CHAPTER XLIX
THE END OF AN ACT
How far we rode I can't say; but it was still dark when we halted at asmall isolated farmhouse, where Mishka roused the farmer, who came outgrumbling at being disturbed before daybreak. After a muttered colloquy,he led us in and called his wife to prepare tea and food for us, whilehe took charge of the horses.
"You must eat and sleep," Mishka announced in his gruff way. "You oughtto be still in the hospital; but we are fools, in these days, every oneof us! Ho--little father--shake down some hay in the barn; we will sleepthere."
I must have been utterly exhausted, for I slept heavily, dreamlessly,for many hours, and only woke under Mishka's hand, as he shook me.Through the doorway of the barn, the level rays of the westering sunshowed that the short November day was drawing to a close.
"You have slept long; that is well. But now we must be up and away if weare to reach Kutno to-night."
"You go with me?"
"So far, yes. If there are no trains running yet, we go on toAlexandrovo. I shall not leave you till I have set you safely on yourway. Those are my orders."
"I don't know why I'm going," I muttered dejectedly, sitting up amongthe hay. "I would rather have stayed."
"You go because he ordered you to; and we all obey him, whether we likeit or not!" he retorted. "And he was right to send you. Why should youthrow your life away for nothing? Come, there is no time to waste inwords. I have brought you water; wash and dress. Remember you are nolonger a disreputable revolutionist, but a respectable American citizen,and we must make you look a little more like one."
There was something queer in his manner. Gruff as ever, he yet spoke tome, treated me, almost as if I were a child who had to be heartened up,as well as taken care of. But I didn't resent it. I knew it was his wayof showing affection; and it touched me keenly. We had learned tounderstand each other well, and no man ever had a stancher comrade thanI had in Mishka Pavloff.
During that last of our many rides together he was far less taciturnthen usual; I had never heard him say so much at one stretch as he didwhile we pressed on through the dusk.
"We have shown you something of the real Russia since you came back--howmany weeks since? And now, if you get safe across the frontier, you willbe wise to remain there, as any wise man--or woman either--who valueslife."
"I don't value my life," I interrupted bitterly.
"You think you do not. That is because you are hasty and ignorant,though the ignorance is not your fault. You think your heart is broken,_hein_? Well, one of these days, not long hence, perhaps, you will thinkdifferently; and find that life is a good thing after all,--when it hasnot to be lived in Russia! If we ever meet again, you will know I havespoken the truth."
I knew that before many days had passed, and wondered then how much hecould have told me if he had been minded.
"If we meet again!" I echoed sadly. "Is that likely, friend Mishka?"
"God knows! Stranger things have happened. If I die with, or before mymaster,--well, I die. If I do not, I, too, shall make for the frontierwhen he no longer has need of me. Where is the good of staying? Whatshould I do here? I would like to see peace--yes, but there will be nopeace within this generation--"
"But your father?" I asked, thinking of the stanch old man, who had goneback to his duty at Zostrov.
"My father is dead."
"Dead!" I exclaimed, startled for the moment out of the inertness thatparalyzed my brain.
"He was murdered a week after he returned to Zostrov. There was troublewith the _moujiks_,--as I knew there would be. The garrison at thecastle was helpless, and there was trouble there also, first about mylittle bomb that covered our retreat. You knew I planned that,--_hein_?"
"No, but I suspected it."
"And you said nothing; you are discreet enough in your way. _He_ neversuspected,--does not even now; he thinks it was a plot hatched by hisenemies--perhaps by Stravensky himself, the old fox! But we should neverhave got through to Warsaw, if, for a time, at least, all had notbelieved that he and I and you were finished off in that affair. Betterfor him perhaps, if it had been so!"
He fell silent, and I know he was thinking of the last tragedy, as Iwas. The memory of it was hard enough for me to bear; what must it notbe for Loris?
"Yes, there was much trouble," Mishka resumed. "Old Stravensky wassummoned to Petersburg, and he had scarcely set out before therevolution began, and the troops were recalled. There was but a smallgarrison left; I doubt if they would have moved a finger in any case;and so the _moujiks_ took their own way, and my father--went to hisreward. He was a good man, and their best friend for many a year, butthat they did not understand, since the Almighty has made them beastswithout understanding!"
The darkness had fallen, but I guessed he shrugged his shoulders in theway I knew so well. A fatalist to the finger-tips was Mishka.
"The news came three days since," he continued. "And such news willcome, in time, from every country district. I tell you all you have seenand known is but the beginning, and God knows what the end will be!Therefore, as I have said, this is no country for honest peaceable folk.My mother died long since, God be thanked; and now but one tie holds mehere."
"Look, yonder are the lights of Kutno."
The town was comparatively quiet, though it was thronged with soldiers,and there were plenty of signs that Kutno had passed through its owndays of terror, and was probably in for more in the near future.
We left our horses at a _kabak_ and walked through the squalid streetsto the equally squalid railway depot where we parted, almost in silence.
"God be with you," Mishka growled huskily. His face looked more grimthan ever under the poor light of a street-lamp near, and he held myhands in a grip whose marks I bore for a week after.
He strode heavily away, never once looking back, and I turned into thedepot, where I found the entrance, the ticket office, and the platformguarded by surly, unkempt soldiers with fixed bayonets. I lost count ofthe times I had to produce my passport; and turned a deaf ear to theinsults lavished upon me by most of my interlocutors. I thought I hadbetter resume my pretended ignorance of Russian and trust to German tocarry me through, as it did. I was allowed to board one of the cars atlast; they were filthy, lighted only by a candle here and there, andcrowded with refugees of all classes. I was lucky to get in at all, and,though all the cars were soon crammed to their utmost capacity, it wasan hour or more before the train started. Then it crawled and joltedthrough the darkness at a pace that I reckoned would land us atAlexandrovo somewhere about noon next day,--if we ever got there at all.
But the indescribable discomforts of that long night journey at leastprevented anything in the way of coherent thought. I look back on it nowas a blank interval; a curtain dropped at the end of a long and luridact in the drama of life.
At Alexandrovo more soldiers, more hustling, more interrogations; thenthe barrier, and beyond,--freedom!
I've a hazy notion that I arrived at a big, well-lighted station, andwas taken possession of by some one who hustled me into a cab; but thenext thing I remember clearly was waking and finding myself in bed,--anice clean bed, with a huge down pillow affair on top,--in a bigwell-furnished room. That down affair--I couldn't remember the name ofit for the moment--and the whole aspect of the room showed that I was ina German hotel; though how I got there I really couldn't remember. Irang the bell; my hand felt so heavy that I could scarcely lift it asfar, and it looked curiously thin, with blue marks, like faint bruiseson it, and the veins stood out.
A plump, comfortable looking woman, in a nurse's uniform, bustled in;and beamed at me quite affectionately.
"Now, this is better! Yes, I said it would be so!" she exclaimed inGerman. "You feel quite yourself again, but weak,--yes, that is only tobe expected--"
"Will you be so good as to tell me where I am?" I asked, as politely asI knew how; staring at her, and wondering if I'd ever seen her before.
"Oh, you men! No sooner do you find
your tongue and your senses than youbegin to ask questions! And yet you say it is women who are thetalkers!" she answered, with a kind of ponderous archness. "You are atthe Hotel Reichshof to be sure; and being well taken care of. The head?"she touched my forehead with her firm, cool fingers. "It hurts no more?Ah, it has healed beautifully; I did well to remove the strappingsyesterday. There will be a scar, yes, but that cannot be helped. And nowyou are hungry? Ah, we will soon set that right! It is as I said, thougheven the doctor would not believe me. The wounds are nothing,--so tospeak; the exhaustion was the mischief. You came through from Russia?What times they are having there! You were fortunate to get through atall. Yes, you are a very fortunate man, and an excellent patient;therefore you shall have some breakfast!"
She worried me, with her persistent cheerfulness, but it would have beenungracious to tell her so. She was right in one way, though. I wasravenously hungry; and when she returned, bringing a tray with deliciouscoffee and rolls, I started on them, and let her babble away, as shedid,--nineteen to the dozen.
I gathered that nearly a week had passed since I got to Berlin. Thehotel tout had captured me at the depot, and I collapsed as I got out ofthe cab.
"In the ordinary way, you would have been sent to a hospital, but whenthey saw the portrait--"
"What portrait?" I asked; but even as I spoke my memory was returning,and I knew she must mean the miniature Loris had given me.
"What portrait? Why, the Fraulein Pendennis, to be sure!"
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