but they stood there. An ascetic figure was standing on the next pier, lit only by a few lanterns. This black figure lifted a cross and blessed the Emperor, who tenderly released his hand from the spasmatic grip of his terrified wife and made the sign of the cross.

"Quit that, Reverend scoundrel," I heard Khokhriakov's voice. "Who asked _you_ to come?"

The priest answered:

"Thou knowest not what thou art committing."

"Ah, shut up! To hell with your citations, you old idiot!

"Take him down over there. Isn't there anyone to choke him?"

continued Khokhriakov bending over the hand-rails. "This ass is propagating,--don't you see, comrades?"

No one, however, moved. This crowd around the Bishop all answered.

Their answer,--a blunt roaring,--sounded like distant thunder and there was such a frightening unity in this dull noise,--that I had the shivers.

"You cowards!" bellowed the sailor, "I'll have to come back and finish with the pope myself! It will not be the first one, anyhow. It's too late now! Be damned you all! Go ahead!" The gangplanks dropped.

The steamer started to move.

The priest stood still blessing her passengers,--the Emperor, the Empress, the bolsheviki,--the crew,--all, all of them. And, wet under the rain, this figure vested in black, with a shiny cross lifted high in the air, will for a long time remain in my memory.

The Mansion was black; not a light in the windows. The four girls, left alone in this nest of rattlesnakes,--were probably sitting in some far distant corner,--crying, trembling, praying,--and waiting for the worst, which they feared was coming.

51

To kill a man? Nothing more agreeable if it is the right one,--I should say! And in such country where the trial is impossible. I did not know I ever could,--but...

Pashinsky started soon after the Emperor was taken. He and Fost asked me for a conference behind the quarters, when we were waiting to change the watchmen. Both had a confidential expression on their faces.

"You see here, Syva,--what is planned. You and Fost stay under the windows, and go around, just as you please. I'll go upstairs, and listen. If there is no one around I'll call you up. I know that they are all alone."

I consented, and when they left I wrote a note: "_Si, se soir, quelcun tache de forcer l'entree de votre chambre, je vous implore de rester calme et sure que je suis avec Vous et Vos soeurs a vous proteger. Ne craignez rien, ne criez pas_!" I wrote it in French in order to assure them of the faith in me--and prove my identity--and signed my real name.

It looked funny to me; I think now I am Syvorotka,--honestly Syvorotka, formerly of the 7th of Hussars!

I went out and looked around. The Pole and the Lett were talking and gazing from time to time at the upper windows. Then the Pole approached: "How much would you take from me not to go up at all, and let me do it alone?" and then, becoming sweet and fawning--.

"You see, Syva," he said, "Fost consented. Why shouldn't you? I'll give you just as much."

"Did you consent, Fost?" I asked.

"Yes," said the Lett, digging in his short nose, "I did. I have grown-up daughters at home. I cannot. Besides he gives me money, so why shouldn't I? I will stay in the corridor and won't let anybody come in, on this side of the House. I know nothing of your business.

Go on, have your pleasure."

"No, Pashinsky," I said, "that will not do. I must be with you. I have to protect you besides, you idiot; Fost can only see what is in the house, but supposing someone comes from down here? You think they will forget such an outrage to the Soviets? I will be with you somewhere behind, and when you call me I will come out. Hope you won't forget me."

Pashinsky thought over my proposition for a second,--thinking was a strenuous effort for him. His obscene face wore a suffering and preoccupied expression; then he said:

"I think you are right. We'll let Fost stay and watch the inner doors, and you and I will be alone in this side of the house. Then the men on the streets can't catch us, and we will be protected from the inside too...."

Then he had some idea. A bad one, I am sure!

"All right, that's a good way, anyhow. Now I am going to take a bath,--I need it. If somebody asks for me, say so."