Michael Strogoff; Or the Courier of the Czar: A Literary Classic

by Jules Verne

  “You lie!” exclaimed the Grand Duke, endeavouring in vain to curb his passion.

  “I speak the truth, your Highness,” replied Ivan Ogareff coldly. “I was present at the battle of Krasnoiarsk, and it was there I was made prisoner!”

  The Grand Duke grew calmer, and by a significant gesture he gave Ogareff to understand that he did not doubt his veracity.

  “What day did this battle of Krasnoiarsk take place?” he asked.

  “On the 2nd of September.”

  “And now all the Tartar troops are concentrated around Irkutsk?”

  “All.”

  “And you estimate them . . . ?”

  “At about four hundred thousand men.”

  Another exaggeration of Ogareff’s in the estimate of the Tartar army, with the same object as before in view.

  “And I must not expect any help from the West provinces?” asked the Grand Duke.

  “None, your Highness, at any rate before the end of the winter.”

  “Well, hear this, Michael Strogoff. Though I must expect no help either from the East or from the West, even were these barbarians six hundred thousand strong, I will never give up Irkutsk!”

  Ogareff’s evil eye slightly contracted. The traitor thought to himself that the brother of the Czar did not reckon the result of treason.

  The Grand Duke, who was of a nervous temperament, had great difficulty in keeping calm whilst hearing this disastrous news. He walked to and fro in the room, under the gaze of Ogareff, who eyed him as a victim reserved for his vengeance. He stopped at the windows, he looked forth at the fires in the Tartar camp, he listened to the various noises which, for the most part, were occasioned by the crashing of the ice-blocks drifting down the Angara.

  A quarter of an hour passed without his putting any more questions. Then taking up the letter, he re-read a passage and said:

  “You know, Michael Strogoff, that in this letter I am warned of a traitor, of whom I must beware?”

  “Yes, your Highness.”

  “He will try to enter Irkutsk in disguise; gain my confidence, and when the time comes, betray the town to the Tartars.”

  “I know all that, your Highness, and I know also that Ivan Ogareff has sworn to revenge himself personally on the Czar’s brother.”

  “Why?”

  “It is said that the officer in question was condemned by the Grand Duke to a humiliating degradation.”

  “Yes . . . I remember. . . . But it is a proof that the villain, who could afterwards serve against his country and head an invasion of barbarians, deserved it.”

  “His Majesty the Czar,” said Ogareff, “was particularly anxious that you should be warned of the criminal projects of Ivan Ogareff against your person.”

  “Yes; of that the letter informs me.”

  “And His Majesty himself spoke to me of it, telling me that in my journey across Siberia, I was above all things to beware of the traitor.”

  “Did you meet with him?”

  “Yes, your Highness, after the battle of Krasnoiarsk. If he had only guessed that I was the bearer of a letter addressed to your Highness, in which his plans were revealed, I should not have got off so easily.”

  “No; you would have been lost!” replied the Grand Duke. “And how did you manage to escape?”

  “By throwing myself into the Irtyche.”

  “And how did you enter Irkutsk?”

  “Under cover of a sortie, which was made this evening to repulse a Tartar detachment I mingled with the defenders of the town, made myself known, and was immediately conducted before your Highness.”

  “Good, Michael Strogoff,” answered the Grand Duke. “You have shown courage and zeal in your difficult mission. I will not forget you. Have you any favour to ask of me?”

  “None; unless it is to be allowed to fight at the side of your Highness,” replied Ogareff.

  “So be it, Strogoff. I attach you from to-day to my person, and you shall be lodged in the palace.”

  “And if according to his intention, Ivan Ogareff should present himself to your Highness under a false name . . . ?”

  “We will unmask him, thanks to you, who know him, and I will make him die under the knout. Go!”

  Ivan Ogareff gave a military salute, not forgetting that he was captain of the corps of couriers of the Czar, and retired.

  Ogareff had so far played his unworthy part with success. The Grand Duke’s full and entire confidence had been accorded him. He could now betray it whenever it suited him. He would inhabit the very palace. He would be in the secret of all the operations for the defence of the town. He thus held the situation in his hand, as it were. No one in Irkutsk knew him, no one could snatch off his mask. He resolved therefore to set to work without delay.

  Indeed, time pressed. The town must be given up before the arrival of the Russians from the North and East, and that was only a question of a few days. The Tartars once masters of Irkutsk, it would not be easy to take it again from them. At any rate, even if they were obliged to abandon it later, they would not do so before they bad utterly destroyed it, and before the head of the Grand Duke had rolled at the feet of Feofar-Khan.

  Ivan Ogareff, having every facility for seeing, observing, and acting, occupied himself the next day with visiting the ramparts. He was everywhere received with cordial congratulations from officers, soldiers, and citizens. To them this courier from the Czar was a link which connected them with the empire.

  Ogareff recounted, with an assurance which never failed, numerous fictitious events of his journey. Then, with the cunning for which he was noted, without dwelling too much on it at first, he spoke of the gravity of the situation, exaggerating the success of the Tartars and the numbers of the barbarian forces, as he had when speaking to the Grand Duke. According to him, the expected succours would be insufficient, if ever they arrived at all, and it was to be feared that a battle fought under the walls of Irkutsk would be as fatal as the battles of Kolyvan, Tomsk, and Krasnoiarsk.

  Ogareff was not too free in these insinuations. He wished to allow them to sink gradually into the minds of the defenders of Irkutsk. He pretended only to answer with reluctance when much pressed with questions. He always added that they must fight to the last man, and blow up the town rather than yield!

  These false statements would have done more harm had it been possible; but the garrison and the population of Irkutsk were too patriotic to let themselves be moved. Of all the soldiers and citizens shut up in this town, isolated at the extremity of the Asiatic world, not one dreamed of even speaking of a capitulation. The contempt of the Russians for these barbarians was boundless.

  No one suspected the odious part played by Ivan Ogareff; no one guessed that the pretended courier of the Czar was a traitor. It occurred very naturally that on his arrival in Irkutsk, a frequent intercourse was established between Ogareff and one of the bravest defenders of the town, Wassili Fedor. We know what anxiety this unhappy father suffered. If his daughter, Nadia Fedor, had left Russia on the date fixed by the last letter he had received from Riga, what had become of her? Was she still trying to cross the invaded provinces, or had she long since been taken prisoner? The only alleviation to Wassili Fedor’s anxiety was when he could obtain an opportunity of engaging in battle with the Tartars—opportunities which came too seldom for his taste.

  When, therefore, Wassili Fedor heard of the unexpected arrival of a courier from the Czar, he had a hope that he might gain information from him of his daughter. It was probably but a chimerical hope, but he dwelt upon it. Had not this courier been himself a prisoner, as perhaps Nadia now was?

  Wassili Fedor sought out Ogareff, who seized the opportunity of forming an intimacy with the captain. Did the renegade expect to turn this circumstance to account? Did he judge all men by himself? Did he believe that a Russian, even though a political exile, could be base enough to betray his country?

  However that might be, Ogareff replied with cleverly feigned warmth to the advances mad
e to him by Nadia’s father. The very evening the pretended courier arrived, Wassili Fedor went to the governor-general’s palace and, acquainting Ogareff with the circumstances under which his daughter must have left European Russia, told him all his uneasiness about her.

  Ivan Ogareff did not know Nadia, although he had met her at Ichim on the day she was there with Michael Strogoff; but then, he had not paid more attention to her than to the two reporters, who at the same time were in the post-house; he therefore could give Wassili Fedor no news of his daughter.

  “But at what time,” asked Ogareff, “must your daughter have left the Russian territory?”

  “About the same time that you did,” replied Wassili Fedor.

  “I left Moscow on the 15th July.”

  “Nadia must also have quitted Moscow at that time. Her letter told me so expressly.”

  “She was in Moscow on the 15th of July?” asked Ogareff.

  “Yes, certainly, by that date.”

  “Well! . . . .” answered Ogareff.

  Then he continued:

  “But no, I am mistaken. . . . . I was confusing dates. . . . . Unfortunately, it is too probable that your daughter must have passed the frontier, and you can only have one hope, that she stopped on learning the news of the Tartar invasion!”

  The father’s head fell! He knew Nadia, and he knew too well that nothing would have prevented her from setting out.

  Ivan Ogareff had just committed gratuitously an act of real cruelty. With a word he might have reassured Fedor. Although Nadia had passed the frontier under circumstances with which we are acquainted, Wassili Fedor, by comparing the date on which his daughter would have been at Nijni-Novgorod, and the date of the proclamation which forbade any one to leave it, would no doubt have concluded thus: that Nadia had not been exposed to the dangers of the invasion, and that she was still, in spite of herself, in the European territory of the Empire.

  Ivan Ogareff, obedient to his nature, that of a man who was never touched by the sufferings of others, might have said that word. . . . . He did not say it.

  Wassili Fedor retired with his heart broken. In that interview his last hope was crushed.

  During the two following days, the 3rd and 4th of October, the Grand Duke often spoke to the pretended Michael Strogoff, and made him repeat all that he had heard in the Imperial Cabinet of the New Palace. Ogareff, prepared for all these questions, replied without the least hesitation. He intentionally did not conceal that the Czar’s government had been utterly surprised by the invasion, that the insurrection had been prepared in the greatest possible secrecy, that the Tartars were already masters of the line of the Obi when the news reached Moscow, and lastly, that none of the necessary preparations were completed in the Russian provinces for sending into Siberia the troops requisite for repulsing the invaders.

  Ivan Ogareff, being entirely free in his movements, began to study Irkutsk, the state of its fortifications, their weak points, so as to profit subsequently by his observations, in the event of being prevented by some occurrence from consummating his act of treason. He examined particularly the Bokhara Gate, the one he wished to deliver up.

  Twice in the evening he came upon the glacis of this gate. He walked up and down, without fear of being discovered by the besiegers, whose nearest posts were at least a mile from the ramparts. He knew therefore that he was exposed to no danger from them, and he fancied that he was recognized by no one, till he caught sight of a shadow gliding along at the foot of the earthworks.

  Sangarre had come at the risk of her life for the purpose of endeavouring to put herself in communication with Ivan Ogareff.

  For two days the besieged had enjoyed a tranquillity to which the Tartars had not accustomed them since the commencement of the investment.

  This was by Ogareff’s orders. Feofar-Khan’s lieutenant wished that all attempts to take the town by force should be suspended. Since, therefore, his arrival in Irkutsk, the guns had been silent Perhaps, also, at least so he hoped, the watchfulness of the besieged would relax. At any rate, several thousand Tartars were kept in readiness at the outposts, to attack the gate, deserted, as Ogareff anticipated that it would be, by its defenders, whenever he should summon the besiegers to the assault.

  This he could not now delay in doing. All must be over by the time that the Russian troops should come in sight of Irkutsk. Ogareff’s arrangements were made, and on this evening a note fell from the top of the earthworks into Sangarre’s hands.

  On the next day, that is to say during the hours of darkness from the 5th to the 6th of October, at two o’clock in the morning, Ivan Ogareff had resolved to deliver up Irkutsk.

  CHAPTER XIV.

  THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER.

  IVAN OGAREFF’S plan had been contrived with the greatest care, and except for some unforeseen accident he believed that it must succeed. It was of importance that the Bolchaïa Gate should be free when he gave it up. The attention of the besieged was therefore to be drawn to another part of the town. A diversion was agreed upon with the Emir.

  This diversion was to be effected on the suburban side of Irkutsk, up and down the river, on its right bank. The attack on these two points was to be conducted in earnest, and at the same time a feigned attempt at crossing the Angara on the left bank was to be made. The Bolchaïa Gate would be probably deserted, so much the more because on this side the Tartar outposts having drawn back, would appear to have broken up.

  It was the 5th of October. In four and twenty hours, the capital of Eastern Siberia would be in the hands of the Emir, and the Grand Duke in the power of Ivan Ogareff.

  During the day, an unusual stir was going on in the Angara camp. From the windows of the palace and the houses on the right bank, important preparations on the opposite shore could be distinctly seen. Numerous Tartar detachments were converging towards the camp, and from hour to hour reinforced the Emir’s troops. These movements, intended to deceive the besieged, were conducted in the most open manner possible before their eyes.

  Ogareff had not concealed from the Grand Duke that an attack on this side was to be feared. He knew, he said, that an assault was to be made, both above and below the town, and he counselled the Duke to reinforce the two more directly threatened points.

  These preparations were carried out in order to support the advice given by Ogareff, which he was most urgent should be taken into consideration. Accordingly, after a council of war had been held in the palace, orders were issued to concentrate the defence on the right bank of the Angara and at the two ends of the town, where the earthworks protected the river.

  This was exactly what Ogareff wished. He did not expect that the Bolchaïa Gate would be left entirely without defenders, but that there would only be a small number. Besides, Ogareff meant to give such importance to the diversion, that the Grand Duke would be obliged to oppose it with all his available forces.

  In fact, an occurrence of exceptional gravity, designed by Ogareff, was to afford its powerful aid to the accomplishment of his design. Even had Irkutsk not been attacked but on the distant point of the Bolchaïa Gate and the right bank of the river, this occurrence would be sufficient to attract the whole mass of defenders exactly to the spot to which Ogareff wished to draw them. His purpose was at the same time to produce so frightful a catastrophe that terror must inevitably overwhelm the hearts of the besieged.

  There was every chance that the gate, left free at the time appointed, would be clear for the entrance of the thousands of Tartars now concealed under cover of the thick forest to the East.

  All day the garrison and population of Irkutsk were on the alert. The measures to repel an attack on the points hitherto unassailed had been taken. The Grand Duke and General Voranzoff visited the posts, strengthened by their orders. Wassili Fedor’s corps occupied the North of the town, but with orders to throw themselves where the danger was greatest. The right bank of the Angara had been protected with the few guns possessed by the defenders. With these measures, t
aken in time, thanks to the advice so opportunely given by Ivan Ogareff, there was good reason to hope that the expected attack would be repulsed. In that case the Tartars, momentarily discouraged, would no doubt not make another attempt against the town for several days. Now the troops expected by the Grand Duke might arrive at any hour. The safety or the loss of Irkutsk hung only by a thread.

  On this day, the sun which had risen at twenty minutes to six, set at forty minutes past five, having traced its diurnal arc for eleven hours above the horizon. The twilight would struggle with the night for another two hours. Then it would be intensely dark, for the sky was cloudy, and there would be no moon.

  This gloom would favour the plans of Ivan Ogareff.

  For a few days already a sharp frost had given warning of the approaching rigour of the Siberian winter, and this evening it was especially severe. The soldiers posted on the right bank of the Angara, obliged to conceal their position, had lighted no fires. They suffered cruelly from the low temperature. A few feet below them, the ice in large masses drifted down the current. All day these masses had been seen passing rapidly between the two banks.

  This had been considered by the Grand Duke and his officers as a fortunate circumstance.

  Should the channel of the Angara continue to be thus obstructed, the passage must be impracticable. The Tartars could use neither rafts nor boats. As to supposing that they could cross the river on the ice, that was not possible. The newly-frozen plain could not bear the weight of an assaulting column.

  But this circumstance, as it appeared favourable to the defenders of Irkutsk, Ogareff might have regretted. He did not do so, however!

  The traitor knew well that the Tartars would not try to pass the Angara, and that, on its side at least, their attempt was only a feint.

  About ten in the evening, however, the state of the river sensibly improved, to the great surprise of the besieged and still more to their disadvantage. The passage, till then impracticable, became all at once possible. The bed of the Angara was clear. The blocks of ice, which had for some days drifted past in large numbers, disappeared down the current, and five or six only now occupied the space between the banks. They no longer presented even the same structure as those formed under ordinary conditions and by the influence of a regular frost. They were simple pieces, torn off from some icefield, smooth, and not rising in rugged lumps.