FRANZ DE JESS EN
 
 1BRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CAL IFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 Mfo 
 
 '/let- 
 
 X 
 
 y 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 A;UIR Revere

 
 Katya
 
 Katya 
 
 A Romance of Russia 
 
 By 
 
 Franz de , lessen 
 
 J 
 
 Boston 
 John W. Luce & Company
 
 Translated from the Danish by 
 W. J. ALEXANDER WORSTER 
 
 PRINTED IN ENGLAND
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I 
 THE WHITE PALACE IN UKRAINE 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. YOUNG PEOPLE AT PRILUKA I 
 
 II. WHAT HAPPENED TO PETRUSHKA IO 
 
 III. NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 2O 
 
 IV. " ROW, PETYA, ROW !" 37 
 V. THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 50 
 
 VI. FATES AND FORTUNES 68 
 
 VII. A COSSACK IN PARIS 82 
 
 VIII. THE GENERAL AT HIS WORK 94 
 
 IX. KATYA LISTENS IO2 
 
 X. NIKI IS DISMISSED 121 
 
 xi. v^ VICTIS ! 132 
 
 BOOK II 
 THE CITY OF SUFFERING 
 
 I. NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 150 
 
 II. THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 1 68 
 
 III. " SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA i" 1 82 
 
 IV. ANNA NIKOLAIEVNA 1 96 
 V. HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS >Of 
 
 VI. THE RUSSIAN CONSUL WRITES HIS LAST 
 
 REPORT 2IQ 
 
 VII. THE BITTER HARVEST 22Q 
 V
 
 vi CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK III 
 THE ADMIRAL 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A NATIONAL HEROINE 253 
 
 ii. KATYA'S RESOURCES 263 
 
 III. A LOSING GAME 274 
 
 IV. WAITING AND DOUBT 287 
 V. THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 296 
 
 VI. A DAY OF BLOOD 312 
 
 VII. FEVER 322 
 
 VIII. THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 33! 
 
 IX. THE ADMIRAL 344 
 
 X. THE FINISHED PATTERN 374 
 
 XI. DETHRONED 389 
 
 XII. JUDGMENT 400
 
 BOOK I 
 THE WHITE PALACE IN UKRAINE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 YOUNG PEOPLE AT PRILUKA 
 
 TATIANA FEODOROVNA had served for many years as house- 
 keeper to Prince Rilinski on his estate, Priluka. She had 
 never known serfdom herself, either under the present holder 
 of the title, Prince Sergei Arkadievitch, or in his father's time. 
 Her husband, however, had been born a serf at Priluka, and 
 to the day of his death the poor fellow had never realized that 
 the edict of the Tsar, whereby all serfdom was abolished, in 
 any way concerned himself. He had never been particularly 
 bright, save among his horses. Tatiana had been through a 
 hard time of it with him, and often, when he came home 
 drunk, had she begged the men to tie him up, lest he should 
 do herself or the child some injury. To do him justice, how- 
 ever, he knew how to manage his horses, whether on the roads 
 of Ukraine or in the streets of St. Petersburg, Moscow, or 
 Odessa. Prince Sergei Arkadievitch took him everywhere, 
 and seemed, indeed, to be even more affected by his death 
 than Tatiana herself. 
 
 " He has driven me many a mile," said Prince Sergei to the 
 widow. " He might have laid by a fortune out of the tips 
 he got when we travelled together on service, but he drank 
 it all up, every kopek. And yet he was always sober enough 
 on the box always, for he was an artist in his way. Let 
 that console you, Tanya. All the best traditions of the country 
 in the management of horses lived again in him. We will 
 pray for his soul." 
 
 Later on the child died, too, and Tatiana Feodorovna 
 thought she would never survive the loss. The Princess and 
 her two little girls had cried, and everyone had been so good
 
 2 KATYA 
 
 which kindly consolation seemed to make things somehow 
 worse than she herself had realized at first. 
 
 "My poor Tanya!" said the Princess, stroking her hair; 
 " what can I do ? If only we could do something to help 
 you, were it but ever so little !" 
 
 And Tatiana Feodorovna remembered how the two children 
 had stood one on either side of her, each holding a hand. 
 Sonya looked up at her with big wet eyes, quiet and solemn 
 as if she were in church ; but Katya crushed her hand, sobbing 
 violently all the time, and stammered out in a choking voice: 
 " I'll always be good now; I will always be kind to Tanya !" 
 
 But all that was long ago ten or twelve years now. Tatiana 
 Feodorovna could never recollect exactly how long ago it was. 
 The date was painted on the little cross in the cemetery, and 
 now and then she would get someone who could read to spell 
 it out for her; but she forgot it again, doubtless because she 
 always had an idea that it must be wrong, somehow or other. 
 She mentioned her doubts to Alexander Sergeivitch. He was 
 a pale and sickly boy, but there was about him something of 
 the same quiet dignity of manner which his father had, as if 
 continual illness and the many books he read had made him 
 older and wiser than his years. 
 
 " Sasha," said Tatiana Feodorovna, sliding a spoonful of 
 the boy's favourite preserve into his tea " Sasha, is it right, 
 do you think that date in the cemetery ?" 
 
 " Why not, Tanya ? Papa told the painter himself what 
 to put." 
 
 " But he might have painted it wrong. He drinks, I know. 
 Or perhaps people don't read it properly." 
 
 " There's only one way to read such things, Tanya." 
 
 " But, Sasha, it can't be so long ago as all that, for I 
 remember it all so well. It might have been yesterday. Or 
 else it must be much longer, for so many things have hap- 
 pened since. You were all so little then, and it was before 
 Mikailo came to be coachman ; and he's been here a long time 
 now, gipsy that he is. Also, it was before Katya had the 
 measles, but after we had sold the house in Kief. I'm sure 
 of that." 
 
 Sasha shook his head wearily, and Tatiana Feodorovna 
 summed up the matter herself with a deep sigh. 
 
 " Anyhow, she's dead now, the little thing !"
 
 YOUNG PEOPLE AT PRTLUKA 3 
 
 And now it was summer again one of the burning days of 
 early July, without a breath of wind to stir the heavy stifling 
 heat that hung like a burden about the Palace and its park. 
 Fierce sunlight flung itself on lawn and lake; the ceaseless 
 shimmer of the burning air was dazzling everywhere; and in 
 and all about the great house a languid stillness reigned. 
 
 In the dining-room Tatiana Feodorovna was superintending 
 the preparations for lunch; Dimitri and one of the maids were 
 laying the table. 
 
 "... Six, seven, eight," she counted aloud, dropping the 
 serviettes in their rings of silver, silk, or wood into her apron. 
 
 " Here, Dimitri; that's the Prince's. Up there at the head 
 of the table, back to the window. H'm ! he's been buying 
 more of that nasty messy stuff for his moustache. Just look 
 at that ! I'd be ashamed to send it to the wash. That's for 
 the Princess. Opposite end. That's right. And Alexander 
 Sergeievitch on the left of the Prince see how clean he keeps 
 his serviette, and so neatly folded, too ! Sonya Sergeievna 
 next to her brother nice and clean, too; but then she eats 
 next to nothing, bless her little heart ! Then Nikolai Niko- 
 laievitch on her other hand " 
 
 " But Ekaterina . . ." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, stupid ! What do you know about 
 it ? ... Lay for Nikolai Nikolaievitch between Sonya Ser- 
 geievna and the Princess, and keep your remarks to yourself. 
 Peotr Konstantinovitch on the Prince's right he's going 
 into the navy. And Vladimir Alexandrovitch there's a 
 serviette for you ! Not a spot, not a crease like everything 
 else about him. And Ekaterina Sergeievna there on the left 
 of the Princess crumpled and messy, as usual. Heavens ! 
 was there ever such a child ! . . ." 
 
 " Now what have I been doing ? Tanya, that's not nice of 
 you !" Katya's head and shoulders appeared over the sill of 
 one of the low windows that opened on to the courtyard. 
 " And I was just going to ask you ..." 
 
 " What's the matter now ?" 
 
 " Tanya, dear old Taniushka, do give me a glass of kvas ; 
 I'm so thirsty !" 
 
 " Couldn't think of such a thing, and just before lunch, too. 
 The idea ! Always wanting things at the wrong time ! . . ." 
 
 " Only this once, Tanya. I'm simply dying for something
 
 4 KATYA 
 
 to drink. We've been out on the lake, Petya and Sonya and I. 
 The heat was simply awful." 
 
 " Serve you right, going out rowing at this time of day. 
 It's no use coming here bothering me; you won't get anything. 
 And the bottles are cooling in the well, so I couldn't give it 
 you if I would." 
 
 " Ugh, nasty old thing !" Katya shook an offended shoulder 
 and turned away. Dimitri and the maid exchanged a covert 
 smile. 
 
 Katya strolled off, making a devour to avoid suspicion. She 
 had taken off her big straw hat, and was swinging it care- 
 lessly by the ribbon. In summer, when the house ran short 
 of ice, the well was used as a cooling-cellar for such wine and 
 liquors as were required for the table. Alexei, the old gar- 
 dener, attended to this department, under the supervision of 
 Tatiana Feodorovna, who took care that not so much as a 
 drop of lemonade was lost in the process. 
 
 " Morning, Alek," began Katya, in her silkiest voice. 
 " How well you're looking ! As young as ever ! It's a treat 
 to see." 
 
 " That's kind of you to say so, Barishna. But I'm getting 
 old I'm getting old. Seventy-eight, says Mother Eugenia; 
 but that I don't believe. I've always reckoned it like this: 
 I'm ten years older than the Prince, your father, and he's 
 sixty-five; so . . ." 
 
 " Oh, Mother Eugenia 1 what does she know about it ?" 
 Katya spoke with lofty contempt. " Why, a fine fellow like 
 you ought to be looking out for another wife ! That's what 
 T would do !" 
 
 The old man shook with laughter. The jest was as extrava- 
 gant as the flattery. A likely thing, to get rid of Mother 
 Eugenia, who led him such a life as to make him a laughing- 
 stock among his fellows. They, at least, had retained their 
 lawful marital right of beating their wives as often as they 
 pleased, while in Alek's case the position was reversed. 
 
 " Oh, little Father in Heaven," he spluttered, " was there 
 ever such a thought ! Get rid of her ! Oh, listen to the 
 child ! Get rid of Mother Eugenia ! Heaven bless the little 
 dove ! Get rid of . . ." He choked helplessly, and stood 
 gasping for breath. 
 
 " Alek, will you be a dear, and do something for me, if I
 
 YOUNG PEOPLE AT PRILUKA 5 
 
 ask you nicely ?" She came a step nearer, and whispered 
 insinuatingly: " Give me a bottle o{ kyas from the well." 
 
 The old man was sobered in a moment. He stared horror- 
 stricken at the girl as she stood there, straight and slender in 
 her thin white dress, with a heavy plait of thick brown hair 
 flung forward over one shoulder. 
 
 " Are you quite mad, Barishna ? Think of Tatiana Feo- 
 dorovna. . . ." 
 
 Katya laid a soft white arm about his brown and wrinkled 
 neck; her hair brushed against his dirty old blue shirt. 
 
 " Alek, won't you, when I ask you to ? . . ." 
 
 " But she'll beat me, Barishna she'll beat me !" 
 
 " Who ? Tanya ? Huh 1 I'll see to that !" 
 
 "No, but Mother Eugenia, Barishna; she is a devil, and 
 Tatiana will tell her." 
 
 " Nonsense, Alek ! You're not afraid of an ugly old woman 
 a fine strong fellow like you ! Pull up the basket, Alek. 
 I only want to see what's in it." 
 
 Sadly conscience-stricken, Alexei proceeded to haul up the 
 basket from the cool depth below. 
 
 " That's right. Good old Alek ! Now let's see what there 
 is for lunch to-day. Vodka that's father's; we won't touch 
 that nasty stuff ! and two bottles of kvas two ! Alek, 
 that's not raspberry ?" 
 
 Poor Alek was growing more and more uncomfortable. 
 Visions of a wrathful Tatiana rose before him, giving place 
 only to the yet more potent fury of Mother Eugenia. 
 
 Katya was holding the bottles up to the light, apparently 
 scrutinizing their contents* Suddenly, before Alexei had 
 time to really grasp what was happening, she was gone, off 
 and away with her booty, flying like a white deer across the 
 lawn. 
 
 " Ekaterina Sergeievna ! Barishna ! Little lamb, little 
 dove . . . little devil !" Alek stumbled despairingly after 
 her, calling at first in entreaty, then angrily, and at last half 
 crying with fear. But the girl was already far beyond pur- 
 suit. 
 
 On reaching the wing of the house where her own and her 
 sister's rooms were situated, Katya resumed her expression of 
 untroubled innocence, and proceeded to collect all the glasses 
 she could find among Sonya's and her own effects. Then,
 
 6 KATYA 
 
 hastily tying on an apron, she bundled the whole into it, and 
 made for a certain shady spot in the park. On the way she 
 caught sight of her father going in to get ready for lunch, and 
 hid herself until he had passed. Then, when everything was 
 ready, she called to the others Sonya, Sasha, and his friends 
 to " come along quickly, now at once !" 
 
 They made their appearance more or less promptly Sonya, 
 who had been walking with Peotr Konstantinovitch Orloff 
 under the big old oaks in the avenue ; Sasha, who had been 
 lying in a hammock with a volume of poems ; Vladimir Alex- 
 androvitch Shipagin in a dazzling summer suit of rough silk, 
 the remarkable qualities of which he was expounding to 
 Nikolai Karatayef, who did not seem to be paying much 
 attention. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked Sonya. 
 
 "I've got some kvas lovely cold raspberry kvas just 
 fished up out of the well. Have some ?" 
 
 " O Lord ! is that all ?" said Sasha. " You might as well 
 have waited till lunch." 
 
 Shipagin didn't want any. " Not just now, thanks. Bad 
 thing between meals, y'know. . . ." Petya Orloff and Kara- 
 tayef didn't want any, either. 
 
 Katya's face hardened. She tossed her head impatiently, 
 flinging her hair back over her shoulder. 
 
 " Oh, very well ; just as you like. I shan't take the trouble 
 another time." 
 
 " Where did you get it ?" asked Sonya, beginning to under- 
 stand. But Orloff and Karatayef had already changed their 
 minds, and held out their glasses, anxious to propitiate. 
 Looked at in that light, of course, it was quite different : 
 kvas was the one thing they most of all desired at that 
 moment. 
 
 Sonya repeated her question. But Katya was intently 
 occupied in learning to drink after the fashion in vogue 
 among cadets when they have combined to smuggle a bottle 
 of champagne into their quarters. Petya Orloff was demon- 
 strating the method. " Glass at arm's length above the mouth, 
 head back farther still; that's right and then pour in a 
 straight stream. Mustn't spill a drop." Naturally, Petya 
 had to help her to get her head at the right angle, and Katya 
 did not seem to mind. Karatayef was racking his brains to
 
 YOUNG PEOPLE AT PRILUKA 7 
 
 try and find some custom prevalent among the students of 
 the Oriental Academy which he could make an excuse for 
 taking a similar liberty. Sonya declined to try, and Sasha 
 was evidently highly displeased at what was going on. 
 
 " Better give it up, Ekaterina Sergeievna," said Shipagin 
 in his lazy drawl. " Spoil your dress, y'know." 
 
 " Vladimir, you ass /" exclaimed Sasha. " If you hadn't 
 said anything she'd have stopped by herself. Now she'll 
 keep on till it's too late, just to show that she dares." 
 
 " Keep your remarks to yourself !" snapped out Katya, 
 with a furious glance at her brother. Then, turning to 
 Karatayef, who had not taken his eyes off her all the time, 
 " You try, Nikolai Nikolaievitch," she said, with an en- 
 couraging smile. 
 
 " No, don't," said Sonya, lifting her eyes for a moment to 
 glance at Karatayef. The boy stood irresolute, not knowing 
 which side to take. Before he could decide, Katya had filled 
 a glass to the brim, and was saying to Orloff : " Show me 
 properly, Petya. You can do it." 
 
 Petya Orloff took the glass and flung back his head. Kara- 
 tayef's eyes met Katya's . . . she did not so much as look 
 at Orloff. 
 
 " I dare say it's easy enough," began Karatayef hesitatingly. 
 
 The luncheon-bell interrupted him. Dimitri was standing 
 on the steps of the terrace ringing as though to call up the 
 whole of the district. 
 
 As soon as the whole party was assembled in the dining- 
 room, and all standing at their respective places, the Prince 
 with his wife and daughters turned towards the corner where 
 the eikons hung, and made a genuflection, crossing them- 
 selves as they bowed, the young men going through the same 
 movements, but with somewhat less solemnity of manner. 
 Then followed a scraping of chairs and rattle of plates as they 
 took their seats. 
 
 Dimitri and the maid Ustia waited at table. Tatiana 
 Feodorovna moved silently about the room; her watchful 
 eyes were everywhere. Katya saw at a glance that she knew 
 what had happened, and was deeply offended. 
 
 " Now she's going to play the martyr again," said Katya 
 to herself. Tatiana Feodorovna was eternally trying to per- 
 suade the whole household, and the Princess in particular,
 
 8 KATYA 
 
 that she herself was shamefully wronged. If one of the maids 
 happened to break a plate, or the quince preserve turned out 
 badly; if Alexei forgot to shut up the turkeys for the night, 
 or her beloved parrot Petrushka took leave to disappear on 
 errands of his own, such happenings were all but demonstra- 
 tions of the cruel and unjust fate which incessantly persecuted 
 her. Her little withered figure seemed to further shrink into 
 itself, and her yellow, wrinkled old face expressed sorrow and 
 bitter indignation at the wickedness of the world. 
 
 Katya had nodded pleasantly to her when she came in, as 
 though nothing were the matter ; but the expression of suffer- 
 ing patience only deepened. There was trouble brewing. 
 
 Prince Sergei led the conversation, as was his custom. 
 Even the most commonplace observations seemed somehow 
 to become weighty on his lips. He affected a certain elegant 
 solemnity of diction. 
 
 " The navy, my dear Petya," he began, directly addressing 
 young Orloff the cadet, but with an air which unmistakably 
 indicated that the whole table would be well advised to listen 
 to his words " the navy, my young friend, is called upon to 
 play a great part in the history of our country. This was 
 also the opinion of your distinguished father. Konstantin 
 Mikailovitch was frequently heard to regret that too little 
 was done for the navy. I am not disinclined to adhere to 
 that view." 
 
 " Tanya," said the Princess quietly, " you have forgotten 
 the kvas, I think." Sonya glanced at Katya, whose cheeks 
 flushed suddenly red. Only for a moment, however; next 
 second she was herself again. Now it was coming. Well, 
 she was ready ! 
 
 " I have no cold kvas to-day, Barina. It has been stolen !" 
 The last words were uttered in a tone which expressed the 
 abysmal depth of this unutterable disaster. 
 
 " Stolen !" Prince Sergei could not believe his ears. 
 " You are surely mistaken, Tatiana. Stolen ! And by 
 whom, may I ask ?" 
 
 " I took it," said Katya boldly. 
 
 A strange hush had fallen upon the whole party. At last 
 Petya, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out laugh- 
 ing. Sasha followed suit. The Princess looked from one to 
 the other, at a loss to understand what it all meant.
 
 YOUNG PEOPLE AT PRILUKA 9 
 
 " Ahem !" The Prince turned coldly to his eldest daughter. 
 " You will perhaps be kind enough to explain. . . ." 
 
 " It's quite simple," said Katya. " I asked Tanya very 
 politely to give me a glass of kvas, because I was thirsty. 
 Of course, she wouldn't; so I just went round to Alexei and 
 got all I wanted. And Alek, being only a man ... it was 
 quite easy, papa, I assure you." 
 
 The young men laughed anew, but Sonya was frowning. 
 " Katya, how can you ? . . ." murmured the Princess, trying 
 hard to hide a smile. 
 
 " Allow me to say that Katya shared with us all," broke 
 in Petya Orloff hastily ; and for the second time that day Niki 
 Karatayef found himself envying his companion. 
 
 ' ' A most irregular proceeding most irregular. ' ' The Prince 
 was evidently annoyed. " Indeed, I scarcely know how pre- 
 cisely one should deal with an affair of such nature. And 
 your remarks, Katya, on the subject of men er, most un- 
 called for." 
 
 " My dear, the servants," interposed the Princess in French. 
 But the Prince disliked being called to order, and resented 
 any encroachment upon his authority as head of the house. 
 And this child, who was continually and obstinately insub- 
 ordinate it was necessary to act with firmness and decision. 
 
 " I presume," he said, addressing Katya in French, as a 
 slight concession to his wife, " that you have finished your 
 lunch. You will perhaps have the goodness to go to your 
 room, and remain there for the present." 
 
 " Sergei, mon ami." The Princess sent an appealing glance 
 towards her husband. But Katya had already risen. Pale, 
 and with close-shut lips, she left the room, moving with a 
 proud and high-strung steely grace that was all her own. 
 As the door closed behind her she heard Petya's voice: 
 
 " Then we ought all to be sent to our rooms, Uncle Sergei." 
 
 Sasha voiced the same opinion, but Karatayef said no 
 word. 
 
 The Prince resumed his former topic, and spoke of the 
 navy, but his eloquence was halting and his manner absent. 
 Orloff, on his right, answered in monosyllables; Sasha, on 
 the left, had all but turned his back upon his father. The 
 hectic spots flushed fiercely on his cheeks as he expounded 
 at length and with unnecessary vehemence the contents of a
 
 io KATYA 
 
 poem he had read, addressing himself exclusively to his 
 mother. Prince Sergei could not but realize that the general 
 feeling was hostile to himself, 
 
 Tatiana Feodorovna was in like case. No one even vouch- 
 safed her a glance. Ustia, the maid, even went so far as to 
 make a face at her, and Dimitri took an opportunity of 
 treading with evident malice on her foot, Once more she felt 
 herself a victim of a harsh and implacable fate. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO PETRUSHKA 
 
 ON the way to her place of confinement Katya was suddenly 
 seized with a bright idea, which made her laugh aloud in the 
 empty rooms. 
 
 Swiftly and lightly she ran down the garden path over to 
 the left wing of the house, where the servants' quarters were, 
 and where Tatiana Feodorovna had a pretty little room, 
 entirely lined with carpets and hangings of native make, and 
 filled with figures of saints and portraits of the Prince, the 
 Princess, and their three children at various stages of their 
 lives. Katya slipped noiselessly into the room, and made 
 straight for the big brass cage where Petrushka was con- 
 fined while his mistress was busy about the house. Petrushka 
 was Tatiana Feodorovna's parrot, a present from Sasha, who 
 had given her the bird when he went away to study at the 
 Academy. Katya took the bird from his perch, closed the 
 cage carefully after her, and hurried off with the captive 
 tightly clasped to her breast. The next thing was to reach 
 her father's dressing-room in the opposite wing, not far from 
 the little suite set apart for Sonya and herself. There were 
 many bottles and jars to be opened and sniffed at, many 
 drawers and small cupboards to be opened, ere she found 
 what she was seeking. 
 
 A moment later she stood in her own room, hot and breath- 
 less, but encouraged by sweet thoughts of vengeance. She 
 drew down the blind, and locked the door. 
 
 " Aha, Petrushka, it's our turn now !" 
 
 She rolled up her sleeves, tied the parrot by one leg to the
 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO PETRUSHKA n 
 
 back of a chair, routed out an old nail-brush, and sat herself 
 down astride the seat with the air of an artist at his easel. 
 
 Petrushka was a beautiful bird, with bright green plumage, 
 and splashes of red on the wings. Carefully and with many 
 caresses Katya proceeded to blacken him all over, coating 
 him from head to foot with the Prince's French hair-dye, 
 which, according to the label, was guaranteed absolutely 
 permanent. 
 
 It was a long business much longer than she had imagined. 
 The first coat only sufficed to thinly veil the brilliant emerald 
 of Petrushka's feathers. And the stupid bird would not 
 keep still, but wriggled and shifted continually, protesting 
 with particular vehemence when it became necessary to turn 
 him over on his back, and most undutifully resisting the 
 somewhat ungentle efforts of the girl to pull out his wings 
 and paint him underneath. He chattered ceaselessly all the 
 while, cocking his head awkwardly on one side, and growing 
 more and more astonished as the bright feathers became 
 blacker and blacker. 
 
 Katya was beginning to wish she had never begun. She 
 never cared to spend much time on the carrying out of any 
 plan; and, besides, it was so messy. . . . She could not 
 imagine how her father could use such nasty stuff for his hair, 
 when anyone could see it was dyed. . . . He would be furious 
 when he found that the bottle was gone. And suppose it was 
 the only one he had ! It would take a fortnight at least 
 three weeks to get a fresh supply from Paris, and he would 
 never buy things like that in Kief, Moscow or St. Petersburg. 
 And then he would get greyer and greyer every day, just as 
 Petrushka was now getting blacker and blacker, and Sasha's 
 friends would see it. 
 
 " I don't care ! Serve him right !" said Katya to herself, 
 busily blackening the down on Petrushka's breast. " To 
 treat me like that, before them all ! As if one were a school- 
 girl ! And I'm nearly seventeen, and he knows it. If it had 
 been Sonya, he'd never have dared, and she's over a year 
 younger than I am. It's always me. . . ." 
 
 Katya was feeling very sorry for herself. She seldom cried. 
 At the Empress's Convent School in Kief, where she had been 
 from the time she was twelve until she was fifteen, Elena 
 Dolgoruki had onoe told her that she looked " simply ugly "
 
 12 KATYA 
 
 when she cried, while tears " suited Sonya splendidly." Elena 
 need not talk, for she always looked like a kitchen-maid, with 
 her coarse red cheeks; but as a matter of fact Katya had 
 once, after a violent scene with a young French master at the 
 school, looked in the glass and convinced herself that there 
 was something in what Elena had said. . . . And it was 
 right about Sonya, too; so Katya never cried if she could 
 possibly help it. And yet, sitting there alone with Petrushka, 
 and remembering how cruelly she had been treated, she felt 
 her eyes beginning to fill with tears. 
 
 The brush moved with firm, regular strokes over Petrushka's 
 head, marking time, as it were, and the parrot marvelled, 
 wondering if this were some new and unaccustomed form of 
 caress, or what it otherwise might signify. 
 
 Katya's thoughts were wandering. 
 
 " Perhaps Elena was right about Sasha . . . ' always ill 
 and always dull,' she used to say. He reads too much. Books 
 and books and books, even when his friends are here. But 
 one can trust him. Sasha's a gentleman; I don't care what 
 they say. When Petya took my part to-day, Sasha backed 
 him up at once; and I know he didn't think it nice of me to 
 take the silly stuff, or let Petya show me like he did. Petya ! 
 I love Petya. When he was a boy, and his father and mother 
 stayed with us in Odessa, I didn't like him. He used to pinch 
 me, and pull my hair till I cried. He never did that to Sonya, 
 and now he can't keep away from her. Or Niki either. . . . 
 Always following her about, both of them. . . . But nobody 
 cares a little bit about me nobody !" 
 
 Katya ceased painting for a moment, and Petrushka took 
 advantage of the pause to shake himself and flap his wings. 
 
 Next minute the brush was once more at work, absently 
 following Katya's busy brain : 
 
 " They say he's clever, Niki Karatayef. Sasha thinks he'll 
 do great things in the diplomatic service. I don't believe 
 it. There's no getting anything out of him ; he never knows 
 what to do with himself; and he didn't stick up for me to-day. 
 Would not say a word for me. I'll never forgive him for that. 
 Ugh ! coward ! I hate him !" 
 
 The blackened bird had grown a misty grey. Katya's 
 eyes were dimming fast. 
 
 " I shall have to drown myself, that's all, or run away
 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO PETRUSHKA 13 
 
 ever so far away and then they'll be happy. I'll take Petya 
 with me. Sasha wouldn't do it, but Petya ... He asked 
 me to himself once, in Odessa, when we were little. There 
 was a Turkish ship, and he said the Captain was a friend of 
 his. But suppose Petya won't come either. . . ." 
 
 It was no good ; the tears would come. Katya surrendered 
 to the welling flood, letting her head fall hopelessly upon her 
 bared arm. Petrushka, the transformed, sat perched upon 
 a chair-back and flapped his wings despairingly, a stranger 
 to himself. 
 
 All this while Priluka had been in the throes of domestic 
 strife, and was now a house divided against itself. 
 
 The only one as yet unaffected by this internal dissension 
 was Prince Sergei himself. After lunch he had retired, as 
 usual, to his smoking-room and private office to read the 
 Novoye Vremya, the Moskovskya Viadomosti, and Le Temps. 
 The post arrived at Priluka about luncheon-time, brought by 
 a messenger on horseback from Dubni, a little town some ten 
 versts distant on the narrow-gauge railway that runs from 
 the Government town of Tshernigof to Koronevo, where it 
 joins the Kief-Odessa line. Prince Rilinski was a man of 
 regular habits, and objected to being disturbed when busy 
 with his letters or taking his afternoon doze ; and to-day, fore- 
 seeing the possibility of an attempt on the part of his wife, 
 or perhaps Sasha and Sonya, to intercede for the culprit, 
 he took the precaution to send Dimitri with a French note 
 to the Princess: 
 
 " Katya will remain under arrest for two hours, when I will 
 myself release her." 
 
 Then, well pleased with his own severity, thus duly tem- 
 pered with parental lenience, he buried himself in his papers, 
 and dozed off. 
 
 The Princess read the little note, and passed it on to Sonya 
 with a sigh. At the same moment Tatiana Feodorovna 
 appeared in the doorway, a picture of injured virtue. 
 
 " Petrushka ^s gone; the cage is empty !" 
 
 Princess Rilinski was a little weary of Tanya's everlasting 
 troubles, and by no means pleased with the way in which she 
 had behaved at lunch. Anastasia Gregorievna bore patiently
 
 14 KATYA 
 
 the many trials which illness and household worries had laid 
 upon her. She was of those who put their faith in the power 
 of affection, and lavished hers unsparingly on those about her. 
 Not with any demonstrative assertion, however, but quietly, 
 continually, always ready to forgive and understand, silent 
 about her own sorrows, and quick to catch the lightest breath 
 of plaint from others. Her children worshipped her; not a 
 soul on all the broad estate but loved her. She herself could 
 never understand what she had done to deserve it. 
 
 Tatiana, who had been in her service for many years, soon 
 perceived the shadow of impatience in the Princess's tone as 
 she answered : 
 
 " But surely, Tanya, you ought to be able to look after the 
 bird yourself !" 
 
 And Tanya felt that blows, even such as her late husband 
 had been wont to deal, would have been less painful to bear 
 than this slight coolness in her mistress's words. 
 
 Tanya began to weep. All these disasters were too much 
 for her ageing soul. Nobody could look after Petrushka 
 better than she did. The poor harmless bird was a present 
 from her beloved Sasha Sasha, who was as dear to her as 
 her own little child that had been taken from her, and would 
 never come back again and now Petrushka, too, was gone. . . . 
 
 The Princess's momentary impatience had already passed. 
 She managed to make Tanya tell her story with some degree 
 of coherence. The bird had been shut up before lunch, and 
 the cage locked ; after lunch, the cage was found as locked as 
 ever, but Petrushka was nowhere to be seen. Dire suspicion 
 rested upon Dimitri and Ustia the maid, who had behaved 
 disgracefully during the meal; or possibly Stefan, the old 
 cook. He had always hated the parrot, and was in some 
 way or other afraid of the innocent bird. Or it might have 
 been one of the kitchen-maids, or perhaps, Tanya whispered 
 brokenly through her sobs, the Evil One himself. . . . 
 
 There was no help for it. The Princess and Sonya betook 
 themselves to the scene of the disaster. A searching inquiry 
 was held. All, however, protested their innocence. It 
 seemed scarcely likely, under the circumstances, that Pe- 
 trushka should have slipped out himself, as he had done 
 before, for a breath of broader freedom in the park; neverthe- 
 less, a party was despatched to make diligent search for the
 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO PETRUSHKA 15 
 
 truant. Objurgations were rife, both as to Tatiana Feodo- 
 rovna and the entirely innocent Petrushka. 
 
 Tanya sat in her room beside the empty cage, the tears 
 flowing brokenly over her wrinkled yellow cheeks. 
 
 Meanwhile, the four young men had been holding council 
 in " the Club " a roomy summer-house, furnished with com- 
 fortable chairs, and which Sasha and his friends had grown 
 to consider as their own particular retreat. 
 
 Petya Orloff suggested that they should all go up together 
 to Katya's room, and request permission to keep her com- 
 pany. Sasha did not consider this advisable not out of 
 any fear of his father's anger, but because he had an instinc- 
 tive feeling that the Princess would disapprove of any such 
 demonstration ; Sonya possibly also. Niki Karatayef specu- 
 lated long without finding any plan which seemed at all 
 feasible. He thought for a moment of their going in a body 
 to carry off the prisoner, but gave it up, partly because it 
 seemed rather a ridiculous thing to do, and also because he 
 did not care to be fourth man in an enterprise of the sort. 
 Shipagin's contribution to the general fund of ideas was 
 brief : 
 
 " One of you ride in to Dubni and get her a box of choco- 
 lates from us all. She'll be all right then." 
 
 Sasha gave him one glance, and thereafter ignored his 
 existence. Karatayef thought of duels. . . . Orloff ex- 
 pressed himself with laconic emphasis: " Idiot I" 
 
 " As you like," returned Shipagin unperturbed, and lit 
 another cigarette. 
 
 Of course, one could send her some flowers, or books, or 
 serenade her with a song, or simply move the chairs up out- 
 side her window, and entertain her as best they could. And 
 playing ball from a window was rather fun. . . . Suddenly 
 Petya broke in eagerly : 
 
 " I know ! I'll just climb up the veranda and ask her 
 what she would like." 
 
 " Petya, you're a trump !" Sasha grasped his hand. 
 
 A moment later they all stood beneath the window of 
 Katya's prison. Orloff flung off his white drill jacket, and 
 swung himself like a squirrel up one of the wooden pillars 
 which supported the balcony outside the two girls' rooms.
 
 16 KATYA 
 
 " Left I" shouted Sasha from below. " There, where the 
 blind's down." 
 
 Orloff rapped with his knuckles on the glass. The upper 
 windows were open. 
 
 " Katya, it's me, Petya, and all of us. We've come to 
 cheer you up !" 
 
 Katya peeped out from behind the curtain. He could see 
 she had been crying. Orloff felt his heart swelling. At that 
 moment he would have given anything for the right and 
 power to comfort her. 
 
 " Oh, damn it, Katya, don't cry ! . . ." It wasn't in the 
 least what he had meant to say, but it was out before he 
 could think. 
 
 The blind fell back into place. Katya had suddenly 
 remembered that crying didn't suit her. 
 
 Petrushka flapped his wings, struggling to get free. 
 
 After a minute or so the blind went up half-way, and Katya 
 appeared a new Katya her smiling face alight with mis- 
 chievous merriment, holding out bare arms and blackened 
 hands towards the boy. 
 
 " Petya, I've taken Tanya's parrot and blacked him all over 
 with papa's hair-dye. It was a frightful job. I'll give him 
 to you in a piece of paper, and if you care the least little bit 
 for me you'll put him back in his cage again without anyone 
 knowing. Promise, Petya solemn oath !" 
 
 And Petya swore, adding a little private expletive of admira- 
 tion on his own account. 
 
 A moment later he had taken over the charge of the in- 
 creasingly bewildered bird, wrapped up in a fragment of a 
 French fashion paper, and was sliding down to rejoin the con- 
 spirators below. 
 
 The blind was lowered again. 
 
 Shipagin had by this time lost all interest in the affair, 
 and had gone off by himself. Petya related the story of 
 Petrushka's transfiguration to the two others, garnishing his 
 tale with yet more oaths, admiring and emphatic. 
 
 While this was going on, the search-party came in sight a 
 band of girls and men, led by Ustia and Dimitri, on whom 
 suspicion chiefly rested. They moved across towards the 
 right wing of the house, parting the bushes, shaking the trees, 
 and calling Petrushka by name. Sasha took in the situa-
 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO PETRUSHKA 17 
 
 tion at a glance, and acted with swift strategic insight. 
 Karatayef was deputed to " discover " the parrot high up in 
 some inaccessible tree-top, and hold the party in check, on 
 no account allowing them to leave the spot. 
 
 " You understand, Niki. You see the beast up in a tree, 
 and make the others see it. We'll do the rest." 
 
 Karatayef had selected a tree just outside Katya's window, 
 and sent up a triumphant shout, " There he is 1" followed by 
 much craning of necks and whispering query, " Where, 
 where ?" And Niki, seeing Katya's blind still further raised, 
 was inspired to flights of high invention. " There, he's 
 moved to the left; now he's hopped over on to that little 
 thin branch. Get a ladder someone. No, let one of the boys 
 climb up. . . ." 
 
 Meanwhile Sasha, having concealed Petya in a place of 
 vantage conveniently adjacent to Tatiana Feodorovna's 
 window, began shouting at the top of his voice : 
 
 " Tanya, open the window 1 Tanya !" 
 
 Soon the old woman's grey and bitter face appeared. 
 
 " What is it now ?" 
 
 " Come down quickly ; we've got him ; we know where he is." 
 
 Tatiana Feodorovna hurried as fast as her aged legs could 
 carry her, and followed Sasha to the high tree outside 
 Katya's window. He, too, could see the bird distinctly, far 
 up among the topmost foliage. 
 
 By this time, however, Petrushka was once more back in 
 his cage, and after some much-needed refreshment, proceeded 
 to take what served him for a bath. He did not know what 
 to make of it. The colour, smell, and taste of his once gor- 
 geous, cleanly self had changed. It was altogether a most 
 unsatisfactory adventure. 
 
 Strangely enough, both Sasha and Karatayef lost sight of 
 the bird as soon as they were joined by Orloff, and after a 
 short time, the others being in like case, the band moved off 
 to pursue the search elsewhere. 
 
 Katya's blind went down again. 
 
 Prince Sergei wakened, rested and refreshed, and took his 
 way to Katya the confined. He knew now exactly how he 
 would deal with the affair treat it as a trifle, the whole 
 thing, with some slight pleasantry to banish possible tears.
 
 18 KATYA 
 
 Already he saw himself pinching the girl's little pink ear, as 
 she nestled close to him, affectionately repentant, whispering 
 a scarcely audible: "I'm sorry, papa." A charming child, 
 but difficult, extremely difficult, at times. 
 
 He knocked at the door. "Is anyone at home ?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Katya, my child, it is I it's papa." 
 
 No answer. 
 
 He turned the handle. The door was locked. 
 
 " Open the door, Katya, dear. We'll say no more about 
 that little affair." 
 
 No answer. 
 
 Prince Sergei was beginning to feel uneasy. The child 
 could never have . . . No, no; impossible! And yet there 
 was no knowing what girls of Katya's age, and with her tem- 
 perament, might do. He glanced up and down the passage. 
 There was no one in sight. He knelt down, and endeavoured 
 to look through the keyhole, but in vain; the key was in the 
 lock. Prince Rilinski felt somewhat ashamed of himself. 
 
 " Katya, will you open that door at once ?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 This was growing positively painful. A nervous anxiety 
 seized him. He noticed that his hands trembled. 
 
 " Katya, for Heaven's sake let me in 1 It's I, your father !" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 What was to be done ? Call the others ? Force the door ? 
 If she were only trying to irritate him, such an action would 
 make him look ridiculous; and if ... He shuddered at the 
 thought of what might meet his eyes. Anastasia Grego- 
 rievna would never get over it; her favourite child. . . . 
 And it would be all his fault for having acted with undue 
 severity. . . . 
 
 " Katya, my darling ehild, let me in !" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 It was too horrible. If she really had heard, she could not 
 have continued to humble him so ; she could not have let him 
 suffer this agony of fear. 
 
 " Katya, my child !" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 Prince Rilinski groped his way along the passage, leaning 
 to the wall with one hand for support.
 
 19 
 
 Inside the room Katya had been washing and scrubbing her 
 hands with pumice-stone and toilet vinegar until the last 
 traces of the dye had disappeared. She had heard her father 
 come, and taken in every word that he had said. 
 
 And now she stood there flushed with sweetest triumph. 
 
 Stefan the cook found nothing remarkable in the fact that 
 Petrushka, making light of bolt and bar, had vanished and 
 returned again transformed. He had always maintained that 
 the bird was on familiar terms with the Evil One. Wherefore 
 he also refused to go in and see the prodigal; there was no 
 knowing what witchcraft such changelings might wreak on 
 innocent humanity. His fellow-servants, however, were not so 
 squeamish; maids and men made pilgrimage to Tanya's room, 
 and stood at gaze before the bars of polished brass,behind which 
 black Petrushka hopped ceaselessly about, as though seeking 
 for his lost self. All that remained to him of former glory 
 was the bright red ring about each eye. It was not a pretty 
 sight, and no one stayed very long ; after all, there might be 
 something in what old Stefan said. It was as well to be careful. 
 
 Even Tatiana Feodorovna herself felt somewhat ill at ease. 
 It was Petrushka and not Petrushka. He talked as he had 
 done before, but never before had he looked at her with such 
 a ghastly malevolent eye, as though he sought to cast some 
 spell upon her; and no one could imagine how he managed 
 thus to disappear and come again in quite another guise. 
 The Princess had simply said, " Boy's pranks!" nothing more; 
 but Tanya had noticed that she also looked somewhat mysti- 
 fied. Sonya had laughed excitedly, which was not like Sonya 
 at all. Moreover, this was no laughing matter; for one 
 thing at least was certain merciless Fate had once more 
 seen fit to persecute a poor old woman who had done nothing 
 wrong. A vague, disquieting feeling of estrangement had 
 sprung up between herself and the bird. She could not even 
 be quite sure how far that gloomy thing behind the bars was 
 the Petrushka she had known. In vain she asked, endear- 
 ingly, beseechingly the creature only blinked at her and 
 looked its swarthy plumage up and down, as if itself in doubt. 
 
 Prince Rilinski found his wife and his youngest daughter 
 sewing on the veranda, and with more than usual solemnity 
 requested Sonya to retire.
 
 20 KATYA 
 
 " Sergei !" The Princess looked up anxiously. " What- 
 ever is the matter ?" 
 
 " My dear, I fear I must prepare you ..." It was impossible 
 to continue; he could not tell her what he scarcely dared to 
 fear. He broke off, and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 " Sergei, dear, is it the bank in Odessa ?" 
 
 He shook his head, and gasped out faintly, " Katya . . ." 
 
 " Oh God 1 What has she done ?" 
 
 Breathlessly, her heart at furious beat, Anastasia Gregori- 
 evna dashed up the stairs and through hall and passage to 
 her daughter's room. 
 
 " Katya !" she called, ere she had reached the door. 
 
 " Oui, maman 1" 
 
 A moment later Katya was in her arms, and somewhat at a 
 loss to understand her mother's emotion. 
 
 Prince Sergei had followed his wife upstairs, trembling all 
 over as he went. At the sound of Katya's voice he pressed 
 both hands to his side and leaned against the wall; all his 
 strength seemed to have left him. 
 
 The door stood open ; he could hear them talking. . . . 
 
 " And your poor father, Katya he thought ..." 
 
 " I must be allowed myself to decide when and how I am 
 to leave the room. I am nearly seventeen, and I will not 
 submit to be treated as papa did to-day." 
 
 " My child, you are too obstinate." 
 
 " I, mother ? Oh !" and with tears in her eyes she flung 
 herself anew into her mother's arms and stroked and patted her 
 caressingly. " Oh, if you only knew how I can love, mother !" 
 
 But a moment later she burst out merrily : 
 
 " It serves him right, you know. He should have listened 
 to what I said. It is so easy to fool a man 1" 
 
 Prince Sergei stole quietly away. He wished to be alone. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 
 
 THE young men were holding a meeting in the Club. The 
 Princess had announced that Elena Dolgoruki's and Elisaveta 
 Miliukin's parents had accepted the invitation which had
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 21 
 
 been sent to their daughters, and the two young ladies were 
 to arrive in a few days' time. 
 
 The news made a considerable impression at Priluka, in 
 particular among the members of the Club. The arrival of 
 girl visitors would put an end to the pleasant holiday famili- 
 arity of their little, circle. Shipagin was the only one who 
 appeared pleased at the approaching change; his young 
 friends at Priluka lacked, to his mind, the due and proper 
 appreciation of his own elegance in dress and person. The 
 Prince, of course, was a connoisseur in such matters, but 
 neither Katya nor her sister ever seemed to even notice the 
 remarkable refinement of taste which he displayed, and such 
 observations as his companions ever made upon the subject 
 were rather calculated to wound his feelings. Shipagin was 
 therefore disposed to welcome any addition to the house-party 
 as at present constituted. In his opinion, the nobility of 
 Russia was going to the dogs. 
 
 Petya Orloff was not pleased. 
 
 " What on earth did your people want to do that for ?" 
 he said to Sasha. " They might just as well have asked my 
 sister over from Turkestan. She's not a beauty, I know, and 
 she's not much fun anyway, but at least it'd be someone 
 we know. What the devil do you suppose we're to do with 
 these two female creatures ?" 
 
 Karatayef took an equally gloomy view. He was not as 
 old a friend of the house as Petya, who had known the Rilinskis 
 from his childhood ; this was only his second visit to Priluka. 
 Prince Rilinski's acquaintance with General Karatayef dated 
 from the time when the former, on retirement from his post 
 as Chief Inspector of the Convent Schools under Her Imperial 
 Majesty's protection, had gone in for building speculations in 
 Odessa. The Prince's close business relations with the old 
 General had gradually led to a warm friendship between the 
 two boys. Alexander Rilinski and Nikolai Karatayef shared 
 rooms in Moscow, where they studied together; both were 
 intended for the diplomatic service, and both showed, accord- 
 ing to the testimony of their tutors and companions, promise 
 of a distinguished career. 
 
 It was not only for Sasha's sake, however, that Nikolai 
 Karatayef loved Priluka. All through that winter in Odessa, 
 after his mother's death, Princess Rilinski had treated him
 
 22 KATYA 
 
 as her own son, and this he never forgot. The two girls were 
 at school in Kief at the time, and he saw but little of them. 
 During the previous summer, however, he had spent the greater 
 part of two months with them at Priluka, and since that time 
 scarce a day had passed but he had thought of them with 
 affection, even longing. An only child, he had until a year 
 ago known no women in his life save his own mother and 
 Princess Rilinski, with an old aunt, some few girl students 
 awkward and eccentric creatures of advanced views and 
 one or two ladies of doubtful respectability in Moscow. His 
 own home was not a happy one. After his retirement from 
 the army, General Karatayef had given himself up entirely 
 to banking and the Bourse. Nikolai Nikolaievitch heard 
 everywhere that his father was one of the richest men in Odessa, 
 but since the death of his wife the old man had led a retired 
 existence, reducing even the necessaries of life to a minimum. 
 It was against this background of cheerless monotony that 
 young Karatayef saw Priluka, and it seemed to him a palace 
 of dreams. In his eyes all the poetry and loveliness of all 
 Ukraine were concentrated upon this one spot, where the power 
 and splendour of womanhood had first been revealed to him. 
 His feelings for Katya and Sonya, however, filled him with 
 a strange unrest. When neither was present, the two girls' 
 pictures melted into one for him. In a way, it was most 
 often Katya whom he saw but Katya with Sonya's voice and 
 Sonya's eyes. It was all horribly mixed up somehow. He 
 liked best to talk to Sonya of his studies, his plans and hopes 
 for the future, and of the gloomy recollections of his child- 
 hood; but it was Katya he wanted to answer him Katya 
 who should praise his work, and promise him a splendid 
 future, driving away all dreary humours with her bright, 
 mischievous merriment. He liked to row and ride with Katya ; 
 it was Katya's admiration that he courted whenever he did 
 any clever, or, in particular, any daring thing. But it must be 
 quite understood that as soon as they were back again at home, 
 and sport and break-neck feats over for the day, then Katya 
 must change to Sonya, sitting quietly sewing at her mother's 
 side or reading aloud with her clear soft voice, or playing and 
 singing the old songs of the Cossack lover taking leave of his 
 beloved ere he rides away. For Katya he would fight against 
 all who were stronger than himself, and win his way to honour,
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 23 
 
 fame, and wealth ; but it should be Sonya who made rest for 
 him when he returned from wild and fearsome adventure, 
 and had laid the booty won at Katya's feet. 
 
 Here at Priluka, in the sunlit, sane reality of summer, it 
 was easier to keep the two identities apart ; his own feelings, 
 however, were still as hopelessly involved. The momentary 
 presence of either was sufficient to convince him that she, 
 and she only, was to be desired, and make it a matter of 
 wonder to himself that ever he should have been in doubt; 
 but the sight of both together wrought upon him strangely, 
 leaving him utterly mazed. He was perfectly aware of his 
 own awkwardness; he knew that his behaviour was at times 
 entirely foolish; he even fancied he could read, now in the eyes 
 of one, now of the other, their scorn of his own craven inde- 
 cision, and yet, not for all the world would he renounce this 
 summer at Priluka. He was twenty-two, and in love pain- 
 fully and confusedly, it is true, yet not less firmly meshed in 
 the magic web and there was all the future before him to 
 deal with riddles. 
 
 And this secret shrine was now to be ruthlessly invaded. 
 It was bad enough to have Shipagin there, but there was no 
 necessity to be polite to him. 
 
 " Who are they, these girls ?" asked Karatayef gloomily. 
 
 " Two of my sisters' schoolfellows from Kief," replied 
 Sasha. " Quite presentable young ladies, of good family." 
 
 " My dear Niki," interposed Shipagin, " before you can 
 hope to render any signal service to your country in the field 
 of diplomacy, you will have to improve your education. A 
 young man of promise ought not to be ignorant of the family 
 history attaching to such names as Dolgoruki and Miliukin." 
 
 " There's any amount of Dolgorukis. Of course I know 
 there's a Miliukin who's ambassador in Paris, but how am I 
 to know if its Elisaveta's father or not ?" 
 
 " Well, he is; so you and Sasha had better be on your best 
 behaviour. He may be made Minister for Foreign Affairs 
 at any moment. From a political point of view, Elena Ivan- 
 ovna is less interesting; but she'll have a million roubles 
 always provided that the Count, her father, remains content 
 with the two children who are the present offspring of his 
 lawful marriage with a Polish music-hall artist. Elena has 
 an elder brother, Gavriil. . . ."
 
 24 KATYA 
 
 " Oh, is it Vera Nadeshda's Dolgoruki ?" 
 
 " Exactly; but there's no fear of Elena Ivanovna's following 
 in her mother's footsteps. Except, perhaps, in Holland, no 
 music-hall would have her." 
 
 " Kindly remember, Vladimir, that the young lady is my 
 parents' guest, and my sisters' friend," said Sasha coldly. 
 
 " Heaven preserve us, my dear fellow ! I'm only explaining 
 the situation. Niki doesn't know." 
 
 " But what on earth do we want to have them for at all ?" 
 asked Petya irritably. " We were having the jolliest time by 
 ourselves now it'll all be spoiled." 
 
 " ' It is not good for man to be alone,' " said Sasha, with 
 his gentle, weary smile. 
 
 "Alone? We've Katya and Sonya. What more do you want?" 
 
 Karatayef breathed a scarcely audible assent. 
 
 " I wasn't thinking of us. I mean it's not good for Katya 
 and Sonya to be alone among the beasts of the field." 
 
 " Or for the beasts of the field to be alone with Katya and 
 Sonya," added Shipagin. " Your mother's a clever woman, 
 Sasha." 
 
 Karatayef flushed uncomfortably. He fancied Sasha had 
 looked over-closely at him. 
 
 Petya Orloff had meanwhile settled the matter in his own 
 mind. " Well, I don't care, anyway," he said. " They can 
 send us twenty schoolgirls, if they like; things'll just go on as 
 Katya w r ants." 
 
 The preparations for the expected visit of the two young 
 ladies set all the household at Priluka in motion. Tatiana 
 Feodorovna took out some beautiful old silver which was 
 only used on special occasions. Dimitri went three times 
 to Dubni to try on a new livery, the Jewish tailor testifying 
 his admiration by repeated ejaculations of " Wunderbar !" 
 which Dimitri took to be the Yiddish word for " waistcoat." 
 Alexei, with Mother Eugenia and a swarm of children of 
 various parentage and origin, were busy weeding, raking, and 
 sweeping all over the park. The post from Dubni brought 
 innumerable parcels, and it was known that Stefan in his 
 kitchen was occupied with new and wondrous culinary ex- 
 periments. 
 
 As a rule the daily round of things at Priluka went on in
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 25 
 
 an old-fashioned, almost patriarchal fashion. The palace, 
 with stables, cottages, and outbuildings, though covering a 
 large extent of ground, seemed to house but one large family. 
 The cold and distinct division into classes which is customary 
 on English estates was unknown at Priluka, as, indeed, 
 everywhere in Russia. The barriers between master and 
 servant, never too sharply denned, were rendered yet more 
 vague by the close contact of daily life. On neither side was 
 there the slightest fear that the familiarity of tone which, 
 in spite of the continual use of more or less high-sounding 
 titles, characterized their relations to each other, could ever 
 lead to any abuse or neglect of responsibility or due respect. 
 The household at Priluka consisted of the Barin and Barina 
 (master and mistress) with various younger beings of like 
 rank, and thereafter all the other living souls on the estate. 
 These latter, however, recognized the distance which separ- 
 ated them from the lords of the soil as well as they knew 
 their prayers, and regarded the established order of things 
 as a Divine ordination, which had existed from time imme- 
 morial, and which it would never have occurred to them to 
 question. There was no slightest tinge of friction in their 
 relations; nothing, indeed, to call attention to the existence 
 of any relation at all. Nearly every evening, when the family 
 were assembled for tea at the close of the day, two or three 
 of the old servants would come in Stefan the cook, and 
 Mikailo the coachman, with the steward, perhaps, or one of 
 the foresters; there were orders to be given, or happenings 
 to report. They would remain standing in the doorway, hat 
 in hand, but only until Tatiana Feodorovna had placed chairs 
 for them at the table; then the Prince or Princess would invite 
 them to sit down, the tea was passed round, and often the 
 Prince or his son, or one of the young guests, would offer them 
 a cigarette, and talk flowed easily, as between those who 
 know and trust each other. Few among the servants could 
 read or write, but they had the natural intelligence and quick- 
 ness of perception common to their race, with its vein of 
 quaint humour and wealth of feeling; and in this quiet and 
 natural freedom from constraint, without any oppressive 
 consciousness of favour or condescension, they felt themselves 
 entirely at their ease in the presence of the Barin and Barina, 
 who, in their turn, enjoyed a kindred feeling.
 
 26 KATYA 
 
 This everyday simplicity, however, was interrupted from 
 time to time by periods of festivity, when Priluka displayed 
 a boundless magnificence. Sasha had once hit upon a generic 
 title for these volcanic eruptions; he called them " Eagle 
 Days," because his father on such occasions was wont to 
 appear in court dress of imposing splendour, heavy with gold, 
 and decorated with the Grand Cross and Star of the Order 
 of the White Eagle. The Princess wore a dazzling selection 
 of jewels; her pearls and diamonds, heirlooms in the family, 
 were known far and wide, and the Rilinski emeralds had on 
 one occasion, at a Court ball, attracted the attention of the 
 Empress herself. The splendid set of turquoise stones, which 
 had belonged to the family for generations, were said to have 
 formed part of the booty taken from the Turks in a Balkan 
 campaign far back in the fourteenth century, from which the 
 Rilinskis took the name that marked their Servian origin, 
 and which is still to be found in Bosnian place-names, as well 
 as in the folk-songs of the country, where it ranks with those 
 of the Niemanids and the great Tsar Stefan Dushan. 
 
 On these days, also, the old silver was taken out, and the 
 innumerable pieces of old enamel work, both useful and orna- 
 mental, that lay hidden away in drawers and cupboards, to 
 which Tatiana Feodorovna alone possessed the keys. In the 
 two corridors which led from the crescent-shaped main build- 
 ing to the rooms in either wing, stood long rows of great 
 chests, filled with native embroidery and hand-loom work, 
 some of which dated from the time when Ukraine formed part 
 of the Kingdom of Poland; these treasures were routed out 
 and spread about the rooms in many-coloured profusion. 
 The plain simplicity of Priluka, with its everyday furniture, 
 chiefly imitations, made in Kief, of German models from the 
 fifties was lost beneath all this splendour ; the place was filled 
 with an atmosphere of ancestral and local history. Not a 
 carpet, not a cushioned corner but told some tale of long- 
 forgotten days. The heavy silver things and vessels of 
 strangely worked enamel, the ancient eikons set with precious 
 stones, the great candelabra with their pyramids of candles, 
 and the dazzling richness of the family jewels all these com- 
 bined to make a picture of barbaric Eastern beauty, lit by the 
 romance of the past, and lightly touched with the mellowing 
 tinge of faded centuries.
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 27 
 
 True to Russian tradition, meat and drink were served on 
 such occasions in generous extravagance, and heavy, highly 
 flavoured dishes were the rule. Meals rarely consisted of 
 many courses, but each course was a mountain of food. 
 
 The general daily life at Priluka might be marked by a 
 certain economy in trifles, such as the serving of dessert in 
 small helpings, or a restriction in the matter of sugar, and 
 wine was rarely seen ; but whenever Priluka entertained, there 
 was more than abundance of everything in the shape of food, 
 and champagne flowed in unstinted streams, side by side 
 with vodka. The mixture seemed to suit the taste of the 
 guests, who were so hospitably plied therewith as to retain 
 a long-lived recollection of the feast. 
 
 Festivities of this sort were admirably suited for the en- 
 tertainment of the landed nobility of the neighbourhood, with 
 army men and officers of gendarmerie, Government officials 
 from Tshernigof, and such other guests as the countryside 
 could furnish all people far inferior both in birth and position 
 to Prince Rilinski and his wife, a daughter of the famous 
 General Vlasof, who had been one of the heroes of the Crimean 
 War, and who had been chief of the staff of two Emperors. 
 But something more was necessary when it was a question of 
 receiving the daughters of the houses of Miliukin and Dolgo- 
 ruki young ladies who, by virtue of birth, wealth, and educa- 
 tion, belonged to the first society of the capital, and who 
 had spent more time in Western Europe than in Russia itself. 
 True, there was a slight blot on the scutcheon in the case of 
 Elena Dolgoruki, as Shipagin had pointed out to Karatayef. 
 " Vera Nadeshda " had been a music-hall singer of renown, 
 and her name had been coupled with those of many wealthy 
 young merchants or officers of the Guards. All this, however, 
 belonged to a period some eighteen or twenty years back, and 
 in Russia such things are more easily forgiven and forgotten 
 than elsewhere. Moreover, Vera Nadeshda had proved a 
 model Countess. Her piety was a shining example to her 
 surroundings. Shortly before her marriage she had forsaken 
 the Church of Rome and gone over to Orthodoxy, and on 
 entering her new dignity she had thrown herself zealously 
 into charitable work, under the auspices of the higher clergy ; 
 wherefore more than one prelate of rank might be heard to 
 refer to her as " his excellent friend." With rare audacity,
 
 28 KATYA 
 
 also, she had made a swift transition from wife to matron; 
 quite suddenly, without warning or apparent reason, she had 
 surrendered at discretion, declining to fight longer for the 
 preservation of what remained to her of youthful charm. 
 Her hair became grey between a dinner and the following 
 lunch, and all the traces of advancing age were permitted to 
 manifest themselves without concealment. Everything that 
 served to remind one of Vera Nadeshda was erased, and only 
 the pious dignity of the Countess Dolgoruki remained. Her 
 children were well received in the first houses of the country, 
 and Elena's bosom friend, Elisaveta Vasilievna Miliukin, 
 daughter of the Russian Ambassador in Paris, was now a 
 guest under the roof of Count and Countess Dolgoruki. The 
 visit of the two young ladies was thus an honour worthy of 
 the house of Rilinski, and as such must be celebrated by a 
 certain departure from the simple living of every day. It 
 was, moreover, a necessary concession to the altered manners 
 of the age; the younger generation at Priluka would be called 
 upon to live another life than their parents had done. Prince 
 Sergei had his children's future happiness at heart, by which 
 he understood a distinguished career for Sasha if it should 
 please God to spare him and successful marriages for all 
 three of them. However much they now might hold by their 
 own house, with its traditions, and prefer the companionship 
 of the few friends now among them, the time would come when 
 they would recognize the wisdom of those ideas which their 
 parents now were planning and striving to realize for 
 them. 
 
 Prince Sergei turned a sympathetic ear to his wife's homilies 
 upon the inadvisability of leaving their two daughters early 
 and late to the companionship of young men who simply could 
 not help falling in love with them. They needed girl friends 
 of their own age. Moreover, all of them, but Sasha in par- 
 ticular, needed to familiarize themselves with the tone and 
 manner customary among young men and women of good 
 family, which was set aside in the intimate companionship of 
 sisters and boy friends. 
 
 The more Prince Sergei thought over these observations of 
 his wife's, the more importance did he attach to her ideas. 
 Something ought certainly to be done to prevent the intimacy 
 which already existed between his two daughters and Sasha's
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 29 
 
 friends from reaching a point where it might become dangerous. 
 Shipagin would of course do no harm, but, on the other hand, 
 he did not seem likely to do any good. He was the son of one 
 of the largest landowners in the province, a man of immense 
 wealth, with whom Prince Rilinski had been on terms of 
 intimacy for many years, until drunkenness and eccentricity 
 had rendered it impossible to associate with him. Alexander 
 Shipagin was firmly convinced that he was a poet, and poet 
 he may have been, though no living soul had ever been found 
 who had read or heard a line that he had written. Some- 
 thing at least he must be supposed to have produced in the 
 periods when he shut himself up for days together, receiving 
 his food through a grating in the door, like a captive in a 
 romantic novel. At times he might be heard groaning and 
 moaning in his cell, until his poor wife, Maria Petrovna, whose 
 one object in life was to avoid observation, was constrained 
 to knock at his door and call through the grating to ask if 
 he desired a priest or a doctor to be sent for. On which the 
 poet would bang the shutter to, giving vent to yet more 
 piercing howls, and shouting violently in a language which 
 she did not understand. These attacks were always preceded 
 by periods when Alexander Shipagin went about in a sort 
 of ecstacy, moving in a world removed from earth ; he talked 
 with saints and angels, and his manner was most divinely 
 mild. After the crisis had passed, however, he would begin 
 to drink, and not be sober for days, neglecting his person in 
 such a degree as to disgust the servants whose duty it became 
 to drag him off to bed. He scarcely exchanged a word with 
 his only son from one year's end to another, nor did either 
 ever write. Vladimir was the antithesis of his father. Even 
 Princess Rilinski, who judged all men mildly, and who had 
 done what she could to help him since the days when he was 
 a lonely child, was forced to admit that he was far from 
 intelligent, and thought too much of himself. His one am- 
 bition appeared to be perfect neatness or rather " correct- 
 ness " in dress. It would almost seem that he endeavoured 
 to wipe out his father's irregularities of conduct by a scrupu- 
 lously decorous behaviour, and to atone for or revenge 
 the sordid dinginess of his home by an exaggerated cleanliness 
 in his person. 
 
 Ever since young Karatayef had been included in the
 
 30 KATYA 
 
 young people's circle, the Princess had been careful to neglect 
 
 no opportunity of inviting Vladimir; she preferred to have 
 
 three young men besides Sasha at Priluka rather than two 
 
 only. Whatever hopes she may have entertained in this 
 
 direction with regard to Vladimir Shipagin were, however, 
 
 disappointed. Katya and Sonya never seemed to notice his 
 
 presence; Sasha did not like him; and Petya Orloff and 
 
 Karatayef despised him. Meanwhile, the intimacy which 
 
 existed between the daughters of the house and Sasha's two 
 
 friends grew closer every day. Prince Sergei was obliged to 
 
 admit that he had not fully realized this until it had been 
 
 pointed out to him by his wife. But recent events even 
 
 such trifles as the affair of the kvas, and the subsequent 
 
 episode with Petrushka had brought to light a degree of 
 
 intimacy between people of that age which could scarcely be 
 
 regarded with complacency. And Prince Sergei had no desire 
 
 to see either of his daughters attached by either Petya Orloff 
 
 or Nikolai Karatayef. Petya he considered almost in the light 
 
 of a son, a ward entrusted to him by his old friend, Admiral 
 
 Konstantin Orloff, who in the days of Alexander II. had done 
 
 more than any other man in Russia for the development of 
 
 the Black Sea fleet. Admiral Orloff had been a perfect type 
 
 of Russian gentleman of the old school, a man of great and 
 
 kindly heart, always ready to make allowances for others, 
 
 and with a modesty of manner which approached humility, 
 
 despite the iron will that no human power could bend from its 
 
 purpose. Had he but lived, Prince Rilinski would have 
 
 been spared much of the anxiety which now oppressed him. 
 
 For the old Admiral perhaps the only man who possessed 
 
 any influence over Sergei Arkadievitch would certainly have 
 
 dissuaded him from the speculative operations in Odessa 
 
 which now bound Prince Rilinski to General Karatayef, and 
 
 in which most of his own, his wife's, and his children's fortune 
 
 was at stake. But Konstantin Orloff knew nothing of finance 
 
 money was the one thing in the world he least knew how 
 
 to manage. Of the little he had left behind, half had gone 
 
 to provide for his daughter Olga on her marriage to a penniless 
 
 young officer of artillery in Turkestan, and it was necessary 
 
 to husband the remainder with care if it was to suffice for 
 
 the expenses of Petya's military education. Prince Sergei 
 
 was Petya's guardian. And the boy should never lack a helping
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 31 
 
 hand as long as he needed one; that was the least tribute he 
 could pay to the memory of his dead friend. Moreover, Petya 
 was a fine young fellow : a frank and open nature, kindly and 
 gentle, easily led, and at times a little wild, but always, even 
 in his most reckless moments, chivalrous in a boyish, winning 
 way which made men as well as woman love him. Prince 
 Sergei was very fond of Petya. But as a son-in-law . . . 
 Petya might in a year's time become an officer in the navy, 
 without a single rouble beyond his pay. It was not to be 
 thought of. And the Prince was quite convinced that neither 
 of his daughters could ever be so imprudent. . . . 
 
 Anastasia Gregorievna had said something about Sonya and 
 Niki Karatayef. This idea he resolutely declined to enter- 
 tain. A girl of fifteen 1 Nothing but childish fancy, to be 
 got rid of as soon as possible. And if that young rascal 
 dared. . . . Here his wife interrupted him, with right, as usual, 
 on her side. Nikolai Karatayef was no rascal. Awkward 
 perhaps, and shy, and somewhat heavy, and yet, in spite of 
 a touch of melancholy in his regular features, healthy and 
 robust, with the strong, hot blood of peasant stock, a con- 
 trast alike to poor, pale, quiet Sasha, the gentle Petya, and 
 Shipagin, with his ridiculous vanity. But Niki was a clever boy 
 and a good comrade, who had had a good influence on Sasha, 
 and well deserved his friendship. All this Prince Sergei was 
 forced to admit, and when his wife looked up at him with that 
 quiet, persistent interrogation which he knew so well, and 
 asked him why he was so violently opposed to the idea, he 
 could only answer that he did not like the boy. And this 
 good reason sounded strangely like a very poor excuse. 
 Anastasia Gregorievna said nothing, but he knew she had 
 divined his thought, and the knowledge served to further 
 fan the growing flame of his ill-will towards the man who 
 had gradually got him into his power. The very thought of 
 his business connection with General Karatayef was painful 
 to Prince Sergei. It was as inexplicable to himself as to 
 others that he should ever have come to stand in such relation 
 to this retired chief of the Army Supply Corps. Prince 
 Rilinski was a tall, broad-shouldered man, well-built, well- 
 dressed, and ; with a refined dignity of manner. He was 
 regarded as a grand seigneur, and did his best to live up to his 
 reputation. General Karatayef went about in his old worn
 
 32 KATYA 
 
 uniform, which, as his meagre figure gradually shrank, became 
 more and more disproportionate to his personal dimensions. 
 He had a habit of shaking himself and gathering his loose 
 clothes round him, as if continually suffering from cold. He 
 was nervously restless at all times, now fidgeting absently 
 with the Cross of the Vladimir Order which he wore round his 
 neck, now stroking his bald head, and ever and anew stooping 
 to pick up some trifle from the floor a pin, a thread, any- 
 thing which his sharp eyes sighted and his quick, lean fingers 
 could grasp. Manifold rumours sought to explain the source of 
 General Karatayef's wealth; but he had sent in his resignation 
 entirely of his own accord, and had left the service with every 
 mark of honour. No one could reproach him with anything ; 
 even Prince Sergei himself was unable to find a single plausible 
 count on which to indict him. He had, against good security, 
 and through the agency of a first-class banking-house, ad- 
 vanced the Prince the necessary moneys for his building 
 speculations in Odessa. The sums involved were considerable. 
 But General Karatayef, far from inducing his friend to 
 speculate, had rather attempted to dissuade him, especially 
 as the Prince's method of doing business, in common with 
 that of most Russians of rank, consisted in entrusting the 
 management of his affairs to a confidential agent, invariably 
 a Jew, without in the least concerning himself personally 
 with the work. The only thing which could be alleged against 
 the General was that, as a landlord owning extensive property 
 in the new quarter then growing up to the north-west of the 
 Old Harbour in Odessa, where Prince Rilinski's ground was 
 situated, he had expressed such confidence in the project that 
 the Prince had been persuaded to invest more than he could 
 afford to lose if things went wrong. Sergei Arkadievitch was, 
 however, competent to take upon himself the responsibility 
 for his actions. General Karatayef was obliged to admit the 
 truth of the Prince's argument that he himself must be the 
 best judge of what was to his own advantage, and that if the 
 fortune of the family was to be augmented in order to meet 
 the increased demands which Sasha's introduction to the 
 diplomatic service and the marriage of the two girls would 
 inevitably make upon his resources, it were best to act at 
 once, while the children were yet young. It is possible that 
 General Karatayef would have hesitated thus to stake every-
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 33 
 
 thing on one card there were other promising speculations 
 to be found in Odessa. But the Prince's enthusiasm had 
 doubtless infected him; moreover, everything went sur- 
 prisingly well at the start, owing to the favourable condition 
 of the money-market at the close of the eighties, when native 
 industries, especially in Southern Russia, were advancing by 
 leaps and bounds. It almost looked as if it were Sergei 
 Arkadievitch, and not the aged and eccentric General, who 
 had shown himself possessed of true business insight. 
 
 The interest on these loans, however, made considerable 
 inroads upon the Prince's resources, and the obliging bank 
 in Odessa was precise in the matter of dates. Up to the 
 present there had been no actual embarrassment ; and it could 
 not be long before the houses were ready for occupation, and 
 then the profits would begin to come in. Such little difficulties 
 as had occurred up to now had always been satisfactorily 
 disposed of with the aid of the Jews in Odessa. Far more dis- 
 agreeable to the Prince was the feeling that General Karatayef 
 seemed to be somehow edging his way deeper and deeper into 
 his private affairs. Great stretches of forest about Priluka 
 had been mortgaged as security for the loans, some mills and 
 a couple of thousand deshatins of farm-land had followed. 
 On the last occasion when it had become necessary to raise 
 ready money, the Jewish advocate in Odessa had suggested 
 the orchards and the fishing of the lake, both lying under the 
 very windows of Priluka, as easily realizable assets, a business- 
 like proposition which had sent the Prince into such a transport 
 of rage that the agent feared for his skin. There was no time 
 to be lost, however ; contractors and workmen must be paid if 
 the work was to go on. Prince Rilinski deposited some 
 securities belonging to his wife and found no immediate 
 opportunity of mentioning the matter to her. And behind 
 all these complications Prince Sergei saw continually the 
 figure of the little withered General, playing with his cross, 
 stroking his bald head, and picking up innumerable pins 
 and threads. The old man had a way of asking, every 
 now and then, in his shivering, uncomfortable manner, 
 how things were going with " our timber " or " our harvest." 
 And the Prince felt it as an immeasurable impertinence which 
 he was powerless to resent. Sergei Arkadievitch had grown 
 to fear this meagre, miserable man, who looked at him with 
 
 3
 
 34 KATYA 
 
 horrid vulture eyes, and whose power lay about him like the 
 shadow of threatening wings. 
 
 Never never should a daughter of his marry that creature's 
 son. He owned too much already of Priluka and the heritage 
 of the Rilinskis. The very thought of Karatayef's talon 
 fingers touching child of his filled Prince Sergei with a passion 
 of disgust. That hateful Shylock of a man invested with 
 paternal rights over Sonya the shy and delicate creature who 
 was all the world to him, as Katya to her mother. . . . Rather 
 the direst of disaster anything than that ! 
 
 But she could not be so mad. A child of her age would 
 never throw herself away on the first who offered himself. 
 And why suppose that this young Karatayef cared for either 
 of them ? Or, if he did, it would not last. The boy was only 
 twenty-two, and had scarcely seen a petticoat in his life. 
 There was time enough for him. His father, too, would have 
 something to say in the matter, and he knew only too well 
 what was likely to be the marriage portion of a Princess 
 Rilinski as things were. 
 
 No, Elena Dolgoruki would be as good a match as young 
 Karatayef could ever hope to make. The approaching visit 
 of the two girls was in every way a desirable event. One of 
 Anastasia Gregorievna's excellent ideas ! And nothing should 
 be spared at Priluka to insure its being duly carried out. 
 No vulgar extravagance, but a quiet and tasteful elegance, 
 not to be discerned by the guests as any departure from the 
 daily tone and manner of the house. No ostentatious display, 
 but just so much of old-time ease and wealth as should enable 
 them to feel themselves at home and indisputably among their 
 equals. 
 
 Prince Sergei kissed his wife's hand lightly as he passed 
 her on the veranda. " My dear, you are an angel !" he said, 
 with an admiring glance. She said nothing, but nodded 
 gratefully in answer. 
 
 In the evening, at late tea, Sonya related all that she and 
 Tatiana Feodorovna had been doing in the way of prepara- 
 tions. Elena and Elisaveta were to have each their own room 
 near her own and Katya's, with a small boudoir between, 
 which they were to share. Their maids would be within easy 
 call, on the opposite side of the same wing, facing the court-
 
 NEW GUESTS ARRIVE 35 
 
 yard. Curtains had been hung up, and chairs and sofas 
 covered with fine old tapestries; vessels of silver, crystal, and 
 enamel had been placed in readiness to receive the flowers 
 which Katya had promised to furnish next morning before 
 the guests arrived. 
 
 " And is that your only contribution to the work of prepara- 
 tion, mademoiselle ?" inquired Prince Sergei playfully. " It 
 seems that your sister is to play the part of Martha !" 
 
 " Father, how can you say such things ! After Petya and 
 Niki and I have been in the stables all day !" 
 
 " I don't quite see the connection. . . ." 
 
 " We've been breaking in two of the new horses with 
 Mikailo to help, of course." 
 
 " Good Heavens, child the new greys, that have never seen 
 shaft or saddle in their lives !" Prince Sergei stared stupidly, 
 aghast. 
 
 " My dear papa, Elena and Elisaveta must have something 
 to ride, and we shall have to go with them. We can't give 
 them a couple of unbroken beasts ; they'll have to have mine 
 and one of the others, and then I and Petya or Nikolai 
 Nikolaievitch if he can must take the new ones." 
 
 " Katya, I forbid this. I will not allow . . ." 
 
 " Papa, it's as easy as anything !" 
 
 " Katya manages them beautifully, Uncle Sergei," broke 
 in Petya. And Karatayef added, " Splendidly !" with such 
 enthusiasm that both Sonya and her mother turned to look at 
 him, whereupon he flushed hotly and spilt his tea. 
 
 " And besides, Mikailo was there he held Murad by the ear 
 while I mounted. You ought to see how he can manage 
 them ! But Murad is the best." 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and Mikailo appeared, hat 
 in hand, and ceremoniously wished the family good-evening. 
 
 " Have some tea, Mikailo ?" said Katya hurriedly, and 
 Tatiana Feodorovna drew up a chair. 
 
 " I understand, Mikailo, that you have allowed Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna to mount the new grey, Murad. You should not 
 have permitted it ; and I do not wish to hear of any repetition 
 of these ah tricks." 
 
 Mikailo wiped his mouth on his red shirt-sleeve, blew his 
 tea, and swallowed a mouthful, and observed, with his head 
 on one side :
 
 36 KATYA 
 
 " Perfectly right, Your Highness. I told Ekaterina Ser- 
 geievna so myself. Not so nicely, of course but something 
 like it. Didn't I, my lamb ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, you did," said Petya. Katya merely nodded 
 encouragingly to Mikailo. 
 
 " But you see, Your Highness, in the first place, there's no 
 denying that we shall need more horses when the new young 
 ladies come, so it was not such a mad . . ." he hesitated, 
 seeking a more polite expression ..." wasn't exactly school- 
 girl nonsense the way it was put. And then er well, Your 
 Highness . . ." He took another sip of his tea. 
 
 " Go on, Mikailo," said the Prince impatiently. 
 
 " H'm, I don't know if Your Highness or Her Highness 
 the Princess can and that I humbly doubt, with all respect 
 . . . but well, I can't, Your Highness. And Peotr Konstan- 
 tinovitch can't either and Nikolai Nikolaievitch can't 
 either and ..." 
 
 " Can't what, Mikailo ?" 
 
 " Make the little lamb do anything but just what pleases 
 her." 
 
 Mikailo, having said his say, returned to his tea. 
 
 " You will kindly remember that these experiments are not 
 to be repeated." The Prince spoke sharply ; the young people 
 seemed unduly amused. 
 
 " Very well, Your Highness, I'll not forget it; but Ekate- 
 rina Sergeievna doesn't always remember little things like 
 that." 
 
 All laughed aloud at this. 
 
 " What did you want to ask me about, Mikailo ?" said the 
 Prince. It was high time to change the subject. 
 
 " Well, about the young ladies to-morrow; they'll have to 
 be fetched from Dubni." 
 
 " Quite right. Let me see. You'd better send a special 
 waggon for the luggage; there will doubtless be a good deal. 
 Ivan can take Dimitri with the little phaeton for the two 
 maids, and you can fetch the young ladies yourself in the 
 caleche. Take the two blacks ..." 
 
 " But, papa," broke in Katya, " aren't any of us to go to 
 meet them at the station ?" 
 
 " I presume you or Sonya one will be enough will go 
 with Sasha to fetch your guests."
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW 1" 37 
 
 " Not me, thank you, if we're to be four in that thing !" 
 Katya tossed her head. " 111 tell you what, papa, if you 
 wanted to be really nice ..." 
 
 " There you are !" burst out Mikailo involuntarily. A 
 ripple of laughter went round the room ; even the Prince was 
 unable to keep his countenance. 
 
 " Papa, let us fetch them in the old state coach and troika. 
 Mikailo does it splendidly. And I told Elena once, and she 
 wouldn't believe we had harness and everything, a hundred 
 years old and good as new ..." 
 
 Prince Sergei thought for a moment. " Very well, then, 
 you can take the troika." 
 
 Katya gave her father a kiss. Mikailo wiped his mouth 
 once more on his sleeve, and rising, bowed and made his exit, 
 with the following apparently incoherent remark : 
 
 " I thank Your Highnesses for the beautiful tea; I knew it 
 all along." 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW !" 
 
 ELENA DOLGORUKI and Elisaveta Miliukin had been a week 
 at Priluka. The days had flown. The young people filled 
 the place with merriment, and the Prince and Princess were 
 delighted. 
 
 Petya Orloff, however, had grown melancholy of late; the 
 time was drawing near when he should go back to Odessa and 
 rejoin the training-ship, and the others had a whole month 
 yet as long, indeed, as they cared to stay. He alone was 
 forced to leave this paradise of Priluka, which had become 
 almost like a home to him. 
 
 " Petya, I declare it suits you to look sad !" said Katya 
 to him the last evening, when they were out rowing together. 
 It had not been easy for him to get her to himself; her natural 
 restlessness had further increased since the arrival of her two 
 girl friends. Somehow or other it was always Katya who 
 determined what was to be done each day, and gave orders 
 for riding, bathing, picking mushrooms, shopping at Dubni, 
 open-air games, reading aloud, or whatever chanced to occur 
 to her mind ; but she was also the first to forsake any one of
 
 38 KATYA 
 
 the pastimes she herself had chosen as soon as a new idea 
 came into her head. Katya's newest idea was always, at the 
 moment of its conception, immeasurably beyond all other 
 ideas that ever were. Time after time she drove Shipagin 
 to despair, when, having dressed himself carefully for what- 
 ever undertaking had been agreed upon, he made his appear- 
 ance only to find that something quite different had been 
 decided in the meantime, for which his then attire did not 
 suit at all. She was the tyrant of them all not with the 
 least desire to tease or hurt, but rather as a dramatic author, 
 superintending the rehearsal of his own play, insists on the 
 actors and actresses' playing the parts assigned to them in 
 accordance with his own idea, claiming the same authority 
 as he has over the characters whose fate he has determined. 
 Katya's head was always full of plans. She was ceaselessly 
 occupied, and, as a matter of fact, she ought not to be sitting 
 here out on the lake alone with Petya. . . . 
 
 " Katya, would you write to me now and then?" said Orloff ; 
 his voice was low, with a little despondent note. 
 
 " I really don't know if I shall have time." 
 
 " You might do a little thing like that to please me, Katya." 
 
 " And why should I write to you in particular ?" Some- 
 thing in Petya's tone interested her, compelled her attention 
 at any rate, for the moment. 
 
 " Because because it would mean very much to me." 
 
 " Petya !" 
 
 He looked up at her, half-fearing to read in her face some- 
 thing which should destroy in a moment all the hopes he had 
 been building in his secret heart. 
 
 " Petya, isn't it lovely here at Priluka ?" 
 
 " Yes." The word melted into a sigh. 
 
 It was a warm evening in late July, about the time when 
 twilight spreads itself abroad like a low breath over earth 
 and sky, ushering gently away the heat of day, and giving 
 place itself to the deep, star-sown night. The water rippled 
 softly against the sides of the boat; somewhere among the 
 reeds a duck was calling to her young. The great trees of 
 the park, that leant their heavy tops out over the water, grew 
 more and more indistinct; and up beyond the lawn that 
 sloped gently down towards the lake, between the sentinel- 
 like groups of oak and birch and pine, stood the white palace,
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW 1" 39 
 
 like some distant vision of a dream. The lamps were being 
 lit, and the gleam from the windows was flung out across the 
 water in a trembling golden ray, as from some star more 
 near and bright than all the heavens held. There, where the 
 stream flowed out through broad, soft meadows, white wreaths 
 of mist gathered and clung to the tiny waves, leaving a per- 
 fume of thyme and new-mown hay. Far away on the other 
 side of the park Mikailo was singing a little sorrowful song 
 of the Cossack hero whose love deserted him. 
 
 " Nights of Ukraine ..." whispered Katya. 
 
 Petya Orloffs eyes were fixed upon her as she sat there in 
 her thin white dress, her head resting on her hands, and her 
 deep eyes gazing far into the beauty of the night. She looked 
 as one who prays and the boy felt a strange desire himself 
 to kneel and worship. 
 
 " Petya, why do you want me to write ? Tell me, Petya 
 whisper." 
 
 " Because because there's nobody that cares . . . and I 
 care so much for you, Katya. I think if I only knew that you 
 thought of me sometimes, I wouldn't mind so much about 
 father and all the rest. Not be so lonely Katya, you 
 don't know what it means to be lonely. . . ." 
 
 " Yes I do, Petya I know. Those horrible years in 
 Kief " 
 
 " Not like me, Katya. You had Sonya, and you could always 
 come home. But I've only got myself and it's not easy to 
 get on with all the others teachers and the fellows on 
 board. . . . And you were only homesick for your own home, 
 and you knew it was there waiting for you all the time. But 
 I haven't any home and sometimes I don't know what it is 
 I'm lonely and miserable about. ..." 
 
 He paused. Somehow he seemed to be saying things he 
 hadn't in the least meant to say. 
 
 " Go on, Petya. If I do write to you . . ." 
 
 " Katya, if you only would ! But not only about tricks 
 you do and things ... if you wrote about you and me I 
 believe you could, if you cared about it. Then I would work 
 ever so hard, at books and everything, and pass decently, and 
 be an officer and all that, and then perhaps Uncle Sergei and 
 Aunt Anastasia would give us a hand, and . . ." 
 " Do you really care as much as all that, Petya ?"
 
 40 KATYA 
 
 Katya had drawn the end of her thick brown plait over her 
 shoulder and was playing thoughtfully with the curling tassel 
 of hair. 
 
 " Katya, you're the only creature in the world I really 
 care for. Sasha can keep Elisaveta Miliukin if he likes, and 
 Shipagin can run after Elena I don't care a straw for either 
 of them. If only you cared a little you could help me ever 
 so much if you only would." 
 
 He moved aft and sat down on the thwart beside her ; she 
 made no protest. The boat was drifting idly, without sound 
 over the silent lake. 
 
 " Promise you won't tell, Katya " his voice sank to a 
 whisper " I've I've cried sometimes at night, at school, 
 you know, and on board too, because it hurt so to think there 
 wasn't a single soul that cared. All the others have got 
 fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts and every- 
 thing; but I've got nobody, only Olga, and she's ever so far 
 away in Turkestan." 
 
 Katya laid her hand over one of his. 
 
 " I don't know if you can understand, Katya, but sometimes 
 I think it wouldn't be so bad not having anyone to care for 
 one, if only there was somebody one really cared for oneself 
 just one creature to be really, really fond of, you know, and 
 look after, be kind to, and do things for. Oh, I can't explain 
 things I mean I never can . . ." 
 
 " Sh ! Petya, go on, I want to hear." 
 
 " And it's you I've wanted, Katya you like you were as 
 a little girl, when I fought the others for you, and we were 
 to run away to Turkey ; and you as you are now, this evening, 
 so quiet and gentle; and you when you ride Murad its always 
 you, Katya. I never think of anyone else. It's ever so much 
 worse for me than for Niki with Sonya . . ." 
 
 Katya drew her hand away. After a moment, however, 
 she gave it him again, as if she had changed her mind. 
 
 " Petya, do you mean to say that Sonya and . . ." 
 
 " Niki's over head and ears in love with her. He never looks 
 at any of the others. But he's got his father. He'll be rich 
 one day, and then, he's clever . . ." 
 
 She kissed his forehead. It was done before she thought. 
 
 " Petya, we must go in, its ever so late. Row row as 
 hard as you can, and let me steer !"
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW !" 41 
 
 The boat shot through the water, sending an arch of spray 
 up on either side. Petya found it all too easy. He wished 
 she had demanded unthinkable impossibilities; for she had 
 given him that kiss given it, that he had never dared to 
 ask or take himself . . . nothing was impossible any more. 
 
 As they reached the landing-stage she sprang ashore. 
 
 "Lock up the boat, Petya; papa's always angry when it 
 isn't locked." 
 
 Petya, standing up in the boat, saw the light, lithe figure 
 move away toward the dark of the trees ; then her voice came 
 to him, speaking softly, as she had spoken out there on the 
 water : 
 
 " And I will write, Petya of you and me !" 
 
 The figure vanished into the dark nights of Ukraine ! 
 . . . Petya Orloff trod the gravel as one going forth to win 
 new worlds. 
 
 Tatiana Feodorovna marked with intense disapproval the 
 fact that the number of courses at lunch and dinner had been 
 increased, that both meals had been set an hour later than 
 the usual time, and that at least two sorts of wine were 
 served at each. Moreover, she had been ordered to open 
 certain jars of special preserve, which in her opinion should 
 have remained untouched, and she noticed with displeasure 
 that the strange young ladies' rooms had been decorated with 
 costly stuffs which only saw the light on special occasions 
 once or twice a year; but the head and front of all offending 
 was the presence of the two young ladies' maids. These she 
 maintained were " foreigners," and always spoke of them as 
 such, in spite of the fact that they were born in Russia and 
 spoke nothing but Russian. Tatiana alleged as proof the fact 
 that they came from a place which no one had ever heard of 
 being Estland and that it was impossible to understand 
 a word they said. This last was due to the circumstance 
 that the two maids spoke pure Russian, and not the dialect 
 of the country round Prihika. Elena Dolgoruki and Elisa- 
 veta Miliukin were very charming young ladies ; she had not 
 a word to say against them, and if it pleased the Prince and 
 Princess to turn the house upside down and introduce all 
 manner of heathen customs, well and good ; it was their own 
 affair, and no business of hers. But she was not going to
 
 42 KATYA 
 
 take orders from these impertinent young foreigners who, 
 beyond doubt, were a couple of unchristian creatures, and 
 who had already begun to set their caps at Dimitri, good-for- 
 nothing that he was, and Mikailo, who had a wife of his own 
 already, and any amount of children. They were not an 
 atom of use, these foreigners, as far as she could see, except 
 to eat hard-working folk out of house and home. Tea, cakes, 
 and sweetmeats disappeared before them in a manner which 
 brought to mind her late husband's summary way of dealing 
 with bottles of vodka; and always running in and out, now 
 heating irons, now borrowing needles and thread, or washing 
 ribbons and laces in some evil-smelling stuff that was enough 
 to send an honest woman into a fainting-fit. 
 
 Tatiana Feodorovna laid these new evidences of malign 
 persecution on the part of fate before Stefan the cook, ex- 
 patiating at length upon the additional injustice of the fact 
 that the said fate had delegated foreigners to serve its evil 
 purpose; but Stefan shrugged his shoulders resignedly, as 
 one whom nothing can astonish. He, too, had marked an 
 evil influence at work ; his duties were become more arduous, 
 more complicated, and the various innovations in the matter 
 of meals troubled him exceedingly. But nothing in the world 
 ever happened without due and sufficient cause, and Stefan 
 called to mind the fact that Petrushka still lived on and had 
 his being at Priluka, growing, moreover, greener every day. 
 
 One evening this was after Petya Orloff had left Tatiana 
 Feodorovna unburdened herself to her favourite Sasha con- 
 cerning the latest indignities which she had suffered at the 
 hands of the foreigners a long story about some flat-irons 
 which had disappeared. Sasha was, as a rule, her most 
 patient hearer; on this occasion, however, he was less sym- 
 pathetic than usual. He listened inattentively to her careful 
 and detailed account of the remarkable happenings, and before 
 she had time to finish, interrupted her with a remark which 
 she would remember to her dying day : 
 
 " My dear Tanya, don't be so unreasonable !" 
 
 Alexander Sergeievitch sided with the foreigners ! There 
 was no longer justice to be found on earth ! 
 
 Tanya was right; Priluka had changed. Sasha felt a new 
 air about him, in him, lifting and lightening all his being.
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW I" 43 
 
 He ceased to read his holidays away; already he had begun to 
 think with deep aversion of the approaching return to Moscow 
 studies and examinations. He had spoken to Karatayef as 
 to the possibility of postponing their departure, and mirdbile 
 dictu.t Niki, the paragon of virtue, Niki the conscience- 
 ridden, had declared that they might just as well stay on at 
 Priluka. No term had been mentioned; Niki's manner had 
 given Sasha the impression that he meant to adjourn the 
 very question even to a future far beyond all present horizons. 
 It was long since Sasha had felt so well; he forgot to feel 
 tired, forgot almost the little troublesome cough which was 
 often so difficult to conceal from the notice of those about 
 him. And everybody was so kind seemed to anticipate 
 his wishes and guess his thoughts, and yet without a tinge of 
 irritating officiousness. Katya, for instance ; how wonder- 
 fully she managed to plan just such little expeditions as he 
 most loved, and arrange them, moreover, in the most natural 
 manner in the world, so that he found himself seated beside 
 Elisaveta Vasilievna, riding with her behind the others or lost 
 by the rest of the party and only found again when it was 
 time to start for home ! She had a way, too, of letting fall 
 a remark, a careless observation, which turned the conversa- 
 tion on to the subject of the ancient glories of the Rilinskis, 
 which saga he knew by heart, or the history of the place, 
 which he likewise had at his finger-ends. Sometimes she 
 would even make a direct proposal, asking him to read aloud 
 to Elisaveta from Gogol's " Stories of Ukraine " or Pusch- 
 kin's poems; she knew how well he read. Then she would 
 carry off the rest to help her with something which must be 
 done. ... As a matter of fact, it frequently taxed severely 
 even Katya's powers of impromptu invention to find some- 
 thing with which the others could and must help her. Sasha 
 was under her very effective protection, and he did not know 
 how to thank her. When he mentioned the subject, she 
 merely answered in a motherly tone: " She's quite charming, 
 Sasha; your choice does you credit." 
 
 Elisaveta Miliukin was nearly twenty, full two years 
 younger than Sasha, and almost as much older than Katya. 
 " And Katya, little devil, does what she likes with us both," 
 thought Sasha to himself, without a trace of bitterness, 
 however; on the contrary, he was filled with admiration and
 
 44 KATYA 
 
 gratitude. He had grown very fond of Elisaveta Vasilievna 
 in the bright sunny days at Priluka; she had developed wonder- 
 fully since the old days at Kief. Her stay in Paris, where 
 her parents lived, had done her good; all trace of the school- 
 girl had disappeared ; she was a woman of the world in manner, 
 form, and feature. Elisaveta Miliukin was of pure Russian 
 stock, but she had already, young as she was, acquired that 
 ease of manner, a conscious and yet natural grace, which is 
 only learned in the highest circles of cosmopolitan society. 
 Elena Dolgoruki, on the other hand, despite the sums which 
 had been spent upon her education, had benefited little by 
 the constant attendance of French nurses and English gover- 
 nesses. She had been to the first convent school in Kief, 
 had studied singing in Paris, music in Leipzig, and learnt 
 riding in London, and, in spite of it all, she remained what 
 she was a girl of the people, red and white, round and 
 naturally sweet, but quite unable to wear the creations which 
 her mother ordered from the St. Petersburg branches of 
 French modistes, and which her maid hung about her as 
 one hangs dresses on a doll. Elisaveta Vasilievna had one 
 thing in common with Katya the hall-mark of race was 
 always evident in her appearance, however simply she might 
 be dressed. But Katya's charm lay in a certain restless, 
 mobile grace, now playful as a squirrel's, now lithe and eager 
 as a greyhound's; Elisaveta's manner was quiet and re- 
 strained, possessing every womanly charm, but always under 
 most perfect control. And Sasha was completely fascinated. 
 
 Her home surroundings had played an important part in 
 her education. Accustomed as she was to hear clever men 
 talk of weighty matters, she had become practised in the art 
 of speaking or being silent as the occasion demanded; and 
 while she did not possess either Katya's instinctive intelli- 
 gence or Elena Dolgoruki's goodness of heart, she had yet a 
 power foreign to both she could listen. She was one of those 
 women in whom men confide, and whom they consider clever, 
 because they are always ready to act the part of sympathetic 
 audience. Sasha had quickly become convinced that she 
 was both intelligent and accomplished, and his father held 
 the same opinion. Altogether, Elisaveta Miliukin was con- 
 sidered a great acquisition at Priluka. 
 
 She herself was thoroughly enjoying her stay. The sur-
 
 " ROW PETYA, ROW !" 45 
 
 roundings were kindly, pleasant, and amusing. There was 
 no other house within the circle of her acquaintance where 
 she had found or was likely to find such an opportunity for 
 youthful, free-and-easy holiday life. She felt herself deli- 
 cately flattered by the admiration which she read in Sasha's 
 eyes, as well as by the deference to her wishes and opinions 
 which the boy, ably seconded by Katya, contrived to exact 
 on all sides. She was beginning, indeed, to grow more inter- 
 ested than she would have cared to admit, even to herself. 
 The stiff and strictly religious atmosphere at Count Dolgoruki's 
 had made the place unendurably dull for her, and the invita- 
 tion for Elena and herself had come as a welcome relief. Yet 
 she had scarcely expected to find Priluka as it now appeared 
 there was about the place more of breeding and tradition, and 
 at the same time more freedom, than she had imagined. And 
 Sasha . . . she had never dreamed that Sasha ... he, too, 
 was so different. 
 
 Elena also found him changed he was a different person 
 altogether. " Katya dear, I was wrong; your brother's not 
 a bit dull, after all. He used to be, but not now. And 
 Vladimir Alexandrovitch isn't he charming 1" 
 
 " You dear little stupid 1" said Katya, with such girl- 
 friendly, underlined enthusiasm that Elena felt quite touched. 
 Really Priluka was the sweetest place; everybody was so 
 marvellously kind, and everything so delightfully different 
 from her own home. . . . 
 
 Elena had not hitherto received much of that mysterious 
 homage sometimes called " attentions." And Vladimir 
 Shipagin certainly paid his most assiduously. 
 
 After a long and painful inward struggle, Niki Karatayef 
 had at last come to a decision. Sonya, Sonya and none other, 
 should reign henceforward in his heart. The pangs of doubt 
 had become unendurable ; the trouble in his soul shadowed the 
 very summer for himself, and he felt also that the penumbra 
 of his melancholy darkened in some degree the brightness 
 of the days for those about him, who could not fathom the 
 meaning of his moody silence. His honourable nature suffered 
 continually under the offendings of his indecision ; there was 
 no day but saw some breach of an unspoken bond to one of 
 the twain he worshipped. And if ever either of them appealed
 
 46 KATYA 
 
 to him to settle a dispute, he stood timorously hesitant, a 
 picture of helpless unmanliness. But now he would make an 
 end of it once and for all. He had decided. 
 
 And it was to be Sonya. She was nearer, less hopelessly 
 inaccessible. Katya could never care for such a man as he, 
 who had proved himself unable to follow in subservient 
 admiration wherever she led. For this was what she asked 
 not openly, indeed, but none the less distinctly. And if 
 she thought that he in his inmost soul trembled to think to 
 what extremes her power might lead him ; dreaded the depths 
 which he imagined hidden beneath her sparkling, lightly 
 shifting moods ; if she suspected that he feared her, as indeed 
 he did then she would flick him carelessly out of her con- 
 sciousness, as a speck from her sleeve. 
 
 No; it must be Sonya.. He longed for rest and peace of 
 mind. There needed no words to tell him that if ever Katya 
 should be won and held, he who should win and hold her would 
 have to make his every mood and feeling vassal to her own, 
 following, beat for beat and grade for grade, the swift, inscrut- 
 able movings of her humour, that changed more swiftly than 
 a storm-rent sky. She was not for him. He felt himself too 
 heavy and too slow for the rapid feint and fence of such keen 
 play. 
 
 Sonya ! . . . Slowly he would win her the shy, quiet, gentle 
 child; slowly they should ripen in each others' sun towards 
 the mellow happiness of a life together. No more cheap 
 dreams of fierce adventure on the path of honour, wealth, and 
 men's renown, with Katya to crown the victor, Katya to wear 
 the spoils. No more wild plans of vainly perilous deeds, 
 dared but to win a spark of acclamation from her eyes. And 
 no more bitterness of heart at seeing her favour flung to others 
 freer, bolder than his weakling self. Thank Heaven ... no 
 more of that ! 
 
 Sonya 1 ... The very thought was as a sanctuary of peace. 
 She was not yet sixteen ; too young as yet to leave the soft- 
 lined nest built so protectingly about her. And when the 
 time came for him to lead her away, he would know that she 
 was his, and his alone. She would be gentle, as her mother had 
 been in the dark days of his bereavement, when she had 
 wrapped him round with comfort of warm kindliness. With 
 her he would forget, and hope. Her soft smile and the long
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW !" 47 
 
 look of her big, soft eyes would calm the tempest-shocks that 
 rent his soul at the thought of Katya in the arms of some 
 strong champion such as he could never be. 
 Sonya ! . . . 
 
 A week after Petya Orloff ' s departure, two letters arrived 
 one to the Prince and Princess, and one to Sasha. He wrote 
 to thank them for the delightful time in which he had once 
 more enjoyed a holiday at Priluka; next time he came, he 
 hoped that it might be as an officer in the navy. " I will do 
 my utmost," he wrote, "to be worthy of my father's name, 
 and of the kindness you have always shown me." And he 
 remained, "with affectionate respect, P. K. Orloff, cadet." 
 
 " A splendid fellow true son of my old friend," said the 
 Prince. 
 
 " A good boy, with a big, soft heart," murmured the 
 Princes^. 
 
 " But horribly wild," added Elena. 
 
 " Not the sort of man I care about," was Shipagin's 
 comment. 
 
 Sasha glanced hurriedly through his letter, and put it in 
 his pocket. 
 
 " And what does Petya say to you ?" asked Prince Sergei. 
 
 " Oh, only a few lines about some things he had left behind." 
 
 Katya had kept her eyes fixed on Sasha as he read. It was 
 most annoying that the post now came just at luncheon-time, 
 instead of half an hour or so after. 
 
 " I know !" she broke out suddenly. " We'll go down to 
 the hay fields and help make hay." 
 
 This plan was still under discussion when the Prince, at a 
 sign from his wife, rose to intimate that the meal was over. 
 
 " Give me that letter, quick !" whispered Katya hurriedly 
 to her brother. The two had remained behind in the doorway 
 as the others went out to have coffee on the veranda. 
 
 " How do you know there's a letter for you ?" 
 
 " Don't be silly ! Give it me, at once !" 
 
 Sasha handed over the letter, feeling himself, however, in 
 duty bound to shake a warning finger at his sister. 
 
 But Katya was out of sight. 
 
 Hurrying along the corridor to her own wing of the house, 
 she ran into one of the " foreigners," almost knocking her
 
 48 KATYA 
 
 over. A moment later she had locked herself in her room, 
 and pulled down the blind. 
 
 " MY DARLING KATYA ! 
 
 " We have been back on board a week now, and I am 
 beginning to get used to the change, after the lovely time at 
 Priluka. It is pretty hard work on board; we are doing 
 gunnery, and there is a lot of stiff mathematics and nasty 
 construction work; it is an awful grind. But I am working 
 all I can, and you shall see I will keep my promise to you, 
 and I know you will keep yours, and write of you and me. 
 I think of you every day, and I have sworn that you shall 
 never regret it. Can you remember, you told me to ' row 
 hard and let you steer ?' I think that is best for both of us, 
 for you are the cleverest; but you must have someone with 
 strong arms to work for you and protect you, and there is 
 nothing I would love better in all the world, Katya, my 
 darling. You don't know how happy I am. Now that I have 
 you, I know I shall get on, and you shall never be sorry for 
 having trusted 
 
 " Your faithful friend till death, 
 
 " PETYA." 
 
 Katya could not help smiling. Poor dear boy 1 It didn't 
 take much to make him happy. She would write as he wished . 
 Poor fellow! he needed a little kindness, alone and friendless as 
 he was. 
 
 Yes, she remembered telling him to row. But not like that ! 
 That she had never meant. Oh, stupid, stupid men, that 
 never could understand ! Always to tell them in clumsy, 
 serious words, like books like papa talked. And Niki 
 Karatayef oh, how dare he ! And Petya, quiet, stupid 
 Petya he had seen it, and she never, though it was clear as 
 day ! 
 
 Perhaps she had been too busy looking after Elisaveta and 
 Sasha. But it was no use leaving them to look after them- 
 selves; that was impossible. Elena, too, was constantly in 
 need of a helping hand with Shipagin. Moreover, she herself 
 was anxious to see the two of them safely in harbour, lest 
 they should disturb her own delicate navigation. When all 
 was said and done, girl-friends were more trouble than they 
 were worth. . . . But Niki ! Had he net been wildly jealous
 
 " ROW, PETYA, ROW !" 49 
 
 of Petya every hour of every day he had been at Priluka 
 thought of nothing but showing off before her 1 Sasha was 
 her brother he didn't count and Shipagin was less of a man 
 to her than Mikailo the coachman. But Niki Karatayef was 
 her vassal, her page, as Petya was. And he now dared, after 
 letting her read in his eyes as in an open book, he dared to set 
 her aside for Sonya ! 
 
 For Sonya I a child, younger than herself by more, far more 
 than the mere year between them. Katya had always been the 
 one to decide and arrange; not only here at Priluka, but also at 
 Kief and Odessa, she had determined whom Sonya should meet 
 or avoid, care for or detest. It had never occurred to either 
 of them that it ever could be otherwise. And Katya was 
 fond of her little sister as of a child entrusted to her care, and 
 whom she would protect and provide for when the time should 
 arrive. . . . Sonya had never spoken a word to her of Kara- 
 tayef. The two of them had acted entirely of their own 
 guidance, and Heaven alone could know how far matters had 
 gone between them already. . . . 
 
 Was it possible that Sonya should suddenly and secretly, 
 while Katya had been occupied with other things, have de- 
 veloped into an independent being ? It was not to be thought 
 of ! The change could never have escaped her own watchful 
 eye. No doubt she felt a certain amount of satisfaction at 
 the attention paid her by Karatayef; was glad, perhaps, to 
 find that she had now, like other girls, a knight of her own. 
 But she could never mean anything serious . . . impossible. 
 She must have recognized that she had no right to Karatayef 
 that he belonged to another. . . . 
 
 But if Sonya, in her innocence and ignorance, might be 
 pardoned, there was no like excuse to be advanced for Niki 
 Karatayef. He could not hide from himself the fact that he 
 was guilty of desertion and dire offence. Katya scarcely 
 knew herself whether she cared for him or not. He was big 
 and strong, but heavy. The others said he was clever, but of 
 this Katya had formed no personal opinion. And yet there 
 was something about him which attracted her ; the dumb and 
 helpless affection in his eyes, the restrained but constant 
 admiration with which he followed her everywhere; and 
 perhaps also some half -conscious, instinctive feeling that if 
 ever he should be brought to burst out into flame for her sake, 
 
 4
 
 50 KATYA 
 
 he would be in that hour transformed into a splendid giant, 
 furious with love. . . . For he was not like Petya. Easy to 
 lead, perhaps, as he, but deeper and more complex, more 
 violently a man. . . . 
 
 And he had dared to be faithless ! Never before had any 
 man of whose existence she took the slightest count, dared to 
 oppose her absolute will. As far back as she could remember 
 she had always been victorious, and as often as any had dared 
 to oppose, she had succeeded in humbling them. This was a 
 wrong unbearable, not to her feelings, for these were as yet 
 unknown to herself, in a kind of unconscious chrysalis state, 
 but of all that part of her which had already reached the full 
 height of its womanly development her pride, her vanity, 
 her covetousness of power, her thirst for admiration and 
 homage. She knew, beyond all doubting, that Karatayef had 
 -been all she craved of him : a page at her court, a singer beneath 
 her window. And now he had broken his bonds, and wore 
 another lady's favour. 
 
 Katya stamped her foot. " Oh, he shall pay for this !" 
 
 Petya's letter lay on the table. She took it and crunched 
 it in her hand ended by tearing it into little pieces. 
 
 Oh yes, she would write ; she would keep her promise. But 
 not now; later on, when she had time. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 
 
 GENERAL NIKOLAI FEODOROVITCH KARAT AYEF'S residence in 
 Odessa was one of the finest old houses in the Konnaya, not 
 far from the archiepiscopal palace. He had bought the place 
 cheaply some years before, at an auction where it had formed 
 part of the property of a ruined landowner, and moved in to 
 the apartments on the ground floor, letting out the upper part 
 of the house as offices. 
 
 The rooms were spacious and lofty, almost palatial. All the 
 woodwork was of oak, and richly carved, the arms of the former 
 owner, who had died a bankrupt, and his family, formed a 
 frieze round the panelled walls of the great hall which had 
 served as a dining-room. A few silk hangings that stiil
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 51 
 
 remained were stained and faded with age and neglect, the 
 parquet flooring had been repaired, rendering the original 
 pattern vague and irregular. The paint and gilding which had 
 formed so rich a part of the decoration had peeled off in places, 
 leaving dark spots and piebald patches on ceiling, walls and 
 doors. The edges of the double windows were fringed with 
 dirty fragments of felt and wadding left over from the winter. 
 General Karatayef was only sixty, but his appearance was 
 that of a weary old man continually shivering with cold ; he 
 had a horror of draughts, and, in spite of the huge stoves, it 
 was always a matter of difficulty to thoroughly warm the 
 great dilapidated place. 
 
 It was solely in order to please his wife that General Kara- 
 tayef had agreed to move into the old house. He himself 
 had not the slightest sympathy with her desire to live in an 
 atmosphere of faded splendour, in a place fashioned by a 
 taste foreign to their own, and filled with alien memories. But 
 Anna Dimitrievna was of a dreamy, somewhat sentimental 
 nature, inclined to what her husband was wont to stigmatize 
 as " romantic nonsense." This, and her weakness for ferreting 
 out, for purposes of charity, the most extraordinary human 
 oddities which she could find in the slums about the harbour, 
 were the only faults with which Nikolai Feodorovitch ever 
 had occasion to reproach her. She had been a good wife and 
 a faithful companion in the nomad years when, as a penniless 
 captain, he was shifted continually from one miserable garrison 
 in Siberia to another, or yet to more comfortless posts in the 
 Caucasus, Poland, or White Russia. She had been the tenderest 
 of mothers to their only child, spoiling him a little, perhaps 
 and giving him some share of her own romantic fancy, yet 
 not so much but that the boy grew up to be her pride, not 
 undeserving, either, of her love. Nikolai Feodorovitch was 
 not sentimental, but he loved his son in a way, regarding him 
 as the dearest of the treasures he had won ; the one true joy of 
 his life, at once the cause for which he had stooped so low, and 
 the object of his uttermost endeavour. 
 
 General Karatayef did not shut up the house after his wife's 
 death; he remained on in the old place, now more decayed 
 than ever, using only two of the apartments himself. Niki's 
 room was always ready to receive him, but he rarely came, 
 and it was perhaps just as well. Anna Dimitrievna's room
 
 52 KATYA 
 
 had been left untouched since the day of her death; her last 
 piece of embroidery lay on the work-table with the needle 
 marking where the work had ceased for ever. The dust 
 accumulated; Nikolai Feodorovitch kept the place locked; 
 his servant Osip, an old soldier who, with his pock-marked wife, 
 looked after the establishment, were forbidden to enter, and 
 the General himself only visited the room at Easter and on 
 certain anniversaries. Here were collected all the little 
 trifles Anna Dimitrievna had cared for; her books, mostly 
 cheap editions of religious works and translations of love- 
 stories of all countries; her letters, and the portraits of her 
 parents, a colonel of gendarmes, and his wife, who had their 
 home far off on the Mongolian frontier ; her wedding dress, and 
 the few modest jewels she had possessed from her childhood 
 before she rose to rank as the wife of the wealthy General 
 Karatayef . One thing in particular he remembered a trea- 
 sure he had found on the evening when he had closed her 
 eyes. It was a mahogany cabinet, a heavy, awkward piece 
 of furniture which they had dragged about with them over 
 two continents on sledge and waggon, ship and rail; an 
 ancient heirloom, which she had filled from top to bottom 
 with things that belonged to Niki. There were clothes of his 
 from earliest childhood to the last year at school, his favourite 
 toys, and every letter he had ever written to her, from the 
 first Easter and birthday greetings, childishly scrawled on 
 big sheets of paper with coloured pictures of saints in one 
 corner, to the half-grown boy's recitals of holiday adventures 
 and requests for pocket-money. 
 
 General Karatayef let the whole lie undisturbed, and locked 
 the cabinet carefully before he left the room. It was perhaps 
 on that very evening that he had decided to leave the place 
 untouched until he himself should close his eyes for ever or 
 until he should have attained the object *of his life. However 
 that might be, he made no attempt to find another home. 
 Osip and his wife knew their master, and forbore to ask. 
 Everything remained as it was. Nikolai Feodorovitch wore 
 out his modest, hermit-like existence amid the faded luxury 
 of the lofty, silent rooms, close to the locked and hidden shrine 
 where the dust of years grew thick and ever thicker. 
 
 Despite this atmosphere of ancient memories and dusty 
 dilapidation, the house in the Konnaya had its advantages.
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 53 
 
 It was conveniently situated, for instance, for the General's 
 daily walk down to the great new suburb which was growing 
 up to the north-west of the old harbour, intended to provide 
 healthy and comfortable housing for the working population 
 which the quick development of industry and transport 
 attracted in continually increasing numbers to the town. And 
 among the General's tenants on the upper floors of the house 
 itself was the firm of Mandelberg and Krushofski. Y. I. 
 Mandelberg, the head of the firm, was one of Karatayef 's most 
 intimate acquaintances the only one, indeed, with whom he 
 appeared to be on terms of intimacy at all. It was so easy to 
 send Osip upstairs with a message, asking Mandelberg to come 
 down for a moment. And it was no trouble to glance through 
 the grating of the hall-door as the staff left at the end of the 
 day, and call to the chief, who always came down last, with 
 his fat portfolio under one arm, and who generally made a 
 point of pausing for a moment outside in case his services 
 should be needed. 
 
 The walls of the room which served General Karatayef as 
 office and dining-room were draped with frayed silk tapestries 
 that had once been crimson, but were now the colour of rotten 
 strawberries. Against this background hung a series of maps 
 and plans, showing the streets and house-blocks of the new 
 suburb, with the regular curve of the coast and its wooded 
 slopes dotted with villas that stretched away southward from 
 the town itself. At the end of the railway-line close to the 
 Alexander Park, where planes and acacias swayed in the breeze 
 on the farthest slope of the plateau, lay the warehouses and 
 the great military depots, then the berths of the Levant and 
 Orient boats, the quarantine station, shut in by a long, wide 
 mole, curving like a great horn far out to sea, and almost 
 embracing the distant breakwater. Farther on lay the new 
 harbour, enclosed by two short stone arms, the coal quay, and 
 the flat beach broadening out beneath the plateau with its 
 innumerable houses; above it lay the Nikolaiefski, the great 
 boulevard which runs through the wealthiest quarter of the 
 town, planted with shady planes, and cooled by the breeze 
 from the sea that stretched away below to the horizon. Here 
 lie the Imperial Palace and the official residences of the highest 
 civil and military authorities in the Government of Kherson ; 
 here stands Dimitrenko's mighty monument to Katherine II.,
 
 54 KATYA 
 
 flanked by statues by Patiomkin, Subof, Volant and Ribas, 
 and here the mighty stairway of two hundred steps leading 
 down to the harbour and the sea. 
 
 But the harbour-works are continually extending out 
 towards the north-west. Beside the coal quay lies the local 
 traffic harbour meeting-point for all the coast steamers of the 
 Crimea, the Caucasus, and th? Azof. Up in this corner, to the 
 north of the old Odessa, the foreshore widens, the cliff receding 
 far inland, forming a most convenient point for extensions of 
 the harbour itself which, owing to the increasing demands upon 
 its accommodation, has thrown out branches towards the 
 north-west. And the town itself runs down to make connec- 
 tion with the harbour-works ; the appearance of the plain is 
 altered, and house after house has sprung up among the grey- 
 green, salt-bitten fields that lie open to the east wind. The 
 suburb of Peressip has already its shops and regular streets, 
 but the builders had found it impossible to cope with the 
 demands of the working population drawn to the spot by the 
 local traffic harbour and its branches. 
 
 The maps in General Karatayef's room showed, with a 
 wealth of detail, the progress of this growing suburb. There 
 were three main colour groups blue, indicating the parts of 
 Peressip already built upon and occupied; red, representing 
 the ground belonging to the General himself; and green, 
 showing the extent of Prince Rilinski's undertakings. The 
 green, which covered considerably more space than the red, 
 ran in a long, broad stretch parallel with the coastline a 
 magnificent view, as Advocate Mandelberg had been careful 
 to point out to the Prince at the time. The red did not 
 touch the coast, but lay in a compact circular patch nearest 
 the old town and the harbour-works. Different shadings 
 showed the extent to which building had already been carried 
 out. The red grew darker and darker ; only a little corner 
 towards the north remained pale pink; the green began in a 
 fine deep shade, but paled away to a scarcely distinguishable 
 tinge of colour. The whole thing could not be more clearly 
 demonstrated. 
 
 General Karatayef had asked his agent to kindly step in and 
 look at the maps, in order to verify their agreement with his 
 own calculations. 
 
 " Perfectly correct, Your Excellency; correct to the last
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 55 
 
 detail, as indeed " with a bow, " was but to be expected. 
 A most accurate if I may say so, a most remarkably 
 accurate piece of work." 
 
 " Very well, then, Yakof Isakovitch, and now be so good 
 as to tell me how far we are at present according to your 
 reckoning." 
 
 " As regards Your Excellency's part of the undertaking " 
 he pointed to the red patch " all that we have ready for 
 occupation is already let. The remainder . . ." 
 
 " Yes, yes; never mind about my part. Go on." 
 
 " With Prince Rilinski's ground the case is er somewhat 
 different. It is an extensive undertaking; more so than I 
 myself had imagined. I do not mean to say that there is no 
 demand for such tenements as are completed I could have 
 let them several times over at a good rent but the tenants 
 complain of the cold in winter and the heat in summer. The 
 houses are quite unprotected, facing as they do right on to 
 the sea. The demands of the lower classes in this respect 
 have greatly increased of late. I should be sorry to attach 
 too much importance to such complaints ; tenants are always 
 difficult to please. But, in my opinion, Prince Rilinski is 
 making a great mistake in not hurrying forward the work on 
 the remaining part of the ground with all speed." 
 
 The agent followed with his finger the course of the narrow 
 green stripe that paled away towards the north. " The 
 success of the whole plan depended from the first upon its 
 being carried out at once as a whole, and as speedily as 
 possible, in order to force the stream to follow us, and obtain, 
 so to speak, the best of the human material on which we are 
 dependent before others began elsewhere. Already new 
 houses are springing up behind ours. Your Excellency will 
 see here " he pointed again to the map " how we are 
 actually protecting the buildings which are growing up like 
 mushrooms to the west of us. I consider this competition 
 highly dangerous, apart from the great loss in interest 
 which is an inevitable result of the slow realization of the 
 ground." 
 
 " You have, no doubt, pointed this out to Prince Rilinski ?" 
 
 " Emphatically, Your Excellency most emphatically. I 
 felt it my duty to do so." 
 
 " Then why does he not hurry forward the work ?" There
 
 56 KATYA 
 
 was, perhaps, the slightest possible gleam in the General's 
 little sharp eyes, but he chose that moment to bend down 
 and pick up an invisible thread from the floor. 
 
 " Prince Rilinski has entered upon an undertaking which 
 is beyond his means. Such of his securities which were easily 
 negotiable have been swallowed up long ago; also the loans 
 raised on the ground itself and the buildings. To tell the 
 truth, I was surprised when he on the last occasion handed 
 me a certain sum in stocks. I did not know he possessed 
 them." 
 
 " Neither did I," murmured the General. A fragment of 
 thread in a crack of the floor seemed to have attracted his 
 attention. 
 
 " However, there they were, and we managed to stave off 
 difficulties once more; but, in my opinion, we have now 
 touched bottom. Prince Rilinski has not sufficient capital 
 available to carry through a plan of such dimensions. Of 
 course a man of his rank, and with his possessions, would 
 always be able to raise the necessary funds, more especially 
 when he has such friends as Your Excellency . . ." 
 
 " Never mind the friendship, Yakof Isakovitch. Go on." 
 
 " But he will be obliged to take measures of some sort, 
 and that without delay. To stop the work now would mean 
 more, in my opinion, than Prince Rilinski can afford to lose. 
 Between ourselves, Your Excellency, it would be ruin and 
 for a man with his name ..." 
 
 " Am I right in supposing that a further, say, one million 
 two hundred thousand roubles would be sufficient to ensure 
 the completion of the work in something like a couple of 
 years ?" 
 
 " Exactly what I have reckoned out myself." 
 
 " And Prince Rilinski's unencumbered property would 
 suffice to cover the amount ?" 
 
 " Most assuredly. Even without the family jewels, the 
 estate itself would be sufficient. And security of that sort 
 cannot run away." 
 
 " H'm." The General thought for a moment. " May T 
 ask, Yakof Isakovitch, has Prince Sergei Arkadievitch never 
 let fall any expression of er surprise at your acting simul- 
 taneously for himself and me ?" 
 
 " Never. To tell the truth, I do not think Prince Rilinski
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 57 
 
 attaches much importance to formalities of that sort, if, 
 indeed, he notices them at all." 
 
 " It just occurred to me, that's all; for if there should let 
 us say, if you yourself should entertain any doubt as to the 
 possibility of continuing to fill the double position, I should 
 at once be willing, for my part, to dispense with your services, 
 highly as I value them." 
 
 The agent looked startled. " Dispense with . . ." he 
 stammered. " Your Excellency surely cannot think . . ." 
 
 "Well, perhaps I didn't." The General played with his 
 cross. " But rather than deprive Prince Rilinski of your 
 assistance, I would ..." 
 
 Advocate Mandelberg interrupted hastily : 
 
 " I hope to be able to retain the confidence of both my 
 honoured clients." 
 
 " Very well. I hope so likewise." The General emphasized 
 the word. He might have saved himself the trouble; nothing 
 of importance escaped the attention of Yakof Isakovitch. 
 " And if this, shall we say, mutual hope should be fulfilled, 
 then I do not doubt " again a thread upon the floor caught 
 the General's eye ; he bent down to pick it up, and continued, 
 still stooping " that the Kherson Bank will place the one 
 million two hundred thousand roubles at the Prince's dis- 
 position; against proper security, of course, at a reasonable 
 interest. I should also consider it very natural that the 
 necessary negotiations and the preparation of the documents 
 should be entrusted to your firm-." 
 
 " Really, Your Excellency, this is most kind . . . most 
 kind . . ." 
 
 " I would, however, like to point out one thing, Yakof 
 Isakovitch. You said a moment ago, if I remember rightly " 
 there seemed to be a remarkable number of threads on the 
 floor " that it would not be necessary to include the family 
 jewels. As far as I am aware, we are dealing with very con- 
 siderable sums of money; it might therefore be as well to 
 reckon with the family jewels as well." 
 
 " Your Excellency may rely upon me." 
 
 " Not I alone, Yakof Isakovitch, I hope. Remember that." 
 
 The General stroked his shiny head. " Prince Rilinski would 
 
 also like to be able to place his continued confidence in you." 
 
 " Of course, of course," saidjihe agent hurriedly. " And
 
 58 KATYA 
 
 when does Your Excellency suppose that the Kherson Bank 
 will open the credit account ?" 
 
 " My good Yakof Isakovitch, need you really ask ? The 
 Kherson Bank will be ready to meet any demands that may 
 be necessitated by the Prince's building projects, as soon as 
 it has approved the proffered security." 
 
 " It might still be possible to raise further loans on the 
 ground and material ..." 
 
 " Other banks might possibly be induced . . . but the 
 Kherson Bank I scarcely think so. I must leave it entirely 
 to the Prince's man of business to advise what is best to be 
 done in the circumstances." 
 
 The agent bowed. " Has Your Excellency any further 
 commands ?" 
 
 " I hope I have not been taking up your time. One word 
 more. It would be a pity, would it not, if such a sound and 
 promising enterprise should fall to pieces, and a man of such 
 position be brought to ruin, just as his children charming 
 children, delightful young people were about to make a 
 start in life ?" 
 
 " Most regrettable, indeed. A catastrophe, not only for 
 himself and his family, but for the whole of the Russian 
 nobility." 
 
 " I do not doubt, Yakof Isakovitch, that you will be able 
 to make this clear to Prince Rilinski, and er " again the 
 General's fingers sought the floor " with all possible delicacy, 
 you understand ? Delicacy is absolutely necessary." 
 
 " I think I understand Your Excellency's meaning." 
 
 " I think so too. It is never wise to act recklessly, Yakof 
 Isakovitch." 
 
 " Perfectly right, Your ..." 
 
 " And so we will take care to avoid any hasty action on 
 either side." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Thanks, Yakof Isakovitch. That is all for to-day." 
 
 General Karatayef took his meals alone, with Osip to wait 
 at table. Osip's livery consisted of an ancient uniform much 
 the worse for wear, the original buttons of which had gradu- 
 ally given place to substitutes of metal, bone, and horn. All 
 the year round, without regard to temperature or weather, 
 he wore knee boots of heavy greased leather. His thick,
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 59 
 
 greyish hair, cut short at the neck, and his great curly beard, 
 gave him the appearance of something between a worthy 
 priest and a wild man of the woods. Both he and his wife, 
 Kapitolina, who acted as cook, were from the neighbourhood 
 of Tomsk in Siberia. Both had been in the service of the 
 family for many years, and Kapitolina could still remember 
 the days in her late mistress's time, when she had had a maid 
 under her; there had even been a couple of years when she 
 had two. But neither she nor Osip had ever regarded Odessa 
 as anything but a stage on the long wandering which it had 
 fallen to their lot to undertake together with General Kara- 
 tayef, and both looked forward hopefully to the day when 
 they should return to their little village in far-away Siberia, 
 where friends and kin waited to hear of all the wonders they 
 had seen in their long exile. 
 
 Kapitolina's cooking was not perhaps remarkable for 
 variety. One thing, however, was certain no woman in 
 all the wide lands of Russia could make a better cabbage 
 soup ; therefore she made it every day, and whatever happen- 
 ings might shake the world, whatever intricate plans be 
 threading the loom of General Karatayef's brain, he might 
 be sure that Kapitolina waited him with cabbage soup. 
 It is possible that even Nikolai Feodorovitch, for all his 
 Spartan habits, might after a space of years have ventured a 
 mild protest against this daily evidence of Kapitolina's skill 
 in a somewhat restricted field of activity, where her talent 
 had long since been acknowledged as unsurpassed; but what 
 could such protest profit him, or any ? Kapitolina would 
 have pointed out, with most authoritative consciousness of 
 right, that there were ways and ways of preparing cabbage 
 soup, according as the ingredients were chosen and blended. 
 There were various sorts of stock, as there were various kinds 
 of cabbage; one could add sour cream or omit the same. 
 Dumplings might or might not be included dumplings, 
 which in themselves provided scope for far-reaching originality 
 and fertile resource. But even the transcendent art of Kapi- 
 tolina had not yet attained to the making of bricks without 
 straw; the palace in the Konnaya was permeated with a 
 perpetual aroma of cabbage, the incense, as it were, of that 
 ancient shrine. 
 
 As soon as the meal was over, and Osip had cleared away,
 
 60 KATYA 
 
 General Karatayef turned once more to his maps and calcula- 
 tions. Then came to him that which he had known must come 
 the thing that he had fought, night after night, for years 
 an irresistible temptation to the most innocent of vices, against 
 which some conscience in himself continually strove in vain. 
 
 Restlessly, anxiously he walked up and down the patch- 
 work floor, the crazy parquet-work creaking with many voices 
 under his feet. It seemed a chorus of subdued demoniac 
 laughter a jeering whisper of malicious fiends that followed 
 every way he went. He moved in narrowing circles round 
 the writing-table with its roomy cupboards, strode manfully 
 away, as in irrevocable decision . . . only to return, with 
 footsteps of a thief, the scornful whisper sinking with his 
 lightened tread to a sibilant breath of exulting anticipation. 
 
 Hastily he opened the cupboard, and drew forth cloth and 
 canvas, coloured silks and needles, scissors, thimble, frame, 
 and all the requisites appertaining to fine embroidery. 
 
 It was ridiculous; he knew it. Night after night he had 
 told himself that it was incompatible with his dignity; he 
 would never be able to face his brother officers if it were 
 known. But the work had become a passion, at once a 
 stimulant and a sedative ; he clung to it as men cling to drink 
 or drugs. His wife was the only being who had ever known 
 the secret that was his torture and his delight ; and now that 
 Anna Dimitrievna was dead, the passion grew and grew upon 
 him in his solitary life. Neither Osip nor Kapitolina knew 
 of it; he worked locked in his room, and gathered up with the 
 utmost care all traces of his doing, as if it were a crime hence 
 his eternal habit of bending down to pick up invisible pins 
 and threads. He saw about him everywhere the tell-tale 
 fragments from these secret solitary orgies, in which he revelled 
 night after night. 
 
 Some accidental circumstances had led him, years ago, in 
 a distant garrison, to try his hand at the work, and little by 
 little the interest had grown upon him; he ventured upon 
 tasks of increasing difficulty. It was an innocent occupation, 
 and served to while away the idle evenings at his lonely post 
 in a fashion that appealed to his solitary nature and his fond- 
 ness for accurate work. Before he knew it, it had become a 
 part of his existence; the hobby became an art. He felt 
 himself both painter and poet as he bent over his work. The
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 61 
 
 sins and sorrows of his life, its hopes and endeavours, were 
 woven into those long hours spent with needle and thread; 
 the patterns and pictures that sprang from his imagination 
 served in some manner to relieve the weight of heavy thoughts 
 upon his mind. 
 
 He sold all that he did; the value of his work seemed to 
 him in no wise lessened by the fact that it became a ware 
 upon the market. Neither poet nor painter refuse to accept 
 money for the products of their art, even though fashioned 
 out of their heart's blood, and it was no inconsiderable 
 amount which he received ; all that he did was well paid for. 
 Although his only sister was long since dead, he continued 
 to do business with the dealers in her name, and the non- 
 existent lady, whose address was c/o General Karatayef, 
 Konnaya 37, Odessa, had a considerable account with some 
 of the leading firms in Moscow and St. Petersburg, Warsaw, 
 and Kief. She had lived and died without ever knowing 
 the fame of her handiwork in the chief cities of Russia. 
 
 And so the work went on. Night after night saw General 
 Karatayef seated alone in the lofty, silent room, playing upon 
 the scale of silks, now with fierce colours of a cry, now in pale 
 hues of plaintive whispering, such music as his mastery 
 ordained, and as the needle played through the tight-drawn 
 stuff his thoughts wandered many ways. 
 
 The wealth he had amassed had not been honestly obtained. 
 No wonder that all sorts of rumours were current as to its 
 origin. An officer of supplies and transport whose family 
 was of second-rate provincial nobility, and without any con- 
 siderable private means, could not become a Croesus without 
 exciting envious report ; but there was no danger of any open 
 accusation. From the day when Nikolai Feodorovitch had 
 made his first doubtful transaction with the contractors, he 
 had, in his then subordinate position, taken good care to render 
 himself unassailable from above: All through his period of 
 service he had invariably considered the interests of both 
 superiors and inferiors; his principle was never to compromise 
 himself alone. However much he might demand for himself, 
 there was always something over for the others. His natural 
 acumen and methodical instinct forbade him ever to risk such 
 action as might attract attention, or involve the cutting-off 
 of any source of profit. The troops served by his depart-
 
 62 KATYA 
 
 ment never had occasion for more complaint than was cus- 
 tomary and general ; the horses were not poorer, the material 
 no worse. His system was carefully adapted, not to the means 
 of the State, but to those of the contractors, and even here 
 he showed a moderation which won confidence on all sides. 
 Nothing was farther from his plans than the attainment of 
 immediate wealth by the sudden execution of a big coup. 
 He was no gambler; his enterprise was based on far-seeing 
 calculation. His accounts were admirable ; never the slightest 
 error or irregularity came to light, for they contained none 
 such, being simply and consistently false in every detail, 
 from beginning to end. Prices somehow rose wherever 
 Karatayef happened to be, and fell as a rule when he was 
 transferred. He went about the country, spreading corrup- 
 tion on his path, but everywhere exhibiting a zeal and power 
 of organization which secured him comparatively rapid pro- 
 motion. Not a single decoration to which his position at 
 any one stage might entitle him was lacking at the proper 
 moment ; and if there were some few who were aware that this 
 quiet and unassuming man had amassed a fortune before 
 reaching the rank of colonel, he in his turn knew so much 
 about themselves that it was wiser to keep silence. Kara- 
 tayef had made his master-stroke in connection with some 
 irregularities at a certain garrison in Poland. Shortly after 
 his arrival he had discovered that an extensive system of 
 falsification had been in operation there for years. He him- 
 self desired no sort of co-operation with superiors or inferiors 
 who went to work in such a clumsy fashion; on the other 
 hand, he had no wish to make enemies. He contented him- 
 self, therefore, with dropping a hint, in the strictest secrecy, 
 to the Central Administration in St. Petersburg. A high 
 official shortly afterwards made his appearance at the garri- 
 son, exposed the whole fraudulent system, and received all 
 the honour of the discovery. But Karatayef's reputation 
 increased considerably in the proper quarters, and promotion 
 followed swiftly, and as he rose in rank his share of fraudulent 
 profit increased pro rata ; while, on the other hand, his way of 
 living seemed to become more and more modest. None save 
 the initiated would have believed him to be a wealthy man, 
 and long before envious competitors or honest colleagues 
 could work their way through the entanglement of complicity
 
 63 
 
 with which he had surrounded his position, he evacuated it 
 himself. No one dared to touch him, both on account of the 
 difficulty of formulating any distinct charge, and also owing 
 to the number of others who would be implicated in his fall. 
 General Karatayef was allowed to live in peace, unmolested 
 and unobtrusive, as he most desired. He was an episode of 
 the past, nothing more. 
 
 A)l this infamy, however, this long career of fraud and 
 consequent humiliation, was not without its cause. Nikolai 
 Feodorovitch was avaricious, yet the vice was rather acquired 
 than inherent. He had been guilty of acts which might have 
 sent him in chains to Siberia, yet he was not a criminal by 
 nature. It was not for himself he had cheated and stolen, 
 it was not his own happiness which he sought to build up 
 with money fraudulently obtained. He had sinned for love, 
 abasing himself for the sake of his son. 
 
 It began before the boy had yet begun to go to school. 
 Anna Dimitrievna worshipped the child in a manner which 
 Karatayef called " extravagant and unhealthy," but which 
 yet touched him deeply; and he let himself be carried away 
 by the hopes he himself cherished for his son's future. He 
 was at that time stationed at a garrison in one of the Siberian 
 provinces, a scattered and disorderly settlement, with sheds 
 for houses, morasses instead of streets, lavish of space and 
 careless in construction, like the hastily flung-up townships 
 on a gold reef. The only connection with the world was by 
 means of horsed messengers, who took weeks to cover the 
 distance between the garrison post and the nearest station 
 on the great Trans-Ural route, by which the mails from 
 Russia reached them at intervals of months. The winter 
 cold made life a misery for nearly half the year, while in 
 summer myriads of mosquitoes tortured the immigrant 
 sojourner to the verge of madness some, indeed, beyond, 
 for cases of insanity were far from rare. These were the 
 surroundings in which he spent the first part of his married 
 life, and looking forward into the future he saw before him 
 nothing but a continual wandering from place to place, all 
 differing little from this present desolation, all more or less 
 remote from comfort and civilization, and always the same 
 unchanging greyness of monotony the pitiful littleness of 
 outlook which is the penniless officer's inevitable fate.
 
 64 KATYA 
 
 The boy should not be doomed to such a life. His know- 
 ledge of the power and greatness of his country should not be 
 drawn merely from the crushing sense of immeasurable extent 
 which was the first and last impression of the endless journeys 
 when they sledged from town to distant town through lands 
 inhabited by unknown peoples. His son should not be one 
 of those subordinate officers or minor civil servants who are 
 thankful for a mean position in some remote and deadly 
 outlying station, where they can exist in slow stagnation till 
 they die. 
 
 Karatayef had vowed to himself and his wife that he would 
 thrust aside every obstacle that barred the boy's path upward 
 to higher levels of society than that to which his parents 
 belonged and to greater opportunities of development than 
 had fallen to their lot. And as the boy grew up both felt 
 more sure that he would not disappoint them ; he was quick 
 and intelligent, loving and obedient towards his parents, and 
 though now and then capable of violent rage, he always sought 
 to make amends, and often fell into deep abstracted fits of 
 meditation. It was clear that he was destined to develop 
 into something beyond the average. 
 
 Karatayef's first attempts at fraud were immediately suc- 
 cessful, and gradually both he and his wife began to aim yet 
 higher for their son. They sent him to a first-class school, 
 taking care that the boy should lack nothing in the way of 
 good clothes and pocket-money, enabling him to take his place 
 among the sons of well-to-do families. From the very be- 
 ginning he was to be prepared for a splendid career ; nothing 
 was too good for him. At last, when the time came for him 
 to make his choice of a profession, he declared his wish to 
 enter the diplomatic service. The Near East was at the 
 time after the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78 a point of 
 interest throughout Russia. The ancient conflict between 
 Turk and Slav was a burning question among the youth of 
 the day. It was not surprising, therefore, that Niki Kara- 
 tayef selected the Orient as the sphere for his future career. 
 Both his parents rejoiced at this decision, which was entirely 
 in accordance with their own hopes; they recognized, however, 
 that it was no longer sufficient merely to provide the money 
 for their son's expenses from month to month. The day 
 would come when he would need a fortune at his back. Kara-
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 65 
 
 tayef had already considered this necessity, and set himself 
 now to prepare ways and means of meeting it. Again his 
 demands increased, until at last General Karatayef, seeking 
 money for his son's career, surged forward like an avalanche. 
 
 Anna Dimitrievna was to some extent in his confidence. 
 She never asked, nor did he ever volunteer the slightest word, 
 as to whence the money came ; but he knew that she guessed 
 the truth. He knew also that in her inmost heart she thanked 
 him. Despite her ceaseless anxiety, she never dared to reach 
 out a hand to check the career which in her eyes continually 
 threatened them with ruin. She prayed to God for forgive- 
 ness, but she prayed also that He would avert the danger 
 that threatened her husband on his path of stealth. And the 
 years went on, and still no retribution overtook him, until 
 at last she grew to believe that God had heard her prayers. 
 Karatayef remembered how on her death-bed she had whis- 
 pered to him that God had been merciful to them for the 
 sake of their great love, and pressing his hand had thanked 
 him. 
 
 She had suffered much in the course of their life together. 
 But the long years of fraud had also left their mark on him ; 
 the ceaseless secret planning and striving for more and ever 
 more, the cautious disposition of his gains, which he was forced 
 to place in such a fashion as should render it impossible for 
 any to perceive their extent. And all the time incessant care 
 and toil were necessary to preserve and even heighten his 
 own good name ; his son would need a father whose rank and 
 position were unimpeachable. The slightest stain upon his 
 own reputation would be pitilessly transmitted, the loss of 
 his good fame would destroy all that he had striven to build 
 up. It was a heavy burden that weighed upon his shoulders, 
 and it grew heavier to bear as years went on. Moreover, the 
 goal of his ambition was ever moving forward new possi- 
 bilities, new needs, continually arising, and, wearied and 
 ageing as he was, new effort was unceasingly demanded. 
 
 He had amassed a considerable fortune, he had attained 
 the rank of General, and bore all the decorations which per- 
 tained to his rank. No shipwreck had hitherto occurred 
 upon his perilous voyage. Once or twice he had fancied for 
 a moment that it was at an end; but only for a moment. 
 Fresh demands immediately made themselves apparent. The 
 
 5
 
 66 KATYA 
 
 boy must have friends and companions of the right stamp, 
 influential acquaintances, the entree to first-class houses, and 
 the prospect of an advantageous alliance within that circle 
 of society to which he was to belong. General Karatayef 
 had already achieved much in his fight for his son's future; 
 here, however, it seemed impossible to go farther. Neither 
 he nor his wife were in any way equipped for a purely social 
 campaign ; he knew only too well that he himself, in spite of 
 his rank and wealth, could never gain access to the houses 
 whose doors he wished to open for his son. Even though 
 no one dared to raise any accusation against him, he was yet 
 in a way a detrimental, an eccentric, whose antecedents would 
 not bear too close examination. 
 
 It was at this juncture that he heard, through his tenant 
 and man of business, Mandelberg, that Prince Rilinski was 
 considering a proposal put forth by the former concerning 
 the investment of certain capital in a building enterprise at 
 Peressip. General Karatayef found no difficulty in obtaining 
 from Mandelberg the fullest information as to the Prince's 
 social and financial position. A meeting was arranged, and 
 at the conclusion of their conversation the Prince had politely 
 requested permission to pay his respects to the General's 
 wife. A week later Anna Dimitrievna left a card on Princess 
 Rilinski. In a short time General Karatayef had proved 
 himself so valuable an adviser, and rendered such assistance 
 to the Prince in business matters, that the latter was quite 
 charmed, and asked his wife to show the queer old fellow 
 and his family such little kindness as occasion might permit. 
 
 Connection once made, the two families came steadily into 
 closer contact with one another. The General discussed ex- 
 tensive business operations with the Prince in Mandelberg's 
 office, and Nikolai Nikolaievitch Karatayef became a close 
 friend of Alexander Sergeievitch Rilinski. The young Prin- 
 cesses were rarely seen, being then at school in Kief. The 
 Princess herself had too little in common with Anna Dimitri- 
 evna to permit of any close intimacy between the two ; more- 
 over, the latter felt that she would be out of place in such 
 circles as the Rilinskis, and was more than satisfied with 
 seeing her son admitted there. 
 
 General Karatayef toiled forward towards a new goal. 
 Never had his needle worked so busily or so well as in those
 
 THE OLD HOUSE IN THE KONNAYA 67 
 
 evenings after he had become Prince Sergei's friend, adviser, 
 and creditor. 
 
 His newest objective was distant and difficult of access; 
 the more need, then, to carefully order his preparations for 
 the march. General Karatayef intended nothing less than to 
 obtain supreme power over Prince Rilinski and all his house. 
 This great noble, with all his appanage of wealth and influence, 
 was to be harnessed to the car of Niki's fortunes, and draw 
 him whither he would go ; and after the boy's first summer at 
 Priluka the preceding year, when the young princesses had 
 made a deep impression on him, General Karateyef was more 
 than ever determined that no obstacle from that quarter in 
 the way of his son's career should prove insurmountable. 
 If Niki wished to marry a daughter of that house, then marry 
 her he should, though all Priluka rose in arms against him. 
 It was necessary, however, to have such weapons himself as 
 should be capable of crushing all resistance. The day might 
 come when a decisive battle would be inevitable; he would see 
 to it that there should be no possibility of doubt as to the issue. 
 
 Karatayef would have been happy if his wife could have 
 lived to see this final triumph of their hopes a triumph 
 which, he felt assured, was now rapidly approaching. Another 
 year, and Niki would have passed his final examination; 
 together with Prince Rilinski's son, he would receive an ap- 
 pointment in the Russian Foreign Office, as an introduction 
 to the splendid career which awaited him. Young Alexander 
 Rilinski's circle would also be Nikolai Karatayef's, and the 
 latter would be richer, as he was abler and stronger than his 
 friend. He would but need to lift a little finger to a Princess 
 Rilinski ; she would be his for the asking. His way was effec- 
 tively cleared of all obstruction; he could stride forward a 
 conqueror. 
 
 It was rarely that General Karatayef made any error in his 
 calculations, and never had he shown more than in this last 
 intrigue in which he was entangling the affairs of Prince 
 Rilinski. The master of Priluka was in the toils ; the final 
 meshes had that very day been drawn close about him. Man- 
 delberg had understood. 
 
 It was a joyous pattern of the brightest hues that grew into 
 being that night. A wanderer, aged, beneath a chafing load,
 
 68 KATYA 
 
 sighted at last the splendid goal of his desire : behind the stulti- 
 fying endless march, and close ahead the prize and long-sought 
 rest. 
 
 Far into the night the old man sat at his work. The crumb- 
 ling glory of the ancient, lofty rooms closed like a grave about 
 the secret of his life. The grey dust gathered and grew thick 
 above the hidden memories that had been his dead wife's 
 treasure. All that was past. And over the future of their 
 son gleamed a star of promise. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 
 
 THE great road that runs from Kursk by way of Tshernigof 
 to Warsaw one of the ancient Polish military roads crossing 
 the Dniepr and its tributaries ran close by Priluka. It 
 was a mighty way, broad enough to take a dozen hay -waggons 
 abreast. In places it resembled a waste field rather than a 
 road. Grass grew in the middle, and at times it was advisable 
 to keep to this central part, the more used sides being full of 
 treacherous holes, or kneaded into bogs extending to the nearest 
 ditch. Like most Russian roads, it was left to look after itself. 
 A heavy rainfall left great lakes between the hills, where 
 travellers driving through were fain to choose between standing 
 upon the seats of their conveyance or sitting knee-deep in 
 water. A few weeks' sun meant hauling axle-deep in loose, 
 dry sand, which left the horses breathless and sweating at the 
 end of half an hour. Parts of the road were flat and bare, 
 vaguely bounded by the faint lines of the overgrown ditches 
 on either side ; in others, as at Priluka, its sides were shadowed 
 by great old oaks and birches, while the centre was overgrown 
 with grass and field flowers. It was the loveliest road, save 
 to drive on. Even Mikailo's art at times would not suffice to 
 cope with its vagaries. Local landowners drove after dark with 
 outriders bearing torches ahead to find the most passable 
 portions of the way. For hundreds and hundreds of versts 
 it ran through rich and fruitful land, connecting flourishing 
 villages and great commercial centres. No one of all who used 
 it ever dreamed that it might be otherwise than as it was.
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 69 
 
 One afternoon towards the end of August Katya stood 
 carefully instructing Mikailo to gather together as many as 
 might be of the best singers on the estate to a vocal perform- 
 ance down by the lake as soon as the family had finished 
 dinner. The programme was to consist of old Cossack songs, 
 both gay and plaintive. Mikailo was the acknowledged local 
 leader in matters of song, both by virtue of his voice and on 
 account of his inexhaustible stock of native melodies. Katya 
 bade him mark that the singers were on no account to 
 approach beyond the landing-stage at that distance the 
 music would be heard at its best from the veranda, whither 
 she intended to invite the whole party as soon as the meal 
 should be over. 
 
 While the two stood talking, Ivan came running up to 
 announce that a flock of gipsies were pitching camp on the 
 road just outside the park. Having delivered himself of the 
 news, he hastened on to tell the steward, in order that instruc- 
 tions might be given for the precautions customary on such 
 occasions the locking of gates and doors, the placing of 
 guards over poultry-runs, stables, and barns. Tatiana Feo- 
 dorovna must also be advised of the event. Dimitri would 
 have to keep watch at the main entrance, and men would be 
 sent out to look to such of the horses and stock as were not 
 within doors. . . . There was plenty of time before dinner. 
 Katya determined to pay a visit to the gipsies' camp. 
 
 And there was indeed nothing she could do at the moment 
 in company with any of the others. Sasha never left Elisa- 
 veta Miliukin's side, there was no longer any need to find 
 pretexts for bringing them together ; wherever his own resource 
 or courage failed, Elisaveta herself came to his assistance. 
 And she managed it so nicely, too. Katya was by no means 
 sure that Elisaveta was really a bit more clever, for instance, 
 than Elena Dolgoruki. But her manner ! She was never 
 embarrassed, never at a loss; knew, to the nicest shade of 
 tone, how to say the right thing at the right moment. Her 
 self-possession was a constant marvel to Katya, who was 
 always flying from one thing and springing to another. It 
 was easy enough to make fun of Elisaveta and call her " the 
 statue," but there was something about her which the other 
 lacked a something only to be acquired by wide experience 
 and extensive knowledge of the world ; a something by no
 
 7 o KATYA 
 
 means to be despised, even if one had lived in Odessa and 
 been to school at Kief. 
 
 It was quite in keeping with Elena's character to blush at 
 the mere sight of Shipagin. The little stupid was completely 
 blind to the fact that Vladimir Alexandrovitch was already 
 beginning to weary of her society solely on account of 
 the mental exertion which even the idlest flirtation in- 
 volved. 
 
 " Rather tired, y'know, Elena Ivanovna," drawled Katya 
 in reminiscent imitation. This constantly recurring speech 
 of Shipagin's had become a byword among his companions 
 a part of their holiday slang. All used it with a recklessness 
 that sooner or later must lead to discovery, and Katya fore- 
 saw a tearful crisis when the matter should at last become 
 plain even to Elena. Never mind. After all, the child was 
 too good to be thrown away on Vladimir Shipagin. 
 
 And Niki, too, could well dispense with Katya's aid. She 
 knew exactly what had happened the moment she had left 
 the others together. Karatayef had swooped down on Sonya, 
 exerting himself to the utmost to make her forget how he had 
 scarcely dared to look at her as long as Katya had been there. 
 Oh, he was faithlessness itself ! Katya felt she was growing 
 to hate him more and more. And yet it was he who occupied 
 her thoughts. For he was not to be won as she would win 
 him; to be held in subjection, or at least under a kind of 
 vague suzerainty, the terms of which she alone should have 
 power to dictate and revise at will. She did not know, did 
 not even think, of what was to happen afterwards, if she 
 succeeded in recalling him to allegiance, and making him once 
 more her page, as Petya Orloff . The triumph of victory was 
 all she cared for; she saw no farther ahead. For her, as yet, 
 nothing existed beyond the conquest itself. 
 
 Karatayef made stubborn resistance. She laid traps for 
 him, and he discovered them in time. She tempted him by 
 tokens of favour, choosing him for her companion in the most 
 difficult and dangerous of their holiday plans; he strove to 
 avoid her. For a couple of days she left him severely alone, 
 apparently unconscious of his existence, only to realize, to 
 her intense mortification, that he seemed to thrive on her 
 neglect. And whenever she attempted to actively annoy 
 him, Sasha immediately came to the rescue.
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 7! 
 
 Karatayef was stronger than she had thought stronger 
 than she had imagined men could be. 
 
 One thing, however, she had achieved: she had made him 
 recognize his own faithlessness. She could mark in his every 
 tone and gesture how keenly he was on his guard in her 
 presence. There had come into his manner something new 
 an air of watchful self-control and hard-won mastery, which 
 gave him a certain exasperating attractiveness. When she 
 forbore to harass him, his eyes seemed to thank her for the 
 respite. And he, in his turn, refrained from everything that 
 could be construed as a challenge. As long as she and Sonya 
 were together, he was most careful to avoid awaking her 
 suspicion; but no sooner was she out of the way than he 
 devoted himself to Sonya, disregarding all the others. At 
 times he seemed to seek a refuge by her side, as panting men 
 turn from the battle for a breathing space within the compact 
 square. 
 
 Katya knew it all; she could not fail to see. And she hated 
 him. 
 
 But the fight was not yet lost ; she was not so easily defeated 
 in the struggle for a thing that she desired. And Priluka 
 was unendurable with the others making love all hours of 
 the day, and she had not even Petya. . . . 
 
 When Katya reached the road, she found the gipsies busy 
 about their camp. The tents small, dirty bivouacs were 
 pitched on the grass-grown centre of the road, twigs and 
 branches were piled together to serve as fuel, and the waggons 
 were drawn up in an enclosing circle. The band numbered 
 a hundred or more. There were children everywhere, the 
 gleaming bronze of their bodies, scantily covered with rags, 
 bleached to a nondescript uniform colour by the sun. The 
 women, old and young, wore necklaces of coloured beads and 
 rings of heavy metal on finger, wrist, and ankle. The men were 
 dressed as Russian peasants, in gaudy blouses and dark 
 trousers bagging out over high boots of greasy leather ; many 
 wore ear-rings, and false stones glittered on their grimy fingers. 
 Men, women, and children shouted and swore as though the 
 whole ragged, dark-skinned band were preparing to fly at one 
 another's throats. Numerous as they were, however, and 
 prodigal of space, they made but a small island in the broad 
 bed of the road.
 
 72 KATYA 
 
 As Katya stood drinking in the noisy bustle of the camp, she 
 became aware that from the park and from the fields beyond 
 young girls were flitting one by one in among the gipsies' 
 tents. They moved with an anxious, stealthy haste, their 
 kerchiefs drawn far forward over their faces, and disappeared 
 behind bivouacs and waggons, only to emerge a few moments 
 later and hurry back with all speed. 
 
 " Banna ! Little lady, Barina !" Women and children 
 were crowding clamorously around Katya where she stood. 
 " Come and learn your fortune, Barina ! Come, little lamb, 
 and let me tell of the pretty fellow that is waiting for you ! 
 Come, little lady, and hear your fortune, like the others." 
 Brown hands were pulling at her dress in all directions. 
 
 Suddenly the circle broke and scattered, with screams and 
 much abuse, flying before a man in a green blouse, who 
 flourished a whip, entirely careless as to whom he struck. 
 
 " Out, swine, away ! Scurvy beasts !" . . . The newcomer's 
 vocabulary was rich and effective. " Can't you see the 
 Barina is a real Barina ? Dare to come near the little Prin- 
 cess dogs, devils !" 
 
 " Excellency," he went on, as soon as the field was clear, 
 " we are honest folk see, here is our passport for us all. It 
 is a true paper see the Eagle there ; from the police at Kursk 
 forty-seven roubles, Barina, fairly paid. We are going to 
 Tshernigof for the horse-fair and we've no fodder for our 
 beasts; they're dying already. Look only, Barina, your own 
 eyes can see they are starving." 
 
 " Indeed I can see nothing of the kind." Katya was en- 
 joying all this immensely. 
 
 " Can't see, Barina ? Ah, the horses, fine horses, beautiful 
 beasts the swiftest horses in all Ukraine, Barina ! And I 
 rode that chestnut there myself the other day. A shower 
 came up behind, and there was a peasant's hut seven versts 
 ahead. We reached it, Barina. What did we care for the 
 rain behind. No drop of it that touched us, save only the 
 chestnut's tail a little. And now you can't see they're starv- 
 ing, Barina ?" 
 
 " But what is all this to do with me ?" 
 
 " I want fodder, Barina. I will pay with roubles; not false 
 money ; no, true roubles, as our Little Father the Tsar uses 
 himself. But the cursed pigs of peasants there won't sell to
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 73 
 
 us won't even let me come in and show my money. And 
 we're honest folk, Barina, with papers, real papers ..." 
 
 " This is Priluka. My father is the Prince Rilinski." 
 Katya was not quite sure to whom the " pigs of peasants " 
 was intended to refer. 
 
 " I knew it I knew it ! Didn't I tell these dogs so when 
 they crowded round you, Princess ! And His Highness 
 would never let my splendid horses stand and starve before 
 his very eyes ! Go in, little Princess, and tell them to sell 
 me fodder; but cheap very cheap !" 
 
 " I can get you what you want, perhaps, if you will pay for 
 it. But you must ..." Katya was in the throes of a nascent 
 idea. 
 
 " Speak, Princess, speak, little lamb !" 
 
 " Bring me the best and cleverest fortune-teller in the camp." 
 
 The gipsy's eyes gleamed craftily as he turned and called 
 to one by name. A brown-skinned woman, with thin black 
 wisps of hair, and beads and rings innumerable, came limping 
 up to Katya, and looked her over with cunning, shifty eyes. 
 
 " You shall have fodder at a reasonable price," said Katya 
 firmly. " In return, I wish you to tell the fortunes of the 
 party whom I shall bring here to the camp this evening. 
 Tell them the usual stories of love and money and fortune 
 and so on ; but when you see me place myself beside a young 
 and handsome ..." 
 
 She broke off. A smile of impertinent understanding 
 showed on the faces of the two gipsies. 
 
 "... a young Barin, tall and dark then you will tell his 
 fortune, and show him that a great danger is threatening him 
 say it in your own words, as you like because he is false 
 to himself and false to others. You must say more than that, 
 of course, just the same as to the others, only on no account 
 forget the words I said : ' False to yourself and false to others.' 
 You understand ?" 
 
 " Truly, little lady. False to yourself and false to others." 
 The old woman thrust forward a mendicant palm. 
 
 " You will get nothing yet. But keep your word, and say 
 as I have said, and I may have something for you afterwards." 
 
 " Is that all, Barina ? Is there nothing more you would 
 have ?" The gipsy chief waved a generous hand as though 
 he were the lord of unimagined treasures.
 
 74 KATYA 
 
 " You shall have your fodder. But do not try to enter 
 Priluka. We have fierce dogs and many brave men on guard. 
 The fodder shall be sent out to you here." 
 
 " But cheap, Barina, cheap. We have but a few kopeks in 
 all the world . . ." 
 
 Katya was already out of hearing. Hurrying to the 
 steward, she wrought upon him with fair words until he con- 
 sented to accompany her to Mikailo, who in his turn was bent 
 to serve her will. Katya had done her part. The deal 
 involved, as it turned out, a mighty dispute between Ivan 
 and Mikailo on the one side, and all the hundred gipsies on 
 the other, over a matter of some twelve or fifteen kopeks; 
 but by that time Katya was standing dressed behind her chair 
 at the dinner-table, making the sign of the cross towards the 
 eikons in the corner. 
 
 The party at dinner that evening was augmented by the 
 person of Mandelberg, the advocate from Odessa, who had 
 arrived in the morning, and had been closeted with the Prince 
 all day. A room had been prepared for him; there was no 
 knowing how long he might be going to stay. Prince Sergei 
 was distrait and evidently displeased; the Princess looked 
 anxious and tired. Altogether it was not a lively table to 
 sit down to. 
 
 " Papa, there are gipsies a great camp on the road just 
 outside." 
 
 " Again ? Really, the district is overrun with these 
 creatures. I presume the necessary precautions have been 
 taken ?" 
 
 " Are they real gipsies can they sing ?" asked Elisaveta. 
 Her acquaintance with gipsies was in the main restricted to 
 the troupes of Tsigani she had seen in the fashionable res- 
 taurants of St. Petersburg and Moscow. 
 
 " Hardly think so," said Sasha. " Stealing is more in their 
 line." 
 
 " And fortune-telling," added Katya. 
 
 " Oh, how lovely !" exclaimed Elena. " I should like to 
 see them !" 
 
 " We might go out and have a look after dinner," suggested 
 Katya, " though to tell the truth, I'm rather tired, Elena 
 Ivanovna." There was a slight drawl perceptible in the last 
 words. The initiated had difficulty in restraining their
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 75 
 
 mirth. Shipagin pricked up his ears, but Elena did not 
 seem to have noticed anything. 
 
 " Are you tired, dear ? You don't look it a bit. And you 
 must go out there with me after; I daren't go alone." 
 
 " Let's all go, shan't we ? Papa and mama too, and 
 M. Mandelberg of course." 
 
 The man of business felt himself addressed. " If my 
 presence will not inconvenience you, mademoiselle," he 
 observed politely, " I admit that I should be delighted to see 
 these er ..." 
 
 " Really, M. Mandelberg, how could your presence possibly 
 inconvenience me in any way ?" Elisaveta Miliukin was not 
 the only one who could play the great lady. The Princess 
 glanced a little anxiously at her daughter. Prince Sergei was 
 inwardly delighted the girl was a true Rilinski the blood 
 of her race his race, was apparent. 
 
 " I meant er I should say er I have not the 
 honour . . ." 
 
 " Naturally." Katya was implacable. She felt instinctively 
 that the visit of this Jewish agent man was in some way 
 responsible for her father's ill -temper and her mother's 
 anxiety, and she was not inclined to conciliate the enemy. 
 " But I am sure my father will not object eh, papa ?" 
 
 " Not in the least, my child. But, for my own part, I must 
 beg to be excused. To be frank, a gipsy encampment has 
 no longer the charm of novelty for us older people. What 
 do you say, my dear ?" 
 
 The Princess also preferred to remain at home. " But it 
 will be dark, my dears, before you get there. I do hope you 
 will be careful. One never knows what those people may do." 
 
 Advocate Mandelberg was understood to ask whether they 
 picked pockets. He betrayed, perhaps, the slightest touch 
 of personal anxiety, but it was quite enough for Katya. 
 
 " Indeed they do !" she returned with conviction. " Not 
 papers, perhaps they can't read, you know. But watches, 
 and chains, money, rings anything bright, genuine or not. 
 So you had better look to your family jewels, M. Mandel- 
 berg." 
 
 It was meant as a jest, with a spice of malice, and as such 
 the young people received it. But Mandelberg grew pale, 
 while the Prince flushed, and could not conceal a certain
 
 ;6 KATYA 
 
 nervousness. The whole party was suddenly aware that 
 Katya's words had made a painful impression. 
 
 " But can they really teh 1 fortunes ?" Elisaveta Miliukin 
 came to the rescue with her infallible tact. 
 
 " All nonsense !" asserted Sasha. " They prophesy splen- 
 did marriages and lots of money, live happily ever after, 
 and all that. Their fortunes are always the same, only 
 better or worse, according to what they expect to get for 
 them." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that," said Katya. " A lot of our 
 people here will tell you that the gipsies' prophecies have 
 come true, and they can read anyone's character in the lines 
 of their hand-palmistry, you know, as if they had known 
 them for years." 
 
 " Katya, I'm half afraid to go, after all," whispered Elena. 
 " I don't think I dare." 
 
 " Yes, it's wonderful how people cling to silly supersti- 
 tions," went on Sasha. " Niki and I know a lady in Moscow 
 who never does anything of the least importance without 
 consulting cards and fortune-tellers." 
 
 And for the rest of the meal nothing was spoken of but 
 fortune-telling and superstition. 
 
 When Katya shortly after led her party out to the gipsy 
 encampment, Advocate Mandelberg had already taken an 
 opportunity of slipping away to his room and there divesting 
 himself of watch, ring, and purse one could not be too 
 careful retaining only some small change in one pocket. 
 Relieved of his valuables, he set off with the gaily chattering 
 party, taking care, however, to keep at a respectful distance 
 from Katya. There was something about that young lady 
 which inspired him with more respect than he felt for anyone 
 else at Priluka. 
 
 Night had fallen, and the full moon came sailing up over 
 a blue-black sky all sown and spread with stars. No wind 
 was stirring. The trellised branches, with their lace of leaves, 
 hung void of motion in the velvet dark, and every slightest 
 sound of voice or footstep seemed strangely sharp and clear 
 against the surrounding silence. The dew was falling; glow- 
 warms lit and lost their tiny light among the wetly gleaming 
 grass. 
 
 The party from Priluka moved down towards the entrance
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 77 
 
 to the drive. A stir of voices came to them ere they reached 
 it, and the glow of fires flung up among the trees. Beyond 
 the gate lay the broad road: white stretches of sand, and 
 dark patches of grass, flecked with redly lucent points, 
 between which dark figures came and went. The smoke 
 stood high in thin, straight columns, tinged golden at the 
 base and fading upwards, to blossom out again in silver of 
 the moon. Beside the tents stood horses here and there, 
 dark silhouettes against the vaguer dark, motionless, silent 
 in the moving noisy throng ; the waving flames flung now 
 and then a light upon their eyes that gleamed obediently 
 again, as did the polished beads and metal rings worn by the 
 brown, half -naked women and children. 
 
 " Splendid !" exclaimed Niki Karatayef. " I wouldn't have 
 missed this for anything !" 
 
 A little gipsy girl came up to them, and without a word, 
 caught hold of Katya's dress and led her through the maze 
 of tents and horses, fires, and moving men, the others following. 
 
 Suddenly the child disappeared. Katya became aware of 
 an old woman sitting at the entrance of a tent, staring into 
 the fire before her, as though lost in meditation, and unaware 
 of the presence of observing strangers. 
 
 " Delightful old thing !" said Katya in French. " What 
 a picture ! Can you tell fortunes, little mother ?" she went 
 on in Russian. 
 
 The old hag raised her head slowly, as one awaking from 
 a trance, brushed her draggled hair back from her brow, and 
 looked earnestly at Katya before speaking. 
 
 " Who art thou, little one ?" she said at last, " that darest 
 to question Fate ?" 
 
 " This is quite theatrical," thought Katya. 
 
 Behind her Elisaveta was murmuring quiet wonder in 
 French ; Elena opined in English that it was awfully interesting, 
 while Sasha laughed profanely. 
 
 " Give me your hand, and let me see if I dare tell you what 
 I read there." 
 
 " I won't be the first," said Katya, turning round in search 
 of a sacrifice. " Who will ? Vladimir Alexandrovitch, you 
 begin." 
 
 Shipagin moved forward, and Katya slipped behind the 
 others.
 
 7 8 KATYA 
 
 " As long as the old pig doesn't paw me about, I don't care." 
 
 Shipagin spoke in insolent Russian, and the gipsy sent him 
 a malignant glance. 
 
 " I see," she began aloud, bending over the outstretched 
 hand, " riches from birth, and dark shadows on the gold. The 
 heart-line weak, and soon lost altogether. There is a marriage, 
 but it comes late, and is no* happy. Pride, pride, and an 
 unruly tongue that will bring troubles even in youth." 
 
 " Humbug, old witch !" said Shipagin angrily, withdrawing 
 his hand. No one laughed ; all felt that there was something 
 strange about it, after all. 
 
 The old woman stirred the fire, and seemed again to become 
 unconscious of her surroundings. 
 
 " Who next ?" said Katya, with somewhat less assurance. 
 
 " Not me," declared Elena. " I dare not." 
 
 " Let me, then," said Sasha, stretching out a hand. 
 
 " I see a good and comfortable home, but wealth comes 
 later. The line of love is level and strong; the woman you 
 care for loves you, and you will both be happy in a far land." 
 
 " What did I say ?" jeered Sasha. " The old story." 
 
 Katya came forward next, offering her hand boldly. 
 
 " I see ... it is a hand I have seen . . . no, that was a man's. 
 A broad, deep line of love, that runs from early youth to age. 
 You doubt a man's affection . . ." 
 
 "I ?" Katya shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. 
 
 "... But he loves you, as you will see, if you are faithful 
 to him. He brings you happiness, and wealth, and honour, 
 but not until you have passed over seven rivers and through 
 five towns." 
 
 " Nothing more ?" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 The noise about the camp seemed to increase. It was as 
 if men were quarrelling in several places. 
 
 Elena Dolgoruki was impressed. " If I only dared !" she 
 whispered. " It's quite exciting. Nikolai Nikolaievitch, 
 won't you ?" 
 
 " There's nothing to be afraid of." Karatayef stepped 
 forward with outstretched hand. Katya moved to his side. 
 
 "I see wisdom and power, that will lead you farther than 
 now you think. The heart-line deep, but wavering. Great 
 happiness awaits you, but a danger threatens. The happi-
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 79 
 
 ness is stronger, but it will yet be destroyed if you continue 
 to be false to yourself and false to others." 
 
 " False ?" Karatayef repeated the word incredulously. 
 
 " False to yourself and false to others," said the old woman 
 again, and let his hand fall. 
 
 Karatayef turned to Sasha with troubled eyes. " False ! 
 Sasha, did you hear ?" His voice was strangely pained. 
 
 " Look here, Niki, don't you be a fool. We've had enough 
 of this nonsense." 
 
 Sonya laid a light hand on Karatayef's sleeve, and spoke 
 with quiet confidence : 
 
 "Never mind about that, Nikolai Nikolaievitch; I don't 
 believe a word of it." 
 
 Katya wanted Mandelberg to try, but the latter resolutely 
 declined. Elisaveta Miliukin did not care about it either, 
 and Elena could not make up her mind. 
 
 " Come," said Sasha, " let us go back." 
 
 But Katya stayed behind just long enough to let one rouble, 
 and another, fall into the gipsy's lap. 
 
 " For you and your chief," she said. 
 
 The girl and the old woman exchanged a smile, as one 
 conspirator with another. 
 
 As soon as the party had re-entered the park, Mandelberg 
 excused himself on the ground of having work to do. The 
 others discussed the evening's adventure ; Elena in particular 
 was deeply impressed. 
 
 " Sh !" explained Karatayef suddenly. " What's that ?" 
 
 All stopped to listen. 
 
 " Heavens 1" said Katya, starting up. " It's Mikailo and 
 the others. I'd forgotten all about it ! Come along, out 
 on the veranda; hurry !" 
 
 The Prince and Princess were deep in conversation when 
 the young people arrived. They asked a few perfunctory 
 questions as to the visit to the gipsies' camp, and soon all were 
 silent, listening to the singing, each in his own individual mood 
 or train of thought. 
 
 The moon was now a golden disc above the lake, throwing 
 a broad path of glimmering light across the dark of the water. 
 The sloping lawn was sown with intermittent stars of glow- 
 worms at their twinkling play, and great bats flitted silently
 
 8o KATYA 
 
 between the tree-tops and the sky. The cool, quiet air was 
 scented with the breath of stocks and heliotrope in the beds 
 below the terrace. High over palace, park, and lake was 
 spread the infinite far dark of the star-pricked August night. 
 Down by the lake the singers poured their fountain -stream 
 of song a richly varied flow of melody. 
 
 " Sword and saddle, and trumpet's call 
 My comrades wait. 
 
 Head on my breast, soft arms about my neck, 
 Could I but stay ! 
 
 Could I but stay, to dance once more with thee 
 By Dniepr's flood, 
 
 Where first I saw thee, one of many maids, 
 And loveliest ; 
 
 Red beads about thy neck ; red beads that paled 
 Beside thy lips, 
 
 And twenty hues of silk that hid and sought 
 In the silk of thy hair . . . 
 Could I but stay, and aid thee homeward lead 
 The geese at eve, 
 
 From fields where golden sunflowers turn their heads 
 To watch thee go ... 
 
 Could I but stay, and see thee make once more 
 Sign of the cross 
 
 When as thou prayest to the holy saints 
 For me and thee . . . 
 
 Could I but stay ... Ah, no ! ... Saddle and sword, 
 And trumpet's call. 
 
 Farewell, farewell ! Thy Cossack leaves thee, love, 
 That fain would stay ! ' ' 
 
 The song changed to a trembling breath a shiver as of 
 sentinel-leaves that mark the nearing storm. 
 
 " Art happy with her ? Can'st with her forget 
 Great Dniepr's flood poured strong toward the sea ? 
 Or hearest thou yet its sobbing in the reeds ? 
 
 " I was thy chosen and I waited thee 
 At Morn, when golden spires first caught the sun ; 
 At Even, when the poppies closed in sleep . . . 
 I stood and watched for thee upon the slope 
 That rises steeply from the river bed : 
 Early and late I watched, to ever be 
 The first to greet thee. 
 
 "Ah, I see thee now ! 
 Low thunder of swift hoofs upon the sand, 
 And then thyself, with waving lance raised high, 
 And wind-torn cloak outstreaming far behind. . . .
 
 FATES AND FORTUNES 8l 
 
 1 ' Can'st thou forget thy river, or hearest thou yet 
 The sound of Dniepr sobbing in the reeds ? 
 
 I prayed for thee ; I brought thy mother gifts 
 When thou wast absent ; by thy father's side. 
 I knelt, and listened to his praise of thee ; 
 In winter-time I plucked sweet-smelling twigs 
 To deck the manger where thy steed had fed ; 
 In summer hung thy lance with little wreaths. 
 I gave thee all my thoughts, and all my heart ; 
 All of myself that lives I gave to thee 
 Can'st thou still walk with her beside the flood 
 And hear sad Dniepr sobbing in the reeds ?" 
 
 Nikolai Karatayef rose quietly from his seat and stole off 
 into the park. Sasha's hand had found Elisaveta's in 
 the dark. Elena Dolgoruki's eyes were full of delicious 
 tears. 
 
 " Ukraine, songs of Ukraine," murmured Prince Sergei, 
 and sighed. A quiet thankfulness came over him as his wife 
 softly stroked his hand. 
 
 " I must go down and thank Mikailo," said Katya. " They 
 musn't stop yet." The moonlight showed her lithe, elfin 
 figure flitting whitely down the lawn towards the lake. 
 
 On a seat far in among the trees sat Niki Karatayef deep 
 in thought; " False !" the old gipsy had said. It was all 
 very well for Sasha to talk of humbug and nonsense: Niki 
 himself found it but too true. " False to yourself and false 
 to others." He knew now that it was Katya whom he loved, 
 now that he had forsaken her for Sonya. And now that Sonya 
 had begun to imagine he had chosen her, he felt each day 
 more drawn towards her sister. 
 
 He would go away. It was impossible to stay on like this 
 at Priluka; he was full of shame at his own weakness. His 
 heart was bursting with longing for Katya Katya, whom he 
 himself had thrust aside. 
 
 The moonlight stole in upon his hiding-place, flinging 
 bright silent coins of light upon the ground, and silvering 
 now a leaf, now a moss-grown twig. Down by the lake the 
 song poured forth again, telling of pain that pays all love's 
 delight. 
 
 " False to yourself, and false to others." 
 
 He buried his head in his hands, wishing that he could hide 
 from himself and all that he cared for, 
 
 6
 
 82 KATYA 
 
 Katya went through the park looking for him. She found 
 him sitting so, with covered eyes. Stealing lightly past, she 
 halted a little way beyond, where the full moonlight showed 
 her clearly visible. Then, standing with her back towards 
 him, she broke a little twig sharply across her knee. 
 
 The boy looked up. 
 
 It was she his queen, his heart's proud mistress, the lithe 
 and delicate creature there in the moonlight. To grasp her 
 now, and make her his. . . . There rose in his mind a picture 
 of Sonya, as he had seen her out there in the camp, a quiet 
 and gentle thing ... he heard again the sobbing plaint of 
 the river in the song. . . . Despairingly he stretched out his 
 arms toward Katya, as though imploring aid. 
 
 But no words came. 
 
 She had not once turned his way. And now, with a little 
 resolute movement of the head, she glided off along the 
 moonlit path. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 
 
 IT was late in September; all was quiet now at Priluka. 
 Sasha and Nikolai Karatayef had returned to Moscow, as 
 Petya Orloff to Odessa, all to commence the hard work of 
 that last year's study which was to prove decisive for their 
 careers. Katya had been invited to accompany Elisaveta 
 Miliukin to Paris, and spend the winter there. She was 
 delighted at the idea, for her own sake; moreover, as she 
 whispered to Sasha, his cause would then have an advocate 
 on the spot. There was little need of this, however; the 
 matter was apparently settled already. Sonya was to stay 
 with Elena Dolgoruki at the latter's home in St. Petersburg 
 until Christmas, possibly longer. Katya did not envy her 
 sister this holiday, which did not promise any great excite- 
 ment. Elisaveta said the same, and she had tried it. But 
 it would be a good thing for Elena to have Sonya with her. 
 The poor child still seemed to fancy herself in duty bound to 
 sorrow for Shipagin, who had neglected her disgracefully 
 towards the last, and had left without saying a word. Nor 
 was he the only one.
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 83 
 
 The Princess was to remain alone at Priluka, at any rate, 
 for the present. Prince Rilinski had important matters of 
 business to attend to in Odessa, and would escort the young 
 ladies as far as Kief. It was extraordinary, thought Katya, 
 how papa seemed to have aged of late. . . . 
 
 The party made a stay of two days in Kief. Both Katya 
 and Sonya had much to do before they could consider them- 
 selves in any way equipped for their respective visits to 
 the Dolgorukis and to the Embassy in Paris. Fortunately, 
 Count Dolgoruki came in person to fetch his daughter and 
 her guest. This was, at least, something in the way of 
 society for Prince Sergei, though Vera Nadeshda's husband 
 could scarcely be called interesting. Katya found nothing 
 better with which to compare him than a piece of lacquer. 
 She counted the number of times he opened his mouth to 
 make a remark at dinner, and had got as far as two when 
 they rose from table. 
 
 But the girls had no time to waste at the hotel with the 
 Prince and the Count. Katya had a list of at least thirty 
 different articles which she must have, and she simply loved 
 shopping. Moreover, Elisaveta's taste was marvellous. And 
 there were other things to be done. Whatever happened, 
 Katya was determined to make one pilgrimage if the others 
 would not come, she would go alone to her " man of 
 dreams," an old friend from earlier years to wit, St. 
 Vladimir, with his lighted cross. Also they must, now that 
 they were full-fledged and free, visit together the places 
 where they as schoolgirls had wandered arm-in-arm. As it 
 turned out, however, the three others were quite ready to 
 accompany her to St. Vladimir, especially as the weather on 
 the last day of their stay proved fine and bright, with clear, 
 clean air and brilliant sunshine. On the way they called at 
 a confectioner's to lay in a supply of the candied fruits for 
 which Kief is famous, and at a bookseller's, where the for- 
 bidden French novels of their school-days were now attain- 
 able without difficulty. 
 
 " Katya," said Elisaveta, as they went up through the 
 gardens beside the Dniepr towards the statue, " can you 
 remember when your father used to come on his visits of 
 inspection ? Honestly, I've never been so afraid of anybody 
 in my life as I was of him. And when I came out to you at
 
 84 KATYA 
 
 Priluka, I remember thinking as we drove up that in a minute 
 or two I should have to meet Prince Rilinski. I assure you, 
 I felt like a little girl again. My heart was going like any- 
 thing !" 
 
 " Oh, what nonsense, Elisaveta ! You always used to come 
 out top . . . and at Priluka, too, you managed splendidly," 
 added Katya, with a sly smile. 
 
 " I can see your father now," broke in Elena, "when he 
 came into the great hall with his shining buttons and a little 
 sword, and ever so many orders on his breast. He looked so 
 splendid so different altogether from the old priests, and 
 that little Frenchman, Launay, who always used to get so 
 excited. And you did tease him, Katya !" 
 
 " And, do you know," Elisaveta continued, " I used to envy 
 you and Sonya, for you can't deny that whenever your father 
 came the Prioress always took care only to ask you things 
 you knew. I remember one year we had been reading Victor 
 Hugo, and Katya used to recite ' Waterloo ' till Monsieur 
 Launay sat with tears in his eyes, and we all believed what 
 you said about going on the stage; and then, when the Prince 
 came and talked about the affectionate interest which the 
 Empress took in our studies, and how we ought to strive by 
 diligence, etc., etc. . . . then the Prioress got up and called 
 ' Ekaterina Sergeievna,' and I knew she was going to ask for 
 ' Waterloo,' and she did !" 
 
 ' Waterloo, morne plaine comnie une onde, ..." began 
 Katya, and they all laughed together. 
 
 It was a delightful ramble, with varied threads of memory 
 interwoven with the girlish confidences of which they had so 
 rich a fund to share since the summer at Priluka. Here, in 
 the place where they had been at school together, amid the 
 recollections of childish joys and sorrows and girlish longing, 
 they felt a sense of freedom and expectation, each conscious 
 that the others shared her own delight at the emancipation 
 from dull duties and irksome restraint. No school-bell now 
 to wake them from their dreams. They were free free to 
 dream of all the wondrous things life had in store. They 
 hung on each other's arms, their hearts beating together, 
 their young mirth fresh as a song of birds in early sunlight. 
 
 As they reached the top of the hill where the statue stands, 
 looking out over the river, Katya grew quiet and thoughtful.
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 85 
 
 The place was for her not only the sum and monument of all 
 the ancient memories of that holy city. As far back as she 
 could remember it had been a solemn, almost mystic, symbol 
 of the history of her home, her race, Ukraine, Russia itself 
 . . . the strange ineffable atmosphere that breathes through 
 art and song, and lends its hue to all reality. 
 
 High above Kief, " Mother of all Russian cities," stands 
 the monument of the famed Boyar who took a Byzantine 
 Emperor's daughter to wife, and, adopting her faith, baptized 
 his people in the Dniepr's flood. The saintly Prince looks 
 towards heaven, his left hand holds the crown, and in his 
 right is a mighty cross, lit up at evening with a hundred tiny 
 lights, that men may see from far and wide around. Far 
 below, at the foot of the steep slope, lies the river in its bed 
 of white sand. The ships and boats that ply upon its waters 
 seem small as toys from the height. The houses on the 
 farther bank appear as dots upon the far-spread plain that 
 reaches out to where the dim horizon joins earth to sky. 
 On both sides of the cross-crowned heights and far around 
 on lesser hills, rise towers of church and convent, gleaming 
 in gold, and emerald, and sapphire. Here is the heart of 
 Little Russia, the rich and beautiful city for whose sake 
 thousands upon thousands have bled and died on the fields 
 of Ukraine. Time after time fierce hostile hordes have 
 harried here and plundered, as Dniepr River in the spate of 
 spring spews up its ice against the fruitful land. Here, native 
 Princes have waged internecine war, and Tartar bands laid 
 waste the countryside; Cossacks have fought, and Polish 
 armies won, until at last great Russia took the spoil. Here 
 is the capital of Ukraine, the home of the Cossacks, and 
 Mazeppa's kingdom, where the wild and boisterous troopers 
 guarded the frontiers of their land, now for a Polish King, 
 now for a Muscovite Tsar, but always under their own flag, 
 against pagan or Christian, as the need might be, and as their 
 Hetman bade. Here they have danced and sung on Dniepr's 
 banks, and prayed to Holy Vladimir to have them in his 
 keeping. 
 
 When dusk begins to fall on Kief and all Ukraine, the Cross 
 of St. Vladimir is lighted up, to shine far out across the land 
 where the noble Prince of Rurik's race led his people to the
 
 86 KATYA 
 
 true faith. To the returning wanderer the cross smiles 
 brightly in welcome, and he who leaves his land turns back 
 to send a last reverent greeting to the holy beacon, and 
 receive a blessing he may carry far. 
 
 In summer-time great swarms of insects wing through the 
 dark towards St. Vladimir's Cross, and many a moth finds 
 death at its toot. In spring and autumn birds of passage are 
 drawn to the mysterious light, whereunder not a few may lie 
 with broken wing at break of day. But at midnight the light 
 is extinguished, and only the high stars shine over the holy 
 city and the Dniepr's flood that wends throughout Ukraine 
 towards the sea. 
 
 The girls stayed long on the hill, loth to leave ; and as they 
 turned back once more to the noise and bustle of the town, 
 Katya felt that, in spite of the twenty-four hours' journey 
 yet before her ere she would reach the frontier of Russia, it 
 was here that she had said her real farewell to her home and 
 her own land. 
 
 The party scattered next day in all directions. Prince 
 Rilinski was going south, to Odessa; Count Dolgoruki took 
 Elena and Sonya northwards to St. Petersburg; Elisaveta and 
 Katya, accompanied by the former's maid, went westward to 
 Warsaw, where they were to be joined by a courier of the 
 Embassy returning from St. Petersburg, who would act as 
 escort for the remainder of the way an entirely superfluous 
 precaution, thought the two girls. Elisaveta had made the 
 journey many times before, but parents were always so eager 
 to "make arrangements," and never seemed to remember 
 the difference between grown-up young ladies and school- 
 girls from Kief. 
 
 One rainy day early in October Katya drove in the Am- 
 bassador's carriage from the Gare du Nord to the Embassy, 
 situated in the quarter near the Champs Elysees. For seven 
 months, until the chestnuts were in bloom, she remained in 
 Paris. It was the first time she had spent Easter outside 
 Russia, or even away from home. 
 
 It was an entirely new world in which she found herself 
 now. Priluka seemed strangely small in comparison. Katya 
 felt quite lost at first in the great gilded halls, with their
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 87 
 
 wealth of silk, not a single corner anywhere to remind her of 
 old familiar things at home, no cosy little alcoves all was 
 show and ostentation, even to Madame Miliukin's boudoir, 
 where the innumerable cushions and the eternal perfume 
 made her feel ill. The place was full of Russian things 
 carpets and bronzes, carved woodwork and enamel, onyx and 
 malachite and lapis lazuli, weapons from the Caucasus none 
 of which, however, seemed in the least degree at home in the 
 great rooms, furnished and decorated in the styles of Louis XV., 
 Louis XVI., and Empire. It was with these things as with 
 the Circassian servants who stood behind the Ambassador 
 and his wife at meals. The two giants were genuine enough, 
 and their costumes complete to the last detail, yet to Katya 
 they seemed like French waiters dressed for a carnival. 
 Often, too, she felt that the servants, rather than the masters, 
 ruled the household. There was in particular a French maitre 
 d'hotel named Duparc who daily incurred her displeasure. 
 He was like a grandfather who detests children, and he had 
 a way of contriving to oppose her wishes whenever she desired 
 to order a carriage, send a message, or even borrow a paper 
 from the billiard -room. At Priluka her will in such matters 
 was never challenged; here, however, it seemed a recurrent 
 decree of fate that M. Duparc should interpose with his 
 eternal " Je regrette, Princesse, ..." pointing out that 
 there was no carriage available at the moment, that it would 
 be inconvenient to send a messenger just then, or that the 
 gentlemen did not like to be disturbed at their game. More- 
 over, he had a way of appraising her appearance with his 
 eyes whenever she put on a new dress or made any alteration 
 in coiffure, and it was at all times evident that she failed to 
 please his critical eye. " One of these days I shall really 
 wring his neck," she confided to Elisaveta. 
 
 There were always guests, both at lunch and dinner, often 
 even when neither the Ambassador nor his wife were at home, 
 on which occasions Elisaveta was deputed to act as hostess, 
 with one of the Secretaires in attendance. Life was an un- 
 interrupted course of festivities, all exactly alike, in spite of 
 variant titles. Invitations poured in from everywhere, and 
 under the guidance of Elisaveta Katya learned to distinguish 
 those which might be accepted. She seemed to be always 
 having new dresses, not to speak of minor articles such as
 
 88 KATYA 
 
 shoes, gloves, etc. The amounts thus expended impressed 
 Katya herself as well as her mother, who wrote begging her 
 to be more careful in the matter of bills. It was quite im- 
 possible, however, to reduce expenses. Things she must 
 have, if she wished to appear as Elisaveta and the others 
 were accustomed to, and that she was determined to do. 
 
 Her impression of Elisaveta's father was almost as vague 
 on the last day of her stay as it had been on the first. Vasili 
 Pavlovitch showed her such attention as one might expect 
 from a kindly old uncle who is careful to remember that he 
 is talking to a twelve-year-old niece, and chooses his subject 
 and his tone accordingly. During the seven months of her 
 stay he never once spoke to her in Russian, although he was 
 known to be one of the most enthusiastic adherents of the 
 Panslavonic and Nationalist party in the service of Alex- 
 ander III. Russian was, indeed, rarely spoken at table, out 
 of consideration for the guests, though one might frequently 
 hear French, English, and German at the same meal. Kleo- 
 patra Gregorievna Miliukin, nee Princess Trubetskoi, had 
 received her education at a period when the Russian aris- 
 tocracy neglected the mother-tongue, and though she had no 
 objection to speaking Russian, she was herself aware that 
 she had lost her natural fluency in the language in the course 
 of her many years' residence abroad, and her conversation 
 with the two young girls was as a rule conducted in French. 
 She was a handsome woman of dignified bearing, and had not 
 yet owned herself defeated in the struggle against advancing 
 years. Her time and thoughts, however, were incessantly 
 occupied with social and representative duties, which forbade 
 her the slightest approach to any private life of her own. 
 Her whole existence was embittered by this outward part 
 which she was ceaselessly called upon to play, and which 
 had prevented her from ever becoming the wife and mother 
 she had dreamed of. 
 
 " The only thing I have to say against your brother Alex- 
 ander, my dear," she observed one day to Katya, " is that 
 he has chosen the corps diplomatique, I hear he is clever, 
 and works hard ; and, thank God ! his health seems to be 
 improving. But why could he not choose a sensible career, 
 as your father did something which would save him from 
 this nomad existence, and permit of his being a real husband
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 89 
 
 and father, with a real home ? Katya, my dear, you have 
 no idea how weary I can be of it all at times. When you 
 marry and that day will come soon, if I can trust my eyes 
 promise me not to take a diplomat, not only for his sake, 
 but for your own. It is a ruin of a woman's life. One 
 becomes a slave of politics, and all that politics involve; one 
 is no longer a human being, but a marionette, with the State, 
 Society, and other impersonal institutions to pull the strings. 
 There is not a better or a nobler man on earth than Vasili 
 Pavlovitch, but it has been his misfortune and my own that 
 he was so clever and capable. Everybody imagines they 
 have a right to him at all times, and he and I have to get 
 on as well as we can with what is left. It is a pity a pity 
 for us both." 
 
 On another occasion, having arranged to accompany the 
 two girls to the theatre, only to find at the last moment that 
 her presence was demanded elsewhere, she complained bitterly 
 to Katya: 
 
 " I had been looking forward to an evening together, all by 
 ourselves, and then, of course, a Grand Duke arrives. I told 
 my husband how it would be when he was offered Paris. It 
 is the worst post in Europe the eternal stopping-place on 
 the way to the Riviera. And these semi-incognito visits are 
 the worst of all, because they never end. An official recep- 
 tion is different. One knows what to expect two or three 
 days at the outside, and then everyone is dead tired and glad 
 to get away. But as soon as one hears " incognito," " no 
 ceremonial functions," then one knows at once it is a question 
 of weeks. They say Rome is bad. It may be so for the 
 others, but for us Russians Paris is worst of all. The house 
 is a caravanserai, my dear. Oh, I wish I could go to bed for 
 a week, only it wouldn't be fair to Vasili Pavlovitch !" 
 
 At first Katya could not help thinking that Elisaveta must 
 have found Priluka poor and dull beside all that she was 
 accustomed to, but gradually she grew to understand what a 
 Paradise Priluka must seem after the life of ceaseless ceremony 
 in these great gilded rooms. And Elisaveta would one day 
 be mistress of Priluka. ... It cut her to the heart to think 
 that a time would come when the home in Ukraine would be 
 no longer hers, when she would be but a guest in the place 
 which for her was the loveliest on earth. Katya had arrived
 
 90 KATYA 
 
 in Paris full of resolutions. She would not allow herself to 
 be impressed by what she saw, would not submit to be 
 patronized, would not give way to any childish longing. 
 She was nearly eighteen now. Bjit it was not so easy, after 
 all. These Grand Dukes that were continually passing 
 through the rooms seemed only to notice her existence with 
 a careless, " Ah, une Princess Rilinski Sergeievna oui, oui, 
 je me rappelle. . . ." These distinguished elderly gentlemen 
 of all nations, from Persians and Chinese to Spaniards, 
 Italians, and Englishmen ; these women whose dresses and 
 jewels alone were worth a fortune, and who talked with 
 careless, familiar ease of weighty matters that for Katya 
 were but headlines in the newspapers; these social functions 
 at other Embassies and Legations, at the houses of Ministers, 
 bankers, or the nobility, where the taste and splendour of 
 ancient tradition and world-famed culture were displayed 
 . . . what use to deny, even to herself, that it impressed her 
 in spite of resolutions, made her seem but a little girl after 
 all ? She was also forced to admit that horrid old Duparc, 
 albeit in the most courteous manner in the world, made her 
 feel that she was only a child, and could not have her own 
 way. Tatiana or Mikailo, or any of the others at home, 
 would never have dared. . . . Everything here was so cold 
 and formal and hard, and she did feel homesick, it was no 
 use trying. . . . Often she cried herself to sleep, often she 
 wished that her mother could come and stroke her cheek 
 and say: " Katya dear, don't cry; I've come to take you 
 home." 
 
 Everything in the great house moved as by clockwork, 
 wheel biting on wheel exactly at the time and place appointed. 
 Every soul in the establishment had a definite position in the 
 scheme of things, and never moved a hair's-breadth beyond 
 it. All was ordered and set with the single object of social 
 and representative ceremony in view. It was not a home, 
 but a kind of hotel, placed at the disposition of a numerous 
 but select party, who took possession of the place from one 
 o'clock lunch till far into the night. In this Russian house 
 everything was different from her home in Russia. Katya 
 was a unit among many, a guest who was free to live her own 
 life as long as she kept her place in the ordered scale, and did 
 not disturb the established scheme of things. No one in the
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 91 
 
 house had ever time to occupy themselves with her in any 
 other way. She was placed on exactly the same footing as 
 the daughter of the house, and had no reason to complain. 
 
 Her instinct and education, all that Elisaveta Miliukin 
 half-admiringly, half-warningly called " her Cossack nature," 
 rebelled against the stern discipline and strictly regulated 
 duties of the Embassy. Work and worry were by no means 
 relegated to the chancellery; the duties of the drawing-room 
 were not less manifold, and demanded fully as much of regu- 
 larity and order. The two departments were inseparable as 
 two sides of a coin. Either would have been valueless with- 
 out the other, and in neither was there room for anything 
 but the daily tasks. Katya soon perceived the connection 
 between them, realized also vaguely that beneath it all lay 
 something great, something of deep earnest and importance. 
 But she could not altogether grasp it. She lacked the neces- 
 sary interest and observation; she found it difficult to con- 
 centrate her attention on any subject which did not concern 
 herself personally, and she had a horror of abstract questions 
 which she did not understand. Nor did anyone attempt to 
 instruct her. The Ambassador himself never seemed to 
 imagine that it was possible to speak to her of anything 
 beyond what he considered ordinary girlish interests ; and his 
 wife gave Katya the sum of her experience in one trenchant 
 sentence: " Amuse yourself, my dear, as long as you find all 
 this amusing. You will very soon see that a galley-slave is 
 not much worse off." 
 
 There was plenty of young society, of a sort men from 
 the other Embassies and Legations, from the Foreign Ministry 
 and from the Faubourg St. Germain, and, of course, Russians 
 from the Embassy itself or the Consulate, as well as the 
 retinues of the various Grand Dukes, besides occasional 
 travellers of distinction. Katya had no lack of attention 
 " La petite Rilinski," " Cette charmante petite Princesse," 
 was everywhere admired. At a dinner one day a young 
 Grand Duke had said, quite loudly enough for Katya to hear : 
 " But she is charming, your little Rilinski." This was the 
 most bitterly humiliating of all to be "la petite Rilinski," 
 a child whom the elders played with as long as they had 
 nothing better to do, a pretty little girl among a hundred 
 others, a bright and graceful creature to delight the eye, like
 
 92 KATYA 
 
 a bird in an aviary full of birds invited to eat sugar and peck 
 seed from careless hands. She held quite a respectable 
 position in the order of precedence, but she was by no means 
 first. It was not she who was leader, and whom all the 
 young men were eagerly competing to please and obey. 
 The Russian Secretary and Attaches were willing enough to 
 while away the time with her, but even though it was an 
 open secret that her brother was already chosen as son-in- 
 law of the house, it was naturally the daughter of their chief, 
 Elisaveta Vasilievna, who received the principal share of their 
 attention. And as for the others, Frenchmen and men of all 
 other nationalities, who passed in ceaseless procession through 
 the house, they had no time to pay her undivided homage, 
 nor could she herself make conquest of them all en masse. 
 In such matters she preferred to go more quietly to work 
 than her manner at other times might have led one to suppose. 
 
 Katya was undoubtedly a social success. The papers also 
 referred to her in their reports of balls and soirees as "La 
 charmante Princesse Katharine Rilinski." But she was 
 obliged to confess to herself that she had not attained the 
 success of which she had dreamed. She had not laid Paris 
 at her feet; she was not mistress anywhere, not even at the 
 Embassy of her own country. Duparc and his system were 
 not to be subjugated by a little Cossack girl. 
 
 She had made one conquest, however the only one of such 
 sort as she cared about. A young Attache^ at the British 
 Embassy, George Farringham, pursued her with a silent 
 worship, and was in everything her slave. Wherever she was 
 present he had eyes for no one else, and was ready nay, 
 delighted to obey her least inclination. There was about 
 him something which reminded her at once of Petya Orloff 
 and Niki Karatayef. He had Petya's chivalrous admiration, 
 with Niki's earnest strength. But he was more polished than 
 either a man of the world, in spite of his youth and his frank 
 sincerity. She knew nothing of him save that he was the 
 son of a clergyman, and belonged to the younger branch of 
 an ancient family. She favoured him openly beyond other 
 young men more distinguished both as to birth and position ; 
 she had even promised to obtain him an invitation to Priluka, 
 the highest proof of confidence and friendship which she 
 could confer. Shortly before her departure he wrote and
 
 A COSSACK IN PARIS 93 
 
 asked her to marry him a beautiful letter, which she kept. 
 But this was not in the least what she had bargained for. 
 How stupid men were always ! As if she could ever dream 
 of binding herself here, in these surroundings, far from her 
 home in Ukraine, and to a man of another race ! . . . Never. 
 
 Petya Orloff received a couple of brief, hasty notes from 
 Paris. The first began by telling him of herself that she 
 had put up her hair, and that Elisaveta thought it suited her 
 splendidly. " And I wonder what my Petya will say." And 
 of him she wrote that she hoped he was still working hard, 
 for it would never do for him to fail at the examination, 
 especially as Sasha and Karatayef were sure of passing theirs. 
 "Row, Petya row hard !" she added, smiling to herself as 
 she wrote. But there she stopped. 
 
 The second letter was little more than a notification of the 
 fact that her stay in Paris was now nearly at an end. " And 
 I look forward to seeing you at Priluka, Sir Lieutenant ! 
 Your old friend, Katya Rilinski." 
 
 Elisaveta received many letters from Sasha, and wrote as 
 often in reply. Everything went on perfectly between them. 
 Of Karatayei not a word. Priluka seemed very far away. 
 
 Katya had now seen Paris or, at least, what many would 
 consider as the finest and most desirable part in the life of 
 that city. She had been to museums and picture-galleries, to 
 theatres and lectures, and even to a reception of the Academy. 
 She had been the guest of President Grlvy, as well as French 
 Ministers, Dukes, and financiers; had dined at the Embassies 
 and Legations of a dozen different countries. She had been 
 introduced to Grand Dukes and Princes of the blood; many 
 men bearing great names had paid her considerable attention. 
 In spite of it all she felt herself a stranger to the last. It had 
 been amusing enough, and she had learned a good deal. But 
 there was only one man who in the least degree had reminded 
 her of her home, and he, strangely enough, no Russian, but 
 young Farringham, with the fine eyes and the deep, earnest 
 voice. 
 
 People were so unkind in Paris. Katya knew from her 
 own country how eagerly the world busies itself with the 
 most intimate private life of men, and more especially of 
 women. But in Russia all were ever ready to forgive, to 
 sympathize, to lend a kindly hand to those in trouble, even
 
 94 KATYA 
 
 to thieves and murderers on their way to Siberia; while here 
 in Paris, in those circles which by birth, and wealth, and 
 culture were accounted the highest, scandal was as rife as in 
 any petty provincial town in Russia. People's eyes shone 
 with delight whenever they could retail something seriously 
 compromising about anyone else. Everyone was so strict 
 and correct in everything not a pin was allowed to get out 
 of place but as for heart, truly, if these people had any, 
 they hid it well. They would never understand Priluka or 
 Ukraine. Farringham, perhaps, but of the others none. 
 
 When at last the chestnuts were in bloom, and Katya's 
 stay was at an end, her whole soul rejoiced at the thought of 
 seeing her home again. A courier on the way to St. Peters- 
 burg was directed to travel by way of Kief in order to escort 
 her so far. From there she could look after herself, if no 
 one came from Priluka to fetch her. 
 
 There was no one, to Katya's great relief. She had a whole 
 evening to herself, and all alone " la petite Rilinski " made 
 her way hastily up the hill, where in spring and autumn the 
 lighted Cross of St. Vladimir draws birds of passage from 
 their way across the Plains of Ukraine. 
 
 Katya felt she was home at last. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE GENERAL AT HIS WORK 
 
 GENERAL KARATAYEF sat at his work. 
 
 It was the last evening before his son's return, and he must 
 get it finished the picture of a white palace, with its rose- 
 garden, and the fairy Prince stepping ashore from his boat to 
 find the place all bravely decked against his home-coming. 
 There were roses, and golden flecks upon a sea of blue. The 
 handsome youth trod lightly amid the flowers of the bank, 
 and stretched his arms towards the palace, where each white 
 pillar was wreathed and garlanded with leaves. 
 
 But the palace itself was not yet finished. One wing was 
 yet to be added, with high windows and ivy climbing up the 
 wall. The needle plied busily in and out; eagerly, lovingly 
 the old man chose his colours, drawing long glittering threads
 
 THE GENERAL AT HIS WORK 95 
 
 that clung to his fingers and seemed to whisper softly at his 
 touch. 
 
 One wing yet to be added. Mandelberg had done his best, 
 but Prince Rilinski was stubborn, and only in the direst ex- 
 tremity would he relinquish his hold on field, and wood, and 
 rights of domain the deeds demanded as security by the 
 Kherson Bank. The man was evidently blind to his own 
 interests. He did not dare to take the plunge at once, 
 although he knew that sooner or later it must come. And 
 now there was nothing left him ; he could only strive to avoid 
 catastrophe. 
 
 General Karatayef had no wish to injure Prince Rilinski, 
 still less the Princess, who had been kind to his son, or the 
 children, who were Niki's friends. But power he was deter- 
 mined to have. It was becoming more and more difficult 
 for him to hold a protecting hand between Prince Rilinski 
 and disaster, and what use would a ruined Rilinski be to 
 General Karatayef or his son ? The Prince was acting with 
 more than imprudence, despite the cautious counsels of Man- 
 delberg. He took such loans as were absolutely necessary in 
 driblets, letting the work drag slowly on, and losing every 
 month increasing sums in interest. The Kherson Bank had 
 encroached upon Priluka even to its lake and orchard. The 
 Prince's sources of income were rapidly drying up. It was 
 becoming a matter of difficulty to meet immediate charges, 
 and this was a time when he needed ready money. Alex- 
 ander's engagement to Elisaveta Miliukin was about to be 
 officially announced. Later on, the young couple might 
 count on some support from the Ambassador, but the chief 
 contribution to their establishment must naturally come from 
 the Prince himself. It was even doubtful whether Vasili 
 Miliukin would have been so ready to give his sanction had 
 he known the exact state of affairs at Priluka. Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna's stay in Paris must have cost a considerable 
 amount; it was beyond doubt also an expensive thing to 
 have a daughter staying in Count Dolgoruki's house in St. 
 Petersburg. And General Karatayef, pondering all these 
 things, and adding thereto the Prince's obligations to the 
 Kherson Bank, with the losses caused by the existing invest- 
 ment of his whole available capital, saw very clearly that the 
 position was untenable for any length of time. The only one
 
 96 KATYA 
 
 who did not seem to realize it was the person most nearly 
 concerned. An important payment was already overdue, and 
 the Kherson Bank would be both legally and morally entitled 
 to foreclose. Moreover, new loans must be raised before the 
 end of the summer, or the building work at Peressip would 
 be indefinitely adjourned, which was only another form of 
 disaster. General Karatayef would never have believed that 
 a man of Prince Rilinski's intelligence, a father with his 
 affection for his children, could be so blindly obstinate. He 
 resented this resistance, this imperviousness to advice which, 
 albeit scarcely disinterested, was none the less sound. Such 
 a contingency was unprovided for in his calculations ; he had 
 not foreseen the possibility of such imprudence on the part 
 of the Prince. 
 
 There was a wing still unfinished in the palace. 
 
 The evening wore on. Gradually the noise of traffic out- 
 side in the Konnaya died away ; all was still in the great old 
 house where General Karatayef sat alone broidering ivy up 
 a high, white wall. 
 
 According to Mandelberg's report, the mere mention of the 
 family jewels had been sufficient to send the Prince into a 
 rage which threatened to terminate the interview. But what 
 was the use of these feelings, natural enough, perhaps, in a 
 man like Sergei Arkadievitch, but quite out of place in busi- 
 ness affairs ? The family jewels must sooner or later follow 
 so much else to the strong-room of the Kherson Bank, there 
 to repose until the finished houses on the shore of the Black 
 Sea should free them from their durance and pay for all 
 with interest manifold. There was, of course, the question 
 of Sasha's approaching marriage. On such an occasion the 
 absence of the famous Turkish emeralds and turquoises would 
 excite comment. Still, in case of need, the Kherson Bank 
 would no doubt be amenable to reason, and lend the treasures 
 for the event. It was no use making a fuss about it; it was 
 a question of common sense. . . . No; the family jewels 
 were not so inaccessible, after all. There was interest over- 
 due; the new summer loan would have to be covered by 
 securities which were not already involved. The whole was 
 a matter of weeks, or days. It would soon be time to think 
 of finding a trustworthy man to effect the transfer of those 
 jewels. . . .
 
 THE GENERAL AT HIS WORK 97 
 
 With every stitch the ivy-grown wing of the white palace 
 grew and grew. 
 
 General Karatayef remembered distinctly his meeting with 
 Prince Rilinski the previous autumn at Mandelberg's office. 
 Poor fellow ! he was growing old, and all this worry was 
 leaving its mark upon him. He felt himself sinking, that was 
 evident, and yet he hesitated to grasp the hand that sought 
 to save him. Karatayef was certain that Rilinski hated him. 
 Not that the Prince ever showed such feeling in word or deed 
 he was always and obstinately an aristocrat; but there was 
 hate in his eyes, and more than hate disgust, loathing. . . . 
 How much did he know ? 
 
 " I have been an honourable man all my life," the Prince 
 had said. " Great sums have been entrusted me from the 
 Empress's privy purse, and I retired from office a poorer man 
 than I went in. No one has ever dared to breathe a word 
 against the name I bear, and what is it all to lead to ?" 
 
 Did he know anything, and, if so, would he now, under the 
 stress of hate and fear, attempt revenge ? 
 
 But Sergei Arkadievitch could not know more than was 
 known to many others, nor was he the man to plot and plan 
 another's ruin; yet it was hard, it was cruel, to hear such 
 words as Prince Rilinski had spoken, and to feel that one 
 would give years of one's life for the right to echo them. 
 But the Prince had been born to wealth and position ; every- 
 thing had lain ready for him, as now for his children. . . . 
 No ; the children would be ruined by their father's fall. Their 
 fate lay, even as his, in Karatayef's hand. And then the ruin 
 of Prince Rilinski and his house would not that recoil 
 again on Niki ay, crush him, perchance ? Who could 
 say ? 
 
 General Karatayef let his work fall. It was late, and he 
 was tired. 
 
 No; the rest could wait. Later, after his son had gone, he 
 would complete the wing of that white palace, decked out in 
 honour of the fairy prince. 
 
 " Father," said Niki the next day, as soon as they were 
 alone, and Kapitolina's superlative cabbage soup cleared 
 away " father, I've lots of things to tell you." 
 
 " That's good, my son. It's rarely I see anyone to talk to 
 
 7
 
 98 KATYA 
 
 now that your mother's gone. I wish she could have lived 
 to see this day. She would have been glad and proud. To 
 pass out top ..." 
 
 " H'm ! Sasha and I were about level." 
 
 " And the prospect of a post in the Ministry ..." 
 
 " We have the Prince and Princess to thank for that." 
 
 " And I may live to see you an ambassador yet, Niki, if 
 you go on at that rate." The General bent down to pick up 
 something from the floor. " But if your mother had been 
 alive she would not have let you run away again so soon. 
 You are anxious to get to Priluka, I know. You and Sasha 
 appear to be great friends, Niki inseparable." Again a 
 crevice of the parquet caught his eye. 
 
 " You know even better than I, father, how much I owe 
 to the Rilinskis." 
 
 " H'm ! Owe . . . owe ... as far as that's concerned . . ." 
 
 " Father, I can't bear to hear you talk" like that !" The 
 young man rose to his feet impatiently; the crazy flooring 
 creaked as he moved. 
 
 " That's Niki all over excitable as ever." 
 
 "I'm not excited, but I can't stand ... It hurts me, 
 father, to hear you speak like that about the Rilinskis, who 
 can never do enough for me; and that's, in away, a kindness 
 to you, too." 
 
 " H'm ! Kindly and hospitable yes." The General was 
 stooping once more. 
 
 " More than that much more. The Princess has been as 
 a mother to me, and I cannot imagine a brother more kindly 
 and true than Sasha. And the two young Princesses . . ." 
 
 " Like sisters, Niki, shall we say like sisters ?" 
 
 " Father, how can you sneer so ? You don't know how 
 you hurt me." He walked to the window, and stood with 
 his back to his father, picking at the loosened gilding of the 
 panels. 
 
 " Come, Niki, my boy, speak out. Which is it ? You 
 can't be in love with both of them." 
 
 The boy turned round to face his father, and spoke with 
 quiet determination : 
 
 " I am going to ask Ekaterina Sergeievna to marry me, 
 and if she won't I shall shoot myself." 
 
 " Niki, you are not a child ! This is mere nonsense."
 
 THE GENERAL AT HIS WORK 99 
 
 "Oh, I knew you'd say that. I suppose that's the only 
 thing a father can say." 
 
 " We might call it romance your mother's weakness, if 
 you like that better." 
 
 " Father, I don't think you understand me. We've seen 
 too little of each other these last years, and maybe we're too 
 unlike. . . ." 
 
 " What do 3'ou mean ?" The General was playing ner- 
 vously with his cross. 
 
 " I mean, you are an unusually clever man, with a perfect 
 genius for business at any rate, so Mandelberg says and 
 you lead a life which I could not endure ..." 
 
 " So much for me. And yourself ?" 
 
 " Oh, there's nothing interesting about me. I'm just a 
 pretty hard worker, and a whole lot of queer vague things 
 besides that I don't half understand myself." 
 
 " And excitable don't forget that, Niki. And with all 
 the ' vagueness ' of the rest you are yet quite determined to 
 marry Ekaterina Sergeievna or shoot yourself." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Your decision does not show any great consideration for 
 others. Let us suppose that the young lady says no. She 
 may have met someone in Paris." 
 
 " She hasn't. I know that." 
 
 " You know ? Oh, from Sasha, I suppose. Well, let her 
 say no for some other reason, and you shoot yourself 
 you, my son. Well, well, a childless old man more or less 
 . . . and a hard-hearted man of business would soon get over 
 it ... rich enough to never miss a mere only son ..." 
 
 " Father, I didn't mean ..." 
 
 The Genera] stooped to pick up a thread, and continued : 
 
 " It wouldn't matter about him. An old miser out of one 
 of your mother's novels, counting his money, caring for 
 nothing else . . . never mind about him." 
 
 " Father, how can you twist my words to things I never 
 thought ?" 
 
 " But the girl herself and her family, who have been so 
 kind. May I ask, do you intend to acquaint her with the 
 er alternative ?" 
 
 " Tell her ? Is it likely ? You turn and twist everything 
 I say . . ."
 
 TOO KATYA 
 
 " I merely asked. Well, then, she and her family receive 
 the sudden news that you have killed yourself possibly at 
 Priluka itself ..." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I thought as much. And so you show your gratitude to 
 these people by making their pleasant home the scene of a 
 horrible tragedy, causing the young lady herself and all her 
 family a great deal of pain and trouble, perhaps even scandal. 
 . . . You are right, Niki; we are unlike, you and I. If I 
 wanted to shoot myself, I shouldn't begin by telling people 
 about it, and I should take care that no friend of mine should 
 ever guess that they had been directly or indirectly re- 
 sponsible. But, then, I'm only an old miser, with no feel- 
 ings." 
 
 " But you admit that there may be circumstances where 
 it is the only way ?" 
 
 " I have said nothing of the kind." 
 
 " Well, let us suppose . . . say, for instance, someone were 
 to impeach your honour as an officer, and something made it 
 impossible for you to . . ." 
 
 " You are getting away from the point." The General 
 was busy fishing up something from a crack in the floor. 
 
 " No, father, I'm not. I only want to show you that there 
 may come a time in a man's life when he doesn't care to go 
 on living. I shan't forget what you have said, and I'm sorry 
 if I've said anything to hurt you, father. I didn't mean to 
 be unkind. But if Katya Rilinski won't have me, then as 
 sure as I stand here I'll shoot myself." 
 
 " Student's nonsense ! This comes of reading Dostoiefski." 
 The General shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "If you persist in talking like that, I shall have to go." 
 The boy's voice was pregnant with repressed passion; his 
 father forbore to answer. 
 
 " Niki," he said at last, after a long silence, " how far have 
 things gone between you ?" 
 
 " How far ? We have never spoken a word, either of us, 
 about anything of that sort." 
 
 " And Sonya ? You always used to speak so kindly of her 
 also in your letters from Priluka last summer. I had rather 
 an idea that it was she." 
 
 " Sonya ... no, you see. . . ." Niki turned again to the
 
 THE GENERAL AT HIS WORK 101 
 
 gilding in the window, " She's so much younger, and . . . 
 and . . ." 
 
 "It is to be the elder sister. Very well. She's pretty, I 
 admit. And Mandelberg tells me she appears to be clever ; 
 but . . . ' difficile ' was the word he used. I don't know what 
 reason he may have for saying so." 
 
 " Mandelberg doesn't know anything about it." 
 
 " He's a clever man, Niki. But never mind that. Do 
 you have you any reason to er hope ?" 
 
 " Yes; you see, I love her so." There was a ring of quiet, 
 natural confidence in his voice. 
 
 " Niki, my boy, forgive me if I've said anything to hurt 
 you." The General paused a moment, and went on : " And 
 now, suppose you do win her, this little Katya of yours, what 
 do you think her father and mother will have to say to it ?" 
 
 " Princess Rilinski has always been kind to me, and I think 
 she likes me. And the Prince, too, has been kindness itself; 
 he thanked me once" for having been, as he said, so true a 
 friend to Sasha. They're always a little anxious about his 
 health, you know ; he has a cough now and then which I don't 
 like. , , ." 
 
 " Does Sasha know anything of your plan ?" 
 
 " No; I've got to win her by myself; I'm quite clear on that 
 point. And if not. . . ." 
 
 " There, don't let's begin again about that." The General 
 drew his son's arm through his own, and the two walked up 
 and down in silence for a minute. 
 
 " Niki, I want you to promise your old father something. 
 Don't be afraid it's not so difficult. But if all goes as you 
 wish as we wish with little Ekaterina Sergeievna, and any 
 difficulty arises with the Princess, for instance, or one never 
 knows perhaps Prince Rilinski himself, then telegraph for 
 me before you shoot yourself," he added, with a smile. 
 " You promise, Niki ?" 
 
 " Yes, father, I promise." He pressed his father's arm. 
 
 " Good. That's all I ask. And good luck go with you, my 
 son, my great ambassador to be. If only your mother had 
 lived to see it ! I know one little woman who would have 
 treasured, shall we say, a little card, with ' Ekaterina Ser- 
 geievna Karatayef, nee Princess Rilinski.' Your mother loved 
 you very dearly, boy ; she did more for you than you ever knew.
 
 102 KATYA 
 
 The love of all her life . . . and no sacrifice that was too great 
 . . . even to the peace of her conscience. Heaven be praised 
 that you've proved worthy of it, my son !" 
 
 " Father, what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Nothing, boy, nothing only that you've had a good 
 mother, who prayed to God for your happiness. Do not 
 forget her, my boy. She never forgot you, however far you 
 might be; denied herself everything for your sake, and dared 
 everything that might mean gain to you. She made a 
 shrine for you in her heart, and in the evenings, as she sat 
 at her work, her thoughts were always with you. And now 
 she will have not only you, but your little Katya, to dream of. 
 Now she has two to make happiness for, and easy ways. 
 Niki, sometimes when you are very happy, think for a 
 moment of her. . . ." 
 
 The General led his son to Anna Dimitrievna's room, 
 where the dust lay thick on faded memories, and opened the 
 old chest which had borne the holy relics of a mother's love 
 throughout all Russia. 
 
 " Do not forget her, Niki. Her hands grew coarse with 
 work done for your sake. But her soul was clean." 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 KATYA LISTENS 
 
 KATYA was sitting in one of the easy chairs in the Club, 
 leaning back, with her hands clasped behind her head. She 
 knew Sasha did not approve of her presence there, and Sonya 
 never came unless expressly invited. To-day, however, 
 Katya happened to be passing, and, hearing voices and 
 laughter inside, felt a sudden desire to join them. She was 
 not in the best of spirits herself of late. 
 
 " You ought not to smoke so much, Sasha," she said. The 
 floor about the table was thickly strewn with cigarette-ends. 
 "It's bad for the lungs." 
 
 " Really ? You know all about it, it seems. You've 
 grown quite clever since that holiday in Paris." 
 
 " More than can be said of you three, anyhow. You're all 
 simply childish since you passed your silly exams."
 
 KATYA LISTENS 103 
 
 " My dear," said Sasha politely, " as far as Niki and I are 
 concerned, you may treat us as you please, but kindly remember 
 that Petya is present. A respectful demeanour, and the title 
 of ' Your Honour ' are necessary when addressing an officer in 
 the Imperial Navy." 
 
 " Ekaterina Sergeievna has danced with Grand Dukes," 
 put in Karatayef. " Petya's glory doesn't impress her." 
 
 " I never said I had danced with a Grand Duke. I don't 
 believe they can dance they're too stiff and staid. But they 
 can make love at any rate, some of them." 
 
 " That's very interesting," said Sasha. " And can you 
 explain to us, dear Katya, this remarkable problem: how a 
 Grand Duke, too stiff and staid to dance, yet manages to 
 make love ? Speak, sister, since you have pleased to honour 
 us with your presence in this otherwise peaceful spot." 
 
 " Oh, keep your sarcasm to yourself. I don't know if Petya 
 and Nikolai Nikolai evitch object to my sitting here a moment 
 when I'm tired ?" 
 
 " Of course not, Katya; what an idea !" protested Petya 
 hastily; and Karatayef went on : " On the contrary, Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna, stay and tell us something more about Paris." 
 
 " Really, I've told you all there was to tell. Of course, 
 Elisaveta was admired wherever she went, and there were 
 several young men whom she seemed to favour very much." 
 
 " Several ? Oh, then, that's all right," observed Sasha. 
 " No, Katya, you're not so smart as I thought you were, 
 after all." 
 
 " Well, ask her yourself next week, when she comes. If 
 she comes, that is. She may have changed her mind. I know 
 / should." 
 
 " How about your own conquests, Ekaterina Sergeievna ?" 
 asked Karatayef. 
 
 " Oh, I only fell desperately in love with one of them, an 
 Englishman. George Farringham was his name." 
 
 " You only say that to show off," said Lieutenant Oiioff, 
 with a laugh. " We know all about you, Katya. An English- 
 man, indeed ! You'd never have him." 
 
 " Is Your Honour so certain of that ?" 
 
 " You never said a word about him in your letters." The 
 words were out before he could think ; Petya coloured deeply 
 and avoided Karatayef's glance.
 
 104 KATYA 
 
 Katya never moved a muscle. Still in the same careless 
 tone she answered : 
 
 " One doesn't write of such things to one's parents not 
 even to one's brother. And I know Elisaveta never said a 
 word about it either. Did she, Sasha ?" 
 
 " Not a syllable," corroborated Sasha. He had not failed 
 to notice Petya's slip of the tongue, and was inwardly rejoicing 
 at his sister's ready resourcefulness. He remembered the 
 clandestine correspondence of the year before. 
 
 " I never knew that Katya had ever sent you a single letter 
 from Paris, Sasha," said Karatayef, with unusual interest. 
 " You never said a word about it to me." 
 
 " Heaps of letters," said Katya decisively. 
 
 " Well, I should hardly call it heaps," objected Sasha with 
 a smile. 
 
 " I should. But of course you thought more of Elisaveta 
 than of me. What's a sister, after all ?" 
 
 " Oh, by all means throw the blame on Elisaveta if you 
 like," said Sasha carelessly. But Karatayef was far from 
 satisfied, and sat there wishing that he dared to ask outright, 
 in such a manner as to force them to the truth. Petya had 
 regained confidence, however, and was beginning to think he 
 had managed it very cleverly. He inquired further about the 
 wonderful Englishman. 
 
 " Farringham ? Oh, he's a nice young man handsome, of 
 course; a clergyman's son. . . ." 
 
 All laughed aloud at this; even Niki Karatayef joining in 
 the general mirth. 
 
 " You're rather children, you know, in spite of all your 
 silly exams.," said Katya, enjoying the effect of her words. 
 " Your idea of a country clergyman is a dirty old man with 
 long hair, who spends most of his time drinking with the 
 peasants; that's the only sort you have ever seen. If you'd 
 ever read an English novel in your lives ..." 
 
 " Oh, yes, thanks, we know all about it," interrupted 
 Sasha. " The country clergyman's son comes into a fortune 
 in the last chapter, with a title into the bargain, marries the 
 girl of his heart, and they all live happily ever after. No 
 doubt your Englishman is really His Grace the Duke of Farring- 
 ham when all's said and done." 
 " Very likely he is. At any rate, he belongs to the cadet
 
 KATYA LISTENS 105 
 
 branch of that famous house, and for the present he happens 
 to be Attache" at the Embassy of his country in Paris, which is 
 more than any of you can say." 
 
 " And you're in love with him ?" said Petya interroga- 
 tively. 
 
 " Madly in love. He's coming to Priluka ..." 
 
 " Coming here !" Karatayef almost sprang out of his 
 chair. 
 
 "... this year or next, as soon as he can get leave. Papa 
 has written to him you can ask if you like. Papa's so easy 
 to get round just now haven't you noticed it ? And by way 
 of reward for his good behaviour, I've promised to go with him 
 to Shipagin's. Isn't it nice of me ?" 
 
 " You are going away ?" Karatayef seemed quite 
 agitated. 
 
 " Only for three days. We are to drive the whole way in 
 the little phaeton with the two blacks. Papa expects to 
 settle his business with Alexander Aristidovitch in one day, 
 and it's only a day's journey each way. I'm looking forward 
 to it." 
 
 " And is Vladimir Shipagin coming back with you ?" 
 asked Petya. 
 
 " He's away from home, it seems. Mama wrote and invited 
 him, as usual, and he answered I think it was from some- 
 where in the Crimea that he wouldn't be able to come till 
 later. We shall have some fun with him and Elisaveta and 
 Elena, just like last year. If only poor Elena doesn't faint at 
 the sight of him !" 
 
 " He never gives her a thought," said Petya. " I saw him 
 in Odessa a month or so ago, with well, he wasn't alone, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, this is interesting. Go on, Petya, tell us all about 
 it." 
 
 " I don't think him interesting in the least. He never 
 seems to do anything, and thinks of nothing but clothes and 
 women. His father pays for both." 
 
 " Your Honour will kindly reserve your mess-room stories 
 until visitors have left the Club," put in Sasha coldly. 
 
 " Oh, all right," said Katya loftily. " / don't want to hear 
 your nasty stories. And I shan't forget to tell Elisaveta. . . ." 
 
 She sprang up and slipped out into the sunshine.
 
 io6 KATYA 
 
 Prince Rilinski was sitting in the phaeton with Katya by 
 his side. He was going to negotiate with Alexander Aristido- 
 vitch at the latter 's estate of Patkanovo on the subject of a 
 loan. It was not without considerable reluctance that he 
 brought himself to visit Shipagin on such an errand, espe- 
 cially as they had seen nothing of each other for many years, 
 and had not even corresponded. Still, Alexander Shipagin's 
 son had been kindly received and hospitably entertained at 
 Priluka; Anastasia Gregorievna had been faithful here as 
 everywhere, and her kindness would doubtless reap its reward. 
 . . . For the Prince needed money, and that without delay. 
 Mandelberg had again written offering to settle the whole 
 business with the Kherson Bank on favourable terms, pro- 
 vided. . . . Prince Sergei knew the rest of the letter by heart; 
 he carried it on his person to Patkanovo, fearing lest, in his 
 absence, it should fall into other hands. " Provided that I 
 am empowered to offer as security, besides the landed property, 
 of which the bank has already an unusually large amount, the 
 jewels, precious stones, and gold and silver ornaments belong- 
 ing to Your Highness, to be included among the securities 
 already deposited there. I take the liberty of reminding 
 Your Highness once more that it would, in my opinion, be in 
 every way advisable to accept this favourable offer. By so 
 doing, the arrears of interest which might now at any moment 
 occasion a regrettable but perfectly justifiable course of 
 action on the part of the bank, would be paid off, in addition 
 to which, the difficulties at present hindering the com- 
 pletion of Your Highness's operations in Peressip would at 
 once be most satisfactorily removed." 
 
 Impossible ! To go to his wife and ask her to deliver up 
 the family jewels which he himself had hung about her neck 
 on the day he led her home as his bride. . . . Generation after 
 generation of his race had worn them ; they were a symbol of 
 former greatness and splendour. The emerald diadem had 
 shone in the hair of a Princess of Croatia, who had married a 
 Rilinski, and become Queen of the Slav lands about the 
 Adriatic. The turquoises had been taken as spoil of war by 
 a Rilinski during Tsar Stefan Dushan's Balkan campaign. 
 There were diamonds which had been presented by a Musco- 
 vite Tsar to that Rilinski whose services had been of such 
 decisive importance in the war against the Poles in Ukraine;
 
 KATYA LISTENS 107 
 
 there were the pearls which Alexander I. had presented to his 
 friend and trusted adviser, Lasar Rilinski, a contemporary 
 of Kutusof, and the first of the Russian statesmen at the 
 Congress of Vienna. And all these treasures were to be 
 handed over to General Karatayef and his hateful bank ! 
 It was humiliation worse than any ruin. They were not his, 
 but the property of his race, a sacred heirloom from the past ; 
 his only to hand down, unsullied and undiminished, to his 
 descendants. The day was near now when Sasha should 
 have the right to choose the fairest jewel from the iron casket 
 and lay upon Elisaveta Vasilievna's pillow ere she awoke as his 
 wife. And if there should be missing the meanest stone 
 great Heaven ! he, Prince Rilinski, would have robbed his son. 
 
 But the money the money ! It was a happy thought to 
 go to Shipagin; he could well spare the money if he would. 
 And help was sorely needed . For it was not only the arrears 
 of interest, which the Kherson Bank of late had almost 
 threateningly demanded; not only the building operations 
 in Peressip, which continued to swallow uncountable sums 
 it was Sasha's future, and that of both the girls, that danger 
 shadowed. Vasili Miliukin had written several times from 
 Paris inquiring in the most business-like manner as to Sasha's 
 prospects. Kleopatra Gregorievna had in her letters to the 
 Princess enlarged upon the heavy expenses inseparable from a 
 diplomatic career in Russia, and had desired to know what 
 support Sasha might expect from his parents, stating quite 
 frankly herself the amount which Elisaveta was to receive from 
 her family at any rate, for the present. Where was it all 
 to come from now that his income was decreasing almost day 
 by day ? And sooner or later there would be the marriage 
 portions for his own daughters to be provided how, Heaven 
 only knew ! All his available capital, even including Anas- 
 tasia Gregorievna's personal property was already involved. 
 And she, poor soul, knew but the half of the truth, that was 
 yet sufficient to make her suspect approaching calamity. 
 She had begged him to share his trouble with her begged 
 him to let her help . . . his true wife if she only could ! 
 
 " Sighing again ? What is it, papa dear ?" Katya took 
 his hand and patted it. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, dear that is, many things that you wouldn't 
 understand, little Katya."
 
 ro8 KATYA 
 
 " Are you glad you took me with you, papa ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear child, indeed. It won't be very amusing at 
 Patkanovo." 
 
 " And you won't tell me what it is that's worrying you, 
 papa ?" 
 
 " Do not ask, dear. It's not so very bad. You'll see, we 
 shall manage all right. ..." 
 
 "Drive faster, Mikailo 1" called Katya suddenly. "Only 
 don't upset us this time I" 
 
 Mikailo's burly shoulders creased into something like the 
 back of a smile; it pleased the little lamb to jest. A couple 
 of days ago Mikailo had been so unfortunate as to upset the 
 Princess and Sonya, returning from church at Dubni. Such 
 little accidents happened occasionally, when the road had 
 taken some new whim into its head. And how could it be 
 otherwise ? Mikailo drove post-haste always and every- 
 where; a meaner rate of speed would have been derogatory 
 both to his own dignity and to that of the noble house he 
 served. And whenever anything did happen, then it was not 
 a mere vulgar overturning encountered at a foot-pace, and 
 no harm done, but a real accident, with all honourable 
 attributes in the way of danger, destruction, and subsequent 
 expense. True, a catastrophe of the sort sent honest Mikailo, 
 as a rule, into self-imposed exile for periods which had been 
 known to extend to several days, during which quarantine his 
 wife strewed hints of suicide abroad; but he always reap- 
 peared, chastened in soul and self-absolved of fault. And 
 being asked how he dared to show his face again, he humbly 
 answered that the horses were pining to death for his presence, 
 and he could not bear to torture the good beasts. 
 
 Mikailo was wearing his stateliest livery, sensible of the 
 fact that he was driving the Prince himself and Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna ; the latter being in his eyes some strangely hybrid 
 being, half comrade, fearless as his fearless self, and half a 
 mistress very greatly to be dreaded. He sat there proudly 
 on his box, inviting her admiration, a splendid figure in his 
 sleeveless kaftan of black velvet, with the red arms of his 
 blouse showing through ; a belt of silver round his waist, and 
 a tall cloth cap topped with peacock feathers on his swarthy, 
 curly head. The little lamb wished to drive faster ? Nothing 
 easier. Mikailo leaned forward, with arms outstretched, and
 
 KATYA LISTENS 109 
 
 taking the two loops of the reins, stamped and shouted at the 
 two black beasts till they flew over the broad, unlevel way. 
 Wherever there was mud, that mud was flung in a cascade to 
 either side; the few low rises were topped with a rocket's 
 flight, the following descent taken at meteor speed. The 
 carriage groaned in every fibre, and tortured springs made 
 loud complaint, the mudguards flapping ceaselessly like wings 
 of a wounded bird. And Mikailo called to the horses to go 
 faster and faster still his own grip tightening on the reins 
 the while, until the muscles swelled beneath his bright red 
 sleeves. 
 
 " Faster, Mikailo, faster !" 
 
 Katya loved this wild speed of her wide, wild land. It was 
 strangely fascinating to lean back against soft cushions, half 
 lulled by mere monotony of haste, half intoxicated by the 
 ever-present peril of disaster. In Paris what did they 
 know of driving in Paris ! As little as they knew how to 
 dance or sing. Mikailo, master of all three arts, would have 
 put to shame the first stars of the Bois or of the Opera. . . . 
 What would Farringham think of Ukraine when he came ? 
 Petya was a clumsy boy; he had let Niki Karatayef see that 
 she had exchanged letters with him. But that was of no con- 
 sequence, after all ; Niki had no right to her, no sort of claim ; 
 he was lax now as ever in his homage; there seemed even at 
 times to be something imperatively careless in his manner, 
 as though he had no cause to fear, no reason to be kind. 
 Katya found herself wondering if perhaps, even here at her own 
 Priluka, she were nothing after all but " la petite Rilinski " 
 a toylike thing that men could take and leave as pleased their 
 humour. No, it was impossible. That day, in the Club, Niki 
 Karatayef had plainly shown that he was jealous, furiously 
 jealous of Petya. But then, why did he not come and tell her 
 that she was all his world, all his hope, as Petya had that 
 evening in the boat ? She longed for him to come so needed 
 most of all that he should come to her and let her see that she 
 was home again, and mistress of Priluka of them all. 
 
 " Why, Katya, you are sighing now ! Is anything the 
 matter, dear ?" 
 
 " No, papa, nothing. I'm glad to sit beside you here." 
 
 Mikailo used no whip; the silver-mounted toy, so-called, 
 that hung supinely ornamental on his arm, was of a dignity
 
 no KATYA 
 
 beyond mere vulgar use. But he had an infinite scale of 
 sounds at his command whenever guidance or encouragement 
 were needed. He talked to his beasts after the manner of a 
 General instructing his staff, and when words failed he hissed 
 and whistled, shouted and sang, doubtless w r ith some deep 
 meaning. At any rate, the horses understood, and mightily 
 they dashed forward over mud and stone and turf and sand. 
 
 Prince Rilinski was occasionally able, in moments of in- 
 spiration, to persuade himself that the situation was really 
 not so desperate after all. As, for instance, now. As soon 
 as Alexander Shipagin had accommodated him with this 
 little loan, then everything would be all right again. Im- 
 mediate arrears paid off, provision made for the continuance 
 of building operations through the summer, and no more non- 
 sense about the family jewels. ... It was very pleasant 
 thus to lighten the burden of anxiety against the pillar of 
 hope, but it could not last. In a flash he saw through his 
 veil of dreams the full extent of the peril that threatened him. 
 Shipagin could not, or would not, help him; the Kherson 
 Bank would sell Priluka's land beneath his very windows, 
 and then then he must choose between open ruin and the 
 surrender of those heirlooms of his race. It was horrible. 
 The very thought of General Karatayef made him shiver 
 with hate and fear. 
 
 " What do you say, Katya ? Shall we give the horses a 
 rest ? It would be nice to sit down a moment in the shade; 
 the heat is awful." 
 
 " Certainly, papa, if you like. Mikailo, put up at the 
 nearest house; but a nice one, with a garden and lots of 
 trees I" 
 
 " Very well, Barishna !" 
 
 Katya's thoughts had gone back a year to the last summer 
 at Priluka. It seemed so very long ago. Then she had only 
 wished to punish Niki Karatayef, and reduce him to obedience 
 once more, after his momentary struggle for freedom; but 
 now it was all different. She wanted more much more. 
 He should be kind to her, make her happy, show her how 
 glad he was that she had not stayed in Paris and accepted 
 Farringham the Englishman. He should think of no one but 
 her, just as she . . . she thought a great deal too much of 
 him. And how could he be so slow ? Why didn't he under-
 
 KATYA LISTENS in 
 
 stand, like Petya ? But Petya was only a big, handsome, 
 chivalrous boy. It was time he grew out of that sort of 
 thing. Niki Karatayef was a man a strong man, horribly 
 strong. . . . 
 
 Mikailo drew up at a little white house set in sunflowers 
 and hollyhocks on the edge of a wood. A young woman was 
 standing in the doorway. The Prince asked her permission 
 to lead the horses into the yard, where they could stand in 
 the shade. She helped Mikailo to unharness, and brought a 
 draught of cool milk to the Barin and Barina. Money she 
 would not take. 
 
 " You are foreigners, I think," she said, " though your 
 man there is Russian. Here in Ukraine one does not pay 
 for a moment's rest on the road." 
 
 Katya slipped a rouble into the hand of the eldest of a 
 flock of children that had materialized out of nowhere on 
 their arrival, and went off with her father to walk in the shade 
 of the wood. Mikailo stayed behind to rub down the horses, 
 and bathe their heads in water warmed by the sun. 
 
 " And what is the matter with you of late, little Katya ? 
 Ever since Sasha and his friends arrived you have been so 
 quiet. I scarcely know my bright little girl again. And 
 you were so glad to come home to Priluka after the long time 
 in Paris." 
 
 " Papa, tell me the truth; is it anything about Priluka 
 that is worrying you and mother ?" 
 
 " Nonsense, child ! What could there be to worry us there ?" 
 
 " Or about Sasha and Elisaveta ?" 
 
 " Now what foolish stories have you been weaving in your 
 little head ?" 
 
 " Papa, is Mandelberg a friend of yours ?" 
 
 " H'm ! Friend ! No, I should hardly call him a friend. 
 He is my agent, and a clever and honest man. What on earth 
 has that to do with . . . ?" 
 
 " I don't like him." 
 
 " You hardly know him, child." 
 
 " I know him well enough to see that every time he comes 
 here or you go to see him in Odessa mother and you are always 
 worried about something afterwards. Is it not true ?" 
 
 " Even if it were so, dear, you may be sure that it is no 
 fault of his. Shall we turn back ?"
 
 112 KATYA 
 
 " Papa, I do wish you'd tell me all about it. I'm quite 
 sure I could help you." 
 
 " My brave little girl," said the Prince with a smile, " I 
 know you are clever, dear, and your husband may one day 
 be thankful for it; but all these things are a little too heavy 
 for your young shoulders. Leave them to me, dear. I'm 
 glad to have you with me, though my little Cossack, as 
 they used to call you in Paris." 
 
 " It's wrong of you, papa, to count me a child, just like 
 everybody else, and one day you may be sorry." 
 
 " I hope not, my child. See, Mikailo is ready." 
 
 Once more seated in the carriage by her father's side, Katya 
 felt almost inclined to cry with helpless vexation. She could 
 not say what it was that troubled her. There was something 
 she feared, and something she longed for, and something 
 which lay like a physical pressure just beneath her heart ; and 
 it was all mixed up together somehow, and she didn't know 
 what it all meant. 
 
 Through misty eyes she saw the broad flat landscape 
 gliding past, green plains, with here and there thatched farm- 
 houses like mushrooms set in moss, fields of poppies and sun- 
 flowers, and seas of wheat in heavy-flowing waves. The 
 ditches were bordered with a wealth of flowers; there were 
 clusters of hollyhocks against the low walls of the scattered 
 houses. Here stood a line of windmills, each scarcely higher 
 than a haystack, and all in a sad state of disrepair; there an 
 ancient oak leaned out over the road, and farther on a 
 straggling circle of poplars ineffectually hedging in a tiny 
 lake covered with water-lilies. A little river, too, wound in 
 and out one of the tributaries of the Dniepr with giant 
 thistles fringing its sandy banks. There was not a breath of 
 wind abroad, nor any sound, save now and then the distant 
 drowsy tone of sheep-bells no sign of any living creature. 
 All seemed as if swallowed up by the silence almost of a 
 desert in a land swelling with fruitfulness. The sun smiled 
 everywhere, calling back smiles again from flowers and whited 
 walls, and yet there was over the whole a quiet, strong 
 solemnity, as in a huge cathedral. The still air glowed and 
 shimmered in the heat, the sky was cloudless as a tropic 
 heaven, but the shadows were full of living, many-toned 
 colour, as in far northern lands. A land of dreams laid out
 
 KATYA LISTENS 113 
 
 between great rivers, the highway from West to East, the 
 boundary of two continents Ukraine, Ukraine ! 
 
 Towards evening the carriage drew up before the steps of 
 Patkanovo. Both Alexander Aristidovitch and Maria Pe- 
 trovna came out to meet their guests, but scarcely had Katya 
 been conducted to her room by her hostess when the latter 
 disappeared completely, seeming to vanish into a darkness 
 of which she was herself a part. Not until supper did she 
 reappear, taking her place at the table with a silently eloquent 
 prayer to the company to ignore the unhappy fact of her 
 presence there. Maria Petrovna's hair was grey, and her face 
 had the despondent sun-starved pallor associated with poverty 
 or sickness. The slightest remark addressed to her was suffi- 
 cient to send her into visible transports of fear, and Katya 
 was at last obliged to refrain from looking in her direction 
 for fear of frightening her away. 
 
 Alexander Shipagin, on the other hand, talked loudly and 
 insistently, with a deep, grumbling voice, which contrasted 
 strangely with the exaggerated piety of his words. He was 
 the wreck of a giant. His great hands trembled ceaselessly, 
 his hair and beard, both long, were pitifully thinned, and of 
 an indeterminate yellowish hue. His mighty frame was 
 loosely knit, his eyes flickering and weak. 
 
 " You should read Dostoiefski," he said to Prince Rilinski. 
 " Tolstoy is nothing compared with him, or Gogol either. I 
 pray for the soul of Nikolai Gogol, in God's holy keeping. 
 He was a scorner of holy things, my friend, and on the Last 
 Day, when he stands before the throne of our Father in 
 heaven, he will be called to account for the stain which he 
 has set on the honour of Russia." 
 
 " Of modern writers," began the Prince, " I think Tur- 
 genief . . ." 
 
 " Then you do not know Dostoiefski. Take, for instance, 
 that scene in ' Crime and Punishment,' where the murderer 
 and the prostitute are seen sitting together bent over the 
 Holy Bible. Sergei Arkadievitch, my soul has bled at those 
 words; I have suffered the tortures of hell fire when I have 
 tried to express the thoughts with which they fill me. Ah, 
 Sergei, how weak and pitiful a thing is wretched man beside 
 the power of our Almighty Father ! To some He gives, in
 
 H4 KATYA 
 
 His infinite wisdom, the fulness of grace; others are but as 
 miserable worms, writhing in the dust before His throne." 
 
 " How is Vladimir Alexandrovitch ?" asked Katya, coming 
 to the rescue at last. She felt she could not stand much 
 more of this herself. 
 
 " I do not know, Ekaterina Sergeievna. My son, alas ! 
 lives for this world, and despises the high communion with 
 God. But his mother, no doubt, will know how far he has 
 yet reached on the way that leadeth to destruction." His 
 eyes flashed with gloating malice as he launched these last 
 words at his wife. He seemed to know that he could 
 not hurt her more than by drawing her into the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 Maria Petrovna was trembling all over, desiring desperately 
 some miraculous means to vanishment. The long pause that 
 followed was painful to the guests, but Alexander Shipagin 
 was evidently enjoying it intensely. 
 
 " In the Crimea," came the answer at last, in a scarcely 
 audible whisper. 
 
 Katya was about to ask if he were alone, but checked her- 
 self in time. No one could help feeling pity for the poor 
 frightened creature who was this man's wife. 
 
 The party were waited on at table by an old servant-woman, 
 who looked as though she had just come in from the stables. 
 The food was such as peasants serve at their wedding and 
 funeral feasts, and there was not a cup or dish but bore the 
 marks of rough handling and sketchy washing. Alexander 
 Shipagin drank innumerable glasses of vodka, breaking the 
 flow of his pious discourse at the most unexpected moments 
 in order to attend to his enormous thirst. Katya nearly 
 laughed aloud when he punctuated " Our Father in ... 
 heaven," with a dram inserted after the preposition, spilling 
 half the liquor over his shaking fingers. 
 
 When the meal was over, Prince Rilinski and his host 
 retired to talk business. Maria Petrovna ushered Katya 
 into the drawing-room, where the lamps were lit, and a 
 number of books scattered about, whereupon she retired and 
 did not reappear. 
 
 Katya took a book and tried to occupy herself. It hap- 
 pened to be Dostoiefski's " Brothers Karamasof," which she 
 had long wished to read. She soon gave it up, however.
 
 KATYA LISTENS 115 
 
 The pages were soiled with grease-spots, there were crumbs 
 between the leaves, and the volume was distinctly redolent 
 of vodka. 
 
 Katya felt that a week in this house would drive her mad. 
 She could quite understand that Vladimir Shipagin preferred 
 to amuse himself elsewhere. What business could her father 
 possibly have with this man ? What meant all these mysteri- 
 ous trafnckings that rilled the air about her, and from which 
 she was so carefully excluded ? 
 
 She got up and looked about her. The place was full of 
 dull old furniture in mean decay, not a single object of any 
 distinct character, nothing that one could remember an hour. 
 On the wall were pictures of the three last Tsars, with their 
 families cheap lithographs and oleographs such as are sold 
 in thousands all over Russia. In a chipped vase stood a 
 bunch of faded grasses that now resembled a discarded broom. 
 From one pair of windows the curtains were missing; a 
 crooked cornice-pole still hung, with naked skeleton rings, to 
 mark the place where they had been. And the patches of 
 light which the lamps shed on the ceiling were spotted every- 
 where with flies. 
 
 Through the glass doors leading out to the garden she could 
 see a glimpse of an overgrown wilderness where the ghost of 
 a path melted vaguely into rank lawn. At a short distance 
 from the house the view was shut off by old birches and 
 poplars. The garden looked even more desolate than the 
 house. Not for anything would Katya have ventured out 
 there alone. 
 
 Open doors on either side led from the lighted drawing- 
 room to other apartments. Katya had noticed on her arrival 
 that the house was low and unusually long. There might be 
 twenty rooms or more along its one face, and if all were as 
 cheerful as the one in which she found herself at present 
 PatkanoVo must be a desirable residence indeed ! 
 
 Looking through one of the dark openings that gave on to 
 the adjoining rooms, she could faintly distinguish the out- 
 lines of furniture and picture-frames. She ventured in, and 
 commenced to explore in silence. There was no earthly 
 reason why she should move on tiptoe, but she found herself 
 doing so ere she was aware, following some feeling induced 
 by the silent darkness of the place, where somewhere or
 
 n6 KATYA 
 
 other Maria Petrovna had vanished like a shadow among 
 shadows. 
 
 As Katya entered the third room she became aware of 
 narrow flickering- lines of light on the wall some distance 
 beyond. The lines formed a clean quadrilateral figure, some- 
 what suggestive of an invisible picture in a thin phosphor- 
 escent frame, partly extinguished at irregular intervals in 
 different places, but always reappearing, fixed, as it were, to 
 the wall. 
 
 The temptation to investigate was irresistible. Passing 
 through two more rooms, dark and desolate as the rest, she 
 halted suddenly at the sound of voices, and moved forward 
 again with increased caution. 
 
 "Papa's voice, and Alexander Aristidovitch," she breathed 
 to herself. But there was nothing to be seen only the 
 flickering thin-lined square on the wall. 
 
 She crept closer, the desire to hear and know mastering for 
 the moment all else. 
 
 She soon discovered that the phosphorescent frame was 
 nothing more than the narrow space surrounding a loosely- 
 fitting trap in the wall, through which shone the light from 
 the room beyond. The Prince and his host were talking. 
 Katya could hear every word. 
 
 " A thousand roubles or so I don't say no." Shipagin 
 was speaking. " But I swear to you, Sergei Arkadievitch, as 
 I hope for forgiveness, the sum you speak of is impossible 
 impossible." 
 
 " You surprise me, Alexander Aristidovitch. I have ex- 
 plained the situation. You must see that it is a matter of 
 life and death to me and mine. We have been friends from 
 our childhood, and I appeal to you for help in this extremity. 
 You offer me a beggar's alms !" 
 
 " Do not forget the higher things, Sergei Arkadievitch. 
 The things of this world are as nothing the soul, the soul is 
 all. Remember the words of comfort : ' Whoso abaseth him- 
 self shall be exalted.' Believe me when I say that I, here in 
 this room, have suffered agonies beside which your troubles 
 now are slight. And what did I seek ? Did I kneel down 
 and worship the golden calf, or fall, as you, into the snares of 
 earthly pomp and splendour ? No, Sergei Rilinski no 1 If 
 I could but form one verse to carry the true message of those
 
 KATYA LISTENS 117 
 
 heavenly regions which my soul perceives, I could die happy. 
 But I cannot. My God, my God ! Thou knowest that my 
 punishment is greater than I can bear !" 
 
 " But this is madness, Alexander. Where can such fancies 
 lead you ?" 
 
 " At times there comes a message from above that the 
 hour is at hand, and then I retire into my closet, Sergei, and 
 there mortify the flesh. My soul is filled with strength; I 
 feel the beauty of the sublime about me, and poetry such 
 poetry as yet no earthly ear has heard ! But when I strive 
 to clothe these visions in words they vanish, and in their 
 place come hateful monsters trooping forth from every corner. 
 It is horrible, horrible ! And to me who suffer thus you come 
 with your vain troubles of temporal things !" 
 
 " Alexander, you have yourself a wife and child. Do you 
 think that I would have come to you on this errand if the 
 happiness of my dear ones were not more to me than my 
 own ?" 
 
 " A wife and child, you say ? Have I wife and child ? 
 Are you sure of that, Sergei ? Are they not rather the 
 enemies that compass me about, seeking to destroy the 
 noblest that is in me my power for art, my soul's communion 
 with God ?" 
 
 " Alexander, I speak to you as a friend. Give up this 
 fearful drinking before it is too late. For myself, I see now 
 that I have troubled you and Maria Petrovna to no purpose." 
 
 Katya turned from her chink, and prepared to steal away. 
 A strange fear, like a waking nightmare, was upon her. But 
 as she moved her eyes, now grown accustomed to the dark, 
 she caught the vague outline of a human form sitting motionless 
 by her side. She clasped one hand to her breast, and was 
 about to shriek aloud, when trembling fingers closed warmly 
 on her arm, and a voice whispered : 
 
 " Sh ! For God's sake, say nothing !" 
 
 It was Maria Petrovna. 
 
 " I sit here often, in case he should do anything desperate. 
 Quietly go quietly ..." 
 
 They stole silently through the dark, empty rooms. 
 
 " And I thought perhaps your father had come to speak 
 with him about Vladimir. ... I wanted so to know . . . 
 and you have all been so good to him. Heaven bless you for
 
 n8 KATYA 
 
 it. ... And he tells me nothing. ... I can only sit and 
 listen ..." 
 
 The little pitiful shadow took Katya's hand and kissed it. 
 Next moment she was gone away to some new hiding-place 
 in the great lonely house. 
 
 Next morning the slatternly maid brought Katya a little 
 note in French from her father asking her to be in readiness 
 to start for home as early as possible. Mikailo was already 
 preparing for the return journey. With ordinary care, the 
 horses could easily manage without further rest. 
 
 Prince Rilinski took leave of Alexander Shipagin in few 
 words. Towards Maria Petrovna, however, he showed that 
 courtly and delicate kindliness which was always at his com- 
 mand. With cordial sincerity he reminded her that he and 
 his, not least his wife, would be delighted to see Vladimir 
 Alexandrovitch at Priluka as soon as suited himself. 
 
 " You should come with him, Maria Petrovna; you will be 
 most heartily welcome. Anastasia Gregorievna would gladly 
 be a mother to your son as long as he is with us, but a mother 
 is not to be replaced. You will please her and all of us by 
 coming over to Priluka while Vladimir is there." 
 
 Katya put her arms round Maria Petrovna's neck and 
 kissed her. " Come," she said, " and let us be kind to you 
 a little." 
 
 Maria Petrovna was sorely tempted to run away. She did 
 not know whether it were fear or shame or thankfulness that 
 filled her eyes with tears. 
 
 Mikailo drove off at a sharp trot. Neither Prince Rilinski 
 nor his daughter turned to look back at Patkanovo. 
 
 Katya took her father's hand. He made no movement, 
 but sat looking straight ahead, visibly troubled. Mikailo on 
 the box was talking apologetically to his loved blacks. It 
 was hard on them, he admitted, to have such a hard day's 
 work again after so short a rest, but they should have all the 
 rest they wanted once they got home. " On, on, my children," 
 he called in hoarse encouragement ; " we're soon at Priluka !" 
 
 Katya had felt horribly afraid the night before, but on 
 awaking in the morning everything looked different. She 
 knew now that some great peril threatened Priluka and all 
 she loved, and to know it and share in the struggle was in-
 
 KATYA LISTENS 119 
 
 finitely better than the dreadful inactivity of looking on and 
 yet seeing nothing, knowing that the others were fighting 
 hard against something strange and fearsome that lay in 
 wait about their home. It was cruel of papa and the others 
 to treat her like a little girl. Could they not see how she had 
 grown in every way during the last year ? Could they not 
 understand what longing filled her longing uncontrollable 
 as it was indefinable for herself ? There was that in her 
 blood that seemed to press against her heart a need of 
 something, a blind seeking, which at times could make her 
 faint and giddy. What it was she did not know only that 
 it was eternal unrest, an ever-present sickness, always and 
 for ever a longing. . . . 
 
 " On, little brothers, on; we're soon at Priluka !" 
 Her father would never have made that miserable journey 
 to Patkanovo save in a case of direst need. Poor father ! so 
 clean and handsome and eloquent, in such surroundings ! A 
 splendid man, a true aristocrat. Not like the wretched little 
 Parisians, who never uttered anything but malicious epigrams 
 against their neighbours. Yesterday he had spoken kindly 
 of Mandelberg Mandelberg ! And then his manner towards 
 poor Maria Petrovna the old-fashioned courtly grace, and 
 yet so full of sincerity and warm kindliness. It was a pity 
 he dyed his hair and beard. He would look so nice with 
 quite grey hair. ... " I'll tell him so one day," thought 
 Katya. " I don't care if he does get angry. Oh, they shall 
 see if I am still a little girl !" 
 
 " On, on, little lambs; we're soon at Priluka !" 
 If only her father had not kept everything so secret all 
 along it might have been better. It was all Mandelberg, of 
 course. Something to do with Mandelberg and a horrible 
 lot of money. Ah ! Mandelberg was easy enough to deal 
 with. And it could not have been so difficult to raise the 
 money at Patkanovo if only papa had gone about it in the 
 right way and at the right time. Maria Petrovna and her 
 son needed help help to free them from the tyranny of that 
 horrible, dirty old madman. If she had only known . . . 
 that affair with Elena Dolgoruki and Vladimir Shipagin 
 could have been managed very differently . . . perhaps ic 
 would have been better never to have let him begin with her. 
 Still . . . Katya was ready to make sacrifices. Never
 
 120 KATYA 
 
 before had she felt herself so unselfish and at the same time 
 so ready for war. But Vladimir Shipagin was an empty- 
 headed boor, and conceited into the bargain a thorough 
 good-for-nothing. And now, after her visit to Patkanovo, 
 she could not think of him save as inseparably connected 
 with that dismal, ghastly place, which had no right to exist 
 here in Ukraine. 
 
 Petya was no use either, in spite of all his brave helpfulness. 
 " A good boy with a big heart," her mother had once said, 
 and it was true; but it was doubtful whether he would ever 
 be more. He had not grown in the last year, as Katya 
 herself had done ; far from it. 
 
 There was trouble to be faced and fought. This was not 
 like in Paris, where Vasili Miliukin and his wife toiled and 
 managed from morning to night for some vague and incom- 
 prehensible object something which, at all events, was not 
 their own. " Life and death to me and mine." Katya heard 
 again her father's voice, and she whispered to herself, as 
 though in answer: " Don't be afraid, papa; we are young and 
 strong, and we will help." 
 
 " Papa " she broke silence suddenly, and Prince Rilinski 
 started " Papa, is General Karatayef very rich ?" 
 
 " Good Heavens ! child, what why do you ask ?" He 
 stared at her in surprise, almost in fear. " What do you 
 mean ? How could you ..." 
 
 " Why, is there anything strange in that, papa ? I only 
 wanted to know if General Karatayef was rich richer, for 
 instance, than Alexander Shipagin ?" 
 
 " What is in your thoughts, Katya ? What are you think- 
 ing of, that you ask such questions ?" 
 
 " Well, you might answer me, I think. There's nothing 
 strange about it that I can see." 
 
 " I think he is rich, very rich, and he is a man of great 
 influence in financial circles." 
 " Thank you, papa." 
 
 Both were silent again. The Prince was thinking won- 
 dering. Again she had managed, in some strange fashion of 
 her own, to get at the root of the matter, just as she had done 
 about Mandelberg and the family jewels. What did she 
 know ? What could she have heard or seen ? He wished he 
 had never brought her on this miserable errand to that place
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 121 
 
 of ill omen. Better have been alone with his misery and 
 fear. . . . 
 
 " On, on, little friends; we're soon at Priluka !" 
 Katya felt wretched to the verge of tears. Never a soul 
 that understood her, never one that thought and felt in 
 sympathy with her. Always they seemed to glide away from 
 her, just when she felt herself so closely drawn to them, and 
 only wished that they might know how she was striving to 
 help them. No one, no one that knew how all her heart was 
 longing to love and be loved. 
 
 " Faster, Mikailo, faster; let us get home !" 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 
 
 TATIANA FEODOROVNA felt herself aggrieved at the sudden 
 order to lay the table all over again at the last moment. 
 Moreover, as far as the two unexpected late arrivals were 
 concerned, the table might just as well not have been laid 
 at all. Neither Prince Sergei nor Katya ate anything, and 
 the Princess looked as though she had been crying again. 
 All that Tatiana Feodorovna heard as to the visit to Patkanovo 
 was a single remark of Katya's: " You have no idea what a 
 horrible place it is." Then the Princess had said something 
 in French, and no further information was thereafter to be 
 gleaned on the subject. However, no doubt Mikailo would 
 be able to tell her something. 
 
 After dinner the Prince sat on the veranda with his wife; 
 the young people were drifting aimlessly about the lawn. 
 Katya had not hit upon anything for them to do, and here at 
 Priluka they were all so accustomed to follow her lead that 
 they could find nothing to do without her. 
 
 The Princess came to the rescue. " Would not Sonya like 
 to play to us a little ? And perhaps Petya would sing. You 
 can be in the drawing-room only don't make too much 
 noise. And we will sit here and listen, papa and I." 
 
 " And Niki and I, too," said Sasha. " Come along, Niki, 
 we'll sit on the steps, and listen to the children making 
 music."
 
 122 KATYA 
 
 Katya had a slight headache, and went off by herself for a 
 stroll in the park. 
 
 Nikolai Karatayef did not listen after all. He was glad 
 that it was not Sonya who sang. He loved her voice, but it 
 made him melancholy to hear, especially now, this summer, 
 reminding him as it did of that time of doubt and indecision 
 which had shamed him, in his own eyes at least. There was 
 perhaps also something of conscience that wakened in him 
 at the sound of Sonya's voice; and he would not let himself fall 
 back into that slough of painful thought. There had been 
 enough of hesitant wavering; he would show himself and 
 others that he was free now and determined as the best 
 of them. 
 
 Again this evening he had felt the toils of weak procrasti- 
 nation. Katya and her father had returned twenty-four 
 hours before anyone expected to see them, thus cutting short 
 the respite he had allowed himself before taking the final step. 
 If he were to prove himself a man, he must act now every 
 moment brought him nearer to the ultimate issue. He had 
 caught himself listening to the voice within him that sought 
 to justify a waiting till to-morrow; the unexpected return 
 was a breach of the ordered programme. He was in nowise 
 bound to shift his plans and follow. But he refused to let 
 himself be led by craven sophistry; further dallying could not 
 but make him appear worthless in her eyes as in his own. 
 She had come back from Paris lovelier and more desirable 
 than ever ; there was a touch of earnest added to the sprightly 
 mirthfulness and unwearied agility of body and mind which 
 egged him on like touches of a whip. If it were true that she 
 had written to Petya, while he himself had not received even 
 a word of greeting through Sasha if it were true ! Then 
 what use to ask ; what use to entreat ? He had been too heavy 
 and slow in his pursuit. 
 
 He rose suddenly from his seat. 
 
 " Going, Niki ? Where to ?" asked Sasha. 
 
 " Only down to the lake and back. I'll be here again 
 directly." 
 
 He strode through the park searching for Katya, and 
 trying not to feel the heated blood that throbbed in his 
 temples and about his heart. 
 
 He found her sitting on the seat where he himself had sat
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 123 
 
 once, watching her in the moonlight, and longing for the 
 courage to grasp and hold her. 
 
 Katya rose as he appeared, and called to him. 
 
 " Sit with me here a little, Nikolai Nikolaievitch. I want 
 someone near me this evening." j 
 
 Both were silent for a while, as though each knew that 
 every word spoken would weigh heavy in the scales of fate. 
 Their eyes did not meet, nor their hands touch, yet each felt 
 way to the other. 
 
 " Will you be angry if I ask you something, Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna ?" 
 
 " You cannot make me angry, I think, but you must not 
 make me feel sorry not this evening." 
 
 " Did you write to Petya Orloff from Paris ?" 
 
 " Yes, two letters." 
 
 He rose as if to go; she laid a hand on his arm. 
 
 " Why do you ask me that ?" 
 
 " Because if it is so, then I have nothing more to hope for. 
 You sent not even a word to me by Sasha." 
 
 " I never wrote to Sasha. It wasn't true, when I said so 
 the other day." 
 
 " Then why did you say it ? You don't know how it hurt 
 me. But I have no right to weary you with what hurts me. 
 I'll go and send Petya to you if you feel lonely." 
 
 " I asked you before not to make me sorry." 
 
 " I have as little power, I think, to make you sorry as to 
 make you glad, Ekaterina Sergeievna." 
 
 " Have you ever tried to make me glad ? Answer me that, 
 Nikolai Nikolaievitch, honestly, as I have answered you. 
 Have you always been true to me ?" 
 
 The boy's cheeks burned ; he dared not lift his eyes. " No," 
 he whispered, "no ... but how could you see ? . . ." 
 
 " Because I care for you." 
 
 " Do you mean that, Katya, or . . ." 
 
 " I mean it, Niki." 
 
 " Then why did you write to Petya and not to me ?" 
 
 " He asked me to. You never did." 
 
 " But do you not love him, then ?" 
 
 " No, Niki; I think it must be you." 
 
 " Ah ! Thank God ! Katya, Katya, my little queen !" 
 
 He spoke almost humbly at first, but his voice rose to
 
 124 KATYA 
 
 triumph as he took her in his arms, almost beside himself in a 
 passion of relief and joy. 
 
 Katya freed herself, and both stood panting. Then she laid 
 her head on his shoulder, and looked up at him. 
 
 " Will you now be afraid, Niki ... of Petya ... or Farring- 
 ham, when he comes ?" 
 
 " I'm not afraid of anyone now that I have you, Katya." 
 
 " But, Niki, you know, when you are sent abroad, we won't 
 go to places like Paris and London and all that; we must be 
 somewhere where it is more like Russia, Ukraine, and Priluka 
 mustn't we ?" 
 
 " It has always been my dream to go to the Balkans, and 
 now, with you, Katya, my little Princess. . . . They sing 
 your name in the Slav songs there, I know, just as Mikailo 
 sings of the Cossacks." 
 
 " You are strong, Niki, I think. And I am glad, for I need 
 you. I have longed for you, even before I knew or under- 
 stood. The year has been so long." 
 
 " Katya, let us go up to the others we must tell your 
 father and mother, and Sasha." 
 
 " No, wait ; let me. Papa is so worried just now ; you don't 
 know. But we will help him, won't we, Niki ?" 
 
 "Oh, if I only could ! I owe you all so much. . . ." 
 
 " Will you promise me not to breathe a word of what we 
 have said to each other this evening not to Sasha or Sonya 
 or Petya, until I tell you ?" 
 
 "I I don't know it seems so strange, especially 
 Sasha. . . ." 
 
 She stamped her foot impatiently. " Niki, will you 
 promise ?" 
 
 " Since you wish it, yes. But how long is it to be ?" 
 
 " Wait and see. Now I will go by myself and tell mama, 
 and you can talk to papa. Remember, Niki, he is old, and has 
 many troubles just now. Be kind to him for my sake. We 
 will meet here afterwards; if I am not here, wait. Give me a 
 kiss, you strong Niki so now go !" 
 
 " Mama," said Katya, when she had carried her mother 
 off from the others into Anastasia Gregorievna's own boudoir. 
 " Mama, I must tell you everything at once, and you must 
 be nice and kind as you always are, and understand me. I
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 125 
 
 love Niki Karatayef, and he asked me this evening, and we 
 are engaged 1" 
 
 " Katya, what do you mean, child ! . . . And I thought 
 . . . oh, it's too bad of you to play such tricks when you 
 know how your father and I . . ." 
 
 " Why must it always be tricks, everything I do ?" Katya 
 had not expected her mother to take the news like this. 
 She felt suddenly inclined to cry. 
 
 " You do not mean to say you are in earnest, child ?" 
 
 " Oh, mother, how can you be so cruel 1" Katya flung 
 herself face downwards, on the divan, and gave her tears full 
 way. The anxiety and excitement of the last two days had 
 been too much for her ; she needed the relief. 
 
 " Katya, answer me, child; is it true ?" 
 
 " Yes, mother, and we love each other, and I know I have 
 done it for my own happiness; but it was to help you too. . . ." 
 The words came in sobbing gasps; she kept her face still 
 buried in the cushions. 
 
 " Katya, this will be a death-blow to your father. And I 
 always thought. . . ." 
 
 " Oh, is there nobody that ever thinks of me !" 
 
 " There, there, child, calm yourself a little. You are 
 excited and nervous. I have seen for a long time that some- 
 thing was the matter; lie down and rest a little, dearest, and 
 let us talk things out, like we used to do." She brushed the 
 wet hair away from the girl's face. " Of course we think of 
 you, and we love you, dear. But this is impossible, Katya, 
 utterly impossible, and you must never say a word about it to 
 your father." 
 
 " Why is it impossible ? Are we ruined already ? If you 
 think Niki cares for that, you do not know him, and he will 
 tell papa so, if he has not already. . : ." 
 
 Princess Rilinski rose, and stood staring at Katya, aghast 
 and trembling. 
 
 " Has Niki Karatayef gone to tell your father of this now ? 
 Answer me, child where is he now ?" 
 
 " Yes, I think so. Oh, mother, why didn't you tell me all 
 about everything long ago, instead of leaving me to find 
 out ?" 
 
 " Child, child, you don't know what you have done. Lie 
 here a little no, go up to bed now. I must see your father."
 
 126 KATYA 
 
 " Mother, will you not bless me, as you always do, and say 
 good-night." 
 
 The Princess made the sign of the cross over her daughter's 
 head, and kissed her on forehead and cheeks. 
 
 " For both of us for Niki and me," whispered Katya. 
 
 " There, child, go to bed now, and try to calm yourself a 
 little. Ah, your poor, poor father !" 
 
 " Mother, you don't know how cleverly I can manage foi 
 us all." 
 
 But the Princess was already in search of her husband. 
 
 Katya stole out by another way, and went down into the 
 park, trying as she went to remove all traces of tears. She 
 had not forgotten that tears did not suit her. 
 
 Prince Rilinski sat at his writing-table, leaning back in a 
 chair. In one hand he held a paper-knife, stamped with the 
 family arms; from time to time he laid the blade gently 
 against his forehead, or let it fall into his palm. He looked 
 utterly weary, but his composure was perfect ; Niki Karatayef , 
 who was walking nervously up and down the great room, 
 thought he had never seen the Prince so haughty and coldly 
 dignified. 
 
 " I am deeply pained, Nikolai; also on your behalf. You 
 will understand that your stay at Priluka is now at an end. 
 I do not mean to say that you are to leave to-morrow or the 
 day after that would seem remarkable. But you will find 
 some excuse or other to take your departure within the week. 
 I leave it entirely to yourself." 
 
 " My God ! Am I, then, a criminal that you thrust me 
 from your house because I love Katya and she me ?" Niki 
 Karatayef was striving to retain his coolness. 
 
 " I have already told you, I think, that both Anastasia 
 Gregorievna and I are indebted to you for your kindness to 
 Sasha. You have been a good friend to my son, Nikolai, 
 and we have been fond of you. And, therefore, you can, I 
 hope, take leave of me and of us all without bitterness as we 
 of you. If ever in the future I can be of any assistance to 
 you in any way whatever, I should be glad if you would come 
 to me, and let me see that you have forgotten this painful 
 episode." 
 
 " But why ? . . . Prince, all that you say only makes it
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 127 
 
 more and more difficult for me to understand why you now 
 turn me away from Priluka, which has been a home to me, 
 and from Katya, whom I love more than all. . . ." 
 
 " It pains me, Nikolai, to continue this conversation; I beg 
 you to believe that neither of us have anything to gain by so 
 doing. My daughter Ekaterina lacks yet two months of 
 eighteen. And even though she may be more developed in 
 many ways than other girls of her age, she cannot bind herself 
 for life. To take her by surprise in this way. . . ." 
 
 " I have not taken her by surprise. You have no right to 
 say " 
 
 " Nikolai Karatayef, remember where you are, and to 
 whom you are speaking." 
 
 " Oh, I know I am so much younger, and that my father 
 is neither the equal in rank . . . nor in other ways ... of 
 Prince Rilinski; I know also that I owe you and all at 
 Priluka a gratitude which I can never express. . . . Ever 
 since my mother died. ..." 
 
 " You have nothing to reproach yourself there, Niki; you 
 have always shown yourself grateful for anything we have 
 been able to do." 
 
 " But I can't bear to hear you say that I have abused your 
 kindness, and taken Katya by surprise. You know your 
 daughter but little, Prince, if you think that possible." 
 
 " I have told you that our conversation would not gain by 
 being prolonged." 
 
 " But the reason what reason can you have ..." 
 
 There came a knock at the door, and Anastasia Gregorievna 
 entered. 
 
 " Katya has just been telling me about it. She was greatly 
 distressed, poor child. And hearing that Niki was with you, 
 dear, I thought I ought to come." 
 
 " I thank you, my dear. I think Nikolai and I have no 
 more to say. He has decided to leave Priluka within the 
 week. There is no need to waste more words on the matter." 
 
 " You poor children . . . how could you !" The Princess 
 sent Niki a look that was full of kindness and sympathy. 
 Once she had satisfied herself that her husband was calm and 
 quiet, her next thought was for the young people themselves. 
 
 "But I cannot leave here; I will not leave this room before 
 I have been told why it is I am to be treated thus. Anastasia
 
 128 KATYA 
 
 Gregorievna, you have always been kind to me; tell me, what 
 have I done what stain is on my name, that Katya and I 
 may not have each other, although I love her and she loves 
 me ? Did she not tell you that she loved me ?" 
 
 " Yes, Niki, she said so. But remember you are both so 
 young, and know so little of life; it would be bitter indeed 
 for you and for us if you should find it was a mistake after all." 
 
 " That I can understand perfectly well; I have also thought 
 of it myself all this last year. But, then, surely it would be 
 enough if you asked us to wait a little before getting married 
 like Sasha and Elisaveta. I should not be afraid of waiting, 
 I should wait for Katya, never fear, and now that I have her 
 promise, I know she would wait for me." 
 
 " Enough; it is enough !" Prince Rilinski flung down his 
 knife with an impatient movement. " Am I to be questioned 
 and judged here in my own house ?" 
 
 " Sergei, my dear. . . ." 
 
 " But do you not see, Your Highness, that you are casting a 
 suspicion upon me without giving me an opportunity to clear 
 or defend myself ?" 
 
 " No, Niki, no !" interposed the Princess hastily. The 
 boy was trembling with passion, and her husband, she could 
 see, was restraining himself with difficulty. " We think 
 nothing but good of Sasha's faithful friend." 
 
 " Then why not speak ? Let me know the truth, however 
 cruel it may be. If you wish to be kind, then at least give 
 me something I can see and understand." 
 
 There was something fierce, almost brutal, in his manner; 
 he could hardly control himself. The Princess was growing 
 anxious; at any moment Niki or her husband might say or 
 do that which never could be repaired. 
 
 " Niki, be sensible," she said. " You cannot demand to 
 be told what plans Sergei Arkadievitch has for his daughter's 
 future." 
 
 " You forget that Katya and I . . ." 
 
 " Go !" Prince Rilinski pointed to the door. 
 
 " Very well, I will go. But Ka.tya I will have, though I 
 tear her by force from Priluka !" 
 
 The door crashed to behind him. 
 
 Prince Rilinski sat staring silently at nothing, while his 
 wife stroked his hand.
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 129 
 
 " Ruin and misery and I have brought it on you all, 
 Anastasia. God's wrath is fallen upon me." 
 
 " Sh ! Sergei, my husband, let us face it together. Come, 
 dear, you need rest. To-morrow you will be calm; we can 
 talk of what is to be done, and you shall see it will be easier 
 to bear." 
 
 She went with him up to his room. It was late, and all was 
 silent about the white palace with its roses and the ivy 
 climbing round the high, dark windows. 
 
 Nikolai Karatayef went through the park to the spot where 
 Katya was waiting. He caught her in his arms with a violence 
 that made her tremble. She could see he was excited 
 furious. 
 
 " Katya, your father turns me away from Priluka. He 
 hates me, and he will not tell me why." 
 
 " Sit down here beside me, Niki, and be very quiet." She 
 smiled up at him. " Strong Niki. I am glad it is dark, and 
 you cannot see; I have been crying. You must never make 
 me cry, Niki. . . . No, no, sit quite still and tell me something 
 I am going to ask you." 
 
 " Katya, how can you be so calm ? I tell you your father 
 has sent me away turned me from his door. . . ." 
 
 " Now you are like Petya, Niki. There was something he 
 said to me once, by the way that I should steer, because I 
 was the clever one. ..." 
 
 " Katya, why must you make me more wretched than I am ?" 
 
 " Oh, listen, stupid boy, and hear what I have to say. 
 Tell me, has Mandelberg much to do with your father ? 
 Have they business together, I mean ?" 
 
 " Yes, I think so. Mandelberg lives in our house in the 
 Konnaya, and all that I know of my father's business affairs 
 I have heard from Mandelberg." 
 
 " Then I see it all !" Katya rose and clapped her hands 
 together. " And they thought to hide it from me !" 
 
 " I am still no wiser, Katya. What does it all mean ?" He 
 gazed admiringly at the girl; her bright courage was both a 
 comfort and a charm. 
 
 " Can't you see ? It's all clear as day. Niki, you must not 
 be so slow if we are to get on together. Neither papa nor 
 mama have anything against you, Niki. . . ." 
 
 9
 
 130 KATYA 
 
 " They said as much, both of them." 
 
 " Of course; it's your father; papa hates him." 
 
 " He never said a word about my father." 
 
 " He never would. But I could have made him speak up 
 for your father, however much he hated him. I know papa 
 it's easy enough to manage him." 
 
 " Cossack, little Cossack I" Niki could not refrain from 
 taking her in his arms again. 
 
 " You may call me so if you like now and then. But you 
 can dare ever to call me ' petite Rilinski ' !" 
 
 " But couldn't you explain things a little more clearly, 
 dear ?" 
 
 " Ah ! Papa's affairs with Mandelberg have turned out 
 badly, very badly; that I know, but never mind how. And 
 in some way or another it's critical just now; that I have 
 found out, too. And on the way home from Patkanovo . . . 
 no, I don't think you need know anything about that. But 
 after I had spoken with mama, and you with papa, it was 
 clear as day. Your father is very rich, and he has something 
 to do with this Mandelberg business. Now do you see ?" 
 
 " I think I begin to. . . ." 
 
 " And now the best thing you can do is to go to ycur father 
 at once, and get matters settled. Is he fond of you ? Do 
 you think he will be angry with you for taking me ?" 
 
 " Katya, you are splendid !" The boy was intoxicated 
 with passion and admiration. But next moment he put 
 his hands to his head. " And yet somehow I'm half afraid 
 of you." 
 
 " No, Niki, you are strong; I did not think men could be 
 so strong or that I could care so much for you." 
 
 " Katya, do you know, now suddenly I think of my mother ? 
 For I am happy now, as happy as a man can be. One day 
 I will tell you about her." 
 
 " And now you will do what I say ?" 
 
 " I have spoken to my father about you, and he knows I 
 love you. I can easily get him to help me to help us both. 
 He said himself, before I left, that if your father or mother 
 refused their consent, after you had said yes, I was to telegraph 
 to him before I shot ..." 
 
 He did not mean to say so much, but it was out before he 
 could think.
 
 NIKI IS DISMISSED 131 
 
 " Niki " she crept quite close to him " Niki, would you 
 have shot yourself if I had said no ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh, Niki, I believe it, I do ! And I love you for it !" She 
 flung her arms round his neck and held him close. 
 
 " Niki," she whispered a moment later, " there's no need 
 for you to go. I know something better. You just stay 
 here. We'll telegraph to your father to come, and then /'// 
 talk to him !" 
 
 " Very well, if you think that's best." 
 
 " Niki, do you want to tell Sasha wry much ?" 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " Then you may tell him quietly some time to-morrow. 
 But not a word to any of the others !" 
 
 " But when Sasha hears how your father and mother 
 have taken it. . . ." 
 
 " Then you have only to say it is all settled. But we've 
 no time to lose, Niki; you must go in at once to Dubni and 
 telegraph to your father." 
 
 " The telegraph office is shut." 
 
 " Never mind. Hand it in at the railway-station, and it 
 will be sent off first thing to-morrow morning. Remember, 
 every hour is of importance. And if your father does not get 
 the telegram early to-morrow, he won't be able to get here 
 by the day after. Hurry, Niki, we don't know what may 
 happen meantime." 
 
 She led him through the park to the stables, silencing the 
 dogs that came dashing up out of the dark to turn and follow 
 expectantly at the heels of their mistress. Stopping outside 
 a little white thatched house, with nodding rows of hollyhocks 
 and sunflowers, she knocked at the window. 
 
 " Mikailo, it is I, Katya; get up ! I want Murad now, at once!" 
 
 " I am coming, little lamb, I am coming !" 
 
 And a few moments later he appeared, half dressed, and 
 with his long hair and beard in disorder. 
 
 " Now, Mikailo, first of all, if you dare to breathe a word 
 to a soul. . . ." 
 
 " Sh ! Little lamb, I am dumb. Neither the old woman 
 nor the little ones shall say a word. Do not fear, Barishna !" 
 
 " Saddle Murad at once; Nikolai Nikolaievitch rides to 
 Dubni. And you will wait up till he returns."
 
 132 KATYA 
 
 As soon as Niki had mounted, he reached down a hand to bid 
 her good-bye. But she shook her head, and, taking the bridle 
 rein, led Murad by little ways and paths she knew out on to 
 the broad road close by the patch of grass and sand where 
 the gipsy had told her fortune. " Happiness and wealth, but 
 first a journey over seven rivers and through five towns." 
 
 " Ride, Niki, ride I wait you at Priluka !" 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 VM VICTIS ! 
 
 " I CANNOT understand the child, Sergei; it's a mystery to 
 me. I thought all along that Sonya was Niki's favourite; 
 Heaven knows what she thinks of it all. . . . But Katya ! I 
 left her last night nervous, excited, in tears. And to-day she 
 is as merry as a bird, and has been haymaking with Petya all 
 the morning." 
 
 " And Nikolai Karatayef have you seen anything of him 
 to-day ?" 
 
 " Very little. He went off for a long walk with Sasha they 
 have come back, but I've no idea where they are now." 
 
 " Then, of course, he's told Sasha the whole story. The 
 end of it will be that I shall have to face my own son and 
 answer for what I have done. It's not so bad with Elisaveta; 
 she has a good heart and a clever head. But I dare not think 
 what Vasili Pavlovitch will say to the . . . disaster that is 
 coming." 
 
 " Do not despair so soon, Sergei. Even though Alexander 
 Shipagin has refused, we are not without friends elsewhere." 
 
 " My dear, you do not know how pitifully little one dare 
 trust to friends in need. All are not as you, dear." 
 
 " But there is the Nobles' Bank; there is the Government, 
 which you have served so well ; the Empress, who has always 
 been a friend to you. ..." 
 
 " No ! If it were a case of temporary assistance or support, 
 I might perhaps approach the Ministry, or even Her Majesty. 
 But speculations that have proved disastrous you can see 
 for yourself it is impossible. And the Nobles' Bank is a 
 business institution like any other bank, not a charitable
 
 VJE VICTIS ! 133 
 
 organization. They might perhaps help me to save some- 
 thing from the wreck, but that is all. No, dear, it is disaster 
 no use to close our eyes any longer." 
 
 " Did you tell Katya anything on the journey ? Some- 
 thing she said yesterday seemed to. . . ." 
 
 " Nothing that is to say, in answer to a question of hers I 
 admitted that I was worried about business matters. And 
 she herself spoke to me several times in a manner which 
 seemed to indicate that she knew a great deal, or, at any rate, 
 had guessed much." 
 
 " Could she have heard anything at Patkanovo ?" 
 
 " I cannot see how she could have done so. You know 
 what a big place it is; there were four or five rooms at least 
 between the one where she sat reading and the one in which 
 we were, behind closed doors." 
 
 " I do not understand the child; so frank and open, and 
 yet full of mysterious intrigues. And it is unnatural, her 
 manner to-day, after the trouble of yesterday. . . . Yes, I 
 know, my dear, we were forced to act as we did. . . . But 
 it makes me nervous. She has not been herself for weeks, 
 and now this forced gaiety of tone. . . ." 
 
 There was a knock at the door; Dimitri entered with a 
 telegram. 
 
 " By horsed messenger from Dubni, Your Highness. The 
 messenger is waiting." 
 
 Prince Rilinski read the message and handed it to his wife. 
 
 " There is no answer, Dimitri. See that the messenger 
 has something before he goes." 
 
 " Permit me pay Your Highness short visit Priluka to- 
 morrow, Thursday, 
 
 "N. F. KARATAYEF." 
 
 " Sergei what does it mean ?" 
 
 " Disaster !" 
 
 Both sat for a while in silence. Then Anastasia Grigorievna 
 asked quietly: " You do not think it could be about Katya 
 and Nikolai ?" 
 
 " How could he know this morning in Odessa of what 
 happened late last night at Priluka ?" 
 
 " You will receive him ?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear. No one has yet called me a coward."
 
 134 KATYA 
 
 " Sergei, tell me the truth what harm can this man do to 
 you ?" 
 
 " He can ruin me and all of us." 
 
 " But I thought . . . you always said it was the Kherson 
 Bank." 
 
 " Ostensibly, yes. In reality it is General Karatayef ; at 
 any rate as regards the greater part of the amount." 
 
 The Prince paced up and down without visible sign of 
 emotion; he seemed to be calling up some inward reserve of 
 strength for the fight to come. And his wife saw how Katya 
 at tunes was like her father. 
 
 " Would it not be wise to ask Mandelberg to be present ? 
 He is a lawyer you have always spoken so well of him. ..." 
 
 " I know what Mandelberg's advice will be, and I cannot 
 foUow it." 
 
 " Sasha, then for I suppose it is impossible for me 
 to. . . ." 
 
 Prince Rilinski touched his wife's hair lightly with his lips. 
 
 " I thank you, dear, I thank you. And Heaven reward you 
 for your faithfulness. It may be I shall need you." 
 
 All day Nikolai Karatayef tried in vain to steal a moment 
 alone with Katya. At meals she spoke to him less, if any- 
 thing, than usual. Sasha, on the other hand, she kept care- 
 fully within call, and prevented any possibility of a meeting 
 in the Club. It was long since she had found so much 
 to tell of Paris, and in all she told Elisaveta Miliukin's name 
 was foremost. When she wanted a rest, she started Sonya off 
 with anecdotes from her stay at Dolgoruki's, or demanded of 
 Petya detailed descriptions of life at the Officers' School. All 
 found it very amusing with the exception of Niki Karatayef, 
 who felt ill at ease, especially in the presence of the Prince 
 and Princess, though neither showed the slightest recollection, 
 in word or manner, of what had passed between them the 
 day before. 
 
 In the evening, at late tea, Mikailo came in to ask about 
 orders for the morrow ; he had heard from Tatiana Feodorovna 
 that guests were expected to arrive. 
 
 " Is anyone coming, mama ?" asked Katya. 
 
 The Prince broke in before his wife had time to answer. 
 " You will drive to the station," he said, addressing Mikailo,
 
 VM VICTIS ! 135 
 
 "to-morrow at the usual time; the carriage and the two 
 blacks, if they are sufficiently rested after yesterday." 
 
 " Very good, Your Highness. And whom shall I meet at 
 the station ?" 
 
 " General Karatayef." 
 
 " I say, that's jolly !" exclaimed Katya. " Is your father 
 coming, Nikolai Nikolaievitch ?" And, turning to Mikailo, 
 she begged him to take another glass of tea. 
 
 " I thank you, Ekaterina Sergeievna. Tea is a blessed gift 
 of the good God. Then I take Nikolai Nikolaievitch with 
 me, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Of course. Papa, would it not be correct for one of us to 
 go with him to meet General Karatayef ? I will drive with 
 you, Nikolai Nikolaievitch." 
 
 It was so naturally and yet so decisively said that it was 
 almost impossible to make any objection without betraying 
 what as yet was best concealed. The Prince and Princess 
 glanced uneasily at each other. Sasha strove to hide a 
 smile. Nikolai Karatayef flushed uncomfortably. Petya and 
 Sonya noticed nothing ; it did not occur to them to expect any 
 reply to Katya's words. Only Mikailo coughed, and per- 
 mitted himself a glance of something approaching accessory 
 understanding ; after that little business with Murad the night 
 before, he had his own idea of what it all meant. 
 
 " You understand, Mikailo," said the Prince. " Was there 
 anything more ?" 
 
 " That was all, Your Highness. I thank you." 
 
 " Then we shall have lunch to-morrow as soon as the train 
 has come in," said the Princess; " please remember that, all 
 of you. You understand, Tanya." And all rose from table. 
 
 Katya said good-night shortly after, and disappeared. 
 Next morning Dimitri was sent to bring her a message from 
 the Princess, who wished to speak with her. But the girl was 
 nowhere to be found. Petya explored the park without 
 success, and Sasha was beginning to feel anxious, when 
 Tanya appeared with the information that one of the maids 
 had seen her on the road to Dubni ; Mikailo was to take her up 
 on the way. 
 
 General Karatayef stepped out of his compartment and 
 was received with great respect on all sides. He was in
 
 r 3 6 KATYA 
 
 uniform ; that was nothing unusual; on this occasion, however, 
 he appeared to have donned his best. His General's cloak, 
 turned up and lined with red, shone magnificently in the sun, 
 and attracted the attention of the crowd. 
 
 He kissed the young Princess's hand, and she returned the 
 salutation in the customary manner with a kiss on his forehead. 
 Father and son embraced. The whole scene was watched 
 with deep interest by the bystanders on the platform and 
 the travellers in the train. The words " Priluka," " Prince 
 Rilinski," flew from mouth to mouth. " What General is 
 that ?" asked a voice from a window, without regard to who 
 might hear. " You do not know, little brother ?" " Ask 
 and see, my lamb." 
 
 " This way, if Your Excellency pleases." The station- 
 master stalked in front, impressive and impressed. 
 
 " My servant we ought perhaps. . . ." The General 
 cast a glance around, seeking for Osip. It was not easy to 
 find him, surrounded as he was at the moment by a deeply 
 interested audience to whom he volunteered most detailed 
 information as to the career and antecedents of General 
 Nikolai Feodorovitch Karatayef, late of the Army Supply 
 Corps, now resident in Odessa, and of a certain village in the 
 neighbourhood of Tomsk, where such of Kapitolina's kin as 
 were yet alive waited her return and that of himself, Osip. 
 Osip had found excellent opportunity for narrative during the 
 journey. And the station of Dubni was eager to hear more; 
 the little train would gladly have disregarded schedule and 
 regulation for the sake of further revelations. It was a pity 
 that an imperative voice calling for " Osip !" should put an 
 end to the tales. Fortunately, however, there was still 
 Mikailo, dignified and resplendent on his box. Osip had yet 
 an audience. 
 
 " Now, not too fast to-day, Mikailo," said Katj^a, when they 
 were seated. " It is only nine verst," she explained to the 
 General, " and Niki and I have so much to tell you." 
 
 " Tell me everything, children; remember, I know nothing 
 beyond what the telegram said." 
 
 " It was good of you to come, Nikolai Feodorovitch." She 
 pressed the General's hand. " Now you tell, Niki." 
 
 Niki explained to his father how matters stood, and told 
 ''how Katya had found out what she believed to be the secret
 
 VICTIS ! 137 
 
 of Prince Rilinski's sudden and otherwise inexplicable hos- 
 tility. 
 
 " Yes," said General Karatayef slowly, playing with his 
 cross, " I think I understand." 
 
 " And you can help us, father ?" 
 
 " I hope so, my son." 
 
 " Will it be very hard, do you think, Nikolai Feodorovitch, 
 to make papa like you ?" asked Katya, without the least 
 embarrassment. 
 
 " How do you. ... I am afraid I don't quite under- 
 stand " 
 
 " Slower, Mikailo ! . . . I mean, will it be difficult for you 
 to help Niki and me ?" 
 
 " I hope to be able to overcome Prince Rilinski's objections 
 to your happiness, child." 
 
 " And in such a way " there was a touch of dogged 
 insistence in the girl's tone " that papa will like Niki too ?" 
 
 " I am afraid I can scarcely answer for the Prince's feelings." 
 
 " Niki !" Katya turned reproachfully to the boy. " You 
 promised not to make me sorry 1" 
 
 " But what on earth can I do, Katya ? I don't know what 
 it is you want of me." 
 
 " But you, Nikolai Feodorovitch you understand ?" 
 
 " I must admit, I scarcely see. ..." 
 
 " Do you not mean to make Niki happy ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do, Ekaterina Sergeievna. His mother and I 
 have lived for nothing else." 
 
 " Niki spoke so nicely to me about his mother." 
 
 " I thank you, my boy. I know now that you have been 
 happy, then." 
 
 " But Niki, could you ever be happy again if you knew that 
 I was always longing for Priluka, and we could never go back 
 there any more, you and I, because papa and mama and 
 Sasha and Sonya hated us ?" 
 
 " Katya, how can you !" 
 
 The General looked at her keenly. But she kept her eyes 
 fixed on Niki's face, and went on quickly: 
 
 " Niki, if it came to that, I think it would be my turn to 
 shoot myself." 
 
 The boy broke from her glance, and turned to his father, 
 with a despairing movement of the hands:
 
 138 KATYA 
 
 " Father, help me ' 
 
 It was the cry of one in deadly peril. Mikailo and Osip 
 turned half round, and the General looked startled. But 
 Katya said simply : 
 
 " Thank you, Niki." Then calling aloud to Mikailo, she 
 bade him drive faster. 
 
 General Karatayef was pacing up and down the floor in 
 Prince Rilinski's study. The Prince sat at his writing-table, 
 playing with the ivory paper-knife. 
 
 " I have come, Sergei Arkadievitch, to ask on behalf of my 
 son for your daughter Ekaterina's hand." 
 
 " When you sent off your telegram yesterday morning, 
 Nikolai Feodorovitch, you could not possibly have known 
 what had taken place here at Priluka the evening before. I 
 presume that your son and my daughter, who met you to-day, 
 as I beg you to believe, much against my wife's and my own 
 desire, have explained the situation to you on the way, and 
 that you have altered the object of your visit accordingly." 
 
 " I am here for my son's sake, and for no other reason. 
 Early yesterday morning I received a telegram from him 
 requesting me to come immediately, as his wishes with regard 
 to Ekaterina Sergeievna had met with unexpected and inex- 
 plicable opposition, not from the young lady herself, but from 
 her parents. What could I do but come ? What would you 
 have done in my place, Sergei Arkadievitch ? Niki is my 
 only child." 
 
 " But this is conspiracy ! Is your son, then, in partnership 
 with you, Nikolai Feodorovitch, and is it your object to take 
 my daughter from me with the rest ?" 
 
 " Your words are an insult both to my son and to myself, 
 Sergei Arkadievitch; such a suggestion is unworthy of a man 
 of honour." 
 
 " My honour is in my own keeping; I require no teaching 
 on that point, if you please. As to the request which you 
 make on behalf of your son, my wife and I must decline to 
 accede to your wishes. Your son is already aware of our 
 decision, and will, I presume, leave Priluka with you to- 
 morrow. And now we can leave that question as settled, and 
 turn to your other business." 
 
 " No, Sergei Arkadievitch, we cannot. This is no question
 
 VICTIS ! 139 
 
 of business, but of the happiness of two young people. You 
 are making a mistake, Prince Rilinski; you imagine you are 
 dealing with the Kherson Bank, or Mandelberg and Kru- 
 shofski, whereas it is Nikolai's father who speaks to you now. 
 And let me tell you at once, to avoid irreparable misfortune 
 which your tone seems to threaten let me tell you, Sergei 
 Arkadievitch, that Nikolai Karatayef's father loves his son as 
 well as Ekaterina Rilinski's parents love their daughter, and 
 that he can be as merciless as they when his child's happiness 
 is at stake." 
 
 " Merciless ! You threaten me, General Karatayef ? Here 
 in my own house, you dare to. . . ." 
 
 " For God's sake, Sergei Arkadievitch, do not let our 
 private dissension ruin the happiness of our children." 
 
 " Both are young enough to change their minds. And in 
 any case it must be my business, not yours, to safeguard the 
 happiness of my daughter." 
 
 " Again you are wrong, Sergei Arkadievitch. You forget 
 that my son loves her ; you would perhaps like to forget that 
 she loves my son." 
 
 " A childish passion, a holiday infatuation; it will pass as 
 soon as they are no longer together." 
 
 " It is evident that you do not know my son. He is quiet 
 and gentle as a rule, but his nature is violent ; even as a child 
 his temperament was the cause of much anxiety to his mother 
 and myself. The friendship of j^our son Alexander has 
 influenced him for good ; the whole atmosphere of this kindly 
 and hospitable home has been of great importance to his 
 development, and I thank your wife and yourself from my 
 heart for your goodness to my boy. But his character is 
 unchanged. I have read somewhere or other these words of 
 Xavier le Maistre: ' Bury the wish of a single Slav beneath 
 the foundations of a castle, and the whole will be shattered.' 
 His years of study in Moscow have influenced him in the same 
 way. He is a Slav to the core, Sergei Arkadievitch, a Russian 
 to the last drop of blood. A little slow, a little heavy, but 
 of ungovernable passion when once roused. Even if he had 
 not said as much to me, I should have understood that this 
 was life or death to him, and it is therefore I am here." 
 
 " All this has not the least effect upon my wife's and my 
 decision; nothing can alter that."
 
 I 4 o KATYA 
 
 " You speak foolishly, Sergei Arkadievitch. ... I beg your 
 pardon," he added, as the Prince rose haughtily to his feet. 
 " The expression was not well chosen. I beg you to forget 
 it. But I must again entreat you, Sergei Arkadievitch, to 
 remember that I am Niki's father. I do not forget that Katya 
 is your daughter." 
 
 " She has acted to-day as no daughter of mine; her mother 
 and I " 
 
 " Because she came to meet me at the station ? You mean 
 that this was an idea of her own carried out against her 
 parents' wish ?" There was a slight accent of doubt in the 
 General's tone. 
 
 " When I gave the coachman his orders yesterday evening 
 in connection with your expected arrival, she declared that 
 she would drive to meet you, and in such a manner that it was 
 impossible for my wife or myself to forbid it in the presence of 
 the others, without unpleasantness or even scandal. I asked 
 Anastasia Grigorievna afterwards to put a stop to this most 
 unsuitable proceeding ; this morning, however, when my wife 
 sent for her, Katya was already on the way to Dubni. She 
 has deeply offended us both in the matter." 
 
 " I am glad you have told me this, Sergei Arkadievitch; I 
 thank you." 
 
 " You are content with very little, Nikolai Feodorovitch." 
 
 There was a pause. General Karatayef, pacing up and 
 down, searched the floor intently. 
 
 " Will you permit me, Sergei Arkadievitch" the General 
 spoke hesitatingly " to put a question to you ?" 
 
 " I have neither the power nor the wish to avoid any discus- 
 sion concerning matters of business." 
 
 " Business h'm this can perhaps scarcely be called. . . . 
 I do not quite know, myself. . . . May I ask, what does 
 your daughter Ekaterina know of your dealings with the 
 Kherson Bank ? " 
 
 " She has dared to speak to you about that ? By Heaven !" 
 The Prince sprang up with a furious gesture. 
 
 " She knows, then ?" The General's eyes were fixed on a 
 crack in the floor. 
 
 " Great God, what shame has she brought upon us all 1" 
 
 The Prince breathed heavily. " What has she said what 
 vile suspicion has she given you, Nikolai Feodorovitch ?"
 
 VJE VICTIS ! 141 
 
 " Do not say ' vile.' Neither of us have anything to gain 
 by using ugly words." 
 
 " You are right I beg your pardon. But I beg you to 
 speak out; I cannot bear this much longer." 
 
 " From my brief conversation with Ekaterina Sergeievna 
 on the way, I gathered that she was acquainted with your 
 relations to the Kherson Bank, and er the present position 
 of affairs." 
 
 " I swear to you on my honour that I have never spoken a 
 word to her on the matter, nor to any of my children ; I have 
 kept the whole affair a profound secret." 
 
 " Niki explained to me somewhat incoherently, it is true, 
 but we had little time, and he was excited that your daughter 
 seemed somehow to have discovered by herself. ..." 
 
 " My wife and I discussed the same question yesterday. It 
 is incomprehensible to us both how she can have managed to 
 get at the root of a matter of which my son has no suspicion, 
 and of which my wife knows nothing but the bare out- 
 lines." 
 
 " No papers left about, no conversation with Mandelberg, 
 for instance that could have been overheard ?" 
 
 " Impossible I I must beg you to believe my word." 
 
 Again a pause ensued, broken only by the Prince repeating 
 soft to himself, " Mysterious mysterious 1" 
 
 " I thank you again, Sergei Arkadievitch," said the General 
 at last, " for your frankness. Mandelberg once said to me 
 that he thought your daughter Katya would be a difficult 
 young lady to deal with. He meant, of course, no offence. 
 And I am beginning to think he was right. At the same time, 
 I find it more and more difficult to understand your wife and 
 yourself." 
 
 " How ? What do you mean ?" 
 
 " You said a few minutes ago that your daughter and my 
 son were merely suffering from a summer infatuation. I have 
 already told you that in Niki's case you are making a great 
 mistake. And the same is true as regards Katya." 
 
 " We shall see. In the meantime I must ask you to leave 
 that to my wife and myself." 
 
 " But you must be blind, Sergei Arkadievitch. Your 
 pride, and yes, let me speak out for once your hate of me 
 have made you blind, Prince Rilinski. Do not interrupt me,"
 
 I 4 2 KATYA 
 
 the General went on firmly, as the Prince made an impatient 
 movement; "I do not deny that there are many things 
 which I may well envy you in life . . . more, perhaps, than you 
 imagine. But, thank God, as a father, I am stronger and 
 better than you. My dead wife would have understood me in 
 this moment." 
 
 He crossed himself reverently. 
 
 " I have no wish to hear theatrical recitations, Nikolai 
 Feodorovitch, nor do I intend myself to declaim upon the 
 subject of my feelings for you. Our business together is of 
 quite another character and I shall be glad if you will come 
 to the point." 
 
 The General, who had stopped his pacing up and down, 
 recommenced now more restlessly than before. He drew his 
 coat about him and shook himself; his eyes searched the floor 
 in all directions. 
 
 " Sergei Arkadievitch," he said at last, his voice trembling, 
 " you despise me. I know it. I could wish that Anastasia 
 Grigorievna were here." 
 
 " My wife has no concern with our business affairs at any 
 rate, not at present." 
 
 " You are right. We must first get matters settled on that 
 point." It was a warm day in July, but General Karatayef 
 seemed to find it cold. Prince Rilinski drew himself up in his 
 chair. 
 
 " I have told you already, Sergei Arkadievitch, that my only 
 business at Priluka was to request the hand of your daughter 
 Ekaterina for my son. And it is true." The General spoke 
 with difficulty. " But I can, if necessary, do more than 
 request : I can demand. And for my son's sake I am ready to 
 do so." 
 
 The Prince laughed a hard, scornful laugh. 
 
 " Do not laugh, Sergei Arkadievitch. You have won no 
 victory. You are a poorer man than I had thought." 
 
 " I and my house are fallen on evil days, Nikolai Feodoro- 
 vitch. But I do not fear you." 
 
 " I have no wish that you should fear me. We have not got 
 so far as that. But why speak to me of your misfortunes ? 
 Have I asked you to borrow money of me ? Have I in any 
 single instance advised you to your loss ? Is it I who have 
 drawn you into speculations which you alone knew were
 
 VM VICTIS t 143 
 
 beyond your means ? No, Prince Rilinski, the truth of the 
 matter is this : you dare not admit even to yourself that you 
 have brought misfortune upon yourself." 
 
 " I have not accused you, General Karatayef. Your 
 defence is unnecessary." 
 
 " Yet you hate me; most of all you hate me. You turn my 
 son out of your house, and do not hesitate to ruin both his and 
 your own daughter's happiness merely to gratify your hate. 
 You are even prepared to sacrifice your whole family in order 
 to punish a man against whom you can bring no shadow of an 
 accusation. No, Prince Rilinski, you have won no victory 
 not even over yourself." 
 
 " And you, General Karatayef, what is your triumph 
 beyond the fact of having brought this house to ruin ?" 
 The Prince's tone was somewhat lower; he was feeling 
 weary. 
 
 " I will tell you that in a moment. But first let me say that 
 the Kherson Bank, while continuing its present relations with 
 yourself, will, as soon as I return to Odessa, place to the 
 account of your daughter Ekaterina such funds as may be 
 necessary for the completion of your building operations in 
 Peressip, without demanding further security. The capital 
 will be administered as heretofore, by the firm of Mandelberg 
 and Krushofski, who will thus act as agents for your 
 daughter." 
 
 " You are abusing my hospitality, Nikolai Feodorovitch." 
 The Prince stamped his foot. " I have controlled myself as 
 far as possible, but this is too much. Here, in my own house, 
 you propose to me to me to sell my daughter. ..." 
 
 " Have I expressed a wish to purchase her ? The Kherson 
 Bank will demand neither security nor any recompense." 
 
 " Your meaning was clear enough." 
 
 " And yet you have not understood, Sergei Arkadievitch. 
 Your daughter is not yet of age. You can, if you wish, 
 protest against any investment of her capital in your opera- 
 tions. True, that would mean your ruin; still . . ." The 
 General shrugged his shoulders. " But at the same time, the 
 Kherson Bank will take over the whole of the buildings and 
 land, and carry out the whole project according to the sound 
 original plan. And when the speculation has succeeded, the 
 greater part of the profits will naturally fall to your daughter,
 
 144 KATYA 
 
 if she will accept it regardless of your wishes in the matter. 
 She will be of age by then and all you will have gained will 
 be your own ruin." 
 
 " There is something behind all this. My daughter a 
 partner in your rascally plots !" 
 
 " Now it is you who abuse your position as host, Sergei 
 Arkadievitch. Your daughter knows nothing of my present 
 decision, nor did I myself dream of any such an hour 
 ago." 
 
 " You are making a great mistake, Nikolai Feodorovitch. 
 My daughter will never consent to any such arrangement in 
 opposition to her parents' wishes." 
 
 " Possibly not very possibly not. But even so, it merely 
 means that the Kherson Bank will receive the undivided 
 profits of a business which only requires the necessary funds 
 to become in a short time a very remunerative affair. At 
 least, in my opinion presumably also in the opinion of 
 Prince Rilinski, who has staked his whole fortune on its 
 success." 
 
 " Ah I thought so. Now we are coming to the point, 
 Go on, General Karatayef, as you will. I am ready." 
 
 " I do not catch your meaning." 
 
 " You have begun to threaten. How do you propose to 
 put your threats into execution ?" 
 
 " Ah !" The General turned impatiently on his heel. 
 " This is madness. In Heaven's name, man, can you not see 
 that I have myself thrown down my arms destroyed every 
 weapon I possessed ! Can you not see. ..." 
 
 " But why ? What is your object what have you to 
 gain ?" 
 
 " To show you my empty hands no, not you, Prince 
 Rilinski, but your daughter. She shall see that I have been 
 worthy of Niki's confidence, and if her happiness and his are 
 to be destroyed, then no fault, at least, shall lie with Niki's 
 father." 
 
 The Prince sat staring blankly before him. The General 
 glanced at him, and continued : 
 
 " You asked me a moment ago what I had won. I will 
 tell you. I have done what I could for my boy. It has not 
 been an easy task, but Anna Dimitrievna and I have made 
 sacrifices before for his sake sacrifices greater far than this.
 
 VICTIS ! 145 
 
 But you would not understand There have been moments 
 
 when I imagined that this interview would have taken a very 
 different course. Even to-day, on my way here, I was pre- 
 pared for quite another plan of action. But your daughter 
 has shown me much that I did not know, and you have twice 
 confirmed my impression. I have thanked you for so doing; 
 I thank you again. It may be that she is not the wife my 
 boy should have, after all; there are depths in her which 
 neither he nor you yourself perceive. Life with her will not 
 be easy. But they love each other, those two, and they 
 deserve to win. I have done my part; it is for you now, 
 Prince Rilinski, to show how far worthy you are of your 
 daughter." 
 
 " I do not understand," said the Prince wearily. His 
 strength was becoming exhausted ; time after time he pressed 
 the flat of the ivory blade against his forehead. 
 
 " Katya loves you and her home; she could not bear to 
 think that her love for Niki should come between you. She 
 did not say so very much this morning, but she made her 
 meaning clear, and it was this, that her happiness should 
 mean the happiness of all her home. So at least I understood 
 her. And so I have done what I have done not for her 
 sake, but for my boy's, because I saw that he could not be 
 happy save with her. If you persist in bringing ruin 
 upon yourself and those nearest to you, I cannot prevent 
 you: you alone will have to answer for it before God and 
 man." 
 
 " I should be glad if my wife could be present. I should 
 like. . . ." 
 
 " Nothing could give me greater pleasure." 
 
 The Prince rang the bell, and gave Dimitri the message. 
 
 " I sent for you, my dear," he said, when the Princess 
 appeared, " because I wished to tell you that I have 
 been mistaken as to the object of General Karatayef's 
 visit." 
 
 " I am glad, Sergei, for your sake and our own." 
 
 " The General has come to ask, on behalf of his son, for 
 Katya's hand. As to the manner in which the information 
 has been conveyed at such short notice we can go into that 
 later. Katya has during the last few days exhibited an 
 activity which will require considerable explanation." 
 
 10
 
 146 KATYA 
 
 " You are right, my dear we can talk with her quietly 
 later on." 
 
 " It appears, however, from what Nikolai Feodorovitch 
 tells me, that she has acted in every way with the best of 
 motives. . . ." 
 
 " I told you, Sergei, if you remember, that she had said 
 something of the sort herself, but in her own excited fashion ; 
 and she is always so impatient when one does not catch her 
 meaning at once." 
 
 " All this we can go into afterwards. Meanwhile, Nikolai 
 Feodorovitch informs me ... I presume on behalf of the 
 Kherson Bank ?" 
 
 " Precisely. On behalf of the Bank, of course." 
 
 "... That while such part of our fortune and property as 
 is already invested in the Odessa project will remain there, no 
 further capital will be demanded for the completion of the 
 undertaking. . . : I believe I am interpreting your state- 
 ments correctly, Nikolai Feodorovitch ?" 
 
 " Perfectly so." 
 
 "... But the Bank will, without demanding further 
 security in the estate or in the family jewels . . ." 
 
 The General nodded assent. 
 
 "... Complete the building operations in Peressip on 
 its own account, the ultimate profits being divided between 
 the Bank and us, or our children, in proportion to the amounts 
 respectively invested." 
 
 " Perfectly correct, save on one point. The Bank will not 
 continue on its own account, but for account of Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna, provided her parents give their consent on her 
 behalf, until she is of age." 
 
 " Sergei, we cannot do this thing. We will ourselves 
 provide for the children as far as we are able." 
 
 " I thank you, my dear." The Prince kissed his wife's 
 hair. 
 
 " The point is immaterial, Anastasia Grigorievna. I have 
 already discussed the question with Prince Rilinski." 
 
 " Perfectly true. I omitted to mention the fact. We 
 cannot deny that such a course of action on the part of the 
 Bank is most magnanimous no recompense of any kind is 
 demanded. . . ." 
 
 " Nor will be," interpolated the General.
 
 VICTIS ! 147 
 
 " But then you must have been quite mistaken, dear, about 
 the . . . the Bank. I thank you, Nikolai Feodorovitch, for 
 bringing us such welcome news." 
 
 " I am overjoyed, Anastasia Grigorievna, to find my boy's 
 kind friend, his second mother. . . ." 
 
 "It is but sadly little, I fear, that I have been able to do 
 for him in this painful time." 
 
 " You see, my dear," went on the Prince, " I was mis- 
 taken. I admit as much. And I apologize to ... the 
 Bank for my suspic . . . my erroneous ideas as to its 
 intentions." 
 
 " It is of no consequence, I assure you." The General had 
 found a speck of something invisible on the floor. 
 
 " But the question upon which I wished to consult my wife 
 is this " the Prince turned to Anastasia Grigorievna " Am 
 I to accept the offer ? It is unusual most unusual one 
 might almost say incomprehensible. Without any actual 
 obligation, it yet places us in a position of moral dependence 
 ... in a word, the transaction savours rather of sentiment 
 than of business." 
 
 " If I am not mistaken, Sergei, you said just now that no 
 compensation was or would be demanded." 
 " Perfectly correct, my dear." 
 " Then I think you should accept." 
 The General seized the Princess's hand and kissed it. 
 " I accept the offer, Nikolai Feodorovitch and I thank 
 you." 
 
 The two men bowed. There was a silence for some moments 
 in the great room. 
 
 " Let me help you, dear," said the Princess at last. " It is 
 easier for me. You see " she turned to the General " we are 
 both so very fond of Niki, and if only Katya were not so young, 
 I see no reason. ... It is hard to bring sorrow upon those 
 we love; I hope that none of mine may ever suffer. . . . What 
 do you say, dear ?" 
 
 "I am an old man, Anastasia; the responsibility is too 
 heavy for me. And these young people are too strong. . . . 
 You are right, dear, they must not suffer if we can help it. 
 Our own troubles we must bear as long as we can, as bravely 
 as may be. . . ." 
 
 "And make what happiness we can for our children,"
 
 148 KATYA 
 
 added General Karatayef. " I know that Niki's mother 
 prays for them, as we." 
 
 That afternoon in Princess Rilinski's little boudoir with 
 the ancient figures of saints in every corner, Katya and Niki 
 learned what their parents had decided. Prince Sergei was 
 deeply moved as he embraced his daughter ; but Katya whis- 
 pered gaily in his ear that he should only have told her all 
 about it long before. The Princess gave the two young 
 people her solemn blessing, and Niki, with moist eyes, kneeled 
 to receive it. 
 
 " Let us forget, Niki," said the Prince to his son-in-law, 
 " and let us hope for the future. One day perhaps you will 
 understand me. You are honest and true, Niki; I do not 
 fear for my child." 
 
 General Karatayef seemed not to hear the thanks which 
 Niki and Katya whispered in his ear as they embraced him. 
 But he held the girl's hand in his, and looked long into her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Make my boy happy, Ekaterina Sergeievna," he said. 
 " He deserves it. And I will watch over you. Remember, 
 child, that his sorrows will be my sorrows, as to-day his 
 happiness is mine." 
 
 When Tatiana Feodorovna met them on the way out to the 
 veranda, Katya sprang forward to tell her the great news. 
 Tanya shed tears of joy, and having stammered out con- 
 gratulations to them both, hastened off as fast as her aged 
 legs would carry her to inform the whole household of the 
 event. In an incredibly short space of time the message had 
 penetrated to the farthest corner of the estate. Dimitri rang 
 the bell for tea as though it were a wild alarm of war. Niki 
 and Katya stood on the veranda, looking out with confident 
 joy over the lawn, with its beds of roses and its century-old 
 guard of mighty trees, down to the lake that lay spread out 
 beyond the slope. The old General's eyes rested lovingly on 
 the pair; he dreamed of new and distant goals for their 
 ambition and his own. Prince Rilinski sat by his wife's side, 
 weary and exhausted; never had the weight of years seemed 
 so heavy upon him as now. 
 
 Sasha came dashing up from the park with Petya and 
 Sonya.
 
 V& VICTIS ! 149 
 
 " Niki Katya Is it true ? Alek has just told us. He's 
 coming up and all the others." 
 
 There was no need to ask. As Katya and Nikolai Karatayef 
 stood there on the terrace, with their parents in a silent group 
 behind, their joy was plain to all. 
 
 There was a little gasp, and then silence. Stumbling, half- 
 blinded by quick tears, Sony a fled to her room to be alone. 
 
 Lieutenant Orloff turned on his heel, and strode away stiffly, 
 as one who hides a wound, to the shade and shelter of the 
 park.
 
 BOOK II 
 THE CITY OF SUFFERING 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 
 
 As long as it was yet possible to distinguish the figures on 
 the quay, the passengers on board the new and elegant Levant 
 steamer Tsar Nikolai II, remained standing by the railing 
 and looking towards the shore. Gradually, however, the 
 little groups on land lost their outline, until at last nothing 
 was to be seen but a vague blur of black above the weed- 
 fringed grey of the mole. On the steamer the close-packed 
 ranks of land ward -gazing travellers melted into bustling units 
 impatiently demanding of all and sundry the number of their 
 berths, looking for already mislaid items of their lighter 
 luggage, or harassing busy seamen with inquiries as to weather 
 prospects. 
 
 " Stay here a moment and look after Anna," said Madame 
 Karatayef to her husband, who was standing by the railing 
 holding the child's dress fast in one hand for fear of accidents. 
 " I must see what has become of Miss Warden and Sergei; 
 we must keep together." 
 
 " Papa, what is that big white stripe away there between 
 the houses ?" asked the child, pointing towards the coast. 
 
 " That is the stair from the Nikolaiefski down to the sea 
 where you went with grandpapa yesterday, don't you 
 remember ?" 
 
 " Yes, I remember. Papa, is it the biggest stair in all the 
 world ?" 
 
 " That I cannot say, little one. But it is very big. Grand- 
 papa told you; two hundred steps and seventeen arshin wide." 
 
 " One hundred and ninety-three, grandpapa said." 
 
 " Then, of course, it's right, little Anna." 
 
 150
 
 "And all those houses there are they all mama's?" 
 The child was pointing towa- s the north-western extension 
 of Odessa along the coast. 
 
 " No, not all. Only a little of all you see. And you know 
 some of them belong to grandmama at Priluka and Aunt 
 Sonya, and grandpapa in Odessa and little Sasha grandpapa 
 has often told you." 
 
 " But I thought most of them were mama's." 
 
 " Not most. Only those at the farthest end you can 
 scarcely see them." 
 
 " And that street down by the water, Novaya Ekaterin- 
 skaya is it named after mama ?" 
 
 " I don't know if we can say it is named after mama. 
 But it is called Novaya Ekaterinskaya." 
 
 " Why are no streets named after Aunt Sonya and little 
 Sasha ?" 
 
 " I do not know,, dear. And I just told you, that it is not 
 certain the street in Peressip is called after mama. The 
 great big street in Odessa, where grandpapa buys all your 
 beautiful dolls, is called Ekaterinskaya after the Empress 
 you have seen her statue, you know, at the top of the great 
 stair. So it is not strange that a new street down by the 
 coast is called Novaya Ekaterinskaya." 
 
 " Grandpapa says mama's houses are just as old as I am." 
 
 " So they are, dear; eleven years old." 
 
 " Papa, I should like to fetch the new big doll and sit up 
 here by you." 
 
 " Ask your mother to give you something warm to put on 
 then. It will be colder when we get out to sea. And you 
 can tell Yussuf to bring my fur coat and some cigarettes." 
 
 Consul Karatayef stood looking out towards Odessa, with 
 its blocks of houses and many-coloured domes, that grew 
 smaller and more vague, until at last the town was but a 
 grey blot on the shore with a many-pointed crown faintly 
 outlined against the sky. Seven eight times or more he 
 had made this journey across the Black Sea, alone or with his 
 wife and children, and each time it seemed harder to bid his 
 father good-bye. The last years had brought the two men 
 closer to each other than ever they had been before. They 
 saw more of each other; Niki's journeys from Constantinople, 
 Trebizond, and Salonika to St. Petersburg on service, or to
 
 152 K.A1YA 
 
 Priluka on leave, brought him continually to Odessa, and 
 the first to welcome, the last to wave good-bye from the 
 Russian shore, was ever General Karatayef. Age seemed to 
 pass him by; he was over seventy now, but in his son's eyes 
 he looked as he had always done. A trifle thinner perhaps; 
 his old fear of draughts and cold perhaps increased, otherwise 
 nothing had changed. When the young pair, in the third 
 year of their marriage, came to pay him a visit on the way 
 from St. Petersburg to Niki's first post abroad, at the Legation 
 in Belgrade, they had been forced to put up at an hotel with 
 their little daughter Anna, then eighteen months old; the 
 old palace in the Konnaya could not house the numerous 
 retinue of servants which, according to Katya's wish, accom- 
 panied them everywhere. The General had made no remark, 
 but when Niki the following summer came over alone from 
 Priluka to see his father, he found the place entirely changed. 
 All the rooms were open now, and habitable, save one; his 
 mother's room remained untouched and locked. A complete 
 suite had been made ready for Niki and his family, all arranged 
 with such comfort and convenience as not the best hotel in 
 Odessa could boast. 
 
 " And don't you think, Niki," said the General, showing 
 his son over the rooms, " that you might bring little Anna to 
 stay with me next time you come ?" 
 
 The old man lavished a touching affection on his little 
 granddaughter. During the first year of her life, while she 
 was yet too young for toys, he sent her endless treasures of 
 valuable art embroidery for her little caps and dresses, cradle 
 hangings, and the like. Katya, who never touched a needle, 
 but knew the worth of such things, declared that the gifts 
 were simply extravagant, and wrote to ask her father-in-law 
 for the name of the shop where they were bought. She 
 received the address of a house in Odessa, but the orders she 
 sent for some similar work for herself were never executed. 
 
 Anna had been named after Niki's mother, and when a son 
 appeared a year later, he was called Sergei after Katya's 
 father. The child died, however, when only a month old. 
 The loss affected Niki deeply, and he made urgent applica- 
 tion for an appointment abroad. The post of Attache" at 
 Belgrade was less important than he had hoped for, but he 
 accepted it as a welcome means of escape from St. Petersburg.
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 153 
 
 In Belgrade another son was born, and likewise christened 
 Sergei, a strong and healthy little fellow, now eight years 
 old. 
 
 General Karatayef made so little secret of his preference 
 for the girl that Sergei might with reason have been jealous, 
 which, however, did not appear to be the case. The old 
 man's love for the little girl was fully returned. There seemed 
 some bond of secret understanding between the two that 
 needed no words of common explanation. Even though 
 years passed between their one meeting and the next, this 
 mutual confidence and sympathy seemed always undiminished. 
 The child never expressed the slightest longing for Priluka, 
 or her little cousins elsewhere in Russia, but Niki knew that 
 as often as he was left alone with his little daughter she would 
 ask after her grandfather in Odessa. She wrote to him 
 frequently in Russian, thus effectively avoiding the super- 
 vision of her English governess Miss Warden. Niki had read 
 one or two of these letters, which were very short and re- 
 markable for a high degree of inaccuracy as regards orthog- 
 raphy. Anna wrote both French and English better than 
 Russian. There was nothing, however, in the letters beyond 
 what a child of Anna's age might naturally be expected to 
 write. The strange thing was the desire itself. Anna would 
 write letters to her grandfather, but it was a matter of diffi- 
 culty to get her ever to pen two lines to her grandmother at 
 Priluka, or anyone else. The old General had won the child's 
 heart, and Niki felt deeply grateful to his father for his untiring 
 kindness to her and to them all. It was hard to say good-bye 
 to the old man. Even though he bore his years so well, they 
 were yet so many that each weighed heavily in the scale; 
 and there was no knowing what might happen before Niki 
 and his little daughter again returned to Odessa. . . . 
 
 A discreet sound at his elbow wakened him from his 
 meditations. It was Yussuf, the Albanian kavass, with his 
 fur coat and cigarettes. 
 
 " Your Excellency wished ..." 
 
 " Thanks, Yussuf. Well, are you glad to return to the 
 Balkans again ?" 
 
 " I am fond of Russia, Excellency. For the first year, I 
 think, they were afraid of me at Priluka. But I get on well 
 enough with them all now all except Tatiana Feodorovna,"
 
 154 KATYA 
 
 he added, with a flash of white teeth under his heavy drooping 
 moustache. 
 
 " Yes you have been with us for five years now ..." 
 
 " Six, your Excellency. Sergei Nikolaievitch was just two 
 years old when I entered your Excellency's service a month 
 after the arrival at Constantinople." 
 
 " True. We shall need more kavasses now at Stradovo. 
 Two more at least, I think. I must ask the Ambassador at 
 Constantinople as we pass through. Do you think you 
 could get a couple of good men Albanians, of your own 
 people ?" 
 
 " I know Stradovo as my hand, Excellency. I can get as 
 many kavasses as are required. There is no need to take 
 any with us, either from Constantinople or Salonika." 
 
 " As far as I could see from the short visit to Stradovo last 
 spring, it is a fairly big town. The Consulate-General at 
 Salonika reckons it as some twenty thousand ; but you must 
 remember there has never been a Russian Consulate there 
 before, and the whole district is held to be dangerous." 
 
 " If the Austrians can be there, then so can we." 
 
 " Of course. And sooner or later there will come others, 
 no doubt." 
 
 " I hope it may be so, for the sake of Her Excellency 
 and the children. It will be a little lonely for them at 
 first." 
 
 " Anyhow, Yussuf, you see that we shall need good, reliable 
 men." 
 
 "Trust me, your Excellency; I will get all we require. 
 But if I might be permitted ..." 
 
 " Go on, Yussuf; I am always grateful for good advice." 
 
 " If the Ambassador at Constantinople offers an escort of 
 Cossacks, as is customary in Macedonian towns on the 
 Albanian frontier, it would be wise to say no, your Excellency. 
 They do no good; their presence only serves to excite both 
 Turks and Albanians. We shall know how to protect your 
 Excellency, and all that is yours." 
 
 " It may be that you are right, Yussuf. We shall see what 
 the Ambassador says. But how did you manage," added the 
 Consul with a smile, " at Priluka, when the mere sight of a 
 Cossack is sufficient to rouse the blood of an Albanian ?" 
 
 " I manage very well, your Excellency, if I may say so.
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 155 
 
 It is only Tatiana Feodorovna, who cannot see me without 
 muttering ' Heathen ' and crossing herself. So she has done 
 each summer we have been at Priluka." 
 
 " Never mind her, Yussuf." Anna had reappeared, and 
 slipping one little hand into her father's, looked up at the 
 kavass. " She doesn't like me either. Tanya doesn't care 
 for anyone but mama and Sergei." 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, child. . . . Thanks, Yussuf, there 
 was nothing more." 
 
 " You didn't bring your doll, dear," said Karatayef, when 
 Yussuf had gone. 
 
 " Mama wouldn't let me." The child was evidently 
 disappointed, but she did not evince the least inclination to 
 cry. There was a queer, thoughtful look on her face. 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Mama didn't like to be bothered the dolly is in her 
 bag, you know." 
 
 " But couldn't you ask Miss Warden or Jeannette ?" 
 
 " I don't know. Mama just said she couldn't be 
 bothered." 
 
 " Oh, we'll manage that all right; I'll go and see." 
 
 " Oh, please not, papa; mama will be angry. I can stay 
 here with you and think of grandpapa; and I won't bother 
 you." 
 
 " You found some warm things, I see." 
 
 " Yes, mama told Jeannette to give me them before she 
 began to be ill, you know." Jeannette was Katya's maid, 
 who also did duty as half -nurse to the children. 
 
 " We'll walk about up here for a little, shall we, Anna ? 
 It's much nicer here than in the stuffy cabins." 
 
 The ship ploughed steadily forward, with the wind astern, 
 rolling a little, but scarcely pitching at all. The blue-green 
 waves seemed trying to race the splendid ship, always giving 
 up the contest, however, and breaking in a froth of foam. 
 
 " Papa, may I talk to you ?" 
 
 " Of course, dear, what is it ?" 
 
 " Why is it called ' Tchernoye More ' Black Sea ?" 
 
 " It has nothing to do with the colour, dear. ' Black ' 
 simply means ' dark, dangerous ' because it is so stormy 
 and wild. Just a name, that's all." 
 
 " I see." There was a pause, and then the child spoke
 
 150 KA i YA 
 
 again, half to herself. " Poor grandpapa, always to live by 
 the Black Sea." 
 
 " But it can be beautiful, dear, at times like the Bosphorus 
 and the Marmora, that you liked so much." 
 
 " You have sailed here many times, papa, haven't you ?" 
 
 " We all must, little one to and fro between Russia and 
 the Balkans." 
 
 " I wish you were not sailing here now, papa." 
 
 " Why, dear ?" 
 
 " I don't know. But I am afraid. And so is grandpapa." 
 
 " Nonsense, child. I'm sure grandpapa has never said 
 anything of the kind." 
 
 " No, but I know he is, all the same." 
 
 They walked up and down in silence for some minutes. 
 Then Anna spoke again : 
 
 " Are there very many people in mama's houses by the 
 Black Sea ?" 
 
 " Yes, many families live there." 
 
 " I should not like to live in them, papa. And you must 
 never go there." 
 
 " Why, child, what do you mean ?" He smiled down at 
 her indulgently, but the girl merely shook her head and said 
 nothing. 
 
 The wind was getting up now, and the ship began to roll. 
 The promenade deck was almost deserted. Karatayef and 
 his little daughter gave up making the full round, and kept 
 to the lee-side. 
 
 " How are you feeling up here," asked Madame Karatayef, 
 wrestling with the door of the saloon. " We are all utterly 
 miserable down below. Miss Warden and Jeannette are 
 quite helpless already. Sergei doesn't like it. I have handed 
 him over to Yussuf who doesn't look very bright himself." 
 
 " Oh, we're all right, aren't we, Anna ? And you, Katya ?" 
 
 " Oh, the Black Sea never troubles me in the least. But 
 I am weary of all this travelling and shifting from one place 
 to another." 
 
 " I thought you were lying down." 
 
 " Not at all; I only went down to get some warmer things 
 on." 
 
 " Then surely you might have given the child her doll." 
 There was a touch of bitterness in his tone.
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 157 
 
 " Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't begin about that now, Niki ! 
 And she couldn't play with it up here. It would be spoiled 
 in no time." 
 
 " I would never spoil things grandpapa gives me," inter- 
 posed the child quietly. 
 
 " Give me your keys, Katya; I am going down to get it," 
 said Karatayef, in a tone which forbade further discussion. 
 
 " Very well." She handed him a bunch of keys. " It's 
 in the green bag. See what a lot of trouble you make for us 
 all," she added, turning to the child. 
 
 Anna followed her father down below, returning a few 
 minutes later with the doll and all its various belongings. 
 Karatayef placed her in a corner of the saloon by one of the 
 broad windows, where he could see her as they walked up 
 and down outside. 
 
 " You spoil the child, you and your father between you," 
 said Katya to her husband. " The Tsar's daughter has not 
 such dolls as Anna; and it is not the dolls alone, they only 
 cost money, but all the clothes he sends with them. Silk 
 embroidery that is not to be matched anywhere, and must 
 have taken months to work. It's unnatural, Niki ; you ought 
 to stop it." 
 
 " Really, I don't know why. They are both so happy 
 about the gifts, why spoil their pleasure when it does no 
 harm ? Oughtn't we to go and see," he broke off, " how 
 Sergei is getting on ?" 
 
 " I told you Yussuf is looking after him." 
 
 " But if Yussuf begins to feel bad himself you know he's 
 "no sailor." 
 
 " My dear Niki, there are three or four stewardesses below. 
 Is it impossible for you to remain alone with me for five 
 minutes ?" 
 
 " Katya, I have asked you that many times in all these 
 years." 
 
 " Now you are trying to hurt me. And you know how it 
 always upsets me to leave Priluka and Ukraine. When shall 
 we see St. Vladimir's Cross again, I wonder ? It may be 
 years and years." 
 
 " For me, perhaps; but not for you and the children; at 
 least, I hope not. Please God, you may go back again next 
 summer. And it would perhaps be best to let Anna at least
 
 remain in Russia after next year. We must send her to 
 school. You were only twelve yourself when you went to 
 Kief, and you know how sadly her Russian education has 
 been neglected." 
 
 " I had Sonya, and it is no distance to speak of from Kief 
 to Priluka, and papa always came to see us once or twice a 
 year. But from Kief to Stradovo my dear Niki, it is half- 
 way across the world." 
 
 " Are you sorry I accepted the post ?" 
 
 " Oh, Niki, don't begin again. It is unkind of you." 
 
 " I do not wish to be so, Katya. But I have asked myself 
 many times if it were not too much to expect of you and the 
 children ... a little out-of-the-way town in Macedonia, with 
 practically no society, ill-will against us both from Turks 
 and Albanians, danger always threatening. ... It may be 
 harder than you had thought, Katya, after what you have 
 been accustomed to." 
 
 She took his arm and pressed it to her side. 
 
 " Niki, have^I ever tried to keep you back from difficulty 
 or danger ?" 
 
 " No, it is true. You have always been as brave as the 
 bravest. I shall never forget that time in Trebizond, and 
 the Armenian massacres. I see you now, riding through the 
 streets with the kavasses behind, and the Armenians on 
 every side greeting you as a queen, while the Mohammedans 
 threatened. . . . The Ambassador didn't like it. You re- 
 member what he wrote to me ? But save that first year in 
 St. Petersburg, I have never been so happy with you as in 
 those months at Trebizond Cossack, my brave little 
 Cossack !" 
 
 " And now we are going to take Stradovo by storm you 
 and I together, Niki. They shall be proud of us the old 
 Ambassador and all. He has never forgiven me riding up 
 to the Turks that day in Trebizond, and telling them that the 
 Armenian prisoners were under my protection. But what 
 else were we there for ? Old Korenof gave me a long lecture 
 when we got back, and told me I might have been the cause 
 of Russia's humiliation. Dear old man his idea of diplo- 
 matic activity is sitting in an office or lounging over a dinner- 
 table. He reminds me at times of Miliukin in Paris." 
 
 " But you know, dear, that Stradovo is a much smaller
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 159 
 
 place than Trebizond. And we are not going there for a 
 couple of months. We may be there for years. The danger, 
 too, is different. It is not only the Turkish authorities we 
 have to contend with, but the whole of the Mohammedan 
 population, and the Albanians in particular. It will be like 
 living in a fort, in a continual state of siege. The mere 
 arrival of a Russian Consul may be sufficient to cause a riot. 
 The Albanians are furious at the Forte's having allowed us to 
 establish a post at Stradovo. They don't like to have their 
 movements watched ; they prefer to be left alone with the 
 Christians, to do as they please. And when the Austrian 
 envoy has been there now for a couple of months without 
 having had any trouble with them, I should not be surprised 
 if he had made alliance with one or two of the Albanian tribes 
 in order to show at the first opportunity how Russia is hated 
 throughout the Balkans. It will be a difficult post, Katya, 
 and dangerous. I told you it would be." 
 
 " I am only glad to hear it, Niki. No Minister with a silly 
 stuck-up wife to patronize us, as at Belgrade; no cautious 
 old Ambassador to look after us, as at Constantinople, and 
 none of the miserable petty provincial society as at Salonika, 
 where I felt all the time that the Consul- General and the 
 Baroness were only trying to make us feel how insignificant 
 they thought us. Of course, it won't be like Trebizond. 
 But, at least, we shall be left to ourselves, and first in order 
 of precedence. As for the Austrian, we'll soon vanquish 
 him /" 
 
 " You know who it is Eichwald. You remember him 
 from the first year at Constantinople. He has been at 
 Skoplie and Bitolya since then." 
 
 " Man with the Polish wife, who always dressed so out- 
 rageously ?" 
 
 " Yes. But he's clever smart little man. And there will 
 be others later on . . ." 
 
 " Never mind; we shall get on all right, you and I. Oh, if 
 I weren't so tired, I'd dance into Stradovo ! Now I am going 
 down to rest a little. If I don't come up to dinner, you need 
 not wake me. Au revoir, my Lord of Stradovo and all thereto 
 appertaining !" 
 
 " Don't forget to look in and see to little Sergei, dear." 
 
 The wind had increased. The ship was groaning now as
 
 160 KATYA 
 
 it writhed in the rolling seas. But each time Consul Kara- 
 tayef glanced in at his daughter, he saw the child quietly 
 busied with her doll and its many dresses that lay spread out 
 upon the sofa beside her. It seemed a something more than 
 play, as though she read in the costly embroidered silk some 
 secret writing which she understood, and which filled her big 
 earnest eyes with a wonder of dreams. 
 
 Great clouds came driving up in the west, hiding the sunset ; 
 the autumn darkness poured out beneath the low sky, and lay 
 heavily on the frothing restless sea. The lights went up in 
 the saloon; the child, sitting there in the bright warmth, 
 followed with her eyes the fur-clad figure pacing up and down 
 outside. 
 
 " I'd dance into Stradovo." Yes, that was Katya's way. 
 Danger fascinated her; she sought it rather than avoided. 
 And she loved change; so soon she had grown weary of each 
 place where they had been. Trebizond was an episode, a 
 mission, which they had both known beforehand had but a 
 single object. At Belgrade she had been frankly bored; it 
 was no part for her, the role of patronized young pupil under 
 the motherly proteetion of a well-meaning Minister's wife who 
 was her inferior in intelligence. Constantinople had inter- 
 ested her at first, but the Ambassador had wearied her 
 terribly. Ever since the affair at Trebizond he had regarded 
 her with a mixture of admiration and anxiety. " My dear 
 Nikolai Nikolaievitch," he had said, " I admit that your 
 charming lady is as brave as any Cossack from her own 
 Ukraine; unfortunately, however, we cannot permit her to 
 be plenipotentiary in matters of war and peace. I have 
 endeavoured to make her understand this, but I fear I have 
 not succeeded." The prudent old man had at one time 
 devoted almost as much of his time to Katya as he spent on 
 the Grand Vizier, regarding each as a sort of sympathetic 
 enemy, from whom he might expect unpleasant surprises at 
 any moment. But as Katya never plotted save in her own 
 personal interest, the Ambassador had little profit of his pains ; 
 her sudden impulses and their resulting action were as difficult 
 for him as for Niki to foresee or prevent. The Grand Vizier 
 was a far more satisfactory subject; moreover, he had appar- 
 ently no objection to being studied and observed, regarding 
 it, no doubt, as an unavoidable attribute to his high office.
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 161 
 
 Katya, on the other hand, revealed most frank resentment, 
 and Niki had noticed with anxiety how she had treated his 
 chief for weeks at a time with the careless hauteur one extends 
 to a discarded favourite. It was at this time that a post 
 fell vacant at the Consulate- General in Salonika; the Am- 
 bassador advised him to apply, pointing out that it would 
 mean not only advancement, but would serve as the introduc- 
 tion to a special study, the importance of which was yearly 
 increasing viz., the Macedonian question, with all its 
 branches. And as Katya wanted a change, Niki followed the 
 advice of his chief, and received the appointment. But he 
 recollected how the Ambassador had let fall on the same day 
 an apparently careless observation about one of the many 
 more or less apocryphal sayings attributed to Bismarck. It 
 was on the occasion of his appointment as Russian Am- 
 bassador at St. Petersburg in 1859, when Prince Wilhelm, 
 as Regent, not daring either to give him a place in the Govern- 
 ment or allow him to retain his seat at Frankfurt on account 
 of his open hostility to Austria, had chosen this diplomatic 
 resource. And Bismarck, when referring to the matter 
 afterwards, was wont to say, " Ich wurde kalt gestellt, wie 
 Champagner, zum spateren Gebrauch." And Niki knew only 
 too well to whom his chief referred. 
 
 Katya had, however, soon found Salonika unbearable. 
 After Constantinople, the place seemed like a middle-class 
 province, neither one thing nor the other. Korenof at 
 Constantinople had always one good point, in Katya's eyes: 
 he had no wife with him, that lady preferring to spend in 
 Russia such time as her husband remained in Turkey, and 
 residing for preference in Paris when he happened to be in 
 Russia. The Consul-General at Salonika, however, a Baron 
 Hochstadt, had a very evident Baroness: the descendant, 
 like her husband, of an ancient and distinguished noble house 
 from the Baltic provinces. Baroness Hochstadt regarded it as 
 her special duty to convince Katya of the fact that she 
 neither could nor should attempt to shine with any degree of 
 lustre beyond the modest brilliance which might be conceded 
 to the wife of a Vice-Consul at a post where the Consul-General 
 possessed a spouse of such unparalleled dignity. The 
 Baroness knew nothing of any Katya, nothing even of a 
 " petite Rilinski;" for her there existed only " that charming
 
 162 KATYA 
 
 little thing, my husband's new Vice-Consul's wife." Such an 
 attitude must inevitably lead to war. And perhaps Katya 
 was not wholly in the wrong. But she knew no mercy, and 
 spared no one. . . . 
 
 Stradovo had appeared as a new and unexpected move on 
 the part of Austria against its great rival in the Balkans. 
 And Karatayef was eager to take this difficult and dangerous 
 post. Hochstadt, who was extremely well disposed towards 
 his young second-in-command, recommended him warmly 
 to Korenof, and the Baroness had used all her influence to 
 secure the appointment for Katya's husband. Korenof had 
 felt some scruples, but vanquished them with the argument 
 that Katya would never be able to stand more than a month, 
 or two at the outside, in a place like Stradovo. And Niki 
 received the post. Some of the younger and more ambitious 
 of his colleagues envied him; to most, however, it was in- 
 comprehensible that a man of his wealth and position should 
 choose to bury himself in such a den of thieves unless. . . . 
 
 Anna knocked at the window and beckoned to her father 
 to come in. In her quiet, old-fashioned way she had laid all 
 the dresses neatly folded in a heap, and now she wanted to 
 go down to her cabin. 
 
 " No, papa, I am not ill ; but I'm so tired of thinking of poor 
 grandpapa." 
 
 " Why poor, Anna dear ? You said that before." 
 
 " He's so sorry you and I have gone away, and he doesn't 
 like your going to Stradovo." 
 
 " Anna, what nonsense have you been making up in your 
 head all this time ? Your grandfather has never said a word 
 about Stradovo." 
 
 " No, papa, but I know it is so, all the same." She gathered 
 up the precious silks and held them close to her breast. 
 
 " It's time you went down to sleep, little one. Give me one 
 hand so, and hold on tightly when the ship rolls." 
 
 Little Sergei lay fast asleep in his bunk, still pale, however, 
 from recent trouble. Consul Karatayef called one of the 
 stewardesses to attend to Anna, and bring her tea or anything 
 she wanted. There was a deal of sea-sickness on board. Miss 
 Warden and Jeannette could be heard complaining in their 
 respective tongues ; Yussuf had effaced himself, that none might 
 witness his distress. Katya was apparently asleep, or resting.
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 163 
 
 At dinner the Consul found himself practically alone with 
 the Captain, who talked Stradovo to the exclusion of all other 
 topics. Six months earlier, the Russian public had been 
 peacefully unaware of the small town's existence; now, how- 
 ever, it formed the subject of long articles in the papers, and 
 was elevated to the dignity of a first-class political problem 
 in the Russo-Austrian conflict in the Balkans. The Captain 
 of the Tsar Nikolai II., who knew the Karatayefs from earlier 
 voyages, inquired with deep interest into the position of affairs 
 at Niki's new post. 
 
 " You are already famous, Nikolai Nikolaievitch," he said 
 " famous at four- or five-and-thirty, I say it is worthy of all 
 praise, that you and your wife forsake Constantinople, with 
 its dances and festivity, to uphold the name of Russia against 
 these rascally Austrians that do nothing but weave plots 
 with the Turks and Albanians. Good that we have young 
 men of your stamp in the service: I wish there were more of 
 them !" 
 
 " In my opinion," said Karatayef quietly, " far too much 
 fuss has been made about this Stradovo affair already. I 
 should not be surprised if the Ambassador were to send in a 
 note to St. Petersburg asking them to keep the papers quiet a 
 little." 
 
 " Yes, he is a good man, Korenof. I have sailed the Black 
 Sea for eight-and-twenty years, and carried many an Am- 
 bassador between Constantinople and Odessa. I know some- 
 thing of affairs down there, ay, and the men that manage 
 them. A shrewder old fox than Korenof we have never had 
 in that corner, and when he has chosen you for a post like this, 
 why, then I say it's because he knows you're the best man for 
 the work, Nikolai Nikolaievitch and so you are." 
 
 " I think the danger has been greatly exaggerated." 
 
 " But as for Ekaterina Sergeievna, I say it is bravely done. 
 Not that I am surprised at her going with you ; that affair in 
 Trebizond showed that she likes to be in the hottest corner. 
 But a lady as she is, with maids and finery and all that, going 
 off without wincing to bury herself in a miserable hole on the 
 Albanian frontier I say it's magnificent, Nikolai Nikolaie- 
 vitch. She is worthy of you and our country, say I, and I 
 don't care who knows that Captain Golovin has said so !" 
 
 The storm whined and sang through the rigging, flinging
 
 164 KATYA 
 
 the smoke from the funnels in torn black rags of cloud, that 
 were swiftly swallowed up in the darkness. The waves fell 
 crashing against the sides, and frothed up under bow and 
 stern. Now and again a sudden shower of hail rattled against 
 glass and metal with a noise as of musketry. 
 
 Consul Karatayef sat in a corner of the deserted smoke- 
 room, trying to read. But his own thoughts were importu- 
 nate. . . . Everyone said the same; Katya had made a great 
 sacrifice in going with him to Stradovo. His father was the 
 only one who had not touched upon the subject. Princess 
 Rilinski had thanked her daughter, in her quiet, gentle way, 
 for standing by her husband so faithfully, and there had been 
 something like reproach in Anastasia Grigorievna's eyes as 
 she bade Niki watch over her daughter at the distant, lonely, 
 and dangerous post. Vladimir Shipagin had said outright 
 that he could not understand how Niki- dared to take such a 
 responsibility. And all his colleagues at Constantinople and 
 Salonika, both Russian and foreign, what did they not think, 
 what might they not say, at their dinner-tables and in their 
 clubs ? 
 
 No one would believe that she had been more eager than 
 himself to obtain the post ; the elders would ask if she were so 
 utterly indifferent with regard to her children and their 
 education ; the younger ones would smile and let her under- 
 stand that whatever attractions Stradovo might have to 
 offer, she would have no court there; no faithful circle of 
 admiring worshippers; no troubadours to sing beneath her 
 window, or love-sick pages to sigh and dream, all ready to 
 obey her lightest whim. An old Greek bishop, a few priests 
 and Servian schoolmasters, one or two Turkish officials and 
 officers that was all she would have, with the exception of the 
 Austrian Consul, who could scarcely be expected to do homage 
 within the alien precincts of the Russian Consulate. Why 
 should she suddenly try to persuade people that she had begun 
 to long for solitude, and to despise the meretricious delights 
 of society, which hitherto had seemed to be as indispensable to 
 her as the breath she drew ? 
 
 Niki knew well what answer many-tongued scandal would 
 find to all these queries. Where he and she were known, the 
 same would everywhere be said that he had forced her to it ; 
 that he, in his unreasoning, heartless jealousy, sought to hold
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 165 
 
 her captive in Stradovo, as in a convent. When the Russian 
 papers called him a hero for accepting such an exposed and 
 dangerous post, when the Ambassador and others in Con- 
 stantinople spoke of his zeal in the service, how easy for 
 malicious rumour to explain it all destructively as the last 
 resource of a jealous man, or at least, the prudent precaution 
 of a watchful husband, anxious to remove his young, light- 
 hearted wife from all possibilities of temptation. And his 
 speedy advancement from Belgrade to Constantinople, from 
 Salonika to the independent post at Stradovo, was it not due 
 less to his own capability and merit than to the earnest desire 
 of various wives of Consuls-General and Ambassadors to get 
 rid of Katya at any cost ; or old Korenof 's anxiety lest the 
 champagne should explode disastrously before its time ? 
 
 Thus they would talk at their clubs and their dinners. All 
 the men would side with Katya, with an indulgent smile at 
 honest, heavy Karatayef ; all, save, perhaps, George Farring- 
 ham. Niki was well aware that Katya cared more for this 
 one man than for all the others who paid her homage. She 
 had been honestly glad to see him at Belgrade, and when his 
 transfer to Constantinople some months after their own again 
 brought them together, she had made no secret of being 
 pleased at the circumstance. But Farringham was no 
 tempter, no polished smiling villain that sought to draw her 
 from her allegiance to her home and her children ; he treated 
 her with the most courtly respect, and frequently exhibited 
 a tactfulness which Niki was forced to admit exceeded Katya's 
 and his own. He was kind and attentive to the children, and 
 even if Anna did not seem to like him, he had at least won 
 little Sergei's heart entirely. He sought Niki's friendship, 
 and it was hard to refuse the confidence and affection of a 
 friend to a man so just and high-minded as Farringham always 
 had proved. No, little Sergei's " Uncle George " would never 
 laugh at Sergei's father behind his back, or speak slightingly 
 of him, as the others. Rather, he would take up arms on 
 behalf of both Katya and her husband when ill-disposed 
 rumour attacked them. Him, at least, one could safely trust. 
 
 Niki felt at times almost inclined to confide in Farringham ; 
 he needed a human being to whom he could speak openly and 
 without reserve. He knew all that scandal whispered of 
 himself; could speak with its voice and use its very words.
 
 i66 KATYA 
 
 And all was echoed from the depths of his own soul, revealing 
 thoughts which he strove to hide from others often even 
 from himself. It would be a relief, as of a cool hand's touch 
 on a burning forehead, if George Farringham, with his chival- 
 rous truthfulness, his frank, manly honesty, could convince 
 him that he was mistaken, that the anxieties that rent his 
 heart were without foundation in reality. 
 
 If only the children could be more to her, and she to them ; 
 if but his own work interested her a little ... if he himself could 
 mean a little more to her in her restless life ... if only there 
 were anything which could occupy her thoughts, take root in 
 her being, and give her a refuge of peace. Whatever it were, 
 he would cherish and nourish it with all his power, thankful 
 that it existed. But this eternal fear of losing her, now for 
 one, now for another who won her momentary favour by 
 service and homage, or whom she herself endeavoured for a 
 time to bring into subjection ... it was beyond his power to 
 endure. The two first years in St. Petersburg, where Anna 
 had been born, had given him a happiness such as he had 
 never dared to dream of. But soon after the death of the boy 
 Katya had begun to turn from her husband and her home, 
 seeking amusement, admiration, conquest. The birth of 
 little Sergei in Belgrade had brought them closer again, per- 
 haps, for a time; Niki, at least, had believed it, and had dared 
 to dream again of enduring happiness with her. But it soon 
 ended. Soon she began once more to seek the sunshine, like 
 a butterfly, eager to see and be seen in her brilliant youth. 
 Constantinople, with its broader stage and greater crowd of 
 admiring spectators, rendered her at once bolder and more 
 arrogant; she brooked no woman on a level with herself in 
 men's regard. First and always she claimed their admira- 
 tion ; her time, her thoughts, were spent on this game of 
 shorter or longer sieges which should inevitably end with 
 victory for herself; aught else meant shame and humiliation 
 unbearable. She raged through Salonika like a storm, fanning 
 to flame each lightest spark that glowed. But she never saw, 
 in all this hurrying triumph, how the hearth in her own home 
 grew cold and grey. 
 
 Niki tried often to comfort himself with the thought that 
 all this extravagance must weary herself at last, and that the 
 very multitude of her campaigns meant safety for himself.
 
 NIGHT ON THE BLACK SEA 167 
 
 The pity was, that each new war, each latest victory, rilled 
 all her being as a wonderful experience never before encoun- 
 tered. And each time he feared lest the fire with which she 
 played thus carelessly should burst at last into flame within 
 herself. Peace and rest were for him long since but names 
 of things forgotten. Heaviest of all was yet his longing to 
 win her back. There were moments, rare moments, when he 
 fancied that she understood. Might it not be that she also 
 longed to find herself once more, by pious pilgrimage to the 
 shrine of her earliest love ? Perhaps it had not been merely 
 the thirst for danger and adventure which had led her to seek 
 this post at Stradovo. . . . 
 
 But she was long in coming. And he was waiting. She 
 stayed out in the sunshine, her eyes turned from him, never 
 knowing that he stood there all the time stretching out silently 
 appealing arms for aid. She fluttered on her way from flower 
 to flower, never heeding the quiet voices that called voices 
 of home and children, of memory and longing. . . . She left 
 him to his loneliness. In spite of all the restless, noisy 
 struggle of their life, in spite of the fever-pulsed anxiety and 
 doubt in his own mind, there was silence all about him, like a 
 magic circle drawn. His senses grew more acute; he seemed 
 to hear his own heart beating, and the sound of voices in a dis- 
 tance, whispering, warning ; and always he remembered, more 
 and more clearly, the little sobbing gasp that shadowed like 
 a ghost the recollection of his own winning on that summer 
 day at Priluka; a ghost of broken hope and faith betrayed. . . . 
 
 Nikolai Karatayef rose and buttoned his heavy coat about 
 him. Better to try if peace were to be found outside, in the 
 stormy dark. 
 
 The wind wrenched the door from his grasp, flinging him 
 over against the railing, where he stood clinging breathlessly 
 to a stanchion. Beneath him the seas were frothing forth 
 and back, now opening embracing chasms, now flung up like 
 a huge black wall that leaned a moment threatening, ere it 
 broke in a fury of foam. 
 
 The noise was deafening; the slash of mingled rain and 
 spray blinded his eyes and numbed his clinging hands. 
 
 Voices was it voices he heard calling or only dreams 
 again ? 
 
 He felt the grasp of strong arms that tore him from his
 
 168 KATYA 
 
 hold. He struggled against them, still half dazed, and 
 warring against something, he knew not what. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, come ! It is madness, it is death !" 
 
 One of the ship's officers, with a sailor, dragged him into 
 the lighted saloon. 
 
 " We have been looking for your Excellency everywhere. 
 It was the merest chance that we caught sight of you out there. 
 It almost looked as though you courted death !" 
 
 " But why ? Why look for me ? What is the matter ?" 
 
 " Your Excellency's little daughter is crying and calling for 
 her father. A steward has looked everywhere to find you, but 
 in vain. Then the Captain told us to try the deck, . . ." 
 
 " Thanks. I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble." 
 
 Consul Karatayef stumbled down to the children's cabin. 
 Sergei was sleeping, pale and motionless, as though drugged. 
 The girl lay with her face buried in the pillows, her whole body 
 shaken with sobs. 
 
 " Anna, Anna dear, what is it ?" 
 
 She turned at the sound of his voice, and strove to keep 
 back her sobbing. 
 
 " Father, stay with me, and let me hold your hand. 
 Grandpapa and I are anxious about you ; we are so afraid." 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 
 
 GENERAL KARATAYEF had left Priluka shortly after his son's 
 engagement to Ekaterina Sergeievna, accompanied by 
 Lieutenant Orloff . Both the Prince and his wife had begged 
 Petya to remain with them as long as his leave allowed. The 
 young man held fast, however, to his decision, and when the 
 day of departure arrived, he took his place in the carriage 
 by the side of the old General, and waved farewell to them 
 all, thinking never to revisit the place which he had loved 
 hitherto as his home. 
 
 General Karatayef showed the greatest possible kindness 
 and sympathy to the young officer, both on the journey and 
 during their stay in Kief. Lieutenant Orloff was, however, 
 not inclined to be communicative, and kept to himself.
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 169 
 
 When the two men said good-bye to each other in Odessa, 
 the General invited Petya to visit him. " And if ever I can 
 be of service to you as an older man if ever you should need 
 help in any way I should be only too delighted. . . ." Petya 
 thanked him in a few words, but did not avail himself of either 
 the invitation or the offer. 
 
 The Prince and Princess wrote most kindly. Sasha also 
 wrote, in his own affectionate, friendly way, which Petya 
 knew and loved. But his own answers were short and said 
 but little. Prince Sergei, as his guardian and trustee, handed 
 over his accounts on Petya's coming of age, at the same time 
 placing a considerable sum of money to his credit in the 
 Kherson Bank, requesting the young man to accept it "as 
 a poor return for something of the much I owe to your father's 
 memory, and as a token of the affection in which you your- 
 self, my dear boy, are and ever will be held by us all." The 
 Princess added a postscript to the letter: "Whatever may 
 have happened, whatever may happen in the future, believe 
 me, dear Petya, Sergei Arkadievitch and I will always be 
 ready and glad to receive you." Orloffs first thought was to 
 return the gift, but he could not bring himself to thus repulse 
 their kindliness. The money remained untouched for years, 
 though he was far from being even comfortably situated, and 
 could often have found use for it. The Princess, here as 
 ever a faithful friend, wrote to him on his birthday and at 
 Easter, telling him news of all that had happened at Priluka; 
 nor did he ever forget to send a greeting to the Rilinskis at 
 Easter and the principal feast days of the year. To Katya 
 alone he never wrote. He was not invited to her wedding. 
 He read in one of the Odessa papers that it had taken place. 
 It was best so. He had no desire to revisit Priluka, least of 
 all on such an occasion. His whole relation to the white 
 palace was changed. Letters from Priluka often lay for days 
 unopened on his table. The very sight of them filled him 
 with a fear for which he was unable to account. And the 
 reading of them was enough to shadow his existence for many 
 days with an inexplicable melancholy and bitterness. There 
 was nothing of violence in his mind: he felt only that some- 
 thing in himself was broken beyond repair; his youth passed 
 idly, without courage or ambition ; a lonely struggle with no 
 definite object, filled only with a fruitless longing.
 
 i;o KATYA 
 
 He felt no anger towards Katya. On the contrary, he 
 idolized her memory with increasing fervour. Gradually, 
 also, his first feeling of enmity towards Niki disappeared. 
 With others' aid, Niki had succeeded in bearing off the prize. 
 Well, it was his right. It was Niki's own affair to settle with 
 his conscience for the bitter disappointment and sorrow he 
 had caused Sonya. Till the last day, even during the few 
 moments between Alek's telling of the news and the sight 
 of the pair standing on the terrace, Petya had thought it 
 was to be Niki and Sonya. Poor child ; she would understand 
 why he left so suddenly. Priluka had rarely known a more 
 bitter day than that of General Karatayef's visit. It was 
 a costly victory the General and his son had won that summer 
 at the white palace. 
 
 Of his sorrow and desolation Petya Orloff built a throne for 
 Katya. High and far removed, she reigned over him. He 
 had nothing to reproach her save only that she had given 
 him cause to hope; but in his heart he knew that he would 
 not for anything have been without that hope; nay, more, 
 he cherished it still, in spite of all that reason could adduce. 
 Even in his most despondent hours he heard her voice, as of 
 his sovereign, bidding him row row hard, and let her steer. 
 For every happy day that he encountered on his cruises over 
 the far seas, for every pleasing impression a landscape, an 
 unexpected meeting with a friend there came to him the 
 memory of Katya as she had been that evening in the boat, 
 a memory that stole upon his mood and whispered that he 
 yet might hope. She appeared to him in manifold shape, 
 but dearest of them all was the vision of Katya in need of 
 kindness and protection ; Katya, despite her queenly dignity, 
 fleeing to him like a bird from the shadow of the hawk, 
 praying for shelter and love. 
 
 Up to the day before General Karatayef's arrival at 
 Priluka, Katya had openly displayed her preference for 
 Lieutenant Orloff's society. It was the General's interview 
 with the Prince which had brought about the change. In 
 the first sharp shock of his disappointment Petya thought of 
 nothing but his own misery. But as he drifted aimlessly 
 about in Odessa, waiting for his leave to expire, he gradually 
 realized that General Karatayef must have had considerable 
 influence upon the decision of Katya and her parents. The
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 171 
 
 idea occurred to him that the girl had not acted of her own 
 free will in accepting Niki Karatayef, and as this explanation 
 cast a more flattering light upon her action, while serving 
 as some sort of consolation and restitution for himself, he 
 clung to it more and more, until at last he was convinced that 
 Katya had either acted under pressure or had sacrificed her- 
 self. If he had stayed on at Priluka she would have told him 
 all about it; but his behaviour on the day of the announce- 
 ment, and his sudden departure, had rendered" any explana- 
 tion between them impossible. Perhaps he had unwillingly 
 made the sacrifice harder for her, and she was too proud to 
 offer him any justification of her conduct. 
 
 This view of the matter took deep root in Petya Orloff's 
 mind. Katya was a martyr, and he himself had not been 
 treacherously cast aside. Niki's victory was of less worth, 
 or, at any rate, less aggravating than it at first appeared. 
 And there was an enemy whom he could hate. 
 
 The enemy was General Karatayef. 
 
 Petya took great pains to obtain information about this 
 eccentric old man, who inspired disgust and almost fear even 
 when he most sought to be kind. Admiral Orloff's son was 
 not without friends in Odessa. The name he bore was known 
 and well reputed everywhere on the shores of the Black Sea. 
 It was not long before he got on the right track. General 
 Karatayef's and Prince Rilinski's building operations in 
 Peressip were so extensive, and so many men were directly 
 or indirectly concerned in them, that it proved an easier 
 matter than he had imagined to obtain information on the 
 subject. He even discovered that the work had of late en- 
 countered serious financial difficulties. And a good deal of 
 advice was offered to him in that regard. 
 
 " If you have money to spare, Peotr Konstantinovitch, 
 do not invest it in these speculations. It won't be long before 
 Rilinski's part goes to pieces. I was out in Peressip a fort- 
 night ago the whole thing seemed to be at a standstill; 
 scarcely so much as a man with a wheelbarrow to be seen ! 
 No, Rilinski has burnt his fingers over that business. As for 
 old Karatayef, that's another thing. He'll get out of it all 
 right; always does. Take my advice and leave it alone." 
 
 Or the advice would be proffered in a more cautious 
 manner :
 
 r;2 KATYA 
 
 "Well, I never; Konstantin Orloffs son going in for 
 business ? I didn't know your father had left you anything 
 to speak of. Petya, my boy, be careful. Go and inquire at 
 the Kherson Bank. It's a sharp firm, as Sergei Arkadievitch 
 knows to his cost; but honest enough, and wont cheat you 
 into putting your hard-earned savings in a shaky concern. 
 Or there's Mandelberg and Krushofski you must know 
 them from Priluka. I've nothing to say against them. Go 
 and see what they say, but don't do anything till you've told 
 me all about it. If I can give Konstantin Orloff's son a 
 hand in any way ..." 
 
 Every expression of opinion, every item of information 
 fitted exactly into Petya's theory. It was like a calculation 
 which seemed to work out with the greatest ease. It re- 
 mained only to see if the result arrived at were correct. 
 Lieutenant Orloff determined to put it to the proof. 
 
 Prince Rilinski had for years, as Petya's guardian, entrusted 
 the payment of the young man's allowance to the house of 
 Mandelberg and Krushofski. There was thus nothing 
 remarkable in Orloff's calling at the office in the Konnaya 
 and asking for an interview with the head of the firm. 
 
 " A friend of mine has asked me to apply to you on his 
 behalf, M. Mandelberg; and, knowing that you have always 
 been most kind in accommodating me ..." 
 
 " Not at all, my dear sir, not at all. I have but done my 
 duty towards Prince Rilinski's ward and the heir to one of 
 the most honoured names in our navy. The slight advances 
 which you have now and then had occasion to draw are of 
 no importance. I have been a young man myself, and I 
 know how difficult it is in your profession to avoid occasional 
 irregularities in the matter of expenditure ..." 
 
 " It's not a question of advances this time. On the con- 
 trary, my friend is ... ahem . . . comfortably situated, and 
 having heard that Prince Rilinski's operations in Peressip 
 have encountered considerable difficulties, and knowing my 
 close relation to the family ..." 
 
 " Pardon my interrupting you. Your action in the matter 
 does you great credit. It is what might have been expected 
 of Admiral Orloff's son. But you are under a misappre- 
 hension. Prince Rilinski's enterprise is in no sort of difficulty 
 at present."
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 173 
 
 " Are you quite certain of that ?" 
 
 " Perfectly certain. And I may add," he went on with a 
 smile, " that even if your friend is, as you say, ' comfortably 
 situated,' I doubt whether his means would be sufficient to 
 assist Prince Rilinski's operations in case of any difficulty." 
 
 " But has there not been some little obstacle ... of late ? 
 Something in the nature of crisis ? My friend, at any rate, 
 was under the impression ..." 
 
 " People talk, I dare say. But it is not my business to 
 give information as to my client's affairs. To you, however, 
 I may admit between ourselves, you understand that there 
 has been a crisis. But you will be kind enough to make no 
 mention of the fact to your er friend," 
 
 " And the crisis is now safely over ?" 
 
 " Quite. Your friend need have no anxiety as to Prince 
 Rilinski or his affairs." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you for the information, M. Mandel- 
 berg; I shall not fail to let him know." 
 
 The proof was clear Petya Orloff's calculation was correct. 
 
 He went out to Peressip. Already whole streets of houses 
 had been erected down by the Local Traffic Harbour. The 
 suburb extended farther and farther to the north-west along 
 the coast-line, which further streets, as yet only indicated, 
 would follow in parallel lines. The whole landscape here 
 was one great building site. Hundreds of workmen were 
 busy digging foundations, raising scaffoldings, building walls, 
 and mixing mortar, while rows of carts discharged their loads 
 of lime and bricks. A fortnight ago the place had been 
 deserted, now all was activity. A giant enterprise was in 
 progress on the shores of the Black Sea. 
 
 In the midst of the busy crowd Petya caught sight of a little 
 old man in uniform, stooping every now and then as though 
 to pick up something from among the heaps of stones and 
 rubbish. General Karatayef was paying a visit of inspection 
 to the battlefield where men had fought for Katya's happiness. 
 He moved here as a victor. What was it to him that tears 
 and blood were shed for his winning, that hope and faith lay 
 crushed beneath his car ? He had bought and paid for all. 
 He thought of nothing save the precious gold that he had 
 given as the price of his son's happiness. He saw in the 
 masses of stone only the making of a monument to his
 
 174 KATYA 
 
 triumph. It was nothing to him what youth lay broken 
 and buried beneath its weight. 
 
 The years grew on links in a heavy, slowly fashioned 
 chain. Petya Orloff moved through life in many lands and 
 saw the places and the people of the world. The building 
 of the new suburb in Odessa was finished. One long street 
 was named after Ekaterina Rilinski. The great undertaking 
 had proved profitable. A stream of gold flowed back to 
 Priluka, and especially to Niki Karatayef and his wife. A 
 hundred times had Petya Orloff sailed past the grey wall of 
 houses that turned their windowed fronts towards the stormy, 
 threatening sea. The place was a ceaselessly recurring stage 
 upon his movings to and fro about the world, rising like a 
 mighty gravestone above all that he once had dreamed and 
 hoped. His love had broken its wings against those stony 
 barriers. Here it was that the hawk had swooped upon the 
 defenceless bird, and torn its heart away with beak and 
 clutching claw. Petya Orloff hated the grey houses, and the 
 man whose Judas gains had raised them. Not all the years 
 availed to still the vulture-stab of his desire for vengeance 
 upon General Karatayef and his work by the Black Sea, 
 inseparable as it was from his own longing. Dead stone and 
 living man, he hated them with the same slow fury of soul 
 with which he clung to the memory of Katya Rilinski. 
 
 One day in July, five years after he had bidden farewell to 
 Priluka in bitterness and sorrow, Lieutenant Orloff came into 
 Vladivostock on board one of the destroyers belonging to 
 the Pacific squadron. The post brought him two letters, 
 both with the Dubni postmark. One of them was evidently 
 from Princess Rilinski; the address of the other was written 
 in a hand resembling Katya's, and yet not hers. The two 
 little notes which she had sent him from Paris he had carried 
 on his person ever since, and he knew her writing as his own. 
 He laid the Princess's letter aside and opened the other. 
 
 It was from Sonya. 
 
 She wrote to tell him that Priluka was making preparations 
 for the celebration of her wedding with Elena's elder brother, 
 Count Gavril Dolgoruki. Nothing would give her greater 
 pleasure, she wrote, than to see Petya at Priluka, if he could 
 obtain leave for the occasion. She dared not hope, however, 
 that he would be able to do so, as her father had made in-
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 175 
 
 quiries at the Admiralty in St. Petersburg, and learned there 
 that Petya would not return from the Far East until the 
 following year. He might be sure, she added, that she would 
 think kindly of him at this turning-point of her life. She 
 would never forget their old friendship, and all that they had 
 shared together of joy and sorrow. 
 
 " Gavril Ivanovitch," the letter went on, " asked me ever 
 so long ago at least, it seems ever so long to me since I first 
 went to stay at the Dolgorukis with Elena and both his 
 parents and mine would like it. He has waited faithfully 
 for me, he is good and clever, and I know I can trust him. 
 He takes me as I am. I have never concealed anything from 
 him, either then or now. I think you would like him, Petya 
 dear, because he is so chivalrous and true. We shall live 
 most of the year at St. Petersburg, as Gavril is in the Ministry 
 of the Interior, and wishes to retain his post there, although 
 his parents have offered him their estate at Moscow. Papa 
 said something about your being attached to the Baltic 
 Squadron next year; if so, and you come to Kronstadt, then 
 it would be no distance to St. Petersburg. You could come 
 and pay us a visit; we should both be so glad to see you. ..." 
 
 Orloff understood. There was no need for Sonya to explain 
 or excuse her action to him. He had been free to leave 
 Priluka, she had been forced to remain. He had his pro- 
 fession, which led him many ways about the world, and went 
 far towards filling his life with other interests. She was 
 confined within the same narrow circle, and it was impossible 
 for her to avoid meeting Niki Karatayef as he had been able 
 to avoid Katya. A daughter of Prince Rilinski, beautiful 
 and charming, Sonya had doubtless had many offers, and 
 could certainly have made a better match than this alliance 
 with Vera Nadeshda's son. If she chose him, it must be 
 because she found him most worthy, and believed in the 
 possibility of finding a home with him, where perhaps she 
 might at length forget the past and learn to build with some 
 new hope towards a future. 
 
 Petya Orloff had not the courage to revisit Priluka. But 
 he would seek out Sonya as soon as he returned to Russia. 
 They understood each other. 
 
 Princess Rilinski's letter told of friends and kin now 
 gathering from far places at Priluka. Niki and Katya were
 
 176 KATYA 
 
 coming from Belgrade with their daughter and the latest 
 little son, named after the Prince his grandfather; Sasha and 
 Elisaveta, who had made the journey from Madrid with their 
 son and heir, who one day would be Prince Alexander 
 Rilinski of Priluka; Vladimir Shipagin, and the Dolgorukis; 
 later, also, they hoped to see Vasili Miliukin and Kleopatra 
 Georgievna, on leave from Paris. " We are all pleased," 
 the Princess wrote, "at Sonya's decision, although it will be 
 lonely for Sergei Arkadievitch and myself when she, the last 
 of our children, leaves us to ourselves at Priluka. We shall 
 probably only live here in the summer, spending the winter 
 or, at any rate, the greater part of it at our house in Odessa. 
 And then we may hope to see you again, dear Petya; for with 
 the name you bear, it would be strange if you did not sooner 
 or later return to the Black Sea. Sergei Arkadievitch is not 
 as well as I should like to see him ; Sasha's ill-health and the 
 fear of his old trouble returning has left its mark upon his 
 father. I wish you were here, Petya dear. Sonya and Sasha, 
 and Sergei Arkadievitch often speak of you and miss you; I 
 myself no less. Sasha and Elisaveta have, as you know, been 
 at the Embassy in Madrid up to now. Miliukin thinks, 
 however, that it would be well to get Sasha to Egypt for 
 the winter, and I think it is the best thing that can be 
 
 done " 
 
 Sonya was right. Also to Petya it seemed a long time since 
 the day when his fate and hers had been decided. Thousands 
 and thousands of versts separated him from Priluka. He 
 saw it only vaguely, through a haze. But close, and very 
 clearly could he see those grim, grey houses on the shores of 
 the Black Sea, where one old hawk had swooped upon its 
 prey. 
 
 Twice in the years that followed, Lieutenant Orloff came 
 to the white palace in Ukraine. 
 
 Prince Sergei Arkadievitch died at Priluka the Christmas 
 before his seventy-third birthday. All his children and 
 grandchildren gathered about his coffin, which they followed 
 on foot, together with the household servants and the hundreds 
 of peasants from the estate, as it was borne on a sledge by 
 torchlight over the snow-covered road to the little church at 
 Dubni. The whole district remembered for years after the
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 177 
 
 imposing ceremony of the funeral. The Empress was repre- 
 sented by one of her gentlemen -in -waiting, the Minister of 
 Education sent his secretary, while the Governor from 
 Tchernigof and the General commanding the district 
 attended in person, accompanied by their staffs. The Marshal 
 of Nobility was present, accompanied by the principal land- 
 owners of the province; a deputation had been sent from 
 Odessa to represent the Municipal Council. Mass was read 
 by the Archbishop of Kief, with the choir from the Cathedral 
 of St. Vladimir, and at the final blessing, delivered in the 
 churchyard, thousands were assembled. 
 
 Lieutenant Orloff caught sight of General Karatayef, un- 
 obtrusively hidden among the crowd. For the second time 
 they met at Priluka. 
 
 As Prince Alexander Sergeievitch passed through the 
 throng, with his mother leaning on his arm, and his little son 
 holding his hand, he was greeted with deep respect on all 
 sides. Many of those who knew the family well were deeply 
 moved at the sight of the little group. Sasha looked haggard 
 and weary. His face was transparently pale, his cheeks 
 hollow, and he walked with difficulty. Many there were who 
 thought as Petya: death had already set his mark upon 
 Alexander Rilinski, and next time the family vault in Dubni 
 was opened, it would be for him. 
 
 And so it proved. When Lieutenant Orloff next year made 
 the journey from Kronstadt to Priluka, it was to follow his 
 old friend to the grave. Sasha had died at Cannes, not yet 
 thirty years old, after a hopeless struggle against new out- 
 breaks of the illness which had followed him from his child- 
 hood. Quietly, without ostentatious ceremony, Sasha was 
 laid to rest beside his father. There was but one Prince 
 Rilinski now remaining Alexander Alexandrovitch, little 
 Sasha, a boy of four years old. 
 
 At the funeral of Prince Sergei Petya had exchanged a few 
 casual words with Katya; but as they had said their last good- 
 bye to Sasha, and were returning from Dubni to Priluka, 
 Katya came up to him, offering her hand, and said : 
 
 " Thanks, Petya, it was good of you to come. Both Niki 
 and I felt that you would. We could not think otherwise 
 of you. It is a cruel blow. I have never seen Niki so dis- 
 tressed. He said to-day it was the burial of his own youth."
 
 178 KATYA 
 
 " And mine, Katya. Mine was buried long ago." 
 
 " Oh, don't, Petya. It's not like you to say such things. 
 Dear Petya, you were not so in the old happy years." 
 
 " Maybe I have changed, Katya. It is long since we knew 
 each other, you and I." 
 
 She looked at him with wet eyes ; and in his fancy he could 
 feel her heart's beat, as of a hunted bird. 
 
 " Petya, you do not know . . . you do not understand. . . . 
 O God, it is all so cruel ... so hard. . . ." 
 
 He snatched her hand to his lips, she kissed him on the 
 forehead. 
 
 Petya hurried through the rooms out into the park, and 
 down to the lake. A bitter wind flung wave after wave across 
 the cold, grey water. The dead reeds shivered sufferingly 
 in the blast. Away on the farther bank the poplars waved 
 a rhythmic requiem, and rotting leaves were whirling despair- 
 ingly abroad. Far up above a flight of birds shrieked mystic 
 warning as they winged their way across Ukraine. 
 
 " Row, Petya, row, and let me steer 1" 
 
 Lieutenant Orloff shuddered at the sound of his own foot- 
 steps on plank and gravel path. He stole away between 
 the trees, filled with a bitterness of wakened recollection. 
 
 On a bench half hidden beneath two old oaks sat Nikolai 
 Karatayef, his head resting in his hands, staring at the 
 ground and the fallen leaves. For a moment Petya hesi- 
 tated. . . . Should he, for Sasha's sake . . . now that Sasha was 
 gone ? . . . 
 
 He could not. It was all long dead. Away on the shores 
 of the Black Sea a mighty gravestone marked the irrevocable 
 end of Petya Orloff's youth and faith and hope. 
 
 During Niki's and Katya's stay in Trebizond, at the time 
 of the Armenian disturbances, Petya was attached to one of 
 the warships then cruising in these waters. There was, 
 however, no opportunity of going on shore. Korenof pre- 
 ferred to keep the fleet at a distance, wishing to avoid any 
 further excitement of the Mohammedan population. Neither 
 Katya nor Petya knew how near they were to each other. 
 
 About this time the keel of a new armoured cruiser was 
 being laid in the shipyard at Sevastopol. Three years later 
 the vessel was launched in the presence of the Grand Duke 
 Mikail Alexandrovitch and the Minister of Marine, receiving
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 179 
 
 the name Admiral Orloff. Petya took part in the construction 
 of the ordnance, and was to be appointed to her as soon as she 
 was ready for sea. 
 
 One evening during his stay at Sevastopol, Petya paid a 
 visit, accompanied by some of his comrades, to one of the 
 small music-halls in the neighbourhood of the Teatralnaya. 
 All had been drinking a good deal. Several of the young 
 officers were already growing excited, while others became 
 sentimental. Both the performers and the public looked 
 on with true Russian indulgence at the interruptions of the 
 noisy party. Petya, who earlier in the evening had been in 
 the highest spirits, fell into a fit of abstracted melancholy, 
 and sat idly staring before him. 
 
 It was nearly midnight, and the " Russian Chorus," which 
 appears at the end of all music-hall performances in Russia, 
 trooped on to the stage. It consisted of a score of young 
 girls, in everyday dress, many with cloaks and hats ready 
 to go home as soon as they had finished their songs. The 
 audience were already beginning to leave the place, the final 
 chorus being as a rule of but slight interest. 
 
 One of the young officers was moved to spring up on the 
 stage and begin skylarking with the girls. In a moment 
 half a dozen of his comrades followed his example. Many of 
 those who had risen to leave stayed on to see what might 
 happen. No one appeared to take offence, despite the fact 
 that the officers were in uniform, and were in nowise careful 
 as to their speech. 
 
 A couple of workmen leaned over the low balcony, greatly 
 enjoying the joke. " That's right, your honours !" shouted 
 one; "take all the fun you can, being so beautiful drunk !" 
 The other sighed, perhaps a trifle enviously. 
 
 The manager, a dirty Armenian with heavy diamond rings 
 on his fingers, appeared on the stage bowing humbly. 
 
 " Most amusing, your honours ! Ha, ha ! delighted, I'm 
 sure as long as you please. I've not a word to say against it. 
 But if the police ..." 
 
 The young men extinguished him with little ceremony. 
 One of them placed himself, broadly gesticulating, in a door- 
 way at the back of the stage through which the artistes 
 came and went. The rest began chasing the girls, who 
 dashed about like frightened chickens. One of them, a
 
 i8o KATYA 
 
 pretty child of some seventeen years, with great brown eyes, 
 and her hair in a thick dark plait down her back, began to 
 cry, tripping helplessly from one wing to the other. Her 
 tears and her youthful beauty soon attracted the attention 
 of the excited men. 
 
 Just as she was preparing to spring over the footlights 
 down into the auditorium, her eyes met Orloff's. At the 
 same moment she was caught from behind and held fast. 
 
 Petya sprang up, and crashing his sword hilt against the 
 edge of the stage, shouted up to his comrades : 
 
 " Leave her alone !" 
 
 There was a sudden silence. Only the two men who had 
 laid hands on the girl continued to wrestle with her. A half- 
 suffocated cry for help burst from her lips. 
 
 Next moment Petya Orloff was on the stage, slinging his 
 comrades to right and left about the girl. He flung them to 
 the ground and let them lie. 
 
 " What is your name ?" he asked the child, as she stood 
 trembling and still half sobbing before him. 
 
 " They call me Pashka." 
 
 " But your real name ?" 
 
 " Pakhomya Pavlovna." The girl looked up with shy 
 entreaty at Orloff, as though fearing what he might do next. 
 There was something stiff and harshly restrained in his 
 manner, and he breathed deeply. 
 
 " Enough of this !" he called imperatively to his comrades, 
 who were beginning to pick themselves up. "If you want 
 me, you know where to find me to-morrow morning." 
 
 He turned to the girl and offered his arm. 
 
 " Come, Pashka, I will see you home." 
 
 With his disengaged arm he thrust aside the officer who 
 still stood in the doorway, and led Pakhomya Pavlovna from 
 the stage as it might be a Princess whom he escorted from 
 a ballroom. 
 
 " Who's that ?" asked one of the workmen in the balcony. 
 
 " Lieutenant Orloff Peotr Konstantinovitch," answered 
 someone from the auditorium below. 
 
 " Takes after his father," another observed. 
 
 " Ay, his heart's in the right place," grumbled the first 
 speaker. 
 
 Fiom that day Pakhomya Pavlovna Petroff, daughter of
 
 THE GRAVE OF YOUTH 181 
 
 a carpenter engaged at the shipyard, was escorted every 
 evening to and from the little music-hall by Lieutenant 
 Orloff. After a short time he wrote to the Kherson Bank, 
 and drew out the money placed there to his credit by Prince 
 Sergei Rilinski, in order to compensate Pashka's parents 
 for the pecuniary loss caused by her giving up her engage- 
 ment and leaving her home. 
 
 The child clung to him with a touching humility: she was 
 at once his mistress, his ward, and his servant. She gave 
 him all that her little soul knew of affection, but in all the 
 years they lived together, now at Sevastopol, now in Odessa, 
 she never rose beyond the modest level of education and 
 development at which he had first found her. She read with 
 difficulty, and could scarcely write her own name. It was 
 long before she could bring herself to use the familiar " thou " 
 of intimacy to Petya in spite of his expressed desire. He 
 remained in her eyes the young aristocrat who had flung the 
 splendid officers aside for her sake, and been kind to her in 
 her distress. He was a superior being, and withal so easy 
 to please. She needed but to look at him with her great 
 sad eyes and creep close to him, and violence changed to quiet 
 calm, weariness gave place to pleasant cheerfulness. And 
 then he would caress her hair and tell her not to be afraid, 
 for he would always be good to her. 
 
 " Pashka, little bird, tell me you do not fear. No one 
 can hurt you now." 
 
 Lieutenant Orloff had no income beyond his pay. He left 
 it to Pashka to make it go as far as possible, and it seemed 
 to him that she did wonders. This child of the people was 
 scrupulously faithful to every trust of his, and their relation 
 brought him never the least anxiety only peace and pleasant 
 rest. 
 
 In his profession Petya was held in esteem by his superiors, 
 and his subordinates almost worshipped him. His comrades, 
 however, gradually drew away from him as the years went 
 on; his silent moods and uncommunicative manner did not 
 suit them. Admiral Orloff s son became a lonely man, living 
 in poverty and seclusion. His youth was fading helplessly 
 away, shadowed as it was by those great grey walls upon the 
 shores of the Black Sea. 
 
 Yet even when sorrow and bitterness were heaviest upon
 
 i82 KATYA 
 
 him, the thought of that frightened child who clung to him 
 for protection could light up his soul with a glow of quiet, 
 modest happiness. And he would hurry back to the poor 
 little home they shared together, and take her in his arms, 
 stroking her hair and whispering: 
 
 " Pashka, little bird, tell me you are happy and safe 
 with me." 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 SLAV A, KNEGINYA, SLAVA ! 
 
 THE Slav names of the Balkans seem as if chosen with one 
 single aim: to keep in vivid memory the troublous history 
 of those oft-harried lands. Close to Bitolya lies the village 
 that is called Mogila, which means " the Grave," and by the 
 banks of the Badiska, on the eastern slope of the Tsardagh 
 heights, is Stradovo, " The City of Suffering." 
 
 The town forms part of the Turkish vilayet of Kossovo, 
 often called Old Servia. Here, in a dried-up basin, is the 
 battlefield Kossovo Polye, where, in the fourteenth century, 
 the grey-headed Servian ruler, Lasar, and his allies of the 
 Southern Slavs, lost the dominion of the Balkans to the 
 Turks, splitting the mighty Servian kingdom which Tsar 
 Stefan Dushan and the Niemanides had built. 
 
 Stradovo is the extreme south-westerly outpost of Old 
 Servia. Behind it rise the foothills of Albania. Greek scouts 
 are watching from the south, and on the east lie the close- 
 packed, ever-ready hordes of the Bulgarians. Among the 
 many nationalities of the district are Roumanians, and in 
 the town itself Jews are numerous. 
 
 Turkish rule, however, and the Mohammedan faith give 
 the town its characteristic note. The Christian churches 
 have neither domes nor towers; they are hidden away in 
 obscure corners, as though seeking concealment in a hostile 
 country. The mosques dominate the town with tall minarets 
 pointing towards heaven. No bells call men to worship 
 under the shadow of the Cross. From his high tower the 
 Muezzin calls the faithful to prayer in the name of Allah and 
 his Prophet. Before the altars kneel a congregation clad 
 in pitiful rags: the outcast and oppressed, the poor in spirit.
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA ! 183 
 
 And on the praying carpets kneel their faces turned toward 
 the holy Mecca the great ones of this little world, to whom 
 the poor pay tribute, and whose word is war or peace. 
 
 Seen from a distance, Stradovo is charming. It hangs over 
 the ravine where the Badiska flows, like a bird's-nest built 
 among the reeds. The surrounding hills are green and softly 
 rounded, mounting gently towards the upper heights whose 
 forest-clad peaks stand sentinel to the clouds. 
 
 At close quarters, however, Stradovo reveals nothing but 
 poverty and decay. Its streets are unpaved, rain and snow 
 convert them into swamps, and in the sun they change to 
 harshly dazzling ways, where the flour-white dust sweeps up 
 in blinding drifts. The whole town seems a ruin. All its 
 colours are faded, all its buildings crazy and rotten from 
 neglect. Its men and women appear mean and miserable 
 in their patched and ragged dress; carts and waggons such 
 as the rest of Europe knew in the middle ages creak through 
 the streets drawn by pitiful skeleton travesties of horse and 
 ox; sore-spotted, skulking dogs rake in the rubbish-heaps 
 against the walls. 
 
 The small Servian villages up in the hills live in a cease- 
 less fear of Turkish tax-collectors and Albanian robbers. 
 The Albanians dictate their orders to the Turkish authorities, 
 avenging every concession which the Ambassadors of the 
 Great Powers wring from the Sultan on behalf of the Christian 
 Slavs, by plunder and merciless massacre, in the name of the 
 Prophet and the Padishah. Sometimes they act of their own 
 evil will. Often they are but tools in the hand of Austria, 
 when the House of Habsburg, for its own dark ends, desires 
 to report disturbance. The Turkish officials have no power 
 beyond the limits of the Albanians' permission. And of all 
 the foreign Powers, none is so feared and hated there as 
 Russia, the spokesman and protector of the Balkan Slavs, 
 whose sword has wrung whole kingdoms from the Crescent, 
 and whose diplomatic service is the watchful defender of 
 every orthodox congregation from the Adriatic to the 
 Bosphorus. 
 
 No sort of industry can thrive in Stradovo. The branch 
 line which connects the town with the main rail to Salonika 
 has not availed to wake the place from lethargy. Both trade 
 and agriculture fall into decay under the warring rule of Turk
 
 184 KATYA 
 
 and Albanian. Out in the country, time seems to have stood 
 still : men till the ground with implements such as were used 
 in the days of Tsar Stefan Dushan. The mud-built hovels 
 crouch close to the ground whose colour they bear, as if to 
 escape the greedy eye of the predatory mountaineers. 
 
 And yet nature has flung all manner of wealth upon the 
 land about Stradovo. The soil is fruitful, grass and corn 
 abound, and the hills are covered with splendid timber. A 
 few miles west of the town lies the great mysterious water 
 which mirrors mountain and sky in its blue depths, as its 
 name reflects the story of the place and its people Mukovo 
 Yesero (The Sea of Pain). 
 
 Folk-lore has fashioned many magic tales about its water 
 blue as the Adriatic, crystal-clear, and yet unfathomable. 
 The old songs tell of ruined and forgotten cities buried in its 
 depth; of weapons, wielded in the country's cause, that rust 
 in its waters till such time as some new Paladin shall take 
 them, Arthur-wise, and with them lead the Slav once more 
 to power. 
 
 Even the hardest winter cannot freeze that water quite. 
 One spot is always clear in the centre of its fine-drawn oval, 
 where the blue of the sky is prisoned. The summer sun plays 
 on its bright still surface, where the dive of the pelican and 
 the thrash of wild swans' wings make little waves that are 
 and disappear. But towards evening, harried by chill gusts, 
 it grows dark and ominous. It borrows purple of the sunset, 
 as the hills, and borders it with gold as do the floating clouds. 
 Its frothing waves are flung against the rocks, to fall back in 
 a rain of fire. The wild call of the curlew and the heron's 
 melancholy cry mingle with their ceaseless thrashing, and 
 as the sunset glow eats deeper and deeper into the western 
 sky, the waves rise redly, leaping like greedy tongues of flame. 
 
 But as the colours die in the gathering twilight mist, the 
 fury of the lake subsides. The moon comes up, the stars are 
 lit above the softly breathing water, whose little ripples fade 
 into the night like a languishing sigh. The beasts come down 
 from the dark-wrapped heights to drink; bears that follow 
 the herdmen's paths, wolves stealing warily through the 
 scrub, and chamois that pause to listen after each cautious 
 spring. The wild boar moves with clumsy gait over loose 
 stones and through the splashing swamps, its young in-
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA! 185 
 
 quisitively sniffing at its heels. The stag comes striding down 
 with lifted head, alert and ready for all perils of the night. 
 
 The darkness fills with half-heard, melancholy sounds: 
 a lonely bird calling among the reeds, a hooting of some 
 hidden owl, the hoarse bark of the wolf, or the choked cry 
 of a captured thing in the claws of its murderous foe. And 
 the throb of the water on its stony shore sounds under all, 
 like a ceaseless, disconsolate sobbing. 
 
 Throughout the sunlit day the surface of the lake lies waste 
 and dead, as life seems fled from all the hills around. The 
 evening falls in stormy throes of fire, heralding forth a night 
 of shivering fear. 
 
 And ever the Sea of Pain is sobbing, as though the streams 
 that rilled it were of tears. 
 
 Korenof, the old Ambassador, when talking confidential 
 reminiscence with his colleague of the Austrian Service, would 
 sometimes observe, with a politely triumphant smile: " Yes, 
 my dear Count, it was a neat trick you played me at Stradovo; 
 but I think I came out best after all !" Korenof was not 
 content with hoisting the Russian flag over the second 
 Consulate in Stradovo; he used his influence to effect the 
 representation of Servia at the same post, well knowing that 
 nothing would be more distasteful to Austria. It was not 
 long before Bulgaria expressed a wish to follow suit, and 
 after lengthy negotiations Russia succeeded in forcing the 
 point. This stage having been reached, it was only natural 
 that Roumania and Greece should wish to have a finger in 
 the pie, and the Sublime Porte, having just been coerced into 
 concession in the case of Servia and Bulgaria, could not well 
 refuse. 
 
 The Great Powers managed their own affairs. Italy was 
 the first to appear, loth as ever to leave the Austrian un- 
 watched among the intrigueful Albanians; France felt in duty 
 bound to stand here shoulder to shoulder with Russia. Last 
 of all, a year behind the rest, came England, hand in pockets, 
 to see what was going on. Waggon after waggon disgorged 
 its mysterious load of extraneous luxury at Stradovo, and 
 workmen from Salonika and Constantinople were kept busy 
 for months preparing mansions for the residents-to-be. 
 
 The Turkish authorities had also been reinforced. Simul-
 
 i86 KATYA 
 
 taneously with the hoisting of the Russian flag over the new 
 Consulate a very neat little fortress on the right bank of the 
 Badiska a horde of Albanians, who had concealed themselves 
 in hills outside, stormed into the town, and demanded of 
 Sayyid Bey, the Mutessarif, to have the token removed 
 forthwith, or they would haul it down themselves. The 
 little garrison turned out with its machine-gun and drove the 
 brigands off. Sayyid Bey, fearing lest the enemy should 
 return in force, telegraphed for troops, and shortly after a 
 whole brigade arrived under the command of General Halim 
 Pasha, and remained as permanent garrison at Stradovo. 
 The effect of this move was somewhat to dislocate the original 
 balance of authority. Sayyid Bey retired by degrees into 
 the background, and the foreign representatives came gradu- 
 ally to treat solely with Halim Pasha as the supreme repre- 
 sentative of Turkish authority on the spot. 
 
 The presence of Ritter v. Eichwald at Stradovo appeared 
 to have made little or no impression upon the town or sur- 
 rounding country. The arrival of Nikolai Karatayef, how- 
 ever, became the signal for murder and rapine on the part of 
 the Albanians, which'lasted all through that autumn, despite 
 the utmost efforts of Halim Pasha and his men. The Russian 
 press mouthed outspoken accusation against Austria of having 
 arranged the whole affair as a demonstration against the 
 Russian Consul in Stradovo. 
 
 The Slav population of the district held the same opinion. 
 They bore without flinching the troubles which Karatayef's 
 arrival had brought upon them, trusting to the protection of 
 the Power he represented in the future. Russia was the 
 mother of all Slavs, the Turk's hereditary foe, under whose 
 mighty wings the oppressed found ready shelter. And 
 Consul Karatayef was her emissary; to him they could pour 
 out their troubles and their fears with surety of sympathy 
 and aid. He was the chief, the Gospodar, before whom 
 Sayyid Bey and Halim Pasha trembled. He was for them 
 the mighty wielder of wealth and power, the symbol also of 
 brotherhood between the Slav peoples; they blessed his 
 coming to Stradovo, the City of Suffering. 
 
 The fact that Consul Karatayef's wife was a Princess 
 Rilinski was soon known to all Servians in the town and near. 
 Th e name sounds in Servian ears as Bayard in French, echoing
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA ! 187 
 
 as it does the glories of the past. In the Slav lands east of the 
 Adriatic it is a name of royal splendour. At the Slava, the 
 most patriotic Servian feast of the year, and on St. George's 
 Day, the spring festival of all the Christians in the Balkans, 
 century-old songs are sung of the deeds of the Rilinski Boyars, 
 who fought under the Niemanides, and ruled over Servian 
 kingdoms by the shores of the Adriatic. 
 
 And so it came that the wife of the Russian Consul in Stra- 
 dovo was known there by no other name than Princess 
 Rilinski, or merely " The Princess." During the first winter, 
 especially, before Katya had begun to ride abroad, one might 
 on market days see crowds of peasants waiting outside the 
 Consulate in the hope of catching a glimpse of this their heroine 
 by right of birth. Karatayef's little son men called Sergei 
 Rilinski, or " the young Prince,"; the daughter of the house 
 was merely Anna Nikolaievna Karatayef. Legends arose, 
 and myths were found or woven about Katya. She and hers 
 came as messengers of freedom ; perchance it was she who was 
 destined at long last to raise the rusted weapons from Mukovo's 
 depths, and edge them anew to war against the enemies of 
 the Slav. 
 
 The institution of the Servian Consulate at Stradovo was 
 old Korenof's revenge, and a Russian victory over Austria. 
 In the district itself, however, the whole credit was given to 
 the Russian Consul and his wife, the Servian representative 
 being regarded as their subordinate. And when Bulgaria 
 arrived, no one doubted that this also was due to their 
 influence. The remaining Consulates which subsequently 
 appeared to represent more distant Powers concerned only the 
 various small minorities in the town and, of course, Halim 
 Pasha and the Turkish authorities generally. The true centre 
 of power was, in the eyes of all Slavs for miles around, the 
 stronghold on the bank of the Badiska, above which the 
 Russian Eagle hovered, watchful and unafraid. 
 
 Whenever Madame v. Eichwald and Madame Karatayef 
 chanced to meet, the one was as effusively charmee as the other 
 was smilingly heureuse. The two were, however, intensely 
 antagonistic from the first, and even at the time when they 
 were the only ladies in the town, neither was ever seen in the 
 other's house. Their children were not allowed to play
 
 188 KATYA 
 
 together. Katya made no attempt to conceal her firm opinion 
 that v. Eichwald was in league with the Albanians, and that 
 the blood of many innocent Christians was upon his head. 
 Madame v. Eichwald, who was as insignificant as her 
 husband was clever, never would see in Katya anything 
 but a frivolous and arrogant coquette. It was matter of no 
 little surprise to her, therefore, when the Servian, Bulgarian, 
 Greek, and Roumanian representatives laid veritable siege to 
 the Russian Consulate, seeking the favour of its lady, the 
 Princess. Madame v. Eichwald clung to the hope that when 
 Great Britain's tardy emissary arrived, he might prove to be 
 of more intelligent discernment. 
 
 Consul Karatayef went about his work with untiring energy 
 and zeal. During the winter he took every opportunity of 
 making himself acquainted with all classes of local society, 
 their needs and demands. He became most sensitively 
 familiar with the shifting moods and currents of feeling that 
 pulsed through the little world with which he had to deal, 
 frequently astonishing Halim Pasha himself with the accuracy 
 of his information concerning the vaguest shadows of abuse 
 threatened or perpetrated by Turk or Albanian. He showed 
 himself on many occasions more closely in touch with the 
 movement of events than the Turkish authorities themselves. 
 He succeeded in organizing an unofficial staff of confidential 
 agents throughout the district, and laid the foundation of the 
 work upon national statistics which later made his name 
 famous beyond the bounds of Russia and the Balkans. Old 
 Korenof read his reports with ever-increasing interest. 
 
 " Promising, very promising," said the Ambassador. " It 
 almost looks as though Nikolai Nikolaievitch were going to 
 make us another Constantinople out there in Stradovo. But 
 I ask you, gentlemen, can any of you explain what it is that 
 keeps our little friend Ekaterina Sergeievna in that hole ? / 
 give it up." 
 
 The winter passed quickly. The spring came, and, as in 
 Ukraine, glided in a few short weeks over to summer. Nikolai 
 Karatayef had not been so happy since the first year in St. 
 Petersburg. Katya made the home bright and cheerful for 
 him and them all ; she had a quantity of their valuable furni- 
 ture brought to Stradovo, also some old treasures from 
 Priluka. Ordinary womanly occupations bored her, but she
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA ! 189 
 
 had a talent for anything in the way of arranging, draping, 
 decorating, and under her hands the Russian Consulate in 
 Stradovo grew to be almost like a new Priluka. The house 
 was surrounded by a thick wall enclosing a garden, in the 
 centre of which stood the residence itself. The corners were 
 occupied by outbuildings for the kavasses' and servants' 
 quarters, stabling and storage. Katya spent much time and 
 money on the garden at first, and it gradually grew to be a 
 little wonder, with its profusion of trees, shrubs, and flowers. 
 In the stables were a fine pair of carriage-horses, Nikolai 
 Karatayef's pet Hanoverian, and Katya's thoroughbred 
 grey, " Mazeppa," besides two ponies for the children. The 
 household was extensive, as everywhere under Katya's rule. 
 In addition to the English governess, Miss Warden, there was 
 also a Russian tutor. Katya's own maid had at her command 
 two Greek girls from Constantinople who spoke French; 
 there were three kavasses, and a crowd of servants attached 
 to kitchen, stable, and garden. Henri de Beaufort, the 
 French Consul at Stradovo, a handsome young man who had 
 published a volume of poems, and was more interested in 
 literature than in the Macedonian question, had often told 
 his colleague Karatayef that the place was more like an 
 Embassy than a mere Consulate in a third-rate Turkish town. 
 
 There were always guests at the Russian Consulate; the 
 prophecies of those who had declared against the possibility 
 of Katya's gathering any court in Stradovo were put to 
 shame. Turkish officials of rank, such as Halim Pasha and 
 Sayyid Bey are not, it is true, as a rule inclined to play the 
 part of page to European ladies, and the old Greek Bishop was 
 hardly to be called eligible. But there were Karatayef's 
 Servian, Bulgarian, Greek, and Roumanian colleagues, there 
 was M. de Beaufort and the Italian, Count Fantoni. Gradu- 
 ally all were won over, and the supremacy of Katya and her 
 country in consular circles at Stradovo was unanimously 
 acknowledged. No one had a word to say against v. Eich- 
 wald and his wife; but there could be no question of com- 
 parison. . . . 
 
 So Katya found her court, all predictions to the contrary 
 notwithstanding. Moreover, Stradovo, the despised and 
 rejected, furnished her with something which she had never 
 before possessed, not even at Priluka it gave her a people.
 
 190 KATYA 
 
 " The Princess " was known to every child in the place. 
 Attended only by Yussuf, she explored every quarter of the 
 town, save the exclusively Mohammedan wards, where un- 
 veiled women could not pass without causing offence. She 
 was the principal patron of the Greek and Jewish merchants; 
 she routed out ancient Servian and Macedonian loom-work 
 and carvings, which found their way to the Russian Consulate 
 in such numbers that she was wont to call one of her rooms 
 "my Servian Museum." Women and girls who possessed 
 the secrets of Oriental embroidery earned royal wages at her 
 commands. She presented the Servian and Bulgarian schools 
 with books, maps, and pictures. She lavished benefits on 
 all the town, somewhat carelessly, perhaps, and without 
 system, but with such frequency and extravagance as to 
 impress the inhabitants, accustomed only to poverty, with an 
 idea that " The Princess " had untold wealth at her command. 
 She gave without counting cost or value, almost to reckless- 
 ness. It occupied and amused her, and she found a subtle 
 delight in seeing herself reflected in all these wondering, wor- 
 shipping eyes. Little children and aged folk kissed her hands 
 as she passed through the streets ; the youth of the city greeted 
 her as a queen. 
 
 When the ladies of Halim Pasha's household arrived at 
 Stradovo, Katya expressed a wish to visit them. Permission 
 was granted, and a gramophone which she brought with her 
 as a present secured her immediate success in the General's 
 harem. But the childlike little women had nothing in 
 common with splendid, imperious Katya; they had nothing 
 to share, and lived in worlds apart. A yearly visit was all 
 their intercourse. Halim Pasha sent a costly bracelet, prob- 
 ably ordered from Austria, by way of thanks for the gramo- 
 phone. Katya exhibited it to Fantoni and de Beaufort with 
 a scornful " C'est une horreur," and laid it aside. More 
 to her taste was a Turkish decoration, the Shefakat 
 Ladies'Order of Virtue resplendent with rubies and brilliants, 
 which Abdul Hamid sent her. It looked so well at the great 
 representative functions, when the Russian Consulate cele- 
 brated Easter, or the birthday of the Tsar. 
 
 Altogether, Katya was more admired than loved in Stradovo 
 itself, owing, no doubt, to the fact that her own heart was only 
 half interested in the benefactions with which she loaded Slav
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA! 191 
 
 and Greek, Christian and Jew. Out in the country, on the 
 other hand, the case was very different. Here she ruled over 
 a people who not only accepted " the Princess " as their 
 sovereign lady, but who loved Katya for herself. Alone, or 
 with her husband, escorted by the faithful Yussuf, she rode far 
 and wide throughout the Servian lands about Stradovo. She 
 was quick to learn the language, and in a wonderfully short 
 time she had succeeded in placing herself on familiar terms 
 with the poor peasants, who through an existence beset with 
 troubles and peril, yet preserved an unshaken faith in the 
 goodness of God and their own rights as a nation. Ignorant, 
 dirty, and ill-nourished, they bore the mark of centuries of 
 Turkish oppression of their race. But as Mukovo never 
 freezes quite, so also it seemed as if no amount of cruelty, 
 hardship, and abuse could utterly kill all hope and faith in 
 the souls of this harassed people. The springs of its trust in 
 the ultimate ideal are fed from far depths of history and tradi- 
 tion. And the tear-filled streams that pour their waters into 
 the Sea of Pain whisper on their way: " Wait yet a little, God 
 is watching still; there is yet hope for the people that will 
 not die." 
 
 Out in the valleys about Mukovo there was not a village but 
 knew and was known to Katya. Old and young watched 
 daily from early spring to latest autumn for the first sight of 
 a woman's figure mounted on a great grey horse, like a revela- 
 tion from the glorious past. Katya rode furiously, spurring 
 her mount to a lather, and setting him at every jump, rejoicing 
 when the wild pace made herself ache in every limb. Yussuf 
 was generally distanced despite all efforts, and his mistress 
 entered the village she sought with her escort far in the rear. 
 
 She was a beautiful picture as she reined up under the great 
 acacias, surrounded by her ragged people, her cheeks aflame, 
 and the waves of her dark brown hair all damp; there was a 
 happy smile about her mouth, and her great deep eyes shone 
 in the shadow of lash and brow. Her white habit fitted closely 
 over the graceful lines of her body, slender now as in her 
 earliest youth. Katya was past thirty, and had still the 
 figure of a girl; but there was a certain imperious majesty in 
 her carriage such as is only seen in women accustomed to 
 command and be obeyed. 
 
 Out here in the country around Stradovo, Katya helped the
 
 192 KATYA 
 
 poorest of the poor. She gave pictures of saints to the 
 churches; she visited the sick in their hovel-homes. When 
 Yussuf came up at long last, his saddle was loaded with gifts 
 for young and old. And first and last and ever she encour- 
 aged, fostering hope and endurance in the down-trodden souls, 
 speaking of the past in words that made it living, and of the 
 future as a prophetess inspired. She was a mqssenger from the 
 world of power and greatness, sent out to tell these poor Slavs 
 of the south that they were not forgotten in their bondage ; 
 that God watched over them in heaven, and Russia's Tsar 
 upon his throne. She told them that their people were her 
 people; showed them in word and deed that there was come 
 again a Rilinski to the Servian lands east of the Adriatic. 
 
 They listened devoutly; her words were nourishing manna 
 to their hungered souls. Old men and women kissed her 
 dress, and stretched their toil-worn hands in blessing. And 
 when she mounted to leave in the acacia's shade, there rose 
 towards her, low-voiced and trembling, the words of homage 
 paid as their due to Princes of her race in time long past : 
 
 " Slava, kneginya, slava 1" (Hail, Princess !) 
 
 The summer was nearly over. Katya had delayed and 
 postponed her departure for Priluka until now it was too late 
 to go. Nikolai Karatayef thought continually of the two 
 first years in St. Petersburg the happiest of his life. And 
 here in Stradovo he had found again the wife of his dreams. 
 It did not trouble him in the least that his colleagues paid her 
 ceaseless attention ; he felt that it played but a small part in 
 her life ; it was only an outward form that she would miss, this 
 continual tribute of page and troubadour. They were nothing 
 to him; he knew that she was his own once more. Now and 
 again he found it in his heart to wish that she could be more a 
 mother to their children, and not leave them so entirely to the 
 care of Miss Warden and the Russian tutor. But he would 
 not complain. Here in Stradovo he had captured once more 
 the swift, elusive object of his chase; hither he had come upon 
 his errant-knightly quest, and here it was that he should win 
 such fame and honour as should secure him guerdon from the 
 hands of Katya, his queen. Here it was he, who as the 
 strongest and most bold, held Katya in his arms. 
 
 " Katya," he said, as they walked together among the glory
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA! 193 
 
 of late blooming roses " Katya, I wonder if you know all that 
 I feel for you." 
 
 " Trust me, I know it, Niki. And never since Priluka have 
 I felt you hold me so as in this place." 
 
 " We will stay here, dearest, shall we not ?" 
 
 " Yes, Niki, let us stay, till we are both grown grey and old. 
 I could grow old with you, Niki. Never with anyone else of 
 all I know !" 
 
 Yussuf was heard clearing his throat discreetly at a distance 
 and they disengaged themselves from their embrace. 
 
 The kavass came up with the post official despatches for 
 the most part, save one letter for Niki and one for Katya. 
 Each read in silence for a while. 
 
 Katya was the first to speak. " News, Niki; what do you 
 think ? I would never have believed it if mama hadn't 
 written it herself !" 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Consul Karatayef absently. His 
 voice was troubled. 
 
 " You'd never guess, not for all Priluka." 
 
 " Then tell me what it is." 
 
 " Elisaveta is going to marry again." 
 
 " Sasha's Elisaveta little Sasha's mother ?" Karatayef 
 was suddenly alive and awake to Katya's news. He stared 
 at her in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, what do you say to that ?" 
 
 "Who is it?" 
 
 " Who, indeed ! That's the extraordinary part of it. An 
 Austrian, if you please. Read for yourself: Freiherr v. 
 Hohenstein, Minister at Belgrade, Princess Rilinski, mother 
 to Prince Rilinski of Priluka. ... I would never have thought 
 it of Elisaveta never I" 
 
 " What does your mother say about it herself ?" 
 
 " Nothing. Elisaveta is writing, that is all. Mama thinks 
 it's politics of some sort. Perhaps Vasili Miliukin is to l>e 
 Minister for Foreign Affairs after all, in spite of his age. ..." 
 
 " The papers let's see what they say." 
 
 Both glanced hastily through the Russian journals, but 
 found no mention of the matter. The Gazette Ottomane, 
 however, a French paper published in Constantinople, con- 
 tained not only an announcement of the appointment, but 
 gave in extenso the official communiqub issued by the Russian 
 
 13
 
 194 KATYA 
 
 Government. Niki read it aloud. It stated that one of the 
 most experienced of Russian statesmen, who for more than 
 sixteen years, under two Tsars, had ably represented his 
 country in the capital of its great ally, had been called to 
 the post of Minister for Foreign Affairs at a time when his 
 great insight would enable him to render invaluable service. 
 ' ' Russian policy is everywhere a policy of peace, also in the 
 Far East, where Russia threatens neither the independence 
 of China nor of Corea, its only desire being, in perfect agree- 
 ment with friendly European Cabinets, to secure an economi- 
 cal, territorial, and maritime position corresponding to its 
 interests as an Asiatic Power, and the great cost incurred by 
 the country in connection with the Siberian and Manchurian 
 railways, which have brought the lands in question into 
 advantageous contact with Western civilization.' " 
 
 " Ugh !" broke in Katya. " That means more trouble with 
 the Far East." 
 
 " Wait a minute; there's a lot more to come. 
 
 ' The statesman who is now, by the will of the Tsar, called 
 upon to direct the foreign policy of Russia, will follow un- 
 deviatingly in the footsteps of his predecessors as regards 
 matters in the Far East. He will further, while preserving 
 that alliance with France so dear to Russian hearts, scrupu- 
 lously adhere to the traditions that govern the attitude of 
 Russia towards the nearer Orient . . .' " 
 
 " Bravo !" shouted Katya, clapping her hands. 
 
 " ' And with this end in view endeavour to lay the founda- 
 tions of a friendly understanding with the Powers which, 
 together with Russia, are most closely interested in Balkan 
 questions . . .'" 
 
 " What nonsense, Niki; it doesn't say that ?" 
 
 " That's nothing. We haven't come to the best part of 
 it yet. ' . . . thus serving best the cause of peace and of the 
 peoples concerned. The negotiations of the last few days have 
 given every prospect of an agreement in this policy at Vienna, 
 and it is hoped that a mutually profitable co-operation between 
 the two Great Powers will shortly be commenced. . . .' ' 
 
 " Niki, it can't be true !" 
 
 " It's all here, my dear, in French of Constantinople, that 
 he who runs may read." 
 
 " In plain words, an alliance with Austria ?"
 
 SLAVA, KNEGINYA, SLAVA! 195 
 
 " Not exactly that. It merely means we want to keep the 
 Balkans quiet for a time, and concentrate all our strength 
 upon Manchuria and Corea." 
 
 " But it is treachery ! Miliukin has betrayed all these 
 poor Slavs into the hands of Austria !" 
 
 " It's not as bad as all that. But it will not be long before 
 I receive instructions to place myself in communication with 
 my respected Austrian colleague here in Stradovo . . ." 
 
 " Austria ? It is an insult ! I tell you, Niki, once and 
 for all, I will have nothing to do with any such idea." 
 
 " Wait and see. One thing at any rate is clear: Elisaveta 
 is a patriot, and an obedient child. The daughter of the 
 Russian Foreign Minister, who bears the name of Rilinski, 
 ancient and honoured among the Slavs of the south, marries 
 the Austrian Envoy at the Servian Court out of consideration 
 for Russia's policy in the Far East. Miliukin is evidently 
 master in his own house." 
 
 "It is wicked disgraceful !" Katya was almost on the 
 verge of tears. Nikolai Karatayef read through again the 
 letter he himself had received, and was silent thereafter for 
 some time. 
 
 Katya tore petals from the fading roses and strewed them 
 over path and lawn. 
 
 " Whom was your letter from, Niki ?" she asked at last. 
 
 He looked at her keenly. There was in his eyes something 
 of that which she had vaguely read in his father's searching 
 glance on the memorable drive from Dubni to Priluka. He 
 hesitated a moment before answering : 
 
 " From George Farringham." 
 
 " Farringham ! Niki, what does he say ? I had almost 
 forgotten him." 
 
 " He writes to say that he has been appointed British 
 Consul in Stradovo." 
 
 " Hurrah ! Niki, T am glad !" 
 
 " You do not find it strange ?" 
 
 " Strange ? What do you mean ? You say it as if 
 you . . ." She paused uncertainly. 
 
 " He came to Belgrade. There was nothing very re- 
 markable in that, although he had always been in Western 
 Europe before. His arrival at Constantinople while we were 
 there was not difficult to explain : simple promotion, as in our
 
 196 KATYA 
 
 own case. But from Constantinople to Stradovo, for an 
 Englishman with Farringham's seniority in the service, it is 
 the reverse of promotion. It has never occurred to me before, 
 but on reading his letter, it seems to me remarkable, the 
 way in which he follows us or, rather, you." 
 
 "I suppose ... I see . . . what you mean," said Katya slowly. 
 " And we were so happy ..." 
 
 She stood \vith bowed head, shedding the rose-leaves idly 
 on the wind. Then she went up to her husband, and putting 
 both arms about his neck, she whispered : 
 
 " Niki, my own strong Niki, do not be afraid." 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ANNA NIKOLAIEVNA 
 
 THE old house in the Konnaya was altered almost beyond 
 recognition. 
 
 General Karatayef had had all the rooms, save Anna 
 Dimitrievna's own, redecorated from floor to ceiling, and a 
 whole suite of apartments stood ready all the year round to 
 receive Niki and his family at a moment's notice. As far 
 as possible, all traces of the ill-fated former owner had been 
 removed. The only coats-of-arms about the place were the 
 Karatayefs' crossed blades on azure field, beside the shield 
 of the Rilinskis with its many quarterings, where eagles 
 argent, fleurs de lys, and lions gules mingled confusingly 
 against a background of ermine, the whole surmounted by a 
 princely coronet. 
 
 No attempt had been made to restore or emulate the original 
 splendour of the decorations, although the size of the rooms 
 lent itself temptingly thereto. General Karatayef sought, 
 on the contrary, to lessen the lofty impression by a selection 
 of quiet, simple colours, both as regards the wall-paper and 
 the many tapestries and hangings which he himself, with 
 careful judgment, had chosen from the stock of Russian and 
 Oriental shops in Odessa. A single room, one of the smallest, 
 was decorated in white and gold. It was to be little Anna 
 Nikolaievna's own. The gold-framed panels between the 
 white-lacquered pillars were covered at first with pale blue
 
 ANNA NIKOLAIEVNA 197 
 
 silk brocade. Gradually, however, the silk gave place to 
 squares of broidered stuff, each representing a picture from 
 the story of a little girl's life. These works of art, of which 
 each year brought one or more, called forth Katya's unfeigned 
 admiration. " I cannot understand," she said to her father- 
 in-law, " why that stupid firm whose address you gave me 
 never took any notice of my orders. But it is just as well, 
 perhaps, for I'm sure Niki and I could not afford to go on 
 buying things like that. Those panels must be worth a 
 fortune !" 
 
 Osip and Kapitolina did not attempt to conceal the fact 
 that they were far from pleased at the new order of things. 
 They seemed to regard the redecoration and all that it 
 implied as a kind of breach of the contract tacitly understood 
 to exist between the General and themselves. They had left 
 the place of their birth to follow the master and mistress 
 whom they knew, never caring how or where their nomad 
 home was built at the shifting stages of their long wandering 
 through mighty Russia. This last decree, however, that all 
 about them should be changed, that they should live among 
 a host of new and marvellous things too splendid to be touched, 
 almost to glance at this was oppression more than they could 
 bear. Niki's first visit with his wife and child, on the way 
 from Priluka to Constantinople, had led to conflict, almost 
 to open war, between the General's two retainers and Katya's 
 maids. And when the General categorically banned the 
 merest odour of cabbage soup within the house as long as his 
 son and family were there in residence, Osip and Kapitolina 
 felt that the pillars of this their world were tottering. It was 
 high time to seek once more the little village in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Tomsk, ere the disruption reached and shook 
 that sacred corner of the universe where dwelt their waiting 
 kin. 
 
 General Karatayef acquiesced. He offered them money 
 for the journey, and such small capital as would suffice to 
 keep them in modest comfort for the years that yet remained. 
 But the pleasant dallying with irresponsible intention being 
 thus ruthlessly displaced by the stern demand for irrevocable 
 action, Osip and Kapitolina found themselves besieged by 
 legion hosts of hesitance and doubt. Their grave considera- 
 tion took two further years, during which time no tradesman
 
 198 KATYA 
 
 in the quarter, no artisan in all the neighbourhood, but was 
 convened to counsel them upon the point. At last, however, 
 when the already numerous suite of Niki Karatayef and his 
 wife received the resplendent addition of the gold-embroidered 
 Yussuf, Osip and Kapitolina could no more. Yussuf was a 
 Mohammedan, openly and unashamed: a heathen irre- 
 claimable. Moreover, he had a voice of command which 
 shook the patient Osip to the depths of his long-suffering 
 soul. Followed decision, final and inflexible: Osip and 
 Kapitolina wished to leave at once. That their depaiture 
 was postponed from day to day for some two months was 
 wholly and entirely due to the fact of the new Trans-Siberian 
 Railway having meanwhile sprung into active existence. 
 Osip and Kapitolina had left Siberia by sledge; by sledge they 
 would return. The General issued a comprehensive embargo 
 embracing such and similar means of transport; new de- 
 liberations became imperative. And when, at long and 
 painful last, the two old creatures found themselves in the 
 train, their exile ended, and their haven near, they wept the 
 fruitless tears of those whom their own action binds. And 
 Osip's last word to his barin was that he never would forget 
 how Yussuf had been kind to little Anna. . . . 
 
 General Karatayef's new servant and housekeeper led a 
 pleasantly indolent life for the first year of their service, save 
 during the few days of Niki's stay. The General's habits 
 were simple as they had always been; his wants as few. 
 Every evening he retired to his study, and when the samovar 
 had been brought in, he locked the door, and required no 
 further service. All attempts at spying proved fruitless. 
 The new servants were at last forced to content themselves 
 with the theory, which gradually grew to a conviction, that 
 he spent his evenings counting over his money. His riches 
 formed the subject of innumerable stories throughout the 
 quarter. 
 
 Nor was this entirely without reason. The great building 
 project at Peressip which he had conceived some twenty 
 years before, and had carried out in conjunction with Prince 
 Rilinski and the Kherson Bank, had proved a splendidly 
 remunerative business. All his calculations had proved 
 correct. The Local Traffic Harbour grew and grew, as the 
 commerce and industry of the town and all South Russia
 
 ANNA NTKOLAIEVNA 199 
 
 increased. Thousands of workmen moved into Odessa with 
 their families, and the new suburb of Peressip lay ready to 
 house its share of the immigrant stream. The buildings 
 owned by the General, Prince Rilinski, and the Bank, proved 
 insufficient to meet the increasing demand. Other specu- 
 lators built new houses, continuing the line of the street 
 which Karatayef had called Novaya Ekaterinskaya, after his 
 son's wife, and laying out others behind it. 
 
 As a man of business, General Karatayef had won great 
 triumphs, both for himself and those whose fate had once lain 
 in his hand. Prince Sergei Rilinski had died a rich man, or 
 at least a man of comfortable means. The young Prince 
 Alexander Alexandrovitch would, on succeeding to the estate 
 of Priluka, receive in addition thereto, beside his maternal 
 inheritance, a share of the holdings in Peressip, making him 
 one of the richest nobles in Ukraine. Sonya had married 
 a wealthy man, and had brought her husband a third of the 
 Rilinski property in Odessa. Advocate Mandelberg, the 
 administrator of the whole undertaking, had made his fortune 
 out of it. Finally, Katya possessed her third of the Rilinski 
 part in her own right, and as Niki's wife, the whole of that 
 portion which had been added after the General's conversation 
 with her father at Priluka, some fifteen years before. General 
 Karatayef, his son and daughter-in-law, were incontestably 
 among the greatest private landowners in Odessa, and the 
 capital which the old man had invested on his own and Katya's 
 account in Peressip gave princely dividends. 
 
 It was not strange that General Karatayef, sitting of an 
 evening with spectacled eyes bent over his embroidery, should 
 let his thoughts turn rather to the past than to the present 
 or the future. His years of service were now so far away 
 that no remembrance of the means he had employed to 
 further his son's career was likely to exist in any mind save 
 his own. Even rumour had long been silent. The under- 
 taking in Peressip was sufficient to explain the source of his 
 wealth; no one cared any longer to ask what lay behind that. 
 All danger was eliminated. Anna Dimitrievna's prayers had 
 been heard, and when, in the years after Niki's marriage, and 
 especially after his appointment to Stradovo, the old man 
 sent yearly thousands and thousands of roubles to his son, 
 he rejoiced to see his winnings flung that way, reflecting that
 
 200 KATYA 
 
 they served not only his son and little Anna, but also, in a 
 way, the State itself. His son could now, in the service of 
 his country, to its greater honour and power, draw richly 
 from the coffers he himself had filled by slow, dishonest degrees. 
 General Karatayef never demurred to the demands for money 
 which were continually coming in through Mandelberg. In 
 the course of some eighteen months, Stradovo had cost, then, 
 almost fifty thousand roubles, besides Niki's salary. Had it 
 been double that sum the General would not have murmured. 
 Directed through the proper hands, the stream of gold was 
 flowing round again to fill its source. 
 
 And yet it seemed as though the money were accursed. 
 Many times now, during his long and toilsome wandering, 
 had General Karatayef seen the star of fortune shine above 
 his son's path: its gleam had soon been darkened. So on 
 that summer clay at Priluka, when the old man for a moment 
 had imagined that the end was reached, and he himself at 
 liberty to lay his troubled head to rest beside Anna Dimitrievna. 
 But still he heard that little pitiful gasp that told of Sonya's 
 hurt. Still he could see the young officer seeking a hiding- 
 place amid the shade and solitude of the park, to leave Priluka 
 after, with bowed head and broken courage. It was no 
 joyous feast, that day, at the white palace in Ukraine. 
 General Karatayef felt oppressed by fear, as though warned 
 by secret omens. 
 
 He never dared, however, to say a word to Niki, who, 
 in his turn, could scarcely meet Sonya's eyes. This 
 was his son's fault, the fatal error of his life. General 
 Karatayef had learned from Mandelberg and from Princess 
 Rilinski the circumstances of Sonya's marriage with young 
 Count Dolgoruki. And all that he heard about them 
 after the event seemed to indicate that their life was one of 
 quiet harmony. Shortly after Niki's appointment to 
 Stradovo, Gavril Ivanovitch and his young wife, with their 
 two little children, Boris and Anastasia, had been moved from 
 St. Petersburg to Odessa, where Count Dolgoruki now held 
 an important post as Chief of the Civil Cabinet under the 
 Governor-General of the Kherson, Prince Olenin. General 
 Karatayef called on the young couple, and the}^ returned 
 his visit. Gradually they came to see a great deal of each 
 other, and the old house in the Konnaya became less of a
 
 ANNA NIKOLAIEVNA 201 
 
 sinecure for the two servants than these originally had 
 imagined. The General gave dinners to Count and Countess 
 Dolgoruki and their relations whenever any of the latter 
 came to visit them. Elena Ivanovna was a frequent guest. 
 She was still unmarried, and if the years that had passed did 
 not seem to have furthered her development, they had at least 
 not robbed her of her touching childish gratefulness of heart. 
 It was during one of these parties at the General's that the 
 stately Countess Vera Mikailovna, in whom no one could any 
 longer recognize " Vera Nadeshda," asked her host to 
 administer a considerable sum of money which she wished 
 to contribute towards the building of a church in Peressip. 
 Before the evening was out, the guests present had either 
 themselves subscribed or promised to obtain sums running 
 up to such a figure that the General was able to have the 
 work commenced at once. The church was to be dedicated 
 to St. Sofia as soon as it was completed, in the course of a 
 couple of years. Katya had her street in Peressip, along 
 the shore of the Black Sea ; Sonya was to have her blue-domed 
 church. 
 
 General Karatayef grew to know the young Countess in 
 her home. He saw her with her husband and her children, 
 and thought often how like she was to her mother. The 
 melancholy which had fallen upon her in the time following 
 Niki's dear-bought victory at Priluka disappeared by degrees, 
 and gave place to a restful calm that had something almost 
 holy in its perfect, patient peace. Sonya lived for her husband, 
 who idolized her, and for their children, who loved her 
 passionately. This marriage had no dramatic happening for 
 its origin ; there was nothing about it to attract the attention 
 of others. But it became a ray of light along the life-line 
 of that generation whose youth had filled Priluka at the time 
 when Prince Sergei Arkadievitch had been head of the family 
 of Rilinski. 
 
 And it was Sonya whom Niki had betrayed. Happiness 
 had waited him with open arms, and he had turned away. 
 He had been struck with blindness, and he and his father 
 saw only when it was too late. General Karatayef had left 
 Priluka on that summer day as deep in disappointment, 
 doubt, and fear, as Lieutenant Orloff himself, and it was this 
 consciousness of suffering shared that waked his sympathy
 
 202 KATYA 
 
 for the young man. Not that the General regretted the 
 sacrifice he had made it was but little compared with others 
 that life had asked of him but it should have been made for 
 Sonya's sake. It was with a feeling of horror that General 
 Karatayef saw the careless indifference with which Katya 
 sought to wipe out the impression of her sister's and Petya 
 Orloff's suffering; and he would never forget that Niki, on 
 the very day of his triumph, had walked as one a prey to 
 remorse and bitter shame. 
 
 The star of fortune shone no more. The power which 
 General Karatayef had toiled and striven to win, vanished 
 in the decisive moment from his hand. He had attained 
 to win for his son a daughter of the Rilinskis in marriage, but 
 he had not been able to bring him happiness. 
 
 During the first years in St. Petersburg, when it seemed for 
 a while that all their hopes would be fulfilled, the General 
 turned once more to bright and hopeful colours in his patterns. 
 He began to think he had been mistaken in Katya. He knew 
 that she was of those women who can act greatly when the 
 swing and sway of their unstable minds hold them for a 
 moment at the height of a noble mood. And he hoped that 
 Niki might prove able to tame the beautiful wild bird from 
 the plains of Ukraine, and hold her happily caged behind the 
 golden bars of a home. Katya was right; Niki was strong, 
 horribly strong. . . . 
 
 And so it was that the first chapter of the story panelled 
 in Anna Nikolaievna's room showed good and kindly fairies 
 kneeling beside the cradle of a little girl. 
 
 It was not long, however, before the good fairies dis- 
 appeared, leaving the child alone among strangers. Niki's 
 letters, and even more the impression of himself and Katya 
 on their visits, told of secret troubles, hidden anxieties, and 
 doubt. The two flitted restlessly from place to place. Their 
 life was a continual moving, there was scarcely time to found 
 a home even if Katya had had any thought for so doing. 
 Little Anna Nikolaievna and her brother grew up in an 
 atmosphere of travel and brief halts, entrusted mainly to 
 the care of French and English servants, while their mother, 
 butterfly-like, sought distraction in continual fluttering after 
 men's homage. 
 
 General Karatayef had no longer any forgiveness in his
 
 ANNA NIKOLAIEVNA 203 
 
 heart for Katya. She wearied and tortured her husband; 
 she let her children shiver by a cold hearth. And gradually 
 the old General grew to hate her. She had crushed the power 
 which he had won : it was she who for a whim had upset all 
 his careful plans, and robbed him of the reward that should 
 have crowned his long and painful pilgrimage through swamp 
 and thorn. 
 
 He altered his will, making such disposition of his fortune 
 as should prevent her ever being able to touch more of what 
 was his and Niki's than was absolutely unavoidable. He 
 instructed Mandelberg to reduce the insurance on Katya's 
 part of Peressip to a minimum. To Sonya, and to Petya 
 Orloff he left large sums; and in particular he took all that 
 he possibly could from Katya and gave to her daughter. 
 A clause in the will distinctly stated that Anna Nikolaievna 
 was to be regarded, even during Niki's lifetime, as principal 
 heiress. In case of Niki's predeceasing his wife, then Sonya's 
 husband, Count Gavril Dolgoruki, or his nominee, would 
 administer Anna Nikolaievna's fortune, which Katya would 
 not under any circumstances be able to touch. Mandelberg 
 had no need to ask questions. The General's dispositions 
 showed clearly enough what had come of the relation between 
 the houses of Karatayef and Rilinski, and he recollected a 
 remark of his own to the General, after his visit to Priluka, 
 concerning Katya. General Karatayef had not understood 
 him then: events had proved how right his judgment had 
 been. 
 
 During the first year of Niki's and Katya's stay in Stradovo 
 General Karatayef had begun to doubt again. Perhaps he 
 had been wrong after all ... perhaps Katya had now arrived 
 at that point in her development where she could blossom 
 out into a real wife for Niki, later to become a real mother to 
 his children. The panels on the walls of white and gold in 
 Anna Nikolaievna's room received a new and brighter picture 
 from the story of a little girl's joys and sorrows. The fire 
 rekindled on the hearth to warm and cheer the shivering child 
 that had been left to wander lonely among strangers. 
 
 But now the General had begun to choose again silk of 
 a melancholy hue. He could read in Niki's letters the same 
 old restless anxiety and torturing doubt. And Anna Niko- 
 laievna spoke to his heart when, in her letters to her grand-
 
 204 KATYA 
 
 * 
 
 father, she wrote that little Sergei's old friend " Uncle 
 George " had come to Stradovo, that he rode much with 
 mama, and that papa nearly always stayed at home, and 
 how all was dismal and cold in that town with the ugly 
 name. . . . 
 
 Anna Nikolaievna was in no way beautiful. There was 
 nothing about her, save, perhaps, the great, dark, expressive 
 eyes, to remind one of her mother. Her somewhat heavy 
 features and squareness of figure were Niki's. She moved 
 quietly, gliding about among her elders as though fearing 
 to disturb them, and her games were for the most part played 
 in silence. She soon appeared to be old beyond her years. 
 Uncommunicative as she was, there grew no confidence 
 between her and other children whom she met. Of the young 
 cousins with whom she was brought into contact at Priluka 
 the only one who gained her friendship and returned it was 
 Sasha's son " Little Sasha." She went on her little errands 
 as far as possible alone, but liked to have Yussuf somewhere 
 within call. The only human beings who possessed her 
 confidence were her father and grandfather. 
 
 During the Karatayefs' second stay in Constantinople, 
 shortly after their return from Trebizond, the General had 
 paid them a visit the only time he had entered their house 
 since little Anna's christening in St. Petersburg. Katya 
 had invited a large party in his honour, a tribute which he 
 did not in the least appreciate. The guests were almost 
 exclusively young men in the Diplomatic Service, with their 
 wives. Korenof the Ambassador was also present. Katya 
 was splendidly and very expensively dressed in a costume 
 somewhat daringly devised, perhaps, but which suited her 
 admirably. The ladies present she left to look after them- 
 selves entirely. Korenof happened to be deep in her disfavour, 
 and he and the General were allowed to entertain each other 
 as best they could. Katya was surrounded by a circle of 
 young men. She seemed to draw them to her by command, 
 and none dared leave her immediate presence without her 
 permission. 
 
 And while the Ambassador held forth wittily upon Russia's 
 change of policy in the Balkans, General Karatayefs small, 
 sharp eyes glanced from Katya and her court slowly round 
 the room.
 
 ANNA NIKOLAIEVNA 205 
 
 There was his son. Niki did not look well in evening- 
 dress: he carried himself with an awkward consciousness. 
 And he was trying now in vain to make the ladies forget his 
 wife's neglect of themselves. He could not hide the fact 
 that he felt himself superfluous in this house which should be 
 his, where he alone should possess that favour which Katya 
 carelessly strewed abroad to these guests of an evening. 
 
 There was George Farringham he also stood outside the 
 admiring group that surrounded Katya. She did not seem 
 to have any need of him : an old conquest, now securely her 
 possession, and therefore needing no present effort or con- 
 sideration. Farringham, however, had eyes for none in the 
 crowded salon save Katya. His eyes rested on her in dreamy, 
 unconscious worship. The Ambassador's voice grew for 
 a moment distant and vague in the General's ears. He 
 made an effort to recover himself and fashion a random 
 answer, almost fearing lest he should succumb to a sudden 
 mad temptation and cry aloud across the room: " Niki, my 
 son, take care !" 
 
 There was his little granddaughter, Anna Nikolaievna, 
 sitting alone in the darkest corner among flowers and heavy 
 hangings. She had evidently hidden herself there, or had 
 been forgotten. She should have been in bed long since. 
 She did not seem to notice that her grandfather was observing 
 her. Her eyes the big, earnest eyes of a child were intent 
 on Katya, the resplendent centre of the brilliant room, in her 
 daringly fascinating dress, drinking in the reflection of her 
 triumphant youthful beauty in the homage of her court. 
 Anna looked long at her mother. The General shivered. 
 There was that in the child's eyes which was neither admira- 
 tion nor affection, but rather suspicion and anxiety. 
 
 The General found an excuse to escape from Korenof and 
 his discourse, and made his way over to where his grand- 
 daughter sat. She started as he laid a hand upon her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Come, little Anna, let me take you upstairs and say good- 
 night. Jeannette must have quite forgotten you." 
 
 " Grandpapa," she whispered, holding fast to his hand, 
 " let us go away quite quietly; mother will be angry if we 
 disturb her." 
 
 That evening the two made secret and unspoken alliance.
 
 206 KATYA 
 
 The old man knew, without need of words, that they under- 
 stood each other. They stood united in their love. It was 
 Niki who drew their hands and hearts together. Both 
 trembled with the same anxiety, the same suspicion. The 
 child and the old man read in each other's soul that they had 
 one enemy in common. 
 
 General Karatayef sent his granddaughter many presents. 
 He wrote but seldom to her with his pen, but his busy needle 
 fashioned many letters which told her of his lonely work, 
 his untiring care, his fears and doubts as to the fate of those 
 he loved. And gradually the child grew to clearly read this 
 secret writing, led by a certain instinct which told her that 
 whatever pattern and figure outwardly might seem to repre- 
 sent, the key to understanding of them all lay in the old 
 man's love for herself and her father. The exclamations of 
 her mother, Miss Warden, and Jeannette each time a new 
 parcel of embroidery from Odessa was opened, gave her a 
 hint as to the rarity and value of the work. She realized 
 that she was the only one who ever received such gifts, and 
 always from the same single hand. Slowly she came to the 
 conclusion that her grandfather did not buy these things, 
 or let others make them, but that they were his work. And 
 instinct told her that the charm would be broken if ever she 
 should tell to others what she so certainly knew. She kept 
 the secret, with so many others, to herself alone. Only by 
 an occasional hint did she reveal to her grandfather that she 
 understood. " Thank you, dear grandpapa, for your beautiful 
 embroideries," she would say, with the slightest emphasis, 
 and the two would exchange a glance of loving and delighted 
 understanding. 
 
 The letters she wrote to him were such that any might 
 have read without finding anything remarkable. And yet 
 they told the old man often more than his son's. When 
 Anna wrote that she was glad to be in Stradovo, and father 
 too, he knew what there was meant. And when she told 
 how little Sergei had had a visit from his " Uncle George," 
 he understood that truce was at an end. His little sentinel 
 never slept at her post. Each year she grew more watchful, 
 more observant. From half-dark corners Anna Nikolaievna's 
 great deep eyes gazed at her mother, and if Katya had ever 
 looked, she would have seen how hostile was that glance.
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 207 
 
 General Karatayef chose his silks of melancholy hue. His 
 son and the child, whose life held but so little joy, were 
 shivering by the cold hearth in that City of Suffering. His 
 own power was broken. The goal of his long pilgrimage 
 was ever receding. He felt his strength would die before 
 he ever reached the end. 
 
 There were many that whispered how the old General shut 
 himself up at night to count and count his piles of gold; 
 none that had seen the weary, lonely man bent with dim, 
 spectacled eyes over the patterns of his sorrow and his fear. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 RUSSIA and Austria-Hungary had in concert forced Abdul 
 Hamid to agree to an extensive programme of reform in the 
 administration of Macedonia and Old Servia. The reforms 
 included not only the political government, but also taxes, 
 traffic, and industry. The execution of the whole was, with 
 the approval of the two Great Powers, entrusted to the former 
 Governor of Arabia, Hassan Fehmi Pasha, one of the finest 
 statesmen in the Ottoman Empire. He was appointed 
 Inspector- General of all the vilayets in European Turkey, 
 with residence now in one, now in another of the Mace- 
 donian towns. 
 
 Meanwhile, the fact that Russia's attention, under Vasili 
 Miliukin's regime, was directed rather towards the Far East 
 than to the nearer Orient, rendered the Bulgarians bolder 
 than before. They strove with every means in their power 
 to force Russia and the rest of Europe to further the realiza- 
 tion of their dreams of a Bulgarian Empire which was to 
 embrace the greater part of Macedonia. On both banks of 
 the Vardar armed bands of Bulgarians spread riot about the 
 country. Russian Consuls who attempted to oppose the 
 movement found their lives threatened. By force of arms 
 and systematic rapine the Bulgarians attempted to coerce 
 the Servians also to enlist under their new flag. The district 
 around Stradovo had been harried since St. George's Day 
 by conflict between the Turkish troops and the insurgents.
 
 208 KATYA 
 
 In Russia itself there was a growing ill-will towards the 
 business in the Far East, and its humiliating consequence 
 co-operation with Austria against the Slavs of the Balkans 
 and agitators boldly attempted to use the discontent as a 
 means of further exciting the revolutionary movement among 
 peasants and workmen. Turkey, on her part, was deeply 
 incensed at this interference, on a hitherto unknown scale, 
 on the part of Russia and Austria. The Young Turks began 
 to raise their heads again. The army was offended at a 
 proviso in the Reform Programme stipulating for the appoint- 
 ment of foreign officers to command the gendarmerie in 
 Macedonia. Nowhere, however, were the fruits of Vasili 
 Miliukin's policy so clearly evident as in Albania. The 
 " reforms " were here regarded as a victory of the Christians 
 over the Mohammedans. If the Sultan had agreed to such 
 dire humiliation, it could only have been under compulsion. 
 Russia had again bitterly shamed the followers of the Prophet 
 and their Lord the Sultan. Deaf to the prayers and warnings 
 of Turkish officials, the wild and independent people between 
 the Adriatic and Macedonia prepared to take revenge upon 
 the enemies of Islam and the Khalif . 
 
 On both sides of the Vardar the land was already aflame 
 when the rumour flew from hut to cottage that the Albanians 
 were sallying out from their mountain hold. 
 
 In one of the villages out by Mukovo Yesero, Katya reined 
 in her foaming, trembling mount. Old men and women flocked 
 about her, children ran out into the fields to call their parents 
 in to where " the Princess " halted under the flowering 
 acacias. 
 
 The old Muktar of the village asked her if it were true that 
 the Albanians again were coming, as they had done three 
 years before, to tear down the Russian flag from the Con- 
 sulate in Stradovo, and murder the great Gospodar, the 
 Russian Consul. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " I believe it is so. But do not fear, 
 my children, Halim Pasha has many new troops, and there 
 have come cannon also from Salonika and Tsargrad. Do not 
 fear, the Russian Consul will be well defended." 
 
 " But we, Princess, ourselves ?" The Muktar shook his 
 grey head apprehensively; women and children sighed in
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 209 
 
 chorus. The sound was as the breathing of the lake itself 
 at evening. 
 
 " Hasten in to Stradovo, as many of you as can, and seek 
 safety behind the guns of Halim Pasha's men." 
 
 " And the sick, Princess ? And all the little we have 
 corn in the fields and ox and horse in stable ?" 
 
 " Ah, Heaven, if I could only help you !" 
 
 " If you cannot, Princess, who can ?" 
 
 There was a sound of hoofs upon the road : two riders were 
 bearing down at a sharp trot upon the little group beneath 
 the acacias. 
 
 It was George Farringham and his kavass. A bright smile 
 flashed across Katya's face, and she waved her riding-whip 
 in welcome. 
 
 " You here again, and alone ? Where is Yussuf ?" he 
 asked anxiously. 
 
 " Yussuf will come all right he can't keep up with Mazeppa, 
 and he's simply loaded up with things for the poor people here." 
 
 " I entreat you, let me escort you back to Stradovo. It is 
 not courage to ride out here alone at such a time it is mad- 
 ness." His eyes rested on her with an anxiety which matched 
 the tone and tenor of his words. Katya felt a little thrill 
 of pleasure. 
 
 " Very well, George, we can ride back together." 
 
 Katya brushed her hair back from her forehead. She 
 seemed to waft away with the same movement all the late 
 anxiety from her mind. 
 
 " Be of good courage, my children," she said in Servian to 
 the expectant group about her. " It may not be true, after 
 all, that the Albanians are coming. Yussuf will be here 
 directly with some little presents; divide them among your- 
 selves, and tell him that the English Consul and I ride back 
 to the city by the Mukovo road." 
 
 She gathered up her reins. The crowd parted to let her 
 through. But there was no murmur of homage to the 
 daughter of the ancient Servian Princes. 
 
 Katya turned in her saddle to wave farewell. " Good- 
 bye, my children, I will come again !" 
 
 The Muktar shook his grey head sorrowfully. His eyes 
 and those of all looked enmity at the horseman who had taken 
 their Princess from them in their direst need. 
 
 14
 
 210 KATYA 
 
 " George," said Katya thoughtfully, as they rode at a foot 
 pace down the steep descent to Mukovo, " I believe you would 
 find me wherever I might be in all the world." 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " And yet you never came to Priluka." 
 
 " You did not give me time. You are so quick; we others 
 are more slow to act, and perhaps more slow to change." 
 
 " Come with us to Priluka next summer, when Niki gets 
 his leave. He has well deserved it, poor fellow. For three 
 years he has not been outside the place." 
 
 " I don't think I will, thanks." 
 
 " Why ever not ? And you say it so seriously. ..." 
 
 " Because I do not wish to lose the right I have of seeing 
 you." 
 
 " Would you lose that by coming to my home ?" 
 
 " Yes; your husband would never forgive me. Our rela- 
 tions his and mine, I mean have changed here in Stradovo, 
 though I cannot see that I have anything to reproach myself 
 with. I ought, perhaps, to apply for a transfer. To do so 
 now would look like cowardice, otherwise I would ask the 
 Ambassador to use his influence . . ." 
 
 " And I, George you do not ask what I might wish ?" 
 
 " I think you know that you have ruled my life from the 
 day I saw you, seventeen years ago." 
 
 " You are faithful friends, you Englishmen." She reached 
 him a hand. He pressed it warmly. A moment after she 
 added, half to herself, "Nobody calls me 'petite Rilinski' now." 
 
 " Are you so sure of that ? Your friend v. Eichwald might 
 feel tempted, when he talks with Halim Pasha of what he 
 calls your ' agitation ' among the Servian peasants. ..." 
 
 " Have you ever heard him call me so ?" 
 
 " Never. But I know that he has made complaint about 
 your expeditions out here both to Halim Pasha and to his 
 own Ambassador in Constantinople." 
 
 " Thanks. That I knew already. He has spoken to Niki 
 about it too, and old Korenof is wild with me again. I don't 
 care. I shall do what I like. Trot !" 
 
 Mazeppa soon took the lead, and left the others far behind. 
 Katya turned in her saddle, waving her whip to Farringham, 
 and. shouting: " Come along !" 
 
 He spurred his horse to a gallop. But as soon as Katya
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 211 
 
 heard the sound of hoofs approaching, she gathered up her 
 reins, touched Mazeppa's neck with her whip, and pressed 
 a spurred heel lightly against the horse's flank. 
 
 The thoroughbred flew like a grey-winged arrow over the 
 road beside the blue lake where diving pelicans waked ripples, 
 and wild swans drew light wave-lines with their wings. The 
 pair dashed forward, over hard rock and loose, rolling stones, 
 that rattled beneath the swift hoofs. The warm, still air 
 of June became a cooling breeze that played refreshingly 
 about the woman's hair and cheeks. She leaned back in 
 the saddle, giving Mazeppa the rein, and let her whip flick 
 past the beast's excited eyes. 
 
 Up in the sloping fields above the blue Mukovo, Servian 
 peasants ceased their work, and shaded eyes to watch the 
 Princess riding furiously in her wild play with the man who 
 strove to follow. Her cry gave echo among the rocks about 
 the Sea of Pain. With hands raised high above her head 
 she held her whip as a Cossack holds his lance when he waves 
 triumphant greeting to his love. 
 
 Farringham galloped after her as fast as his horse could 
 go; but the distance between them only increased. He called 
 to her to halt and wait. She did not hear. She seemed to 
 be fleeing from him with a purpose to distance him until 
 he could not follow. 
 
 But as the minarets of Stradovo showed against the cloud- 
 less sky, Katya took up her reins again, halted her horse, 
 and patted the shining neck with its swelling veins. Then, 
 turning, she glanced with a triumphant smile at the man who 
 strove to follow and find her where she might be in all the 
 world. 
 
 " George, you should come to Ukraine, and let us teach 
 you how to ride." 
 
 When he came up, they moved off together at a walk, his 
 eyes resting upon her all the time. 
 
 " I wonder," he said at last, " how many men have found 
 their fate in you ?" 
 
 She laughed gleefully, and answered in her most mischievous 
 tone: " Shall we say as the sands of the sea as the stars in 
 the sky ?" 
 
 " You should not make it matter for a jest. I know that 
 for me at least it is earnest."
 
 212 KATYA 
 
 " Oh, please don't lecture me ! Niki has done nothing else 
 this last year. I wish we were well out of Stradovo. It is 
 beginning to be unbearable." 
 
 " Since I came ?" 
 
 " No, George, I didn't mean that. We're all so glad to 
 have you here." 
 
 He smiled bitterly. " You see nothing but what you please 
 to see," he said. " Your husband is longing for an oppor- 
 tunity to break off all relations with me get rid of me. And 
 little Anna hates me with all her child's heart." 
 
 " Anna ? What an idea ! Really, Farringham, you are 
 growing hysterical." 
 
 " I have done all I could to make friends with the child, 
 but she positively thrusts me away. She will scarcely give 
 me her hand when I come to call. I have heard her speak 
 excellent English with Miss Warden ; whenever I address her, 
 she answers abruptly in French. I bring her little presents; 
 she murmurs ' Merci, monsieur,' and lays them aside. Next 
 day I find them in the hands of half-naked children playing 
 on the banks of the Badiska." 
 
 " But that is really horribly naughty of her. I must put 
 a stop to this." 
 
 " I beg you to do nothing in the matter. Leave Anna to 
 herself, and let me try . . . while there is time ..." 
 
 " But Sergei I know he ..." 
 
 " That is another thing. The boy is of your blood. The 
 people here were right when they called him ' little Prince 
 Rilinski.' " 
 
 " To hear you talk like that, George, one would think that 
 my house was the scene of a drama divided against itself. 
 I can't help saying it you are horribly sentimental, and you 
 imagine all sorts of things which have not the slightest 
 foundation in reality." 
 
 " I know what I know, and you are wrong if you believe 
 that it is for myself I am afraid." 
 
 " Is it, then, on my account ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Pooh !" She laughed contemptuously. All the same, 
 she drew her brows together, and stared absently before 
 her. 
 
 " If only I could find a reasonable excuse to get away from
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 213 
 
 here," went on Farringham. " But it is not easy to manage 
 it. My uncle's influence is not so great, and he was far from 
 pleased when I applied for Stradovo. Moreover, it would 
 seem as if one were afraid, to leave just now, when things 
 are looking dangerous." 
 
 " Stay, George." She gave him her hand once more. 
 
 " I would stay by you always if I could. You must know 
 that." 
 
 She sent him a grateful glance. " I know that I can trust 
 you, my English knight." 
 
 " Trust me you can, whatever happens in your life or 
 mine." 
 
 Yussuf had overtaken them now, and was riding behind, 
 with Farringham's kavass. The hoofs of the four horses 
 flung up a flour-white cloud of dust as they rode through the 
 streets of Stradovo. 
 
 It was a weekday, but on every side they found barred 
 doors and shuttered windows. Not a living soul was to be 
 seen. Stradovo seemed forsaken dead. 
 
 After a while a patrol appeared, entering the main street 
 from an alley. The soldiers hurried up towards the four. 
 
 " What does this mean ?" whispered Katya anxiously. 
 " Yussuf," she went on, turning to the kavass, " ask the 
 officer in charge what is the matter." 
 
 They reined in. The soldiers surrounded them. Yussuf 
 exchanged a few words with the officer of the patrol, and 
 turned with visible emotion to report. 
 
 " The town is under martial law an hour since ..." 
 
 Katya translated into French, breathlessly, and with 
 heaving breast. Farringham strove to follow Yussuf's 
 Russian, too impatient to wait for Katya to interpret. 
 
 " Two Servian peasants and a Bulgarian merchant have 
 been murdered in the bazar, after an altercation with some 
 armed Mohammedans. Meetings are being held in the 
 mosques. The Albanians have fired on the Turkish outposts. 
 The officer here requests Your Highness to return at once to 
 the Consulate. Halim Pasha has issued orders that none 
 may leave their houses before sunrise to-morrow ..." 
 
 " But what about the Mohammedans who are holding 
 meetings ?" 
 
 Yussuf translated the question.
 
 214 KATYA 
 
 " The Mohammedans will be escorted to their homes by 
 troops. Halim Pasha is responsible for the public safety." 
 
 " And what does the Russian Consul say ?" asked Katya 
 proudly. " Does he submit to being confined to his house 
 by Halim Pasha's order ?" 
 
 Farringham could not understand what she was saying, 
 but put in an observation to the effect that it was fruitless 
 to prolong discussion with a subordinate officer, who was only 
 carrying out orders received. 
 
 " I want to know if Halim Pasha has dared to issue orders 
 to the Consuls. Surely that concerns you also ?" 
 
 " Of course. But here in the streets is hardly ..." 
 
 Yussuf translated the officer's reply. " No exceptions have 
 been made, Your Highness. The officer's orders are to see 
 that none enter or leave the town without a pass from Halim 
 Pasha. Any persons encountered in the street are to be 
 escorted to their residence by the patrol. The officer requests 
 Your Highness to proceed by the shortest way to the Con- 
 sulate. He will escort you first, and then the British Consul . . ." 
 
 " Tell him I ride what road I will, and do not desire his 
 escort." 
 
 " I beg you," interposed Farringham anxiously, " let us 
 make an end of this discussion." 
 
 " The officer regrets that his orders do not permit him to 
 act otherwise than as he has said." 
 
 While Yussuf was speaking, a soldier caught Mazeppa's 
 bridle. 
 
 " Farringham, you may submit to this if you like I will 
 not !" Katya raised her whip, and would have struck the 
 soldier had not Farringham swiftly parried with his own 
 kurbash. There was a murmur among the troops. The 
 officer took a step forward, and laid one hand on his sword-hilt. 
 
 Farringham called up his kavass. 
 
 " Tell him to call off his men at once. We have no objec- 
 tion to the patrol following us at a distance, but if anyone 
 lays hand on Madame Karatayef's horse or mine, I shall 
 immediately report to Halim Pasha." 
 
 " The officer asks if Your Excellency will answer for the 
 lady's immediate return to the Russian Consulate ?" 
 
 " Tell him he can follow us if he wishes, but that we shall 
 ride where we please."
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 215 
 
 The riders moved forward, the patrol following in two lines, 
 one on either side of the street. The town was silent as the 
 grave: the thick dust deadened the sound of the horses' 
 hoofs. Now and then the officer's sword rang against a stone; 
 the men cast' angry glances at Katya. 
 
 " Farringham, this is humiliating," she said with a frown. 
 " Niki would never have put up with such treatment as you 
 have allowed these men to offer us both." 
 
 " Believe me, you are mistaken. I hope to have been the 
 means of preventing misfortune both to you yourself and 
 your husband." 
 
 " Strange how concerned you are for his welfare !" Katya 
 spoke contemptuously. 
 
 " For once, I think Karatayef will thank me," answered 
 Farringham quietly. 
 
 " I say no I You do not know the Russian Consul in 
 Stradovo !" 
 
 They rode on in silence, side by side. A little distance 
 ahead was the side street through which they must pass to 
 reach the Russian Consulate on the river bank. Farringham 
 waited anxiously to see what Katya would do when they 
 reached it. 
 
 Suddenly a noise of shouting reached them. The riders 
 and the patrol halted involuntarily to listen. The soldiers 
 looked to their arms. 
 
 " Open ! Open 1 Take down your shutters and go about 
 your work in safety. I promise you no harm shall come to 
 you I, the Russian Consul !" 
 
 " Niki ! Hurrah, it is Niki !" Katya spurred her horse 
 forward, and turned down the side street from whence the 
 cries came. Farringham and the kavasses followed. The 
 soldiers looked hesitatingly after and glanced at their leader. 
 " Double !" shouted the officer, and the patrol dashed after 
 the galloping riders. The whole was a matter of seconds. 
 
 Consul Karatayef walked alone through the shut and silent 
 town, a kavass in front, another behind. He was in uniform, 
 but unarmed, save for his little " nagaika " the short-handled 
 Russian whip with its long thick lash. The kavass in front 
 called ceaselessly in a high, clear voice : " Open, open ! 
 The Russian Consul gives you safety. Open, and go about 
 your work !"
 
 216 KATYA 
 
 Katya sprang from her horse and flung the reins to Yussuf . 
 Then, taking the fall of her habit over her arm, she ran up 
 to her husband, calling to him ere she reached him. 
 
 " Bravo, Niki, bravo ! Let me come with you !" 
 
 His face lit with a quick smile that vanished, however, as 
 soon as he caught sight of Farringham in Katya's train. 
 
 The Turkish officer came up, breathless, and saluting Consul 
 Karatayef, inquired how the latter's present action was to 
 be understood in view of Halim Pasha's order. 
 
 " It is not my business to give you explanations, sir. I must 
 refer you to your superior officer," answered Niki brusquely. 
 
 " My orders admit of no misunderstanding," returned the 
 other. " If you will not return to the Consulate of your own 
 free will, I have no alternative but to compel." 
 
 " Are you mad, sir ? You do not appear to know to whom 
 you are speaking !" 
 
 Karatayef raised his whip with an involuntary movement, 
 letting it fall again immediately. The two kavasses drew 
 up on either side of him, their hands on their revolvers. 
 Katya took his arm. 
 
 The soldiers closed round their commander. At the same 
 time other patrols began to appear, and approached the 
 group which hid the Russian Consul and his wife, while 
 Farringham and his kavass, still mounted, were visible at 
 a distance. 
 
 The Turkish subaltern looked about him, seeking an officer 
 of higher rank on whom he might fall back for support. The 
 newly arrived patrols were, however, commanded by non- 
 commissioned officers. Here and there along the street 
 through which Karatayef had come, windows were being 
 thrown open and shutters taken down. 
 
 The officer found his voice at last. 
 
 " I am aware, sir, that you are the Russian Consul, but you 
 are not my superior officer, and I cannot consent to take 
 orders from you !" 
 
 " Do you expect me to obey yours ?" 
 
 " I am acting according to the General's instructions." 
 
 " Then you had better have those instructions amended 
 before it is too late." 
 
 Katya pressed her husband's arm. " Come, Niki, let us 
 go on. We shall see if these scoundrels dare to touch us 1"
 
 HORSEMANSHIP AND OTHER MATTERS 217 
 
 At the same moment, Farringham, realizing her intention, 
 sprang from his horse and called up his kavass. 
 
 " Excuse me, Karatayef a moment. I know this doesn't 
 concern me ..." 
 
 " Not in the least," broke in Niki coldly. " You can 
 return to your Consulate under escort " he waved a 
 scornful hand " if you are afraid." 
 
 " There are more ways than one of showing courage, 
 Karatayef. You are risking more lives than your own at this 
 moment. I pass over your last words, and beg you to let 
 me make an end of this painful scene." 
 
 " I do not need your assistance, thank you, either here or 
 elsewhere." 
 
 " Niki, remember you are not alone." Katya withdrew 
 her arm from his. It was as though she suddenly took sides 
 against him. 
 
 " Mr. Farringham will perhaps escort you home you are 
 generally glad of his company." Karatayef spoke calmly, 
 but the hand that held the whip trembled slightly. 
 
 Katya's eyes blazed with anger and defiance. She drew 
 herself up and turned to Farringham. 
 
 " Give me your arm, George; you will see me home ?" 
 
 Farringham bowed. " I am honoured," he said. " One 
 moment; I have a word to say to the officer here. Tell him," 
 he went on, turning to his kavass, " that the British Consul 
 takes the full responsibility for his neglecting to carry out 
 the General's orders. As soon as I have escorted Her High- 
 ness to the Russian Consulate, I will call upon Halim Pasha 
 in person. Let the soldiers make way for the Russian Consul 
 and myself." 
 
 He gave Katya his arm, and bowed stiffly to Karatayef. 
 The officer gave an order, and the patrol divided to let them 
 pass. Niki's eyes followed his wife, who walked steadily on 
 without turning. He felt the blood rushing to his heart. 
 For a moment it seemed as if he could not keep back the cry 
 of " Katya !" that pressed to his lips. With a violent effort 
 he recalled himself to present realities. Lifting his whip, he 
 gave the short, sharp order: " Forward !" 
 
 With bowed head, and sick at heart, Niki Karatayef pursued 
 his lonely way through the deserted streets, the kavass before 
 him calling as before :
 
 2i8 KATYA 
 
 " Open ! The Russian Consul answers for your safety. 
 Open, and to your work !" 
 
 Katya and Farringham walked silently, side by side, in the 
 opposite direction. As they neared the fortified gateway of 
 the Consulate, Katya glanced at her companion. 
 
 " We were in the wrong, perhaps, after all," she said. 
 Her voice was dull and tired. 
 
 " I, perhaps. Not you." 
 
 " And why you ?" 
 
 " Because I knew that I was defending you not only against 
 the insolence of the men, but against your husband himself. 
 And that Karata)'ef will never forgive me." 
 
 " That means it is all over, then with you and ourselves 
 here ?" 
 
 " Yes. For your sake I could forget his insult to myself, 
 but I cannot remain on terms of intimacy with your husband 
 after what has passed. If he calls me to account for what 
 I have done, I shall be ready to meet him." 
 
 " No, not that ! Oh, how stupid men are I" He shrugged 
 his shoulders, and she added, with an impatient movement: 
 " And slow, George, miserably slow ! Never one of you all 
 that really understood me." 
 
 " It may be so; but perhaps it has not always been the 
 men who were in fault." 
 
 " Yes, it is. Always you ask for explanations, long as a 
 book. None of you ever feel what is in my heart not till 
 long after. And now both you and Niki have made me 
 miserable . . . even the peasants out by Mukovo did not salute 
 me as they used. . . . Oh, it is horrible here in this place ! 
 I can't bear it any longer ! I will go back to Priluka the 
 sooner the better." 
 
 Farringham looked long at her, " Do not forget," he said, 
 and there was a melancholy of farewell in his voice ; "do 
 not forget that you may trust me, whatever happens in your 
 life or mine. I love you. But in my inmost heart I think 
 I fear you." 
 
 " You also ? Oh, what can it be in me that makes men 
 fear ?" 
 
 " Ask of your husband of yourself, when you are alone. 
 I cannot answer you not yet. Perhaps one day, if we 
 meet. ... I must go now." He drew himself up. " Halim
 
 THE RUSSIAN CONSUL'S LAST REPORT 219 
 
 Pasha expects me. Good-bye, Katya, remember me a little 
 sometimes." 
 
 He kissed her hand and moved rapidly away. Katya 
 stood a moment looking after him. 
 
 Then, lifting her hand wearily to her head, she sighed, and 
 turned. The heavy door of the Consulate fell to with a clang. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE RUSSIAN CONSUL WRITES HIS LAST REPORT 
 
 CONSUL KARATAYEF and his wife sat at dinner with the 
 children. Anna was quick to perceive that her father and 
 mother were troubled, and guarded in their manner towards 
 each other. Miss Warden construed the atmosphere of 
 depression about the household as due to the news of the 
 Albanians' advance. Little Sergei felt himself neglected. 
 His tutor was not at table that day, and he could not under- 
 stand why his father was not as kindly and interested as 
 usual. 
 
 " Papa, you've no idea how splendidly my new kites fly: 
 the ones Uncle George gave me. I flew all three of them at 
 once to-day, and they went up ever so much higher than the 
 house." 
 
 " Eat your dinner, Sergei, and do not talk so much," said 
 Katya. 
 
 A few moments later, however, the boy began again : 
 
 " Papa, Uncle George says Mazeppa is the finest horse he 
 has ever seen, and that mama rides ..." 
 
 " Be quiet, Sergei ! Am I to send you from the table ?" 
 
 " Papa," began Anna, " how far away are the Albanians 
 now ?" 
 
 " Ten or twelve versts, dear, as far as we know." 
 
 " Are there very many of them ?" 
 
 " I don't know how many there are. But you need not 
 be afraid. There are troops enough, at any rate, to prevent 
 their entering the town." 
 
 Miss Warden asked if it were true that the town had been 
 placed under martial law. 
 
 " Yes," answered the Consul. " I was officially informed
 
 220 KATYA 
 
 this afternoon. A very natural precaution when an attack 
 is expected from without. Moreover, the General is acting 
 at the express injunction of Hassan Fehmi Pasha. He is in 
 Skoplie at present. But it is unpardonable weakness on the 
 part of Halim Pasha to allow the Mohammedans to hold 
 meetings in their mosques, while the Christian artisans and 
 tradesmen are shut up in their houses as though it were they 
 who were responsible for the murders of this morning." 
 
 " Was that why you went through the town to-day, Niki ?" 
 asked Katya. 
 
 " Yes," answered Niki curtly, without looking at her. 
 
 " But did not Halim Pasha know what you were doing ?" 
 
 " I sent a messenger to tell him of my intention when I 
 started out." 
 
 " Have you heard from him since ?" 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 " And no one stopped you, after we after I left you ?" 
 
 " Yes, several times." 
 
 " What happened ? Tell me about it, Niki." 
 
 " There is nothing to tell. I carried out my intention." 
 
 " But the patrols the Turkish officers ?" 
 
 " Some went on their way without further trouble, as soon 
 as they heard that I had acquainted Halim Pasha of my 
 movement. Others tried to threaten. I had my whip." 
 
 " Niki you did not use it ?" There was a note of fear in 
 Katya' s voice. 
 
 " Only once. A soldier laid his hand on my arm. I took 
 his name and the number of the patrol. No. 9, Abbas." 
 
 Anna began to cry quietly. 
 
 " What is the matter, child ? You see I am here again, 
 safe and unharmed." 
 
 " But for Heaven's sake, tell us what happened, Niki ! It 
 is horrible for us all not to know." 
 
 " I ought not to have said anything about it at all. The 
 whole thing is of no importance. The man caught hold of 
 my arm, thinking I was going to strike the officer commanding 
 the patrol, which I had no intention of doing. The moment 
 he touched me I cut him over the shoulders with my whip ..." 
 
 Katya nodded. " I see. I should have done the same 
 myself." 
 
 " The fellow never made a sound, but stood there staring
 
 THE RUSSIAN CONSUL'S LAST REPORT 221 
 
 at me. His astonishment was almost comical to see. The 
 officer a sergeant didn't quite like the position, and drew 
 off his men, but not until I had taken his number." 
 
 " And what do you intend to do about it ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all. Friend Abbas will know better another 
 time." 
 
 There was silence for a moment ; then suddenly little Sergei 
 broke in : 
 
 " Papa, can Uncle George beat the Turkish soldiers, 
 too ?" 
 
 Karatayef struck the table with his clenched fist. " Miss 
 Warden," he said angrily, " can you not break the child of 
 these intolerable questions ?" 
 
 At this Sergei burst into tears, sobbing noisily and without 
 restraint. 
 
 " Miss Warden " Katya's tone was hard " will you take 
 the children to their rooms ? I see they are not yet sufficiently 
 grown up to sit at table with their parents." 
 
 " Anna may stay if she likes," amended Karatayef curtly. 
 
 " No thank you, papa." Anna rose obediently, and going 
 round to her father, whispered in his ear: " You will come 
 up and say good-night to me, papa ?" Karatayef nodded, 
 and the child left the room. 
 
 The Consul and his wife finished their meal alone. Neither 
 spoke, nor looked at the other, until they rose from table. 
 
 " Katya," said Karatayef then, " I should like to speak 
 to you, if you have time." 
 
 " Certainly, dear." She caught the little tremor in her 
 own voice. " In the Servian room if it suits you ?" 
 
 " Wherever you please." 
 
 " Very well. I will tell them to light the lamps." 
 
 The room in which Katya kept her Servian collection 
 looked out upon the Badiska. It was hung entirely with 
 the hard, stiff stuffs which the peasants of Kossovo have 
 made for centuries. Tables and chairs were covered with 
 embroidered work such as is used for the peasant costumes 
 of the country. The floor was covered with long-fleeced, 
 brightly coloured sheep-skins. The lamps, with their great, 
 fantastically patterned shades, were further darkened by 
 the heavy draping of walls and ceiling. Up in a corner, 
 among old Albanian weapons, hung a sheaf of Katya's riding-
 
 222 KATYA 
 
 whips, mounted in gold, silver, agate, and lapis lazuli the 
 offerings of men from many lands. 
 
 Katya seated herself on a divan heavily piled with gold- 
 embroidered cushions, and rested her head in her hands. 
 
 " What is it, Niki ?" she said at last. 
 
 " What I have to say to you, Katya, is something which 
 I ought, perhaps, to have said long ago. But I have shirked 
 it hitherto. Perhaps, also, I have been foolish enough to 
 believe that you would yourself render it unnecessary. But 
 it must stop. I forbid you for the future to show yourself 
 alone with Farringham. I shall call upon him myself to- 
 morrow, and request him to discontinue his visits to the 
 house here, as well as his meetings with you out by Mukovo." 
 
 " You forbid me, Niki ? I don't know how Farringham 
 will take what you intend to say, but I will not submit to 
 be spoken to in such a tone. If you wish me to leave the 
 room . ." 
 
 " You will stay .where you are, and hear what I have to 
 say. I do not complain of the manner in which you have 
 treated me. But it is time you were reminded of the fact 
 that you neglect our children, and that you are compromising 
 your own name and mine." 
 
 " Niki, be careful !" 
 
 " The Ambassador has again received complaints about 
 you. I have a letter from him to-day in which he earnestly 
 requests me to put a stop to the manner in which my wife, 
 in company with the representative of Great Britain, incites 
 the peasants to . . ." 
 
 " Oh, it is too ridiculous ! Do you really take any notice 
 of such nonsense ?" 
 
 " I am perfectly aware that Von Eichwald and Halim Pasha 
 are at the bottom of it all. But what can I do, when I am 
 unable to answer, either officially or privately, that the com- 
 plaints are unfounded ? All Constantinople knows of your 
 disgraceful ..." 
 
 " Disgraceful ! This is going too far !" 
 
 " I say disgraceful. The whole business is no doubt already 
 well known in St. Petersburg. Sooner or later it will reach 
 Miliukin's ears; and for your pleasure to gratify a reckless 
 whim you leave your children to the care of servants, you 
 ruin my career, my whole life yes, and Farringham's also.
 
 I tell you, Katya, I am sometimes afraid to think what you 
 can do." 
 
 "" One might almost think you hated me, Niki." Her 
 voice was harsh; her great eyes followed every movement of 
 her husband as he paced up and down the room. 
 
 " Do you think I should suffer as I do if I hated you, 
 Katya ? But what do you care for that ? Have you ever 
 so much as thought if I suffered or not ? Three years ago, 
 the night we left Odessa, you said that you would dance into 
 Stradovo, and you have done so. You have danced un- 
 troubled, early and late, caring nothing what it might cost 
 us all whose lives are bound to yours here in this place." 
 
 From the quay outside came the sound of many feet in 
 step, and a faint rattle of arms. Niki drew the curtain aside 
 and looked out. 
 
 " Another battalion moving out against the Albanians," 
 he said. " And it is only a couple of days since I received 
 a threatening letter from the Bulgarian revolutionary 
 committee ..." 
 
 " You never told me, Niki." 
 
 " You had no time. You were out riding with Farringham, 
 exhibiting your Servian peasants and the homage of your 
 faithful subjects Princess ! Just as to-day, when the 
 Albanians came down to demand revenge on me. And now 
 Halim Pasha's officers are against me; the troops as well. 
 The Ambassador in Constantinople regards me with distrust. 
 Soon it will be Miliukin himself. And in the face of all this, 
 you choose to take Farringham's arm, and leave me . . ." 
 
 " Niki, you promised me once that you would never make 
 me sorry, never cause me tears." 
 
 He twitched a riding-whip from the trophy on the wall 
 and slashed with it viciously in the air. 
 
 " Katya, there have been times of late when I have feared 
 myself more than everything else. I have longed to see you 
 in tears to see you crushed with pain and repentance." 
 
 She rose and stood a moment, stiff and pale. " Niki," she 
 said at last, " if you strike me, I will kill you !" 
 
 He laughed shortly. " Little need," he said bitterly. 
 " There are men enough here who will do that work before 
 your bidding." 
 
 They stood facing each other in silence, breathing heavily.
 
 204 KATYA 
 
 " Niki," she whispered again, " if you touch me now, I 
 shall hate you for all my life." 
 
 " You lie, Katya, to yourself and to me. You can neither 
 hate nor love for all your life." 
 
 He flung the whip away and went on, speaking with an 
 intensity of emotion long repressed. " You have borne 
 children, but you are barren, Katya. You care for Priluka, 
 perhaps, and its memories beyond that there is not a single 
 deep or lasting feeling in you. You are clever yes, clever 
 as few women are, and you can do great things, as long as 
 they are dramatic and splendid. But your heart is little 
 little and poor, Katya." 
 
 Katya had sat down again. Her head bowed beneath his 
 words, and now and then she shivered slightly. 
 
 " Five six years more," went on Niki Karatayef, pacing 
 up and down in the half-dark of the silent room. " Still time 
 to wreck the lives of some few more as Petya Orloff's !" 
 
 " Niki, Niki, how can you be so cruel 1" 
 
 " But when your youth is gone, if, then, I am no longer 
 here, whom will you find to make a home for you ? You 
 will not always have a mother, and Priluka goes to Sasha's 
 son. Sonya has made her good and prudent choice; but you 
 are not like Sonya. What will you do when you are left alone ?" 
 
 She sprang up with a little cry, and flung herself at his 
 feet, clinging to his knees, tearless, but shivering all over 
 as with fever. 
 
 " Niki," she prayed piteously, " strike me, Niki what you 
 will only not those words, that tone ! You kill me, speak- 
 ing so." 
 
 He lifted her gently, and stroked the hair back from her 
 face, and kissed her eyes. 
 
 " My poor Katya ! my poor child !" 
 
 She drew him to the divan and crept close to him as 
 though seeking warmth and shelter. 
 
 " Stay with me, Niki; I am so afraid." 
 
 He shook his head and looked away from her, whispering 
 half to himself: " Too late !" 
 
 " Niki, you must not go to Farringham to-morrow. There 
 is no need: he will not come here any more." She paused a 
 moment, and then went on : " Niki, let us go away. Take 
 me away from Stradovo, back to Ukraine."
 
 THE RUSSIAN CONSUL'S LAST REPORT 225 
 
 He shook himself and seemed to wake. "It is too late. 
 I cannot run away from Farringham or from Stradovo." 
 
 " Only stay with me, Niki. It is for you I am afraid." 
 
 The tears came now. She hid her face among the many 
 pillows, her body rocking with heavy sobs. 
 
 He stroked her hair softly. "It is too late," he said again. 
 " Poor child, it is too late." 
 
 A shout of command broke in upon them from outside 
 a sharp, shrill order, set in the sound of hoofs and sullen 
 rumble of heavy wheels. The windows thrilled in their 
 frames. 
 
 " What is that ? Niki, what is it ?" Niki had sprung to 
 the window. Katya ran to him and clung to his arm. 
 
 " Field artillery, moving out to Mukovo. Halim Pasha 
 must have had news of the Albanians' position and plans." 
 
 " Niki, do you trust him ? Does he mean to hold the 
 place ?" 
 
 " He must, and he knows he must. Halim Pasha hates 
 me, and more than ever now, after to-day. Nevertheless, he 
 will guard my life as his own, for if I am killed here, Korenof 
 will assuredly have him shot. But I am not going to leave 
 it all to him. I will ride out to Mukovo myself to-morrow 
 morning, and have a look at the position." 
 
 " Niki, let me go with you !" 
 
 "No, dear, it is impossible. Your place is here with your 
 children, not among Turkish soldiers under arms." 
 
 She bowed her head. " You are right. But do not be 
 long away, Niki. I am so afraid !" 
 
 " My poor Katya !" He stroked her hair again. 
 
 " Do not say that any more, Niki; and do not say it is all 
 too late . . ." She put her arms about him, and crept close. 
 " Say you forgive me, Niki." 
 
 " Katya, I have loved you ever since I can remember." 
 
 " My own strong Niki ! Oh, try if you cannot trust me 
 again now !" 
 
 Consul Karatayef called Yussuf to him in his study. 
 
 " Yussuf," he said, when the kavass appeared, " it is 
 sunrise about half-past four. As far as I can judge from 
 Halim Pasha's preparations, he is expecting an attack in 
 force early to-morrow morning. I am going out to inspect 
 
 15
 
 226 KATYA 
 
 the Turkish position, if possible, before the fighting begins. 
 We shall have to leave here in time to reach Mukovo about 
 sunrise." 
 
 " Very good, Your Excellency. How many kavasses will 
 Your Excellency have ?" 
 
 " Yourself only, I think, Yussuf. That should be suffi- 
 cient." 
 
 " If I might suggest two, Your Excellency. In case a 
 messenger should be necessary, for instance . . ." 
 
 " True. We will take Ibrahim as well. I will give orders 
 to the maids to have some food ready packed for one of you 
 to carry. You will call me in good time, and the horses must 
 be saddled at four not later." 
 
 " Very good, Your Excellency." 
 
 " No news from the town, Yussuf ? Is all quiet ?" 
 
 " All is quiet, Your Excellency." 
 
 " Thanks. That is all, then, till to-morrow." 
 
 The table was littered with papers. Karatayef's fingers 
 moved instinctively to lay them in order. His eyes fell upon 
 the last letter from Korenof, marked " Private," and in- 
 voluntarily he commenced to read it through, but laid it 
 down again with a sigh, and locked it in a drawer. Thereupon 
 he set to work to draw up his report upon the events of the 
 day, checking himself, however, to scribble upon a loose 
 scrap of paper the words " Patrol No. 9, Abbas." Then he 
 fell to again, his pen moving swiftly over the broad sheets. 
 
 " Some armed Mohammedans forced their way into the 
 bazaar, and picked a quarrel with two unarmed Servian 
 peasants and a Bulgarian milk-dealer. . . . Halim Pasha 
 let these Mohammedans swagger about the bazaar, armed to 
 the teeth, while the poor Christian Slavs were not allowed 
 to carry so much as a knife. . . . The news of the triple 
 murder spread quickly through the town. . . ." Had Halim 
 Pasha had the courage to arrest the murderers ? Kara- 
 tayef noted down on his slip of paper the single word " mur- 
 derers." The matter would have to be looked into at 
 once. . . . "News reached me that the Albanians had ex- 
 changed shots with the Turkish outposts. Shortly after- 
 wards, one of Halim Pasha's aides-de-camp informed me 
 that the town had been declared under martial law. Against 
 this I had no protest to make. At the same time, however,
 
 THE RUSSIAN CONSUL'S LAST REPORT 227 
 
 I received from private sources a notification of the fact that 
 the Mohammedans were holding meetings in their mosques, 
 while the remaining population was confined behind closed 
 doors, the town being thus practically at the mercy of the 
 Mohammedans. I decided . . ." 
 
 The clear, level writing filled sheet after sheet. Consul 
 Karatayef wrote on, hearing vaguely behind his thoughts the 
 singing of the lamp and the scratching of his pen. A sense 
 of loneliness began to creep in upon him. He forced himself 
 to concentrate his mind upon his work. But through the 
 heavy silence came voices, whispering, warning voices 
 from somewhere far off. . . . 
 
 " At the same moment I caught sight of Katya and George 
 Farringham ..." 
 
 Nikolai Karatayef paused in his work and smiled. " Katya 
 and George Farringham ..." And this was the draft of his 
 official despatch, to be read by Korenof and Miliukin. . . . 
 He shook his head, half pityingly. " I am getting beyond 
 work," he said to himself. " It's time I gave it up ... gave 
 it all up." He leaned his head upon his left hand, and com- 
 menced to erase the last sentence with slow, thoughtful strokes. 
 The strokes grew to curls and flourishes. His pen would 
 not leave the paper. His eyes saw vaguely through a dancing 
 mist; the lines upon the paper wove themselves into fan- 
 tastically intricate design. The lamp was singing like a shell 
 pressed close against the ear. The pen played on behind 
 the grey mist. Out of the wreathed and interwoven lines 
 a name took form. " Katya," he wrote and saw, and struck 
 it out. The pen moved forward to a new blank space. 
 " Katya," it wrote again. And for a third time " Katya." 
 Quickly, anxiously, the pen harked back across the words, 
 burying carefully, like tell-tale signs of crime, each single 
 letter under heavy stroke and blot. And forward again, 
 in wreathing, whirling lines, until the page was filled. He 
 turned the sheet, and with the rich blank space before it his 
 pen fell to its work afresh. 
 
 Out of the mist there grew another word. " Sonya," he wrote 
 and heard, from far away, as breathed through infinite 
 depths, a voice that whispered " Sonya" . . . whispered and 
 melted into the pale echo of a little shuddering gasp, heard 
 long ago in the strained, sunlit silence of a summer's day. . . .
 
 228 KATYA 
 
 The mist cleared from his eyes. He dropped his pen and 
 put one hand to his head. 
 
 How long this waking nightmare had lasted he did not 
 know. Still half-bewildered, he glanced at his watch. It was 
 nearly midnight. 
 
 " And I promised little Anna . . ." 
 
 He stole quietly through the house to the child's room, and 
 opened the door carefully, not to disturb her in case she slept. 
 
 " Is that you, papa ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear. Were you asleep ?" 
 
 " No, papa, I was waiting for you." 
 
 He sat down on the edge of the bed and she took his hand. 
 
 " Papa, I wish you and grandpapa were not so sorry." 
 
 "There, there, child, do not be afraid; and don't think 
 any more about what I told you at dinner. It was wrong of 
 me to say anything about it." 
 
 " Papa, can the Albanians come into Stradovo and hurt 
 you ?" 
 
 " No, dearest, of course not. I am going out to-morrow 
 morning long before you are awake, to see that the soldiers 
 are taking care of us all." 
 
 " Then I can write and tell grandpapa to-morrow?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, do. And promise me not to be afraid any 
 more, and not to be anxious to-morrow if I have not come 
 back by the time you get up." 
 
 " Papa, will you say prayers with me ?" 
 
 " Indeed I will, dear." 
 
 She knelt up in bed, her small hands clasped about her 
 father's. Together, speaking very quietly, they said the little 
 simple prayer that every evening rises from many a child's 
 heart in hope and faith, in doubt and fear. 
 
 " . . . And please take care of father, for grandpapa and 
 I love him so very much ..." 
 
 Karatayef caught the child to his breast, and pressed the 
 little trembling body against his own. Laying her gently 
 down, he drew the coverings carefully about her. 
 
 He stood a moment in silence. Then, in the dark, he made 
 the sign of the cross above his child, and went.
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 229 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 
 
 THE day was breaking as Consul Karatayef, followed by his 
 two kavasses, rode out towards the valley by Mukovo 
 Yesero, through which the Badiska flows down to Stradovo. 
 All was cool and quiet in the early dawn. The world seemed 
 still asleep in the lingering peace of the summer night. 
 
 " There are horsemen behind, Your Excellency. They are 
 coming nearer." 
 
 " Good. Let them come." 
 
 The darkness faded slowly. From bush and thicket came 
 the timid piping of the first awakening birds; the little music 
 of the river played now near, now far, as the riders' way 
 followed or left its course. Veils of thin vapour hung, half 
 mist, half cloud, among the higher hills. In the east the 
 spreading light deepened and grew to tongues of flame. A 
 faint, pale memory that had been floating vaguely through 
 his mind took form at last, and Niki heard again the wave 
 of melancholy song that swelled and sank like waters of the 
 lake at far Priluka: " Hearest thou Dniepr sobbing in the 
 reeds ? . , ." 
 
 " Turkish officers, Your Excellency." 
 
 " Good. Let them come." 
 
 The sun was very near. Its straight-flung beams spread 
 fan wise up into the pearl of the middle heaven, piercing the 
 mists that yet clung to the night-cooled slopes, and lighting 
 the pine-clad peaks that seemed to hover in a glory of rose 
 above the grey, dank clouds of earth. . . . There was another 
 song from that same evening at Priluka ..." Sword and 
 saddle, and trumpets' call ..." 
 
 " It is Halim Pasha with his staff, Your Excellency." 
 
 " Good. Let him come." 
 
 The rattle of hoofs was closer now. Karatayef turned in 
 his saddle. 
 
 " Good-morning, Your Excellency. Mornings are getting 
 cooler already." 
 
 " Good-morning, Monsieur le Consul. You are out early." 
 
 The two horsemen exchanged a sharp glance.
 
 230 KATYA 
 
 " When one is being hunted like a fox, one likes to have 
 a look at the hunters. Would Your Excellency not do the 
 same ?" 
 
 " No one doubts your courage, Monsieur le Consul. There 
 is no need for you to seek danger in order to prove it." 
 
 " I thank Your Excellency. A soldier as yourself knows 
 how to appreciate both courage and sense of duty." 
 
 " I should hardly consider your morning ride in the light 
 of a duty." 
 
 " Ah, there you make a mistake !" 
 
 " I have not encountered any of the other Consuls on my 
 way." 
 
 " Your Excellency forgets that it is I alone who am the 
 fox." 
 
 " I should have been more pleased to meet you, Monsieur 
 le Consul, if you had acquainted me beforehand of your 
 intention." 
 
 " Your Excellency was more than usually busy yesterday; 
 I myself also. I had not even time to inquire whether Your 
 Excellency had secured the persons of the murderers from 
 the bazaar." 
 
 " It is a doubtful point how far one is justified in using the 
 word 'murder' in connection with that regrettable event. 
 The men were killed in a brawl." 
 
 " It is perhaps scarcely wise to pursue that question just 
 now. Have you the murderers under lock and key ?" 
 
 " Not yet; but we shall soon." 
 
 " I doubt it." 
 
 " Indeed ? And why ?" 
 
 " Your Excellency will find it difficult. Those meetings in 
 the mosques have not been held for nothing." 
 
 Halim Pasha was silent. After some minutes he spoke again. 
 
 " Your colleague, Monsieur Farringham, called upon me 
 yesterday. There were also one or two other matters . . . alto- 
 gether, we have a good deal of things to talk over together, 
 Monsieur Karatayef." 
 
 " Perfectly true, Excellency. I am at your service at any 
 time." 
 
 " Unfortunately, my military duties prevent my entering 
 upon any discussion of matters political at the moment ; but 
 some time during the day, perhaps, in Stradovo ..."
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 231 
 
 " With pleasure. At any time convenient to Your Ex- 
 cellency. I hope soon to relieve you of any inconvenience 
 which my present visit of inspection may cause you." 
 
 " I must confess I fail to understand what brings you here 
 at all." 
 
 " I am anxious to see what precautions Your Excellency 
 is taking for my defence." 
 
 " I have no objection to your paying a visit to the 
 lines . . ." 
 
 The Russian Consul smiled. " Much obliged, I am sure." 
 
 " I will arrange for an escort to show you over the position. 
 It has been considerably strengthened since yesterday. I 
 must earnestly request you, however, to retire before the 
 commencement of hostilities." 
 
 " Your Excellency may rely upon my discretion. Being 
 a non-combatant, I have no wish to be involved in the active 
 operations." 
 
 The party were now approaching the centre of the Turkish 
 position. Halim Pasha called up one of his aides-de-camp 
 and gave him an order. The officer galloped off, and the 
 General proceeded to expound his plan of operations to 
 Karatayef. The Albanians were not more than three thou- 
 sand strong, and had no artillery. In case of an attack, the 
 advanced guard of the Turks would retire, and endeavour to 
 draw the enemy after them down the valley of the Badiska 
 to a spot where the sides closed in. The hills here were occu- 
 pied on either side by Turkish infantry, in excellent cover, in 
 addition to which the entrance and exit to the pass could be 
 swept by the guns already placed in position. Once the 
 Albanians could be drawn into the trap, their position would 
 be hopeless, and negotiations could be commenced. 
 
 " You will understand, Monsieur le Consul, that every en- 
 deavour must be made to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. The 
 Albanians are faithful Mussulmans, and subjects of his 
 Imperial Majesty the Sultan. They have allowed themselves 
 to be misled. But they are, after all, our brothers." 
 
 " I am sorry for the Servian villages these brothers of yours 
 encounter on their way." 
 
 " Revolt is always revolt, Monsieur le Consul. Even in 
 your own Russia, civil war has often demanded the sacrifice of 
 innocent blood."
 
 232 KATYA 
 
 It was Karatayef s turn to be silent. A moment after, 
 Halim Pasha went on : 
 
 " I have given orders that we are to be received in silence. 
 I regret that I am unable, under the circumstances, to show 
 you the honours due to your uniform and the country you 
 represent. But you will understand my position. I must 
 also request you to keep as much in the background as possible, 
 and, above all, not to expose yourself to the view of the 
 enemy's advanced posts." 
 
 " I understand, and agree with Your Excellency entirely." 
 
 " We, on our part," went on Halim Pasha with decision, 
 " shall not fire a shot until we are actually attacked. And 
 even then we shall spare them as much as possible. And 
 now I think you understand the situation. I have nothing 
 more to say. One of my aides-de-camp will conduct you 
 round the lines. I hope to see you later in Stradovo. Good- 
 morning !" 
 
 The General raised his hand in salute, and rode off, followed 
 by his staff. 
 
 A moment later a young officer came up and saluted. 
 Karatayef dismounted. 
 
 " If you wish it, sir, I will tell off a couple of men to hold 
 the horses, so that your kavasses can accompany you." 
 
 " Thanks, my man Ibrahim will look to the horses. 
 Yussuf, you will come with me. I am safe enough," he 
 added with a smile, " among my defenders." 
 
 They started on their round, commencing from the hills 
 on the right bank of the Badiska, the young officer explaining 
 the disposition of the defences, with the numbers of the 
 batteries and battalions. Below them in the valley Niki 
 caught sight of Halim Pasha and his staff, stopping to talk 
 to the troops. As the party neared the western approach 
 to the pass, the guide requested Karatayef to move with 
 caution. 
 
 " The Albanians must come this way if they come at all. 
 Our advanced guard is down there, a hundred yards distant ; 
 we must take care not to be seen ourselves. I should be glad 
 if you would tell your kavass to keep below the skyline. 
 His uniform makes him a conspicuous figure in the sun- 
 light." 
 
 Karatayef did as requested. " We might go down here
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 233 
 
 and wade across. Those hills on the other side of the river 
 must be quite close to the Albanians' advanced posts." 
 
 " They are just beyond. I am at your service." 
 
 They clambered down through lines and groups of Turkish 
 infantry that lay scattered about the slope. Officers and 
 men saluted in silence. Here and there the freshly turned 
 up earth marked the spot where a gun had recently been 
 placed in position. They crossed the river without difficulty, 
 stepping from one to another of the great stones that filled 
 its bed. 
 
 " It is heavy going up the hill-side," said the officer, when 
 they had reached the opposite bank. " If you would care 
 to rest a moment. . . . We had a difficult job to get the guns 
 up last night. And there's nothing to see but what you have 
 already seen." 
 
 " Thanks. I'm not tired. It's not far to the top." 
 
 They began the ascent in silence. Here and there the 
 Turkish soldiers shouldered arms, saluting the Russian Consul 
 as he passed. As he came farther up the hill, the troops 
 became fewer. Above him, at the summit of the slope, the 
 men lay in extended order, a single line, facing towards the 
 west, anxiously watching for the slightest movement below. 
 The silence was intense. 
 
 " I will go up, I think, and have a look round from the 
 top." 
 
 " It would be safer not, sir. To show oneself would be 
 dangerous, and crawling on all fours ..." 
 
 " Will scarcely do me any harm." Karatayef handed his 
 whip to Yussuf, and going down on hands and knees, crawled 
 up to a little hillock at the top of the slope, where a single 
 soldier lay. As he reached it, the man turned his head, and 
 looked Karatayef in the face. 
 
 " Patrol No. 9, Abbas," murmured the Consul to himself, 
 as one recollecting something. 
 
 Neither spoke. Karatayef stared out over the ground, 
 where the Albanian outposts lay hidden. No sign of any 
 living creature was to be seen. Cautiously turning, he crept 
 back to where his companions stood. 
 
 " We can go back this way, I suppose ?" 
 
 " As you wish, sir." 
 
 The party moved forward, Karatayef leading, the officer
 
 234 KATYA 
 
 a little behind and somewhat lower down the slope, and 
 Yussuf in the rear, slashing at the grass with his master's whip. 
 
 Suddenly a shot crashed out, echoing like thunder among 
 the hills. Nikolai Karatayef fell forward on his face, his 
 body rolled helplessly down the slope until it was checked 
 and held by a patch of scrub. A broken line of blood behind 
 marked its way. 
 
 Yussuf gave a wild cry, and dashed up the slope. Tearing 
 his revolver from his belt, he fired all six chambers at a soldier 
 who was running swiftly down towards the Albanian lines. 
 The man stumbled and fell. Yussuf sprang down and flung 
 himself like a wild beast upon his wounded prey. 
 
 The silent heights enclosing the valley woke suddenly to 
 life. Armed men sprang up from cover on every side. The 
 inner slopes were thickly sown with fez-crowned heads. 
 
 A rattle of musketry broke out somewhere to the west, and 
 shouts rang out, heard clearly in the still air of the morning. 
 " El Padishah ! Death to the enemies of the Khalif !" 
 
 A sharp word of command was passed round the lines, and 
 silence followed ; the thousands that had risen suddenly from 
 the earth vanished as swiftly, as though swallowed up. The 
 noise of firing came nearer. 
 
 Halim Pasha came hurrying up, all breathless, to the spot 
 where the young officer knelt, supporting the blood-splashed 
 head of Nikolai Karatayef in his arm. 
 
 " Is he dead ?" 
 
 The officer nodded without looking up. 
 
 A gold-embroidered figure came down the slope, hauling 
 something behind him. It was Yussuf, dragging with him 
 the wounded Abbas, whose face and hands were covered with 
 blood. At sight of his master, the kavass flung down his 
 burden, and cast himself on the ground beside the body, 
 sobbing like a wounded thing, and covering the paling hands 
 with kisses. 
 
 " Water !" commanded Halim Pasha. " Where is the 
 ambulance ?" 
 
 He strode up to the spot where Abbas lay in his blood, 
 surrounded by a silent group of soldiers. 
 
 " Who are you ?" asked the General. 
 
 " A witness to Allah, Effendim. Abbas, son of Hussein." 
 
 " You shot the Russian Consul ?"
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 235 
 
 " He struck me yesterday with his whip, Effendim/' 
 
 " Do you know that you will be hanged, if you live long 
 enough ?" 
 
 " I know it, Effendim. I am ready for the judgment of 
 Allah." 
 
 Some soldiers came up, bringing water. A doctor and 
 some ambulance orderlies appeared. 
 
 " Shot through the brain, from behind," said the doctor, 
 after a brief examination. " Death instantaneous." 
 
 " And this man ?" 
 
 The doctor turned to the wounded man, feeling with swift 
 fingers. " Three slight wounds, and one more serious here 
 in the back, above the hip." 
 
 " Let everything possible be done to keep him alive. His 
 declaration may be of vital importance to us all perhaps to 
 the whole country." 
 
 The General gave a series of orders to his aides, who 
 scattered in all directions. 
 
 " Can the man be questioned now ?" 
 
 " I should not recommend it," answered the doctor. 
 
 " Can he bear to be carried into Stradovo ?" 
 
 "In an hour or two, I hope." 
 
 " Let it be done as soon as safely possible. Let me repeat, 
 gentlemen, this man's life is valuable. Consul Karatayef's 
 body will be placed on a bier and carried into the Russian 
 Consulate, with an escort of a hundred men. I will ride on 
 in advance." 
 
 Halim Pasha turned and went down the slope. As he 
 mounted his horse, the officer in command of the position 
 came up and saluted. 
 
 " I am going into Stradovo, to the Russian Consulate," 
 said the General, " and shall probably not return. Send out 
 a messenger to the Albanians, and tell them what has 
 happened. If they still persist in attacking, you will conduct 
 the operations as arranged, and hold them shut up here. 
 But do all you can to bring them to reason. What all their 
 thousands never could have done has been accomplished by 
 a single man." 
 
 " I will carry out your orders to the letter, Effendim." 
 
 " Keep me advised from hour to hour. Two Empires are 
 watching the events in Stradovo to-day."
 
 236 KATYA 
 
 The General rode away. From the west came the rattle 
 of musketry, and shouts of "El Padishah ! Death to the 
 enemies of the Khalif !" 
 
 The roads that led from the district about Mukovo to the 
 town were necked and dotted everywhere with little groups 
 of fugitives coming in from Servian villages now in the hands 
 of the Albanians. Men and women carried bundles contain- 
 ing the little they had been able to save of household goods; 
 many bore children in their arms, or lent a supporting shoulder 
 to such as were too ill or weak to walk alone. Others drove 
 flocks of sheep and goats. The sound of firing made them 
 increase their pace. The narrow hill roads were in places 
 crowded with the hurrying, frightened peasants. 
 
 A Turkish orderly pushed his horse through a group that 
 blocked the path along the bank of the Badiska. Now and 
 again one or another called to him to ask if the Albanians 
 were advancing. He did not answer, but urged on his foam- 
 flecked beast with whip and spur. Reaching the town, he 
 galloped in, passing the Russian Consulate, where the flag 
 was already hoisted. A few moments later he dismounted 
 at the headquarters of the Turkish administration, and was 
 at once conducted to Sayyid Bey, to whom he communicated 
 Halim Pasha's orders. A guard of honour, with flag, to be 
 posted on the quay outside the Russian Consulate guards 
 to be placed at all the other Consulates ; all meetings and groups 
 of townsfolk, whether Mohammedan or Christian, to be 
 instantly dispersed ; telegrams to be sent to the Government 
 in Constantinople reporting the unfortunate death of Consul 
 Karatayef ; also to the Inspector-General of European vilayets, 
 Hassan Fehmi Pasha. 
 
 Katya was still in bed when Jeannette knocked at her door 
 and anxiously requested to speak with her. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" 
 
 " There is a crowd of peasants outside the gate, asking to 
 be let in. They say madame told them to come. The kavass 
 doesn't know what to do with them." 
 
 " Has the Consul not returned ? It must be nearly eight 
 o'clock." 
 
 " No, madame, not yet." 
 
 " Very well, I will get up. No, stay and help me dress."
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 237 
 
 " But about the peasants, madame; what am I to say to 
 the kavass ?" 
 
 " Really, I don't know what to say. How many are 
 there ?" 
 
 " Several hundred." 
 
 " And what do they want ?" 
 
 " I do not know, madame ; I cannot understand what- they 
 say." 
 
 "Tell them to wait quietly for a moment. Be quick! I 
 must go down myself and see what they want." 
 
 When Jeannette returned a minute or two later, it was 
 with the further news that Turkish troops were lining up in 
 the street outside, and were about to drive the peasants 
 away. 
 
 Katya threw on a morning wrap of white woollen stuff, and 
 let Jeannette do her hair in hasty fashion. Then, hurrying 
 down, she went through the garden to the fortress-like gate, 
 and ordered the kavass to open. 
 
 " What does all this mean ?" 
 
 A word of command rang out as she appeared. The 
 Turkish troops presented arms. The Servian fugitives 
 greeted her with the salutation which their ancestors had 
 given to the ancient Princes of her race: " Slava, kneginya. 
 Slava I" 
 
 An old man stepped forward. It was the Muktar of that 
 same village which she had visited with Farringham the day 
 before. Halting a little distance from her, he bowed deeply, 
 and said in a tremulous voice: " Princess, we are here, your 
 children, being hunted from our homes." 
 
 Katya covered her eyes a moment with her hand, as though 
 seeking to shut out the sight of this miserable ragged flock 
 that came to her for shelter and protection. The hour was 
 come when reckoning must be made, rash promises redeemed, 
 and proud words weighed to prove their worth. As she had 
 stood alone under the flowering acacias by the Sea of Pain, 
 so also here, beneath the flag that was her country alone 
 with the responsibility of decision. And in her heart she 
 called despairingly for Niki, her own strong Niki, to come 
 and aid. 
 
 The Turkish officer inquired respectfully if he should dis- 
 perse the crowd. Hundreds of piteously beseeching eyes
 
 238 KATYA 
 
 looked ceaselessly at the Princess. The little children were 
 whimpering with weariness and fear. 
 
 " No," said Katya firmly, drawing herself up. " I do not 
 know what the Russian Consul will decide when he returns; 
 meantime, let as many of these people as can find room here 
 enter with their belongings. The rest must seek the other 
 Consulates. I leave it to you, sir, to escort the remaining 
 fugitives in safety through the town." 
 
 As soon as the peasants had understood what their Princess 
 had decreed, they pressed in towards the gate, and in a few 
 minutes some two hundred souls had passed through. The 
 kavass closed the heavy gate with a clang. 
 
 The fugitives disposed themselves on either side the house, 
 in the yard and on the lawns, seeking especially the shelter 
 of the outer walls, where they began to unpack their belong- 
 ings. Katya gave orders for milk and bread to be fetched, 
 glasses and cups to be distributed. Tea and hot water were 
 to be ready in the kitchen for all who asked. 
 
 The two children were sent for, with their governess and 
 the Russian tutor. 
 
 " We can dispense with lessons for the present. There is 
 much to do, and all must help. I will have no idle hands 
 about the house to-day." 
 
 There was a sound of hoofs outside on the quay, followed 
 by a knocking at the outer gate. 
 
 " Niki I Hurrah, there's papa come back again !" 
 
 The kavass opened the gate. Halim Pasha rode in, followed 
 by an aide-de-camp. A sudden silence fell upon the place. 
 The fugitives looked with anxious eyes from the General to 
 the Princess. 
 
 " Madame," said the General, bowing with the Oriental 
 salutation, " a most painful duty compels me to seek you 
 at this hour." 
 
 " I am not the Russian Consul, Your Excellency. As soon 
 as my husband returns from his ride, he will be ready to 
 receive you, and give you any information in his power." 
 She looked about her. The eyes of the peasants were fixed 
 upon her in anxiety and admiration. 
 
 " The object of my visit is of such a nature that it is impos- 
 sible to speak of it here. If madame will permit me . . ." 
 
 " I can scarcely imagine that Your Excellency can have
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 239 
 
 anything to say to me which cannot wait my husband's 
 return." 
 
 " Madame " the General's voice was low and earnest. 
 Anna Nikolaievna began to cry. " Madame, the news which 
 it is my heavy duty . . ." 
 
 " Niki !" The word broke like a shriek from Katya's lips. 
 " My husband ?" 
 
 The General bowed his head. " Yes, madame, your 
 husband." 
 
 " Come," said Katya briefly. 
 
 But the child caught Halim Pasha by his coat and 
 clamoured wildly: " My father, is he dead ? Tell me, is my 
 father dead ?" 
 
 " Little child !" The General laid one hand upon her 
 head. 
 
 Katya turned towards him, her eyes burning, her face 
 ghastly pale. " Is it true ?" 
 
 The General bowed. 
 
 Sergei had heard his sister's cry, and came running up to 
 his mother. He caught her dress and pulled at it as though 
 to hide himself, sobbing violently the while. 
 
 Katya took her children by the hand. Drawing herself 
 up, she bade Halim Pasha follow her into the house. The 
 peasants moved aside to let her pass, looking at her with fear 
 and sorrow in their eyes. 
 
 Within, in the Servian room, Halim Pasha related what 
 had happened. Sergei sobbed and cried continually; little 
 Anna sat in a chair with her head in her hands, listening in 
 silence. Katya stood stiffly upright before the General. Her 
 great hot eyes never left his face. 
 
 " And the murderer ?" she asked, when Halim Pasha 
 paused. 
 
 " His name is Abbas. He was still living when I left the 
 lines." 
 
 " What motive does he give ?" 
 
 " It appears that there was some trouble yesterday in the 
 streets, and the Consul, in the excitement of the moment, 
 struck him with his whip." 
 
 " Your Excellency is misinformed. It was Abbas who first 
 laid hand upon the Russian Consul. My husband related 
 the whole affair at dinner yesterday evening."
 
 240 KATYA 
 
 " I do not doubt that it is as you say. Abbas was too 
 weak from his wounds to permit of any cross-examination at 
 the time. His punishment is sure. And whatever com- 
 pensation it is possible to offer for the misdeed will be made. 
 I have already informed the Imperial Government and 
 Hassan Fehmi Pasha of what has happened, and await my 
 instructions. Permit me, for my own part, to assure you 
 that this most painful accident cuts me to the heart. Russia 
 has lost a faithful servant, your children a loving father, 
 yourself ..." 
 
 " I thank Your Excellency. What is done is done; no 
 words can alter it. You will permit me to retire." 
 
 The General bowed deeply, and left the room. 
 
 Katya walked to the window, and leaned her forehead 
 against the glass. Here Niki had stood the evening before 
 and seen his murderers march past. Here he had paced up 
 and down, telling of the dangers that threatened. " And in 
 the face of all this, you choose to take Farringham's arm, and 
 leave me . . ." 
 
 Alone I A cruel word worse than all else that he had 
 said. She felt it now that it was she who stood alone, for- 
 saken by the single soul that loved her, the only man who 
 could make a home to shelter her. There was no one now 
 in all the world with whom she dared grow old. " Too late, 
 it is too late, poor Katya ..." 
 
 With an effort she recalled herself to the present. 
 
 " Sergei and Anna, go into the garden and pick every flower 
 there is. And we will strew them on the passage to this room, 
 where your father will lie till we can take him back to 
 Russia." 
 
 " Mama," said Anna softly, " I want so to write to grand- 
 papa." 
 
 " Later, my child, not now. We must send telegrams to 
 many others besides your grandfather. Do as I say." 
 
 As soon as she was alone, Katya cleared a place in the 
 centre of the room, arranging the furniture close up to the 
 walls. Moving a chair, she came upon a riding-whip that 
 lay on the carpet. The sight of the vicious toy gave her a 
 shock. The blood rushed to her head, the room swam before 
 her eyes. " You have borne children, but you are barren, 
 Katya, and your heart is little and poor," She leaned against
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 241 
 
 the wall, feeling as though her head's weight were too heavy 
 to bear. At last she pulled herself together, clenching her 
 hands till the knuckles showed white, and went about her 
 work. 
 
 There came a knock at the door. It was the kavass, red- 
 eyed and trembling still. Tears all of them had tears, save 
 only she. 
 
 " The escort, Your Highness the escort is coming, with 
 with ..." 
 
 Katya went out into the sunlight. The ragged fugitives 
 could see that her face was whiter than the white of her dress, 
 and her eyes burned as in fever. To herself it seemed as 
 though all time had ceased, and all about her was vague and 
 without meaning. 
 
 The children came up, laden with their flowers, and com- 
 menced to strew them on the path that led from the stair 
 down to the open gate. 
 
 The guard of honour presented arms and lowered their 
 colours as the escort approached. 
 
 Slowly the soldiers, carrying the bier shoulder high, moved 
 through the gateway, Yussuf and Ibrahim following. 
 
 Katya took the two children by the hand and bade the 
 soldiers lay down their burden. The kavasses stepped for- 
 ward in their places, and bore the body of their master through 
 the crowd of peasants along the flower-strewn path, into the 
 room where Katya the night before had prayed her husband 
 for forgiveness. 
 
 As the kavasses were about to retire, Katya went up to 
 Yussuf and held out a hand. Sobbing, he bent to raise it to 
 his lips, but Katya drew him up and kissed her husband's 
 faithful servant on the forehead. Little Anna Nikolaievna 
 threw her arms about his neck and whispered : " God repay 
 you, dear, dear Yussuf !" 
 
 Katya knelt down with her children beside the bier, and 
 lifted with trembling hands the cloth that covered the face 
 of the corpse. 
 
 Sergei gave a shriek and hid himself, still wailing, in a 
 corner; Anna Nikolaievna slipped quietly to the floor and 
 lay as dead. But Katya let her hand rest long upon the cold, 
 white forehead, and smoothed the hair, as far as was possible, 
 beneath the bandage that hid the wound behind. Then, 
 
 16
 
 242 KATYA 
 
 bending down, she kissed the two closed eyes, as he that lay 
 there had kissed hers the night before. She laid her head 
 upon his breast where no heart beat, and whispered: " Niki, 
 you loved me let me feel that you forgive." 
 
 Then she rose, and making the sign of the cross, replaced the 
 covering, and folded the dead man's hands below his breast. 
 
 Anna had come to herself again, and kneeling down, 
 begged to see her father's face once more. Katya lifted the 
 cloth again, and the child kissed the dead lips, but started 
 back at the cold of the touch. She was trembling all over, 
 and made no protest or resistance as Katya led her away. 
 
 The sun was shining through the window into the room 
 with its Servian peasant work, where the Russian Consul 
 in the City of Suffering lay dead. Outside on the quay, beside 
 the river that flows down from Mukovo hills, Turkish soldiers 
 kept the last watch over the body of him whom one of their 
 own had murdered. And within, under the shelter of the 
 walls, the fugitives wept for the death of the Eagle whose 
 broad spread wings had given them comfort and protection. 
 
 The news was carried rapidly from house to house through- 
 out the town. The elders of the Mohammedan community 
 hastened to Halim Pasha to ask what penalty would be 
 exacted. . . . The Bulgarians kept to their houses, ashamed, 
 in face of the fact, to reflect that they also had sought this 
 man's life. Greek and Jewish merchants regretted bitterly 
 the loss which they would suffer when the Princess was no 
 longer among them. And the Servians flocked to their 
 churches to pray for the soul which God had called unto 
 Himself. 
 
 The old Greek Bishop, accompanied by four priests, 
 attended at the Consulate to celebrate the last rites over the 
 body, which was laid in its coffin dressed in full uniform. 
 
 Out in the valley by Mukovo the firing had ceased. The 
 Albanians withdrew sullenly to their hills on learning that 
 the Russian Consul had fallen by the hand of a Mussulman. 
 
 The little ladies of Halim Pasha's harem trembled for the 
 fate of their lord, and waited in strained anxiety to hear 
 what it might please or behove the Council of the Khalif, 
 under pressure from the Russian Government, to decree. 
 
 The other Consulates hoisted their flags at half-mast.
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 243 
 
 Henri de Beaufort, as representative of the nearest allied 
 Power, took over the management of Russian Consular affairs 
 in Stradovo pending the arrival of an Acting-Consul from 
 Salonika or Constantinople. Ritter v. Eichwald whispered 
 confidentially to his wife that he was not surprised. He was 
 most sorry for Halim Pasha which did not prevent him, 
 however, from paying the customary visit of condolence, in 
 common with his colleagues of Italy, Greece, Servia, and 
 Roumania, and laying flowers upon Niki's coffin. 
 
 Farringham excused himself on the ground of illness. Later 
 a letter was brought to Katya from the British Consulate. 
 
 Meanwhile the news was spreading farther afield. The 
 Grand Vizier and one of the highest dignitaries of the Court 
 arrived simultaneously at the Russian Embassy in Con- 
 stantinople, where Korenof received them in grief and anger. 
 Shortly after these visits had taken place in the Grande Rue 
 de Pera, a rumour originating no one knew where arose 
 in the bazaar at Stambul, to the effect that the Russian Black 
 Sea fleet had been ordered to sea, and that three some said 
 five, or even six army corps were being mobilized. 
 
 Vasili Miliukin waited on the Tsar at Peterhof during 
 the morning, and was later called to the presence of the 
 Empress Maria Feodorovna at Gatschina. The Turkish 
 Ambassador was kept waiting at the Ministry for nearly 
 two hours. 
 
 The Russian Consul in Stradovo had been murdered 
 murdered by a Turkish soldier, within the Turkish lines, 
 although in uniform and accompanied by a Turkish officer. 
 The information was communicated by the official agency 
 in St. Petersburg to the Russian and foreign press, couched 
 in the clearest terms, which left no doubt but that Russia 
 would have recourse to the severest measures if its demands 
 for compensation were not immediately complied with. 
 
 The news reached Princess Rilinski at Priluka; General 
 Karatayef and Sony a Dolgoruki heard it in Odessa; it came 
 to Petya Orloff at Sevastopol and to Vladimir Shipagin at 
 Patkanovo. It spread throughout the Slav lands of Europe, 
 and across the boundaries of continents. 
 
 The staff of the Consulate had requested Katya to be 
 present while the official papers were temporarily arranged
 
 244 KATYA 
 
 and disposed of. As soon as she had dressed, she went down 
 to the Chancellery. Her black dress increased the pallor 
 of her hands and face ; she moved as in a dream ; yet no one 
 had ever seen her bearing so majestically dignified as on that 
 day. Henri de Beaufort, the only one of Niki's colleagues 
 whom she received in person, bowed with respectful ad- 
 miration. 
 
 " Karatayefs secretary has brought me something which 
 he declares is the draft of an official report," he said. " I 
 am at present unable to say what bearing the document may 
 have upon the situation. But if you feel yourself equal to 
 the task, madame, I would beg you to look through it. When 
 I received the visits of my colleagues on your behalf, I 
 gathered, from some words von Eichwald let fall, that the 
 story of the affair with Abbas yesterday is already being 
 circulated by the Turks in a highly coloured form. This 
 report might possibly be of value to your Ambassador in 
 Constantinople, and in such case I would suggest that it should 
 be telegraphed immediately to the Embassy. I beg you to 
 forgive me, madame, for troubling you with matters of 
 business at such a time." 
 
 " I thank you you are perfectly right. Nothing must 
 be left undone which might serve to protect the memory of 
 my husband." 
 
 Katya sat down at the table and began to read the report 
 which Nikolai Karatayef had penned there the evening before. 
 
 " This is most important," she said, after reading a few 
 lines. " It is a detailed description of the events of yesterday. 
 I will translate it for you. We must have it sent off at once 
 in cipher." 
 
 Katya commenced to read. De Beaufort settled himself in 
 his chair. 
 
 ' ... At the same time, however, I received from private 
 sources a notification of the fact that the Mohammedans were 
 holding meetings in their mosques, while the remaining 
 population was confined behind closed doors. The town 
 being thus practically at the mercy of the Mohammedans, 
 I decided ..." 
 
 Katya read one more sheet and yet another of Niki's firm, 
 clear writing, and then 
 
 " . * . At the same moment I caught sight of . . ."
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 245 
 
 She stopped, and sat staring at the paper. " It seems to 
 end here," she said at last, speaking very slowly. " The rest 
 is ... erased." 
 
 " Let us begin to code the first sheets. Try to find out, if 
 you can, what opinion the Consul had intended to express 
 as to the remainder." 
 
 De Beaufort went out into the office and began to give in- 
 structions. " With all possible speed, gentlemen, if you 
 please. The document will prove of the utmost importance 
 in the negotiations now going on between the Embassy and 
 the Turkish Government. Meanwhile, we must wire express 
 to let the Ambassador know what is coming." 
 
 Katya stared and stared at the paper. Holding it up to 
 the light, she realized that two names were hidden under the 
 close, careful strokes. She pressed the paper against a 
 window-pane, and read : 
 
 " Katya and George Farringham." 
 
 She closed her eyes, as if refusing to see more. But some 
 secret power beyond herself forced her, as though under the 
 lash, to read the riddle and drink out its bitter draught. . . . 
 There was nothing more . . . nothing but lines and flourishes 
 in meaningless design. . . . And yet, here, farther on again, 
 a something hidden in the maze of twirling strokes . . . again 
 a name. ... " Katya " she read, and her heart beat fast. 
 " Katya " again. A happy flush lit her pale face, and her burn- 
 ing eyes grew soft and glad. " Katya," she read once more, and 
 it was as cooling dew upon her fevered mind. 
 
 Then only waving, curling confusion of mazy lines down 
 to the very bottom of the page. 
 
 She turned the sheet, hungering for fresh signs to feed her 
 trembling hope. 
 
 " Sonya !" The white, unsullied sheet bore but the single 
 name, bold, clear, triumphant. 
 
 Katya sank back in her chair with a cry that shattered all 
 the stillness of the place. 
 
 De Beaufort came hurrying in. " What is it ? Ah, 
 madame, you overstrain yourself !" 
 
 She stared at him as half unconscious of his meaning. Then, 
 rousing herself, she sat up. " It is nothing. There is nothing 
 more." And slowly, with trembling hands, she tore the 
 paper into many pieces.
 
 246 KATYA 
 
 " Is there more that you would wish me to see ?" she asked. 
 
 "I think not, madame. The papers which your husband 
 has locked away may be safely left until the arrival of an 
 official from Constantinople." 
 
 Katya rose, and looked over the writing-table, where 
 everything lay as Karatayef had left it the night before. Her 
 eyes fell on a scrap of paper with " N.B." in large letters in 
 one corner. She stood a moment holding it in her hand. 
 
 " My husband had not finished his report," she said at last, 
 turning to de Beaufort. " It is evident from this," she 
 held up the paper " that he intended to mention the affair 
 with Abbas. Moreover, he must have foreseen his fate. He 
 has written here in Russian, ' Patrol No. 9, Abbas. The 
 murderers.' My poor Niki, what a night it must have been ! 
 And he was alone alone !" 
 
 " I beg you to carefully preserve the note. It may be of 
 the utmost importance at the trial. I will inform the 
 Ambassador at once." 
 
 " I thank you, my friend. If you have further need of me, 
 I shall be ready." 
 
 " Madame, permit me to express my admiration. I under- 
 stand now better even than before, why the people call you 
 ' the Princess.' " 
 
 The day dragged on. Katya wandered restlessly up and 
 down in the drawing-room, filled with its memories of Priluka. 
 In the adjoining apartment, behind closed doors, lay the 
 body of her husband, covered with flowers and surrounded 
 by lighted tapers, with Yussuf and Ibrahim, drawn swords 
 in their hands, mounting guard on either side. A stream 
 of people passed through the room, paying last honours to the 
 corpse and the flag that lay across its breast. There were 
 those of the fugitive peasants who knelt by the coffin and 
 prayed aloud for the dead man's soul. Women came also, 
 wailing and weeping ; little children cried aloud in fear. 
 
 And there were telegrams a ceaseless stream. Katya 
 opened them mechanically and read them idly, without feeling, 
 even those from her nearest. Farringham's letter lay un- 
 opened on the table. The telegrams sent in the name of the 
 Tsar, and of the Empress Maria Feodorovna, demanded 
 answer. She dictated brief replies. One from the Sultan 
 she crushed and flung upon the floor, as also that from Vasili
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 247 
 
 Miliukin. Korenof's message failed to move her. There 
 was in her heart but one answer to them all. " Too late ! 
 too late I" It was true, what Kleopatra Georgievna had 
 said one day in Paris that politics were the ruin of a home. 
 How happy she and Niki might have been here in this City 
 of Suffering if Vasili Miliukin had not come into power, and 
 sold his daughter to the enemies of the Slavs. . . . Behind 
 the hand that had loosed the shot that day stood many, many 
 others, whose evil work had robbed her of her husband ere 
 she had found time to prove herself worthy of his love and 
 his forgiveness. 
 
 She opened Farringham's letter* It was brief : 
 
 " Trust me whatever happens in your life or mine." 
 
 No more. There was no need. This was her one true 
 English knight she was perhaps not all forsaken yet. 
 Perhaps she yet might dare to lift her head and hope for rest 
 and quiet peace after the merciless sorrow of this day. Per- 
 haps it was not yet too late . . . poor Katya ! 
 
 A kavass entered with yet another telegram, and the 
 further message that Halim Pasha was in the office with 
 Monsieur de Beaufort. Katya opened the telegram, and read : 
 
 " Cruiser Admiral Orloff left Sevastopol for Salonika, 
 whence Consul Karatayef s body will be carried to Odessa." 
 
 " KORENOF." 
 
 " Admiral Orloff !" Prince Sergei's old and faithful friend. 
 Petya's father ! Possibly Petya was himself on board. . . . 
 Ah, Heaven ! the happy years at home in far Ukraine ! Never 
 such years again; never make pilgrimage with Niki to the 
 shrine of their young love; never stand by his side and hear 
 him say he loved her and forgave. . . . 
 
 Another knock. " Forgive me, madame," said de Beau- 
 fort, " for again disturbing you. Halim Pasha is here. He 
 tells me that Hassan Fehmi Pasha has left Skoplie by special 
 train. He comes as Emissary Extraordinary from the Sultan. 
 Halim Pasha begs me to inquire whether you will receive 
 Hassan Fehmi this evening, or if you would prefer ..." 
 
 " Tell me, de Beaufort, honestly, is it imperative that I 
 receive him at all ? Why must I be persecuted by these 
 people ? The very sight of a Turk is hateful to me now."
 
 248 KATYA 
 
 " It would be difficult to refuse a dignitary of so high 
 standing and on such a mission. Your own Government 
 would doubtless wish you to receive him. As far as I can 
 understand, Hassan Fehmi Pasha comes with a personal 
 expression of regret from the Sultan and the Sublime Porte." 
 
 "I do not wish to hear more of Turkish regrets and 
 sympathy." 
 
 " I beg you to remember, madame, that Karatayef was 
 not only your husband, but also the representative of a great 
 Power. Russia demands of you to act as the heir to his 
 obligations." 
 
 " You are right, de Beaufort." She drew herself up. 
 " I have no right to any weakness this day. I will receive 
 Hassan Fehmi Pasha this evening, as soon as he arrives. And 
 I should be glad if you would be present." 
 
 When the Emissary Extraordinary of the Khalif arrived at 
 the little railway-station of Stradovo shortly after sunset, 
 the streets leading to the Russian Consulate were already 
 lined with soldiers bearing torches. Hassan Fehmi Pasha 
 wore a gold -embroidered uniform resplendent with jewelled 
 orders. His carriage was escorted by a troop of cavalry 
 with lances raised. 
 
 He was met at the entrance to the Consulate by the French 
 Consul, who escorted him to the drawing-room, where the 
 doors leading to the Servian room stood open. 
 
 Hassan Fehmi Pasha passed in to where the Russian Consul 
 lay in his open coffin. He bowed three times before the body, 
 touching with his right hand, according to Turkish custom, 
 his foot, his breast, lips, and forehead, and remained standing 
 in silence for some minutes by the bier. De Beaufort saw 
 the tears running down the old man's face. 
 
 He returned to the drawing-room. As Katya entered, 
 bearing the Shefakat Order on her black dress, he bowed 
 anew three times. She bent her head without speaking. 
 
 " Madame," began the emissary, his gentle voice trembling 
 with sincere emotion, " my Imperial Master has sent me to 
 convey to you the deep sorrow which he and all his subjects 
 feel at the news of the horrible deed which has robbed you 
 of a noble husband and lost your country a distinguished 
 servant. To this my duty, madame, I pray you allow me
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 249 
 
 to add my own sincerest sympathy with yourself in your great 
 loss." 
 
 He took a step forward, as though to kiss her hand. Katya 
 stepped back and put her hands behind her back. 
 
 " I thank Your Excellency," she said coldly. 
 
 The old man looked sorrowfully at her, and sighed. 
 
 " Madame," he went on, " my Imperial Master has already 
 intimated to His Majesty the Tsar his sorrow and distress at 
 this misdeed. He commands me to inform you that as far 
 as it is humanly possible to atone for the crime and avert its 
 consequences, this will be done without scruple or delay. 
 The General commanding the Imperial troops in Stradovo, 
 Halim Pasha, is dismissed and banished. . . ." 
 
 Katya made an impatient movement. De Beaufort touched 
 her arm. 
 
 "... The Mutessarif, Sayyid Bey, is superseded. All the 
 officers of the company to which the miscreant belonged will 
 be degraded from their rank. At the trial, which will take 
 place as soon as the new Russian Consul arrives at Stradovo, 
 the Advocate Imperial is instructed to demand the con- 
 demnation of the miscreant to death by hanging . . ," 
 
 " Call him by his true name murderer !" broke in Katya 
 fiercely. " The murderer the Sultan's uniformed assassin !" 
 Henri de Beaufort whispered entreatingly, " Madame !" 
 
 Hassan Fehmi Pasha met her outburst with a look of gentle 
 sympathy. " I understand," he said; " from my heart I feel 
 with you in this moment, madame. And I would beg you 
 to believe that my Imperial Master has never laid upon me 
 a heavier duty." 
 
 " Let there be no misunderstanding between us, Your 
 Excellency," said Katya proudly. " I am but little interested 
 in the punishment of Abbas and the rest. But I will not 
 endure the slightest shadow cast upon my husband's action. 
 My children and I can witness before God that we have heard 
 from his own mouth everything that passed. He acted as 
 a man of honour and a true Russian." 
 
 " God rest his soul, and aid you, madame, and your children 
 in this hour." The old man paused, and looked about him. 
 Then, drawing a deep breath, he continued, with evident 
 effort: " I have yet a further command to execute on behalf 
 of my Imperial Master. It is his wish to remove, as far as
 
 250 KATYA 
 
 lies in his power, such of your anxiety and distress as is 
 not due to the purely personal sorrow of your irreparable 
 loss . . ." 
 
 " Your Excellency means to say ? . . ." Katya brushed 
 her hair back from her pale forehead, and grasped a chair 
 for support. 
 
 " Russia will best know how to succour the widow and 
 children of her noble son. My Imperial Master has, however, 
 after consultation with the Russian Ambassador in Con- 
 stantinople, commanded me to tender you, madame, as some 
 support towards your children's future, this . . . this . . . " 
 the old man drew out a slip of paper " this cheque for 
 two hundred thousand francs, together with his most earnest 
 wishes for their welfare ..." 
 
 Katya took the cheque which Hassan Fehmi Pasha had laid 
 upon the table. Through a mist she read " Banquet Otto- 
 mane. . . . Madame E. S. Karatayef . . . deux cent mille 
 francs en or . . ." Suddenly she stepped forward towards the 
 Sultan's emissary, and spoke through clenched teeth, tremb- 
 ling all over : 
 
 " Blood money . . . blood money I ..." 
 
 The old man made a piteously deprecating gesture. Henri 
 de Beaufort stepped forward and laid an entreating hand 
 upon her arm. 
 
 " He who lies there was mine . . . mine . . . and you have 
 taken him from me . . . and he loved me ..." 
 
 Her great eyes filled with tears the first of all this bitter 
 day. 
 
 " See !" she said, still trembling. " So I answer you 
 for himself and me !" Viciously she tore the cheque across 
 and across, and flung the pieces on the floor. The two men 
 looked at her, shaken and distressed. " More yet," she went 
 on, her bosom heaving with quick breath. " Bring this, I 
 beg you, to your Imperial Master ..." 
 
 And tearing the Turkish Order from her breast, she dashed 
 it down at the emissary's feet. 
 
 " Tell him that Nikolai Karatayef 's wife will neither sell 
 her husband's blood nor bear the Order of his murderer !" 
 
 Drawing her skirts aside, she swept past the Sultan's 
 messenger and passed into the chamber of death. 
 
 The two men looked helplessly at each other. De Beaufort
 
 THE BITTER HARVEST 251 
 
 began mechanically to pick up the scattered fragments of 
 the cheque. 
 
 Hassan Fehmi Pasha shook his white head mournfully. 
 " Poor lady I" he said. " Poor, suffering thing !" 
 
 The French Consul escorted him to the gate, and he drove 
 away through the lines of torches. De Beaufort went to his 
 home, escorted by his kavasses. His thoughts were all of 
 Katya. 
 
 The gate of the Russian Consulate was closed for the night. 
 Room had been found in the house, the stables, and storage 
 sheds for the Servian fugitives' women and children. The 
 men lay, wrapped in skin coats and rugs, about the lawns 
 and close along the walls. Outside on the quay sounded the 
 heavy, regular footfall of the Turkish guard, pacing up and 
 down before the shut and silent house. 
 
 Within, in the chamber of death, Katya had flung herself 
 upon the open coffin, hiding her face close to the dead man's 
 heart. The two kavasses stood silent and motionless at 
 the head of the bier. The air was heavy with incense, and 
 the scent of flowers, and smoke of many candles. She lay 
 there long. The blood throbbed in her temples and sang in her 
 ears; her breath came hastily, brokenly; her body winced 
 and shuddered as though in physical pain. But Katya had 
 no thought of feeling for aught beyond the trouble of her 
 soul. The sharp edge of the coffin pressed itself into her arm ; 
 the harsh, rough metal of gold lace and orders crushed into 
 her forehead. She heeded nothing of it all; felt only that 
 her tears flowed now, and melted in some measure the in- 
 tolerable weight about her heart. 
 
 " Niki," she prayed in her soul, " for the sake of Heaven's 
 mercy, trust me, Niki. It is truth, truth, that I loved you 
 long before I knew, and always since. I have not been a 
 little of that I should for you. I left you alone alone ! And 
 yet I have been always yours. I know how you were better 
 far than I, strong, faithful Niki, and yet I have never been 
 false to you in my heart. Niki, my soul is full of thankfulness 
 for all you were to me. Your little Cossack, Niki, your 
 Princess, your Katya, poor, poor Katya ! Pray for me, Niki, 
 and help me, now that it is I who am alone. Watch over me, 
 and guard me, as I will guard your memory, my love, my 
 love ! . . ."
 
 252 KATYA 
 
 The lights burned faintly in the heavy air. Still as dead 
 figures, yet with dewed eyes, the two kavasses watched the 
 mourning woman, as she lay with her head near her lost 
 husband's heart, 
 
 Her tears ceased, the heavy shuddering subsided; only 
 now and then she shivered as with cold. Her breathing fell 
 to a slower, heavier rhythm; the straining of her body died 
 away, leaving her very still. Deep silence grew about the 
 bier where Katya's earliest chosen lover lay in death. 
 
 Somewhere in the dark behind the guttering tapers sounded 
 the heavy pulse-beat of a clock. 
 
 The two kavasses glanced at each other. The clock beat 
 on for some few minutes more. Again the two exchanged a 
 silent glance. 
 
 Then Yussuf laid aside his sword, and moving softly, laid 
 a hand on Katya's shoulder. She did not stir. With a 
 movement of the head he beckoned Ibrahim. Cautiously 
 they lifted her, and bore her to a divan in the room beyond. 
 
 She did not wake or move. Yussuf took down a hanging 
 from the wall, and laid it gently over her. -It was a piece of 
 weaving from Priluka: St. Vladimir and his lighted Cross.
 
 BOOK III 
 THE ADMIRAL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A NATIONAL HEROINE 
 
 THE cruiser Admiral Orloff was ploughing through the Black 
 Sea on her course towards Odessa, with the naval ensign at 
 half-mast. 
 
 It was a fine summer morning, fresh and clear, the water 
 rocking gently in a light southerly breeze. 
 
 Up on the after-deck Katya was walking to and fro with 
 the second in command, Captain Peotr Konstantinovitch 
 Orloff. They had been talking of days past. 
 
 " And now it is not only Priluka," said Petya enthusias- 
 tically, "it is all Russia every country of the Slavs. We 
 had a mail on board yesterday. You should see what the 
 papers say. Novoye Vremya has an article with the heading 
 in Servian : ' Slava, Kneginya, Slava !' and the Odessa papers 
 have copied the idea. All of them are full of your praise." 
 
 " You can lend them to me later on/' 
 
 "Two things especially everyone is talking of: the way 
 you received the Servian fugitives on the very day, and then 
 tearing up the two hundred thousand francs before the 
 Pasha's face." 
 
 " I can imagine it. Ever since we left Stradovo I have 
 heard of nothing else. I can't see anything remarkable in 
 it myself. I don't know what else I should have done." 
 
 " Well, it isn't everyone who would have acted as you did. 
 But you are still the same Katya whom we all loved and 
 worshipped at Priluka, years ago." 
 
 " You need not think, Petya, that everyone is as admiring 
 as yourself. When old Korenof came on board yesterday 
 morning, he could hardly be decently polite. And at Salonika 
 the other day, Hochstadt was all but positively rude." 
 
 253
 
 254 KATYA 
 
 " What does it matter about them ? Your children can 
 be proud of their mother. The men on board here talk of 
 you and look up to you as a saint. You will see what a 
 reception they will give you in Odessa." 
 
 " Oh, don't, Petya, don't ! Think of the mournful freight 
 we have on board !" 
 
 They paced up and down awhile in silence. At last Katya 
 spoke. " Don't you think I've grown horribly old, Petya ?" 
 
 " You cannot hide your age from me, Katya. I can 
 always reckon it out by my own. You will be thirty-six 
 this autumn. But honestly, if you ask me, I would say you 
 look twenty-five." 
 
 " How can you talk such nonsense, Petya ! It is not an 
 hour since I looked in the glass and saw how I have aged in 
 Stradovo. And it would be strange if I had not." 
 
 " For me you are as you have always been, Katya. I can 
 see no difference from the time when . . . when ..." He 
 glanced down at the deck. 
 
 " I can, if you cannot, Petya. You don't know what it 
 is to feel one's life a burden, almost a shame . . . and then to 
 be alone with it all alone." Her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Do I not ? There is nothing I better know, Katya. 
 Oh, don't !" he broke off, drawing her arm through his. 
 " Katya, you need not be alone, you know. There are enough 
 of us who care for you. There is your mother, who waits 
 for you at Priluka; you have your children and, Katya, 
 you have me, if you will. I'm not worth much, I know, 
 but all these years I've had no dearer wish than that you one 
 day might need me, so that I could row, as you said row 
 hard, and let you steer." 
 
 " Dear Petya, you are a faithful friend." She pressed his 
 arm. " Yes," she went on, half to herself, " Russians also 
 can be faithful." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! Do you really care so much, Petya, when 
 you have not seen me all these years ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear," he answered earnestly. " I love you, as I 
 have loved you since you were a little girl. If ever you feel 
 yourself alone, forsaken, as you said, and need someone 
 to ... help and ... be good to you . . . you know, send for 
 me, Katya. You will make me happy so."
 
 A NATIONAL HEROINE 255 
 
 " Petya, will you come to Priluka soon ?" 
 
 " I will come when you wish, if my service ..." He broke 
 off suddenly, and loosed his hold of her arm. " What is 
 that ? Katya, do you hear ? Someone crying ..." 
 
 " I can hear nothing. There is no one here. . . . Yes. . . ." 
 She turned half round. " Strange ! It is like . . ." 
 
 " I can't make out . . ." Petya's eyes searched the deck. 
 There seemed no hiding-place for any creature near, save 
 for the great gun that thrust its long bared neck towards 
 them. 
 
 A heap of folded tarpaulins near the railing caught his 
 eye. He went to investigate. 
 
 " Why, child," he said kindly, " what are you hiding here 
 for ? And crying ? What is the matter, little Anna ?" 
 
 Katya hurried up. " Anna, what does this mean ? How 
 long have you been here ?" 
 
 " Since breakfast, mama." 
 
 " But what a place to choose ! Why on earth ..." 
 
 " It was the only place I could find to be by myself. There 
 are so many officers and sailors everywhere. And I asked 
 an officer if I might ..." 
 
 " But what are you crying for ?" 
 
 " I can't help it, mama. My father . . ." 
 
 " Come with me, little one," said Petya gently. "You 
 can sit in my cabin. No one will disturb you there. I think 
 you will like it, too. There is a picture of your mother, and 
 I will give you some papers to read about her." 
 
 " No, thank you, I will go down to Jeannette and Sergei, 
 if I may. I can find the way by myself." 
 
 " She has your eyes, Katya," said Orloff, when the child 
 had gone. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know she's the image of Niki, I think. 
 What time should we be in, Petya ?" 
 
 " We ought to sight Odessa in an hour." 
 
 " I am afraid to see that place again. When I think of all 
 that has happened since Niki and I left Russia three years 
 ago. ... He never came home in all that time, and I myself 
 only once. Is Sonya's church finished ?" 
 
 " Yes, since the spring. It has three small blue cupolas 
 you will easily recognize it." 
 
 " I cannot understand how she and Gavril Ivanovitch ever
 
 256 KATYA 
 
 could bring themselves to build a place out there. Peressip 
 has always been for me the ugliest spot in all Odessa." 
 
 " You think so, too ?" said Orloff earnestly. 
 
 " When I think of all that papa went through on account of 
 Peressip . . . and it is nothing but a collection of slums. I 
 hope nobody knows that Novaya Ekaterinskaya is named 
 after me !" 
 
 " There are many that think so, Katya." 
 
 " But I won't have it !" She stamped her foot. " What 
 has the name of Rilinski to do with these dirty houses and the 
 common vulgar people that live in them ?" 
 
 He stood looking at her a moment in silence. " Katya," 
 he said at last, a note of almost pride in his voice, " you have 
 not changed. You are the Katya I always loved." 
 
 As soon as the Admiral Orloff had berthed, the Governor 
 of the Kherson, Prince Olenin, came on board to receive, in 
 the name of the Government, the coffin containing Consul 
 Karatayef's body, and to express the sympathy of the Tsar 
 and all his people with the widow and children in their be- 
 reavement. When he had made his official declaration, and 
 ceremoniously kissed Katya's hand, he added: "You have 
 won the admiration of high and low, Ekaterina Sergeievna; 
 you have acted like a true Slav." 
 
 General Karatayef came on board, leaning on a stick and 
 supported by Countess Dolgoruki. No sooner had Anna 
 Nikolaievna caught sight of him than she ran up and clung 
 to him, sobbing out brokenly: " Grandpapa, grandpapa 1" 
 
 " My child, my darling !" The old man was deeply moved. 
 
 A short service was held on board, the Governor-General, 
 the officers of the ship, and the family of the deceased attend- 
 ing. The coffin was then borne to land by men from the 
 Admiral Orloff. 
 
 The mole was guarded by troops. Priests walked in front 
 of the coffin, and behind it came Prince Olenin with Katya 
 on his arm, holding her little son by the hand. Then followed 
 General Karatayef with his granddaughter, and Count Gavril 
 Dolgoruki with Sonya and their children. The old General 
 stooped sadly, and walked with difficulty, his stick striking 
 on the stones for every step. Count Dolgoruki, at a sign 
 from his wife, offered the old man his arm ; the General de-
 
 A NATIONAL HEROINE 257 
 
 clined it with a weary smile, and held fast to Anna Niko- 
 laievna's hand. 
 
 The little procession had gone but a little way along the 
 quay when the mass of people broke through the insufficient 
 cordon of the military. Wild confusion followed; the sailors 
 were obliged to set the coffin down, and in a moment the 
 mourners were separated from it by a swaying, shouting 
 crowd. Prince Olenin gave angry orders, but there 
 seemed to be no one to execute them. Men and women, 
 young and old, pressed in on all sides to get a sight of Katya. 
 Some students sent up the cry, " Slava, knyaginya, slava !" 
 the Russian form of the Servian peasants' greeting and it was 
 echoed back by a thousand voices, " .Slava, knyaginya, slava !" 
 Helpless and incapable of resistance, General Karatayef 
 was thrust backwards and forwards with the mob. Anna 
 Nikolaievna clung to him, crying with fear. None knew the 
 pair, none thought of them, or of the flag-draped coffin with 
 its guard. It was Katya whom all would see and honour. 
 Young girls knelt to kiss her dress, men fought their way 
 through the press to touch her. In vain the Prince and the 
 Count endeavoured to protect her ; they were thrust aside, and 
 scornful mutterings were heard of " Austrians " and " Traitors 
 to the Slavs !" Katya had at first been genuinely frightened 
 at the violence of the crowd, but as soon as she realized that 
 their excitement was all homage to herself, she drew aside her 
 veil and thanked them with bright smiles on every hand, 
 " Slava, knyaginya, slava I" 
 
 At last the quay was cleared by the gendarmes and mounted 
 police. Horsemen were sent on ahead with orders for rein- 
 forcement of the troops lining the way, and Captain Orloff 
 hurried up with a detachment of his men to act as further 
 escort. At last the procession moved on, after almost an 
 hour's delay. 
 
 Katya resumed her veil. All the way out to the cemetery 
 flowers were flung before her, and she was greeted with deep 
 respect. Behind her walked General Karatayef and Anna 
 Nikolaievna, unheeded by the thousands that flocked about 
 the coffin in full uniform or civilian mourning. Among them 
 all there was perhaps but one besides whose thoughts were 
 near to those of the old man and the child : Sonya Dolgoruki 
 followed her earliest love to the grave.
 
 258 KATYA 
 
 With high and solemn ceremony the body of Nikolai Kara- 
 tayef was committed to the earth. And as the coffin was 
 lowered down to disappear in the cold dark where Anna 
 Dimitrievna had lain so many years, General Karatayef fell 
 on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. 
 
 Katya and her little son drove off in Prince Olenin's carriage, 
 greeted with admiring enthusiasm by an untiring crowd. 
 
 Katya and the two children stayed at the old house in the 
 Konnaya. General Karatayef had invited Count and Countess 
 Dolgoruki to dinner, with Advocate Mandelberg. As soon as 
 the meal was over, the party, with the exception of the 
 children, assembled in the study, where the General requested 
 permission to discuss matters of business. 
 
 " I suppose we must, Nikolai Feodorovitch," said Katya, 
 without enthusiasm. " But I must confess I'm horribly 
 tired. And I haven't anything to say. I know I can safely 
 rely on the dispositions of Niki's father." 
 
 " Nevertheless I should be glad if you would permit us to 
 briefly review the situation, Ekaterina Sergeievna. It will 
 also be of some importance for you in making arrangements, 
 for your future mode of life." 
 
 " Oh, my future ! Have I any future ? The only thing I 
 know or care about at present is that I am going back to 
 mama at Priluka to-morrow. Beyond that I have thought of 
 nothing nothing 1" 
 
 " But your children, Katya," interposed Sonya, " We 
 must think of them first." 
 
 " You promised that Sergei might stay with you for the 
 present, and really you don't know how grateful I am, dear, 
 both to yourself and Gavril Ivanovitch. I would gladly 
 have taken Anna with me to Priluka; she is such a quiet little 
 thing. I cannot think she would be any trouble to mama. f . ." 
 
 " Neither do I," broke in the General. " But I beg you, 
 Ekaterina Sergeievna, let me keep little Anna for a while. 
 She needs not only rest that she would find at Priluka as 
 nowhere else but also serious regular work to occupy her 
 thoughts, And that would be difficult at Priluka." 
 
 " The General is right," said Sonya. " And mama's health 
 being so poor, I hardly think you ought to go to Priluka 
 with governess and tutor whom she does not know. Anna
 
 A NATIONAL HEROINE 259 
 
 will -be more comfortable here than anywhere dse, and I 
 understood from Nikolai Feodorovitch, when we talked over 
 the matter a day or two ago, that he will invite Miss Warden 
 to stay here as soon as she returns from Stradovo with your 
 things " 
 
 " Miss Warden and Yussuf," corrected the General. 
 
 " It is exceedingly kind of you, Nikolai Feodorovitch. Niki 
 was right no one could have a better father." 
 
 <c I will see that Anna receives the best teaching it is 
 possible to give her. And staying here with me she will be 
 near her brother, besides her uncle and aunt. And you will 
 not leave us all to ourselves, Sofia Sergeievna, that I know." 
 
 " I am sure the child will be but too delighted to stay with 
 you, Nikolai Feodorovitch, if only it is not too much for you. 
 I thank you all for being so good to me and the little ones." 
 
 " Then that is settled, I will now ask Advocate Mandel- 
 berg to explain the economical position," said the General. 
 " Kindly be as brief as possible, Yakof Isakovitch, We are 
 all more or less tired." 
 
 The man of business cleared his throat, " As you know, 
 Ekaterina Sergeievna," he began, " Nikolai Nikolaievitch 
 leaves practically nothing, as the General his father did not, 
 during his son's lifetime, make over any part of his fortune to 
 the latter. As far as I am aware there is not even a will, ..." 
 
 " Nothing," put in Katya, " We searched everywhere, but 
 found nothing of the kind. Niki had often said that his 
 father would take care of me and the children if anything 
 happened." 
 
 " Perfectly right, I return, however, to my first point. 
 From your late husband, Ekaterina Sergeievna, you inherit 
 nothing. On the other hand, you retain unhampered the 
 whole of your private fortune, and the income deriving there- 
 from ; that is to say, the interest of your paternal inheritance 
 invested in Peressip, together with the rent of the houses 
 belonging to yourself in Novaya Ekaterinskaya, made over to 
 you with your consent by General Karatayef on your wedding- 
 day. In addition to this there will be your pension from the 
 State " 
 
 " Can you tell me what that is likely to be ?" 
 
 " I cannot say definitely at present. At the request of 
 General Karatayef, I have personally interviewed the proper
 
 26o KATYA 
 
 officials at St. Petersburg upon the subject, and I must say 
 my reception there surprised me. The ordinary pension is so 
 ridiculously small that under the present circumstances there 
 could be no question of allowing it to rest at that. Application 
 to the Adminstration of the Imperial Bounty would have to 
 be made by yourself in person. It would have to be supported 
 by a recommendation from the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, 
 and I regret to say that the Ministry in question does not 
 appear to be very favourably disposed towards ..." 
 
 " I know that well enough," said Katya. " From what 
 Korenof said, it seems that Russian officialdom is displeased 
 at my having torn up the two hundred thousand francs. I 
 can't help it. I couldn't have done anything else." 
 
 " There might be other causes of displeasure," put in the 
 General quietly. 
 
 " You mean my treatment of those poor Servians ? Oh, I 
 know quite well that I have again offended old Koronef there. 
 But is it not strange that those two actions which have so 
 incensed Miliukin and his subordinates are just the things 
 which the whole of the people most approve ?" 
 
 No one answered. The pause that followed was becoming 
 painful, when Mandelberg came to the rescue: 
 
 " Whether your pension from the State amounts to some 
 few thousand roubles more or less, you will at any rate enjoy 
 an income sufficient for your needs, Ekaterina Sergeievna. 
 On the other hand, it is my duty to inform you that you will 
 no longer be able to live on the same footing as hitherto. 
 There is enough to keep you and your children in a comfort- 
 able position, but considerable retrenchment will be necessary. 
 I will take the liberty of forwarding to you at Priluka a de- 
 tailed statement of your present sources of income; you will 
 then be able to make your own arrangements for the future." 
 
 " Thank you," said Katya shortly. " I do not know " 
 she glanced round at the others " if there is more business 
 to be discussed ?" 
 
 " Permit me to make a suggestion," put in the General. 
 " As far as I understand, Miss Warden is bringing your own 
 and Niki's effects to Odessa. Yussuf, my son's true servant, 
 being now in my service, will accompany her. Now you will 
 have to find a place to store these things until you decide 
 where you are going to live. .. "
 
 A NATIONAL HEROINE 261 
 
 " Oh, in Odessa, I suppose. You are all here, and there is 
 Niki's grave. ; , ." 
 
 " I had thought so. In that case, the house here is at your 
 disposal; there is room and to spare for your effects. The 
 horses, I am afraid. . . ." 
 
 " The horses Niki's and mine are to be sold in Stradovo 
 or Salonika. Mazeppa, too," she added half to herself " my 
 own Mazeppa. . . . Niki's successor will attend to that." 
 
 " Then I see nothing to prevent . . ." 
 
 " Nothing at all. I thank you, Nikolai Feodorovitch, for 
 your kindness." 
 
 " Then you leave to-morrow, Ekaterina Sergeievna ?" 
 asked Count Dolgoruki. 
 
 " Yes, mama expects me. And I am longing to be with her 
 at Priluka again." 
 
 " I am glad you are going, dear," said Sonya. " Mama 
 needs to have one of us near her now that she is alone. And 
 little Sasha will hardly be able to come this year ; he is with 
 his mother in Belgrade. I have begged mama time after 
 time to come and stay with us, but she will not leave Priluka. 
 It is the only place, she says, where there is room for her. 
 Poor mama so kind she always was to all of us 1" 
 
 Business being disposed of, Advocate Mandelberg retired, 
 followed shortly after by Sonya and her husband. A servant 
 conducted Katya to her room. 
 
 General Karatayef was left alone. 
 
 He sat there long, his bent figure crouching in a chair, with 
 hands folded in his lap. 
 
 Out in the cemetery, by Anna Dimitrievna's side, lay his and 
 her only son. They were at rest. But for him rest was not 
 yet; he must still bear the weary burden of his life farther 
 along the toilsome road, where now no star was left to guide. 
 His wife had whispered on her death-bed that God had for- 
 given them, for the sake of their great love. But she knew 
 not' what she said. " Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord "; 
 and there is no forgiveness even for the sin that is born of 
 love. 
 
 Gold he had won, and given his son the daughter of a 
 Prince to wife opened for him a way to wealth and splendour. 
 But a curse had rested on his winning; Niki his son had lived a 
 life of suffering, to die by a murderer's hand. And now, at the
 
 62 KATYA 
 
 last, brought home to burial in his native earth, there had been 
 but cold, unfeeling ceremony for him, while she who in his peril 
 and his pain had forsaken him was welcomed and acclaimed. 
 The money Russia had exacted for his children she had flung 
 away in empty arrogance, a piece of melodramatic display, 
 which had gained her the cheap favour of the unseeing mob. 
 A mourner in her husband's funeral train, she had let herself be 
 greeted as a national heroine. 
 
 The General shivered. Nothing not a kopek should she 
 ever have from him. She had not understood what Mandelberg 
 had said; indeed, she had scarcely seemed to listen. But she 
 would soon learn, and to her bitter cost, that the generous stream 
 which hitherto had flowed from the old house in the Konnaya 
 was stopped for her. If only he could take back by some 
 means what he had given in that unlucky hour ! No, let her 
 keep it; enough to give her freedom for her fluttering flight 
 from place to place, that she might in her own pursuit of 
 homage and admiration forget to call her children to her 
 again, . t , 
 
 Sonya had helped him, with her quick sympathy and 
 understanding, when he had fought, with fear at his heart, 
 for right to keep little Anna Nikolaievna, And Sergei would 
 have a mother now ; she who should have been Niki's wife 
 would be a mother to his son. Katya thought of nothing 
 but Priluka; it would be long before she came to live 
 in Odessa, But Anna should have a home her own as far 
 as it might be. When Miss Warden came from Stradovo all 
 the old things should be installed in the house, and there 
 would be more than the mahogany cabinet to hold dear 
 memories. 
 
 The grave, too, should be cared for, though Katya were 
 gone. Anna and he would guard and cherish it until the 
 time came when it might be opened at last for himself. He 
 longed for the rest and quiet of it, weary as he was long since 
 of the toilsome wandering through mire and thorns. If God 
 would call him soon, and be merciful to one who had sinned for 
 love. . . . 
 
 General Karatayef took the stick that stood by his chair, 
 and rose with difficulty to his feet. Moving carefully, he stole 
 into the white-and-gold -walled room where broidered panels 
 told the Joys and sorrows of a little girl.
 
 A NATIONAL HEROINE 263 
 
 " Is that you, grandpapa ? I heard your stick." 
 
 " Did I wake you, dear ? I'm sorry. I only came to kiss 
 you good-night/' 
 
 " I am so glad you came, grandpapa. Wttl you sit with me 
 a little ?" 
 
 " Sleep now, dear. You must be tired after all these sad 
 days." 
 
 The child lay silent for a moment, looking at nothing. 
 
 " Grandpapa," she said at last, " do you think God is really 
 there ?" 
 
 " God ? Of course He is, my child, of course. But do not 
 ask me such things now." 
 
 " I wish I could think so." 
 
 " You shall, dear, do not fear. Now that I have you with 
 me we can talk together." 
 
 " I asked Him nicely in a prayer from you and me to take 
 care of father, and next day Abbas killed him. Grandpapa, 
 why would He not hear us ?" 
 
 " I cannot say, I cannot say, my darling." He stroked her 
 hair and cheek. " I am so old old and very tired* Perhaps 
 God has forgotten me. Or it may be I have not yet been 
 punished for my sins, Child, we will pray, and hope He will 
 forgive. ..." 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 KATYA'S RESOURCES 
 
 IN the park about Priluka the trees were bare. One morning, 
 as Katya walked through the grounds down by the lake, she 
 saw there a thin film of ice among the rushes by the shore. 
 And soon the snow came thick, silent flakes in an untiring 
 fall. Mikailo housed the carriages and began to overhaul 
 the sledges. And Tatiana Feodorovna moved about the 
 empty rooms, making such changes as the winter called for. 
 
 Princess Rilinski never left her chair, save to be helped to 
 bed. Dimitri wheeled her back and forth between the bed- 
 room and the boudoir with the many eikons, the dining-room, 
 and the little suite that had been Katya's in her childhood. 
 These were the bounds of Anastasia Grigorievna's movings 
 about the place; beyond them she never came. She could
 
 264 KATYA 
 
 still pen a letter now and again to one or other of her children 
 or grandchildren, or to old friends who had remained faithful 
 as herself. But her thin, transparent fingers soon grew tired, 
 and the letters which so often had gladdened those far away 
 grew ever fewer and more brief. 
 
 " Katya dear," said the Princess one evening to her 
 daughter, " you do not know how glad I am to have you here. 
 If God will, you shall close my eyes now soon, here at Priluka. 
 No one of them all has loved the dear place as you and I. And 
 therefore I have made it yours from my death until Sasha is 
 eighteen. It is no injustice to anyone; Sonya has estates 
 enough. And little Sasha will be glad to have you when he 
 takes over his father's place. He is a good boy, my own 
 Sasha's son. Can you see how wonderfully he is like his 
 grandfather ?" 
 
 " I have seen so little of him, dear." 
 
 " Give me the big frame with all his pictures. Thank you, 
 dear. It is hard to be unable to do the least little thing 
 oneself, and it wearies me to have Dimitri or Tanya always 
 about me. See !" Anastasia Grigorievna pointed to the 
 latest portrait of her grandson " that was taken specially 
 for me in Vienna last spring, just before his fourteenth birth- 
 day. Can't you see that boy is a Rilinski ?" 
 
 " Yes and yet somehow he is different. . . . And so 
 much is changed now between his mother and me." 
 
 " All is changed, Katya dear, as we two know." The 
 Princess was silent a moment. " I tell you what it is, Katya, 
 my child," she said at last, with a smile that strove to be 
 bright, " I am growing horribly selfish. Sitting here all day 
 and keeping you about me like a nurse, as though you had 
 nothing better to do. Go and visit Sonya for a while and see 
 your own children, or stay with your father-in-law. I've 
 grown to like him more and more these last years." 
 
 " Oh no, mama, let me stay here with you." 
 
 " But, child, you see no one the doctor from Dubni and 
 myself, and not a soul beyond. Now that Vladimir Shipagin 
 has gone off to the Riviera we don't even see him. I know 
 you don't care for him, but, after ah 1 , he has been a faithful 
 friend. And I was touched at Maria Petrovna's coming, too. 
 She seems to have picked up a little since Alexander Aristido- 
 v itch died."
 
 KATYA'S RESOURCES 265 
 
 " Still, Patkanovo is a deadly place, and always will be. I 
 shall never forget that journey with papa . . . and then the 
 evening after we returned. ..." 
 
 " Nor I, dear. I can see you now, lying sobbing on the 
 sofa. . . . But don't let us talk about sad times. Patkanovo 
 is changed for the better, so they say; and no wonder, when 
 one thinks how fastidious Vladimir always is. Mikailo says 
 it is a splendid place." 
 
 " Vladimir Alexandrovitch has always been a parvenu, 
 and he will never be anything else, Niki quite lost patience 
 with him at last, with his eternal snobbery and fashionable 
 nonsense." 
 
 "Well, well, we are not likely to see him again for some 
 time. But whom can we ask ? Petya can't get leave just 
 now. And Priluka's not the sort of place one can ask people 
 to in winter. If only the weather were a little milder you 
 must be longing for a ride now that you have got your dear 
 Mazeppa again." 
 
 Katya was silent. " Englishmen are faithful," she thought. 
 When Miss Warden and Yussuf had arrived in Odessa with 
 the household goods from Stradovo, the kavass had come out 
 to Priluka bringing with him Mazeppa, and pretending not 
 to know from whom it came. But there followed a letter 
 from George Farringham, as delicately noble in tone as that 
 which he had written to her in Paris so many years before. 
 
 " No, mama, you are right. No one comes to Priluka in 
 the winter. With the exception of Petya, I know but one 
 man who would seek me here or wherever I might be in the 
 world." 
 
 " Who is it, Katya ?" 
 
 " George Farringham." 
 
 " Now, let me see ... who was it that was so kind to you 
 and helped you after all that horrible affair ? . . . but he was a 
 Frenchman . . . Beaulieu, Beaufort ... he was decorated for 
 his services, I remember. . . ," 
 
 " Papa wrote years ago asking George Farringham to 
 Priluka. I met him that winter in Paris at Miliukin's." 
 
 " I don't remember. Papa was always glad to ask any of 
 your friends, or do anything else, for all of you." 
 
 " Farringham was with us at Belgrade and Constantinople, 
 and afterwards at Stradovo. He is British Consul there."
 
 266 KATYA 
 
 " And you think he would care to come here now ? Can 
 he leave his post when he likes ? Niki never could." 
 
 " If we wrote and asked him no, not I, but you, mama 
 I think he would come." 
 
 " Is he married, Katya ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor ever has been ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And he met you in Paris when you were seventeen ?" 
 
 " Yes, mama." 
 
 Princess Rilinski stroked her daughter's hand, and looked in 
 her eyes. After a moment she said : 
 
 " Write his name on an envelope, dear, and put it on my 
 table. He understands French, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes. Thank you, mama; you are always good and 
 kind." 
 
 During the first month after the happening in Stradovo 
 Katya was overwhelmed with letters. The Armenians in 
 Trebizond sent her, by secret means, a splendid tapestry, with 
 slips of paper sewn in the corners bearing names in a writing 
 which she could not read. A Professor of History at the 
 University at Kief published a treatise on the relations of the 
 Rilinski family to the Slavs of the Balkans and Ukraine. A 
 young poet, whose name was already famous, wrote a long 
 poem to Katya with the title " Slava, kneginya, Slava !" 
 the different parts of which were fashioned in masterly imita- 
 tion of the Servian folk-songs celebrating the deeds of past 
 Rilinskis. The young Slavs of Servia sent an Address. From 
 the supporters of Panslavism in Moscow arrived a copy in 
 miniature of the wonder-working picture of the Iberian 
 Virgin, framed in gold, with a border of pearls. Many of 
 Niki's former colleagues, both Russian and foreign, sent 
 letters of condolence and appreciation. But the bulk of the 
 correspondence came from young men, and especially young 
 women, who wrote in unbounded enthusiasm, often signing 
 themselves by their Christian names, initials, or with a pseu- 
 donym such as " A Slav sister," " Daughter of an officer who 
 fell at Plevna," " Girls of Tchernigof," etc. 
 
 Katya had always enjoyed writing letters, and possessed a 
 very facile pen, whether in Russian or French. Henri de
 
 KATYA'S RESOURCES 267 
 
 Beaufort, who was a connoisseur of literature, had once said 
 that if " the Princess " ever should be forced to earn her 
 own living, she would be able to do so without difficulty by 
 translating Russian works into French. " You do not merely 
 know the language, madame," he had said, " but you have a 
 style of your own, a thing few women ever attain." Katya 
 employed her talent now. She sat for hours at her writing- 
 table, and filled many sheets bearing the princely crest in one 
 corner. The occupation served her as a substitute for the 
 needlework or domestic duties with which other women pass 
 their time. The letters that she received fed her continual 
 hunger for admiration, her need of feeling herself the object 
 of others' thoughts and feelings. And the replies she wrote 
 gave her an opportunity of observing herself in that mental 
 mirror which was so indispensable to her. They spoke only 
 of herself, giving an idealized picture of the Katya she thought 
 she ought to be, and really believed herself to be while she 
 wrote. Her sorrow was inconsolable, her despair beyond all 
 bounds. She exhausted the possibilities of language in praise 
 of Niki. Her own actions as Niki's wife and widow she wished 
 judged exclusively from a political point of view; as links in 
 a carefully planned chain of conscious development. And 
 Niki's unfortunate death became, in her reflection, the cause 
 of her own mental and bodily collapse a disintegration so 
 complete that no resurrection ever could be possible, Her 
 life was oven " You cannot imagine, dear friend," she wrote 
 to de Beaufort, " how old and ugly I have grown. There is 
 no room for me anywhere on earth save in the cemetery by 
 Niki's side." Or, as she put it in her letter of thanks to the 
 author of the " Slava " poem; " The refrain in the third part, 
 the peasants' repeated 
 
 Born a Rilinski, she suffered and strove as a Slav,' 
 
 touched me deeply. I have no dearer wish than that my 
 poor remains may soon lie silent and at peace beneath a stone 
 on which these beautiful words are graven deep." All this 
 she wrote in the little room in the right wing of Priluka, where 
 once she had blacked Petrushka's plumage and wept over the 
 cruelty of the world. Even now she shed many tears over 
 the letters they were so very sorrowful. And the mark of a
 
 268 KATYA 
 
 tear on the paper was no blemish after all. Nor was there 
 any need to hide her feelings here at Priluka, since there was 
 no one to see no one to climb the pillars to her balcony; 
 no one to knock at her door with beating heart anxious for 
 her fate. It was true, every word of all she wrote she was 
 alone and forsaken. 
 
 But as the summer went on the letters to Katya became 
 fewer. With the coming of winter quiet fell upon the troubled 
 Balkans. Nikolai Karatayef 's death and the events connected 
 with it fell into oblivion; the interest of the nation was con- 
 centrated upon the Far East, where the progress of events 
 was clearly leading to an unavoidable breach with Japan. 
 Katya was forgotten. The letters ceased. One only of them 
 all wrote to her still George Farringham in Stradovo. 
 Miliukin's policy had made no difference to him. 
 
 It was getting near Christmas when Farringham wrote in 
 reply to Princess Rilinski's invitation, which, he stated, he 
 would be delighted to accept as soon as circumstances per- 
 mitted. At the same time he wrote a long letter to Katya. 
 
 Katya had called him, and he would come. There were 
 difficulties in the way. His application for leave had been 
 met with the discouraging reply that there could be no ques- 
 tion of this before the following autumn. His uncle, the Earl, 
 had declined to strain further such influence as he possessed 
 in supporting his nephew's inexplicable whims. But Far- 
 ringham was not to be lightly checked. He formulated a sort 
 of unofficial ultimatum to the effect that failing six months' 
 leave with subsequent transference to another post he would 
 send in his resignation. Both his uncle and the Ambassador 
 did their utmost to dissuade him from such a step. Their 
 interference, however, while delaying somewhat the realization 
 of his plans, failed to weaken his resolution. Katya had 
 called him, and he would come. 
 
 Farringham's letter was a gleam of light in the winter dark. 
 And with Mazeppa his Mazeppa Katya found means to 
 pass the time most pleasantly; the sledge that brought the 
 daily post to and fro between Dubni and Priluka carried few 
 letters now from Katya's room in the right wing of the house. 
 Farringham was right him one could trust, at least. He 
 was ready to cast everything aside for her sake. But she 
 would reward him royally; she had done so already by con-
 
 KATYA'S RESOURCES 269 
 
 fessing that she longed impatiently to see him again. And 
 as she flew over the hard white fields and roads, wrapped in 
 her furs against the biting cold, there was a voice in her that 
 sang triumphantly. She was no longer alone and forsaken ; the 
 cruel, evil shadows that had haunted her were dispersed; no 
 one could say now that it was all too late. So she came home 
 from her long, solitary rides with flushed cheeks and sparkling 
 eyes, and frost all white in the waves of her hair. 
 
 " My child, you are white all over 1" exclaimed Princess 
 Rilinski, smiling happily as her daughter entered. 
 
 " That does no harm, mama. It will be gone in a 
 moment. Do you remember when I dyed Petrushka black ? 
 That colour lasted longer 1" 
 
 A month passed, however, and another, and still Farring- 
 ham had not arrived. In face of the well-meaning opposition 
 of his uncle and the Ambassador it was impossible for him to 
 leave without an open and irreparable breach with both. 
 " Were it not for the pension," he wrote, " which I can scarcely 
 afford to lose, I would throw up the whole thing, and simply 
 leave." And every word that told of his impatience found 
 echo in Katya's mind. " It is sheer brutality to keep me 
 herein this miserable place, where everything is dull and dead 
 now ' the Princess ' has gone. I have obtained certificates 
 from Servian, Greek, and Turkish doctors stating that my 
 health is already undermined, and will not stand another 
 winter here. But all to no purpose. As long as one is not a 
 walking skeleton they do not care." 
 
 At the time when these letters reached Priluka the effects 
 of Vasili Miliukin's policy were beginning to make themselves 
 apparent. The long-threatened war with Japan broke out, 
 and soon messages began to arrive from the Far East with 
 news of repeated loss and disaster. Petya Or 1 off wrote to 
 the Princess; he feared there was but little chance of his 
 coming to Priluka for the present, although he longed now 
 more than ever to see his former home again. Together with 
 a number of other officers of the Black Sea Squadron, he had 
 been ordered to take part in the equipment of the great fleet 
 that would shortly, in all probability, be sent from the Baltic 
 to the Far East. It was not yet decided whether he was to 
 go with the fleet or not. " It is not unlikely," he wrote, 
 " since they have taken me from the Admiral Orloff. I hope,
 
 270 KATYA 
 
 however, that it may not be the ease, as otherwise it may be 
 years before I see Priluka again," 
 
 " Poor, dear Petya," said the Princess with a sigh. And 
 Katya murmured sympathetically: "Yes, I am sorry: also 
 for your sake, dear." Her own thoughts were far away. 
 
 Mandelberg had written several times, earnestly advising 
 Katya to go to St. Petersburg in person in order to obtain a 
 settlement in the matter of the pension,which was still un- 
 decided. But the letters remained unanswered. Katya found 
 all these business affairs a bore. At last General Karatayef 
 himself took up the matter, and wrote to the Princess, pointing 
 out that not only Katya's own future, but a-lso that of her 
 children, were seriously concerned. 
 
 " I must admit the General is right," said the Princess to 
 her daughter, " You should go, my dear, I have managed 
 alone before, with Tanya and Dimitri ; you need have no 
 anxiety on my account. And I am feeling ever so much better 
 of late." 
 
 Katya turned away to hide a blush of genuine shame. 
 She loved her mother dearly, honestly, but her reluctance to 
 leave Priluka was now due entirely to the fact that she was 
 expecting someone else longing for him to come. Each day 
 was precious, From the first snowfall she had been ready and 
 Waiting to receive him, her friend, her faithful page, who 
 would follow and find her wherever she might be in all the 
 world, 
 
 " Very well, mama, I will go. And I will see Miliukin 
 myself if you think it is best. It need not take long. . , ." 
 
 "That is right, dear; I knew you would, I will write to 
 Kleopatra Georgievna and ask her to prepare her husband for 
 your visit. , , ," 
 
 " But I can't stay with them, mama I I have had quite 
 enough of that house." 
 
 " Do as you please, my dear." 
 
 " And, mama, if any letters or telegrams come for me 
 while I am away, will you remember to send them on at once ?" 
 
 " Certainly, dear. But you need only let Sonya and Miss 
 Warden have your address before you leave, and then the 
 children's letters can be sent to you direct^" 
 
 " Yes, yes, of course. But there might come letters or 
 things from others besides them."
 
 KATYA'S RESOURCES 271 
 
 " I will send on everything that comes, dear, never fear," 
 
 So Katya went to St. Petersburg and stayed at an hotel. 
 The first of her many visits was to Madame Miliukin. As 
 soon as she had given her name to the servant she could not 
 help asking whether Duparc had accompanied the family 
 from Paris. To her great relief she learned that no one of 
 that name belonged to the household at present. 
 
 Kleopatra Georgievna received her with the cordial kind- 
 ness of an old friend. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you again, Katya dear. I have not 
 seen you since we met at Priluka, at Sonya's wedding. And 
 all that you have gone through since then, my poor child 1 
 But, thank Heaven, you look as young and well as ever." 
 
 " Do not say that, I beg of you. I have grown old; my 
 life is ended now, . . ." 
 
 " Well, well, I can understand that you must feel it so. 
 But time, you know, is a wonderful healer. Look at Elisa- 
 veta. She loved your brother, and his death left her as 
 inconsolable as yourself. And yet her second marriage is at 
 least as happy as the first. I must say, Hohenstein is a perfect 
 husband ; you will like him, my dear. Not only is he as kind 
 to little Sasha as to his own children ; he cares even more for 
 Sasha; at any rate, so it seems, I am very fond of Hohen- 
 stein; the only thing I have against him is his profession. 
 You know, I warned you all years ago to avoid diplomacy 
 like the plague, If only you had listened to me in time 1" 
 
 " Mama hears regularly from little Sasha. I think of all 
 her grandchildren he is her favourite." 
 
 " And mine too. He is a splendid boy, and of your blood, 
 Katya a Rilinski, every inch of him. Priluka will not be 
 without an heir." 
 
 It cut Katya to the heart every time she heard anyone 
 speak of this stranger child, who year by year came nearer 
 to Priluka, and who at last would take it from her, wiping out 
 all trace of her dominion. What did he know of that white 
 palace and its splendid days long past ? He had not wit- 
 nessed, never even heard of, Katya's victorious campaigns. 
 He lived in a foreign land, far from Priluka and Ukraine and 
 all their memories. And in her heart she whispered eagerly, 
 anxiously, to Farringham to come before it was too late. 
 
 " And now you will want to talk to Vasili Pavlovitch about
 
 272 KATYA 
 
 the pension business," went on Madame Miliukin. " Your 
 mother wrote to me, and I have spoken to him about it. 
 Just tell him yourself what you want to say. I think I can 
 promise you that everything possible will be done, though 
 this wretched war is making things difficult for us all." 
 
 " I should prefer not to call on Vasili Pavlovitch at the 
 Ministry. , . ." 
 
 " Of course, my dear, I understand; and it would be little 
 good if you did; you might wait there for days without 
 getting any farther. I will send you word to let you know 
 what time best suits Vasili Pavlovitch to see you here. You 
 are still in mourning, of course, so I will not ask you to parties 
 or anything here. And you know we are never alone. I tell 
 you, my dear, except when travelling, I have not dined alone 
 with my husband for thirty years 1" 
 
 Madame Miliukin kept her promise. Katya was invited 
 to lunch, where the guests numbered not more than half a 
 score. Shortly after the conclusion of the meal Miliukin 
 retired, and a servant informed Katya that the Minister 
 awaited her in his study. 
 
 "Sic down, if you please, Ekaterina Sergei evna. The 
 Princess, your mother, has advised me of the reason for 
 your visit to St. Petersburg; my wife has also spoken to me 
 about it. I have had the matter looked into, and am now 
 in a position to inform you that the Ministry is willing to 
 support your application to the administration of the Imperial 
 Bounty for an augmentation of your pension, bringing it up 
 to a total of nine thousand roubles. One-third of the addi- 
 tional amount conceded is to be regarded as a personal annuity 
 to yourself, payable as long as you remain unmarried. The 
 remaining two-thirds are your children's, and will be paid to 
 you until your son completes his twenty-first year, when the 
 amount falling to his share will be withdrawn ; your daughter's 
 third part is payable until her marriage or the completion of 
 her twenty-first year. Your application will have to be 
 formulated in accordance with these conditions, and will be 
 sent in through the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. I will have 
 it made out in due form, so that you will only require to sign 
 your name." 
 
 " I thank you, Vasili Pavlovitch. And that is all you have 
 to say to me ?"
 
 KATYA'S RESOURCES 273 
 
 The Minister looked at her, somewhat astonished, and 
 stroked his long white beard. " Yes, that is all. I am glad 
 to have been able to do something for our dear Sasha's sister." 
 
 " Not a word of Niki, who died like a hero. . . ." 
 
 " As far as I am aware, there has been no neglect on the 
 part of the State in connection with Nikolai Nikolaievitch's 
 unfortunate death. For myself, I sent you on the same day 
 an assurance of my deepest sympathy. . . ." 
 
 " Unfortunate death ! Is that what you call it ?" 
 
 " Believe me, Ekaterina Sergeievna, I have tried to avoid 
 any word or action which could possibly wound or distress 
 you. Indeed, the opposite has been the case, as you may 
 judge from the way in which I have arranged the matter of 
 the pension. . . ." 
 
 " Will you answer me honestly, Vasili Pavlovitch what 
 have you to reproach my husband with ?" 
 
 " No, Ekaterina Sergeievna, that question I will not 
 answer. In the first place, I do not remember all the details 
 of the occurrence; it is nearly a year ago, and I have had 
 many weighty matters to occupy my mind since then. Nor 
 could I, as an old friend of your family, make any accusation 
 against your dead husband. You must forgive me if I 
 decline to answer." He rose, pushing back his chair. " If 
 I can be of any assistance to you or yours, Ekaterina Sergei- 
 evna, I shall be very happy. I have not forgotten the 
 pleasure which it was to us all to have la charmante petite 
 Rilinski with us during that year in Paris." 
 
 She sent him an angry glance: the mention of la petite 
 Rilinski aggravated her beyond the rest. With haughty 
 coolness she took her leave; Miliukin stood looking after her a 
 moment, somewhat at a loss to understand her manner. He 
 recollected vaguely that Korenof had been extremely dis- 
 pleased with both herself and her husband. . . . Then, 
 dismissing the affair from his mind, the Minister hurried 
 down to the waiting carriage, which bore him off to matters 
 of far greater moment than Ekaterina Sergeievna and her 
 troubles. 
 
 Wherever Katya went in St. Petersburg she encountered 
 the same reception as at Miliukin's. People were kind and 
 sympathetic, but their minds were full of the present war, 
 and there was little room for recollection of a year-old happen- 
 
 18
 
 274 KATYA 
 
 ing somewhere in the Balkans. At the Dolgorukis she was 
 kindly received; the old Dowager talked to her all through 
 one evening of her irreparable loss and the unsympathetic 
 world. And as she rose to leave, " Vera Nadeshda " took her 
 hi her arms, and whispered the name of a convent which 
 would always be ready to receive her, and offer comfort, 
 peace, and rest. " You are right, Vera Mikailovna," 
 answered Katya gently; " I should have sought that refuge 
 long ago." And for the moment Katya really believed she 
 meant what she said. 
 
 When she reached the hotel, however, she found a parcel 
 of letters from Priluka, including one from George Farr ing- 
 ham. His resignation had been accepted at last, and his 
 successor had arrived at Stradovo. He was leaving at once, 
 by way of Belgrade and Budapesth; in a week he would be 
 at Priluka. 
 
 " At last !" Katya hastened through the list of her re- 
 maining visits, wrote to her mother, to Mandelberg, and to 
 General Karatayef, stating that the matter of the pension 
 was now in order, and hurried home to receive the welcome 
 of the coming spring. 
 
 At Kief she made a pilgrimage to the hill of St. Vladimir, 
 where many a bird of passage on its way across Ukraine falls, 
 broken-winged, beneath the lighted cross. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A LOSING GAME 
 
 THE year of mourning was over; touches of colour appeared 
 in Katya's dress. Priluka had once more a mistress : Tatiana 
 Feodorovna could not remember any summer during the 
 reign of Prince Sergei where there had been so much to do. 
 Stephan, the cook, found it necessary to reinforce his staff 
 up to thrice its normal strength, and even so it happened now 
 and then that the Princess was not entirely satisfied with the 
 result of his efforts. This, however, astonished him not in 
 the least ; for there was still Petrushka at Priluka Petrushka, 
 aged, unnaturally green, and knowing the speech of men. 
 Mikailo toiled untiringly from morning until night; his hair
 
 A LOSING GAME 275 
 
 and beard were long since grey, but his song rang out as young 
 as ever through the park at sunset. 
 
 Sonya and her husband had arrived with their two chil- 
 dren; Miss Warden had brought Sergei and little Anna. 
 Sasha, the Prince to be, made solemn entry with a Russian 
 Governor and an Austrian valet. Vladimir Shipagin was 
 installed in his old room, and held meetings in the " Club " 
 with Gavril Ivanovitch and Farringham. Elena Dolgoruki 
 forgot somewhat her dignity, and sighed just as of old when 
 Shipagin greeted her with his blase smile and the eternal 
 " Rather tired, y'know, Elena Ivanovna." 
 
 The only absentee was Petya Orloff, who was on service 
 now in one, now in another, of the Baltic ports, with the 
 possibility ever before him of being ordered to accompany 
 the fleet to the Far East. 
 
 Nearly every morning Farringham might be seen wheeling 
 the Princess's chair about the park. During the days of 
 spring, when he and Katya had been alone at Priluka, the 
 Princess had seen but little of him ; Katya was busy showing 
 him the place, taking him for long walks and rides which kept 
 the pair absent half the day. But now, with the house full 
 of guests, she had neither time nor freedom to occupy herself 
 with him alone. He was always welcome to take part in 
 expeditions and amusements with the others, the games and 
 pastimes which she organized for her friends and the children ; 
 in particular, she desired his presence whenever the conversa- 
 tion chanced to turn upon the happenings of her own life. 
 He was her witness on such occasions; time after time she 
 would interrupt her telling, and turn to him with a " Do you 
 remember?" or craving his support in the third person: 
 " Farringham will tell you; he was there at the time." His 
 task it was also to lead, when possible, the talk upon such 
 subjects as interested her above all, the Great Day of Dis- 
 tress in Stradovo. She did not spare him. Many times in 
 the quiet spring when they had been together he had begged 
 her not ceaselessly to conjure the shadow of dead Niki to 
 stand between them; surrounded as she now was by an 
 atmosphere in which his memory was ever fresh, she could 
 not refrain. Of those about her not one but had known him 
 well; her mother, Sonya, Elena, and Vladimir Shipagin; 
 Sasha's son, and her own his own children; what wonder,
 
 276 KATYA 
 
 then, that her thoughts were continually turning upon Niki 
 Niki the hero; her own strong, splendid Niki whom a cruel 
 fate had torn from her. There were, again, moments when 
 her sorrow was inconsolable. On a portrait of Niki which she 
 gave Shipagin she wrote : " Never forget him. That is all that 
 I ask for myself." Her always variable moods rang changes 
 now more sudden and more violent than ever. One moment 
 she would be striving, in delicious civil war, to hold back tears 
 whose welling was a joy; the next might see her shouting 
 gleefully at the head of a gay flock that tore down the slope 
 of the lawn to reach the boat, and row across the lake in 
 search of mushrooms on the other side. 
 
 Princess Rilinski would have been left to herself entirely 
 had not Farringham and Sonya tacitly agreed to relieve each 
 other at her side. The morning was Farringham's watch; 
 Dimitri had so much to do in summer that he could rarely find 
 time to spare from his regular duties ; moreover, the Princess 
 showed distinctly that she found pleasure in the society of 
 her English guest. 
 
 " You have helped us through a difficult time, Mr. Farring- 
 ham," she said to him. " Both my daughter and myself are 
 deeply grateful to you; I only hope that you have not been 
 sacrificing your time. I am sorry Sergei Arkadievitch did 
 not live to see you here; he would have been as happy to 
 know you as we all are." 
 
 The Princess told Farringham much of Katya's childhood 
 and early youth ; she could not have found a more sympathetic 
 listener. She made him acquainted with the family's relation 
 to such friends and kin as were of the party, as well as the 
 absent ones, whose names he was continually hearing, until 
 at last he seemed to personally know them all Petya Orloff, 
 General Karatayef, Miliukin, and the rest. She inquired 
 also with discreet but sympathetic interest as to Farringham's 
 parents, long since dead, and the uncle who had been a father 
 to him for many years. 
 
 " We Russians know so little of England," she said. " My 
 husband and I have been in France, in Switzerland, and Italy; 
 but it never occurred to us that we ought also to see London. 
 I should be very sorry to say anything which could possibly 
 offend you, Mr. Farringham, but it does seem horrible to us 
 that your country should have ma<?e alliance with those
 
 A LOSING GAME 277 
 
 wretched heathen Japanese. Even if there had never been 
 any war between us and them, it would still seem incompre- 
 hensible to us. Katya is often hasty, and is apt to speak 
 too openly, perhaps, of Miliukin and his policy. But I must 
 admit I agree with her when she says that we ought to have 
 Europe on our side now, and not against us." 
 
 Farringham spoke freely to the Princess of his plans, and 
 sought her support. Katya had already promised to be his 
 wife; she had accepted him in the spring, but on condition 
 that the wedding should not take place until after the expira- 
 tion of her year of mourning and his own visit to England, 
 where he would have to arrange matters with his uncle. 
 Farringham wished the engagement to be declared at once, 
 so that his relation to her might be clear to the remainder of 
 the family and their guests. He felt it something of a false 
 position to move among the party as a stranger, when all had 
 beyond doubt long since guessed the true state of affairs. 
 And, more, he longed openly to take possession of the woman 
 he had won. His patient affection, which he had endured so 
 long, grew with the daily intercourse to a thirsting passion, 
 and he suffered under a delay which was no longer necessary. 
 
 Katya, however, was reluctant to take any decisive step; 
 time after time she postponed and bade him wait. She had 
 given him her promise when they had been alone at Priluka, 
 and she had felt glad to do so. But now she was no longer 
 alone. The brilliant summer had surrounded her anew with 
 a court of faithful pages whom she could command, and who 
 acknowledged her supremacy. Her youth returned, and with 
 it an intoxicating feeling of freedom. The springs of power 
 and courage in herself, which had been as frozen in the winter 
 cold, welled forth again with new, triumphant life. Often, 
 as she lay alone in her room at night, the thought of her new- 
 found independence filled her with delight. Men were so slow, 
 so horribly slow. . . . Why could not George understand 
 that she felt otherwise now than she had done three months 
 ago ! He was faithful and good ; him she would have, and no 
 other. And she would keep her promise to him yes only 
 not now; later, when there was time. 
 
 Farringham suggested that he should return to England, 
 and arrange his affairs meanwhile in such a manner as would 
 enable him to offer Katya a home fitted to her habits ana her
 
 278 KATYA 
 
 taste. But she could not spare him just now. There was no 
 hurry. Much better give his uncle's immediate anger time 
 to cool. And then all these dull, practical questions bored 
 her. Was there anything so uninteresting as money ? She had 
 enough herself for both, if need should be, even if she never got 
 the stupid pension, which was not yet granted, and had to 
 provide for her children herself. Farringham's objections were 
 carelessly waved aside. Why trouble about such things ? 
 What did it matter as long as they really cared for each other ? 
 
 But when her lover pressed her to end the delay and marry 
 him while yet it was summer, she changed front, and recog- 
 nized suddenly the weight of those objections she had before 
 made light of. It was absolutely necessary that Farringham 
 should arrange his affairs first, and reinstate himself in his 
 uncle's favour; it would never do to go to the old gentleman 
 with the marriage a fait accompli ; his consent must first be 
 obtained. It would even be advisable for George to introduce 
 his future bride. There was also the question of the difference 
 of nationality and religion; there was the settlement for the 
 children who as yet knew nothing of their mother's inten- 
 tions and then there was General Karatayef; Katya was 
 not at all looking forward to that interview. In a word, 
 there were any amount of dull things that must be arranged 
 and settled beforehand, and really, George could not expect her 
 to worry about them now. Was he not glad to live here by her 
 side at beautiful Priluka ? Was he disappointed at her home, 
 herself ? Did he not find her all that he had dreamed his 
 little Cossack in her own wild land ? 
 
 " Wait until autumn, George, or winter, when you have 
 been home. I will come on after, and fascinate the stern old 
 Earl, and then we can be married in the spring, quite quietly, 
 at the little church in Dubni. Perhaps your uncle or your 
 cousin might come over what do you say ? I shall have 
 Sonya and her husband, and of course mama. And then 
 we will stay on at Priluka together as long as we can as long 
 as it is still mine." 
 
 His pleadings availed him nothing. She had decided, and 
 his continued attempts at persuasion elicited signs of some- 
 thing very like impatience. She exhibited also the same ill- 
 concealed displeasure when he entreated her not to remind 
 him ceaselessly of Niki. Nothing was more distasteful to
 
 A LOSING GAME 279 
 
 Farringham than this awakening of a memory which stood 
 between them separated them. Their disagreement upon 
 this point was intense. Katya foresaw, beyond this present 
 claim, that once she became his, he would demand of her to 
 wipe out of all recollection the sixteen years of her married 
 life with Niki, and this for her was sacrilege. Here at Priluka, 
 above all, where he one summer had won her heart and saved 
 all those she loved from ruin and bitter sorrow it was not 
 for Farringham, a stranger, to seek with masculine jealousy 
 to erase the memories that were the dearest possession of her 
 soul. Other and later impressions there were also, especially 
 from the evening before Niki's death, which were too recent 
 and too deeply graved to be obliterated by that other feeling 
 she had for Farringham a feeling which, old and proved as 
 it was, seemed yet so greatly different. Farringham was no 
 longer her faithful, chivalrous adorer, but an impatient lover. 
 She herself, however, was unchanged; she could not endure 
 to think that her promise to give him her future should rob 
 her of the right to her own past. Moreover, she saw herself 
 always as one of the principal characters in the drama which 
 bore Niki's name. How could she suddenly resign her part, 
 or play it otherwise than Nature demanded ? Men were so 
 stupid, always wanting things explained, as in big books, with 
 heavy words, as papa used to talk. . . . 
 
 Farringham, however, on his part, understood her better 
 than she imagined. He knew that it must be a sacrifice for 
 her to lay aside her position as Nikolai Karatayef's widow, 
 especially here at Priluka. But he demanded just this sacri- 
 fice, as earnest of the depth of her affection for himself. She 
 would not make it. The summer passed, and Farringham 
 felt that he was in reality no farther than he had been in 
 Stradovo. There were times when he felt inclined to leave 
 it all and go away anywhere away from this recurrent torture 
 of desire and disappointment. But Katya was always ready 
 at the critical moment with a smile, a pressure of the hand, a 
 stolen kiss, and he was reduced once more to blind obedience, 
 his longing intensified, yet blended with fear and presage of 
 ill-fortune. 
 
 Princess Rilinski sought to cheer him during their morning 
 excursions in the park. 
 
 " Tell me," she said one day, when they were out alone,
 
 280 KATYA 
 
 " what did you say your father's name was ? Ronald, was it ? 
 I wish it had been anything else, for it is so difficult to use 
 with a Russian ending, and you don't know how unnatural 
 it seems to us to use a surname when speaking to so near a 
 friend as you. It makes me feel quite uncomfortable to hear 
 you always call me ' Princess ' ; could you not just say ' Anas- 
 tasia Grigorievna,' as the others do ?" 
 
 " With pleasure Anastasia Grigorievna especially if you 
 would simply use my Christian name." 
 
 " Then I will that is to say, when we are alone or only 
 Katya is with us. We three have our little secret together; 
 I understand you both. You have waited so long, so faithful 
 you have been, and now you feel that you deserve your 
 reward. But you must not be hard on Katya. Think a 
 moment, and you will see that it is only fair to give her a 
 little time to settle down, so to speak, before commencing her 
 new life. And, believe me, it is best for yourself also that 
 she should not act hastily. We women think in another way 
 than men, and perhaps we are not so impatient. But do not 
 be afraid; she will be yours in good time. I could wish, 
 perhaps, that she had chosen a Russian, one of our own faith ; 
 but you have taught me to like and trust you, and I know 
 you will be a true husband to my child. You have at least 
 my earnest blessing. And then I have thought of something 
 else. When now you go home in the autumn to arrange your 
 affairs you poor boy ! you have sacrificed so much for Katya's 
 sake I will write myself, as Katya's mother, to Lord Farring- 
 ham, and ask him to help you in all he can. Do you not think 
 it would be right ?" 
 
 " I do not know how to thank you, Anastasia Grigorievna. 
 May Heaven bless you for your kindness !" 
 
 " Let me kiss you on the forehead, George, as we do here in 
 Russia. Now do not be unhappy any more. I will give you 
 my daughter gladly when the time comes, though she is my 
 dearest child." 
 
 One evening towards the middle of September a violent 
 storm broke over Priluka. Earth and sky were blotted out, 
 swallowed up in a raging turmoil of the elements. From the 
 windows one could see nothing but a curtain of pelting rain 
 and whirling leaves, save when the lightning rent the whole
 
 A LOSING GAME 281 
 
 across, showing the lake all thrashed to furious waves framed 
 in great firs that swayed and bent like reeds. Owls hooted 
 weirdly between the crashes of the thunder. More than one 
 great oak was shivered that wild night. 
 
 The whole house-party, including the children, were assem- 
 bled in the drawing-room. Princess Rilinski sat pale and 
 crouched together in her chair; she looked from one to the 
 other in the circle about her, gazing long at each, as though 
 seeking to fix their features in her mind, perhaps for the last 
 time. She beckoned little Sasha to her, and held his hand 
 long without speaking. Sonya sat beside her mother, watch- 
 ing her face as though she read her thoughts. Farringham, 
 Dolgoruki, and Shipagin stood by one of the windows, dis- 
 cussing the latest news from the scene of operations in Man- 
 churia; the strongly fortified position at Liao-Yang had been 
 abandoned, and Kuropatkin was in full retreat towards 
 Mukden. Elena Ivanovna had called Miss Warden and the 
 children to her at a table where stood a lighted lamp, and was 
 showing them a collection of albums and loose photographs. 
 Katya was walking up and down, deep in her own thoughts. 
 
 "' Sonya," said the Princess to her youngest daughter, " I 
 can't help thinking of our dear Petya in this awful storm. 
 Ah me 1 we were so fond of him, your father and I ; it cut 
 us to the heart when he left us as he did. . . . Forgive me, 
 dear, I did not mean to . . ." She sighed deeply. " My 
 thoughts wander so. ... Sasha dear, promise me always 
 to make Petya welcome here when Priluka is yours. He was 
 one of your father's dearest friends he and Uncle Niki. . . . 
 Promise me, Sasha." 
 
 " Yes, grandmama, indeed I will. Mama also speaks so 
 kindly always of Captain Orloff." 
 
 " I am so glad he is not going with the fleet after all," went 
 on the Princess. " And, indeed, it would have been a shame 
 to take a man of his name away from the Black Sea. But it 
 must be hard everywhere in this horrible time of war, when 
 he cannot even get leave to come here for a couple of days on 
 the way from Libau to Sevastopol. It would have done him 
 good to see that we remember him. Sonya, my child, be 
 kind to him when you see him in Odessa." 
 
 " Of course, mama, Gavril Ivanovitch and I will be only 
 too glad. . . . We are both so fond of Petya the children too."
 
 282 KATYA 
 
 Katya broke off her pacing up and down, and came up to 
 her mother. " Sonya dear," she said, " and little Sasha, you 
 mustn't mind, but I want to whisper something to mama." 
 She bent her head down to the Princess's ear. Anastasia 
 Grigorievna shook her head. " No, no, Katya, not now, not 
 to-night." Katya insisted caressingly. " I don't like it, 
 child," said the Princess. " Let them stay where they are 
 until I have closed my eyes." But Katya was deaf to all 
 resistance, and her mother acquiesced perforce at last. " Well, 
 well, as you will," she said, with a sigh. " Here is the key of 
 the cabinet. The others are in the secret drawer to the left." 
 Katya kissed her swiftly, and whispered once more: " Say 
 nothing to the others; let it be a surprise." Then, without 
 further words, she disappeared. 
 
 The storm continued, furious as ever. The windows shook 
 with the fury of the gale ; one could hear the wind tearing at 
 the creepers on the veranda. The three men lowered their 
 voices, that the women and children might not hear what they 
 said. 
 
 "It is a scandal, a disgrace 1" said Shipagin* " We are 
 shamed before the whole of Europe. The impregnable posi- 
 tion of Liao-Yang, where Kuropatkin was to finally defeat the 
 Japanese before advancing to the relief of Port Arthur ! 
 They are traitors, these Generals, with Scharfenstein and 
 the other Germans at their head. Your countrymen will be 
 pleased, M. Farringham." 
 
 " I hope not," said Farringham. " These are heavy times 
 for us all. . . ." 
 
 " All this is nothing beside what may come," put in Count 
 Dolgoruki. His voice was earnest. " I am less concerned 
 for the war and our defeat or victory there than for the effects 
 of these continual reverses here in Russia itself. As you may 
 know, M. Farringham, the political department of the 
 Kherson Administration is in my charge, as head of the Civil 
 Cabinet there. Now, a semi-Oriental town like Odessa is 
 perhaps more than usually exposed to undesirable influences, 
 and our working" population in the quarters near the harbours 
 has always had a bad name. Even so, I must say it is astound- 
 ing, the audacity with which the revolutionary party, and 
 especially the so-called " Intelligent!," pursue their policy of 
 exciting the masses, and the success which attends their efforts.
 
 A LOSING GAME 283 
 
 I was recalled last month from leave; we had three or four 
 political arrests every day. And now, after the disaster at 
 Liao-Yang, it will be worse than ever. If I could, I would 
 leave my wife and children here at Priluka ; there is no knowing 
 what may happen in a town like Odessa. But Sonyawill not stay 
 unless at her mother's own request, and Anastasia Grigorievna 
 is scarcely likely to ask her as long as she has Katya. Between 
 ourselves, gentlemen " he lowered his voice yet more " I 
 could wish that the Rilinskis had sold their holdings in 
 Peressip long since. It is a hateful slum. I have nothing to 
 say against Sonya's part as an investment the late Prince 
 and General Karatayef have acted as clever and far-seeing 
 men of business there but the whole quarter has become 
 a haunt of the worst characters; there are more arrests made 
 in the Novaya Ekaterinskaya than anywhere else. . . ." 
 
 " What is there remarkable about that street in particular ?" 
 inquired Farringham. " And what is Peressip ?" 
 
 " Novaya Ekaterinskaya is named after our Katya," 
 answered Count Dolgoruki, and proceeded to explain to 
 Farringham the history of the Rilinskis' and Karatayef's con- 
 nection with the new quarter to the west of the Local Traffic 
 Harbour in Odessa. While he was speaking, Dimitri flung 
 open the doors and announced with twinkling solemnity : 
 
 " Her Majesty the Queen of Sheba 1" 
 
 All turned to look as Katya entered the room, with Tanya 
 on her right and Dimitri on her left, bearing silver candelabra 
 with lit candles. 
 
 The children set up a long " Oh !"; little Sergei clapped his 
 hands in delight, and cried, " You lovely mama ! Uncle 
 George, see how lovely mama is !" 
 
 Katya was wearing a splendid evening dress of white silk, 
 deeply dtcolletee. On her head she bore the emerald diadem 
 of the Rilinskis, that formed a sparkling crown of green about 
 the waves of her heavy dark hair. Round her neck was a 
 wide collar of pearls; the breast and shoulders of her dress 
 were bordered with turquoises, set in rows, like blue-winged 
 beetles among dewdrops. About her waist, and slantwise 
 down the skirt, were flashing brilliants, and on the rounding 
 of her arms above the wrist rubies and emeralds threw back 
 the candles' light. 
 
 A happy smile played about her mouth; in the eyes of all
 
 284 KATYA 
 
 around her she read wonder, admiration, almost worship. 
 Farringham looked as though about to kneel. Shipagin mur- 
 mured again and again, " Wonderful wonderful !" Count 
 Dolgomki gazed at her in eloquent silence; Elena Dolgoruki 
 and Miss Warden sat with folded hands. Sonya seemed more 
 astonished than impressed. " What an idea, Katya this 
 evening, of all strange times, to choose !" Princess Rilinski 
 smiled with motherly pride as she looked at her beautiful 
 daughter; Tatiana Feodorovna wept generous tears of pure 
 delight. " An Empress, little dove a holy saint !" she mur- 
 mured, her fingers moving stealthily to touch her mistress's 
 dress and the ancestral jewels of the princely house she 
 served. 
 
 All flocked about Katya as she turned with conscious grace 
 to show her whole magnificence from every side. Her mother 
 began telling Farringham the history of the jewels; Shipagin 
 was trying to estimate their value. 
 
 " There is much more in the casket," said Katya; " only I 
 couldn't wear everything at once. There are lots and lots of 
 turquoises. Really I think it would look best with them 
 alone; they are simply lovely !" 
 
 No one had now any thought for the storm; the men had 
 forgotten their earnest conversation of a moment before. 
 The children and their elders were alike entirely occupied with 
 Katya and the family jewels. 
 
 Little Sergei had not recovered from his first impression of 
 wondering delight. " And is it all yours, mama ?" he asked 
 aloud. 
 
 "No," replied Katya, somewhat embarrassed; "all these 
 beautiful things belong to grandmama." 
 
 " But will they be yours when grandmama dies ?" 
 
 " Sergei !" Katya sent him an angry glance. There was 
 an awkward pause. 
 
 " It is only natural that he should ask," said the Princess, 
 with a gentle smile. " Come, little Sergei come here to me. 
 You are a good boy, and you are quite right to say your 
 mother is lovely so do we all." 
 
 Anna Nikolaievna, who had been watching Katya and 
 Farringham all the time, turned to her brother. " Mama 
 has borrowed the jewels from grandmama," she said in her 
 strangely grown-up way, " to make herself look nice. But
 
 A LOSING GAME 285 
 
 Sasha will have them, you know, when he is a man and all 
 Priluka too." 
 
 Katya started ; the child's words stung her. 
 
 " It is cold," she said, with a little shake of her shoulders. 
 " And this dress. ... I think I will go up and get rid of all 
 this magnificence. I only put it on to brighten you all up a 
 little this dull evening. ..." 
 
 " Oh no, mama, not yet !" cried little Sergei. " You 
 are so lovely ! I have never seen you so beautiful ! Isn't 
 she, Uncle George ?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, my boy; but when your mother feels cold . . ." 
 
 " I think mama looks better when she is riding Mazeppa 
 with M. Farringham," said Anna Nikolaievna quietly. 
 Again a pause ensued, accentuating the last words. Farring- 
 ham sought for some remark with which to break the silence, 
 but it was Elena Ivanovna who spoke first. 
 
 " Katya dear," she said in her old naively girlish way, " it 
 is so charming to hear how the children speak of you and 
 M. Farringham." 
 
 The elders looked uncomfortably at each other. Princess 
 Rilinski came hastily to the rescue. " Let Tanya go up with 
 you and help Jeannette, Katya dear. And take a shawl; it 
 is so draughty in the long corridor. The air is positively cold 
 this evening; I suppose it is the storm." 
 
 In silence Katya gathered up her train and left the room. 
 
 When the door had closed behind her, the Princess went on. 
 "It is quite true what Annie says. The jewels in the iron 
 casket belong to that Prince Rilinski who owns Priluka. 
 When Elisaveta married again she gave me back all the old 
 ornaments which my husband and Sasha had given her. But 
 I say to you all, there is no one at Priluka who has better 
 right to wear the Rilinski jewels than my daughter Ekaterina. 
 There was a time in the history of this house when she saved 
 them from a great danger." 
 
 " Tell us about it, grandmama," said little Sergei. 
 
 "No, dear, I cannot; but one day, when you are a man, 
 you can ask your grandfather in Odessa he knows." 
 
 Farringham had gone up to Anna Nikolaievna and put his 
 arm about her shoulder. 
 
 " Anna dear, I want to speak to you." 
 
 She followed him unwillingly to one of the windows.
 
 286 KATYA 
 
 " Tell me, Anna why is it you do not like me ? What 
 have I done that you are always so unfriendly ?" 
 
 She stood a moment in silence, looking down. When she 
 raised her eyes they were full of tears. 
 
 " You have made my father and my grandfather unhappy, 
 M. Farringham," she said, releasing herself from his arm. 
 
 Farringham bowed his head. He also felt suddenly the 
 cold about him. 
 
 Away in her own room Katya laid off her borrowed splen- 
 dour. Tanya placed the jewels carefully back in their cases, 
 talking ceaselessly the while. " An Empress, a holy saint . . . 
 you must marry again, little dove; many men would be happy 
 for only a look from you. And what need to take a heathen 
 Englishman; there are Russians enough who would be more 
 than willing, my treasure. Let them only see you, and they 
 will fall at your feet. Men are all fools, as I used to say to 
 poor Anton Andreievitch. . . . Yes, yes, an Empress, a 
 holy saint. . . ." 
 
 But Katya was not listening. She watched herself in the 
 glass, as her maid loosed the diadem from her hair. Now and 
 again the crash of thunder above the house made her shiver; 
 her teeth were chattering with cold. 
 
 " See what you are doing, Jeannette ! You hurt me !" 
 
 " If madame would sit still a moment ..." 
 
 Was it the light only, or did the glass show the faintest 
 wrinkles about her eyes ? Was there not something in the 
 lines of the mouth that told how the years had gone ? How 
 could it be that a child's word could dash down all her con- 
 sciousness of power and leave her weak, weak ? . . . Until 
 now she had but one wish that all would go and leave her 
 here alone at Priluka, to fling herself at her mother's knee 
 and cry as she had done so many years ago. . . . 
 
 Tanya stood with her apron full of sparkling stones. " And 
 now it all goes to little Sasha. Sixteen he'll be next spring, 
 my own Sasha's boy. . . . And happy he was to see you so 
 this night, little dove ... an Empress, a holy saint. . . ." 
 
 But no one listened to Tanya. In Katya's ears a voice was 
 speaking low, a secret whisper heard beneath the storm, 
 thrusting into her heart the icy words from that dread night 
 in the City of Suffering : 
 
 " Too late . . it is too late 1"
 
 WAITING AND DOUBT 287 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 WAITING AND DOUBT 
 
 THAT winter Princess Rilinski fell seriously ill ; Mikailo drove 
 in to Dubni sometimes twice a day with the closed, fur-lined 
 sledge to bring the doctor. 
 
 Katya nursed her mother with the kindliest care; she moved 
 out of her own room, which she had had since she was a child, 
 and took up her quarters in Anastasia Grigorievna's little 
 dressing-room, where the door leading to the sick-room stood 
 open day and night. It was long since Mazeppa had carried 
 his mistress in the saddle ; Mikailo took him for a run now and 
 then in the stable-yard. Katya would not allow her favourite 
 mount to draw a sledge, nor did she like others to ride him. 
 She herself seldom rode beyond the boundaries of the park, 
 but, however short her absence, she could always mark, on 
 her return, that her mother had missed her. 
 
 The two women spoke often of Farringham, whose affairs 
 were progressing favourably. His uncle had promised to 
 find him a position which would enable him to marry, and had 
 in the meanwhile done something to augment his present 
 slender resources. Princess Rilinski's letter had evidently 
 not been without effect. There was, however, no immediate 
 prospect of Katya's going to England. Although her mother 
 frequently urged her to make preparations for the marriage, 
 she herself did nothing. Neither her children nor General 
 Karatayef had as yet been informed of her intention. Katya's 
 application for an augmentation of her pension had been for- 
 warded through the Ministry for Foreign Affairs to the proper 
 quarter; as to its fate, however, neither she nor Mandelberg 
 knew anything at all. It almost seemed as though the war 
 in Manchuria had interrupted the regular progress of business 
 in that department also. When the Princess asked her 
 daughter if she did not think the application should be altered 
 so as only to embrace the needs of the children, Katya answered 
 with something like impatience that it seemed as if her mother 
 wished to get rid of her. 
 
 " Really, mama, is it so pressing a matter, my departure 
 from Priluka ? And as for those wretched three thousand
 
 288 KATYA 
 
 roubles of my own, Miliukin said the sum would be withdrawn 
 if I married again. Well, let it go. But I must be allowed 
 to be married first before we trouble about such trifles." 
 
 " You know yourself, dear, how glad I am to have you here 
 with me. Heaven will reward you for your faithful care and 
 affection. But you are too hard upon your lover, child. 
 Think how long he has waited for you even since you gave 
 him your promise. A man may well grow tired of waiting so, 
 even when he is as good and true as George. Men are not 
 patient, dear." 
 
 But Katya shelved the question. Her conscience was 
 uneasy with regard to Farringham ; she knew she was acting 
 wrongly towards him, and yet she found it impossible to 
 decide. When she thought matters over, she felt that her 
 promise to him irked and chafed her like a chain. Then, too, 
 he was a foreigner ; marriage with him would mean separation 
 from her country and her friends, a new struggle among alien 
 people in an unknown world. Farringham had promised that 
 they should live most of the year at Priluka, as long as that 
 white palace in Ukraine remained her own. There were 
 but two years now and a year was so short. Possibly, 
 too, his new position and his dependence on his uncle might 
 make it difficult for him to keep his promise. She would be 
 dependent in every way. Nor had she now her old strong 
 courage, nor the same weapons to serve her in a fight for 
 supremacy. Each morning the great glass in Anastasia 
 Grigorievna's dressing-room showed her the too plain traces 
 of the hastening years more evident, even, than on that night 
 when the jewels of the Rilinskis had been taken from her, 
 one by one, because they were not hers, and never would be 
 hers. . . . 
 
 " You have borne children, but you are barren, Katya." 
 Was there more truth, perhaps, in Niki's words than she had 
 dreamed ? Had he delved in the depths of her soul only to 
 find all desolation there ? How could she be barren ? She 
 knew that she could love. A wealth of feelings pulsed 
 through her heart. And she was fond of Farringham. . . . 
 And Petya kindly, faithful Petya, who never wrote or 
 wearied her, but waited ever, with unchanging affection. 
 Had Niki meant the mere desire of possession, so coarse and 
 ugly in a man ? Yet he had possessed her; she had given him
 
 WAITING AND DOUBT 289 
 
 all he craved, to him and to no other. And now Farringham 
 would demand the same of her; she understood what her 
 mother had meant by " men's impatience." Katya shivered 
 at the thought of what awaited her. She felt no longing for 
 any new embrace, no least desire to be the mother of any 
 man's children. If that was to be barren, then she was barren, 
 and would never be otherwise. No, life was mean and cruel ; 
 she wished for nothing but to stay on at Priluka, away 
 from everyone save her mother, whom she loved her good, 
 kind mother. She must not die and leave her utterly 
 alone ! 
 
 At this time Farringham was in London, drifting idly about 
 in his clubs. The time crawled slowly on; Katya's letters 
 grew more brief, and the intervals between them longer. He 
 longed for some sign from her which could banish his fear 
 and doubt longed to regain his old feeling of confidence in 
 her and in their future. There were days when his longing 
 grew to desperate misery. Try as he would, he could not hide 
 from himself the fact that his love and its hope were slowly 
 perishing for want of nourishment. Whenever Katya, in her 
 letters, tried to resume the pitch of intimate confidence from 
 the happy spring days at Priluka, he could feel how utterly 
 she failed. Each letter showed also that she had forgotten 
 what she had written in the last; the grace and fluency of 
 style which he had so much admired, and which had marked 
 every one of her letters to Stradovo, had given place now to 
 forced, monotonous repetition of expressions which had long 
 since lost their freshness a playing upon slackened and dis- 
 cordant strings. She reiterated her promise to come to 
 England, or to ask him again to Priluka, as soon as her 
 mother's health permitted. Month after month, however, 
 brought the same news of Princess Rilinski; no pain, but 
 neither any strength with which to meet the ever-threatening 
 danger. The doctor from Dubni had recommended that a 
 famous specialist from Kief should be called in, and this had 
 been done with no further result, however, than that the 
 great man had approved of all that his colleague was doing for 
 the patient, and had informed Katya privately that the 
 Princess might live for half a year or more, if they succeeded 
 in keeping up her little remaining strength. But she might 
 pass away suddenly at any time. " Above all, no excitement ; 
 
 19
 
 290 KATYA 
 
 perfect quiet, careful nursing, and nourishing diet that is all 
 that can be done." 
 
 Farringham wrote to ask if, under these circumstances, he 
 might not as well come to Priluka at once. The first few letters 
 he received gave him no answer; he repeated his request, 
 promising to interfere in no way with Katya's nursing, and 
 to make his presence as little marked as possible. When at 
 last an answer came, it was to the effect that the doctor had 
 forbidden even the slightest disturbance; it was not even 
 considered advisable to invite Sonya or little Sasha. " But 
 trust me, dear George," she wrote, " that as soon as there 
 occurs any change for the better, or, as we, alas ! must be 
 prepared for, the worse, you shall be the first to hear." 
 
 Farringham attempted to while away the long hours of his 
 irksome leisure by studying Russian, and worked hard at 
 the language, making rapid progress. He took in one of the 
 principal Kief papers, and devoured besides all that the 
 English press offered of news from the seat of war in Man- 
 churia and the internal unrest in Russia itself. This was the 
 only way in which he could to some degree satisfy his need of 
 living for and with Katya. Often, when he wrote to her, he 
 thought with anxiety of the possible fate of his letters. Did 
 they weary her ? Had he lost the power to make her listen 
 with her heart ? Was she gliding gradually away from him ? 
 Was he to lose her at the last, seeing her leaving him far 
 behind, as when she rode from him that day by Mukovo, 
 hastening triumphantly into her City of Suffering ? 
 
 Old Lord Farringham was in town; as the leader of the 
 Opposition, his presence was necessary as long as the House 
 was sitting. He did not fail to mark the all too evident state 
 of his nephew's mind. " For a comparatively young lover," 
 he said one day, " you do not look particularly cheerful, my 
 boy. Course of true love not running smooth, eh ? And 
 how is Princess Rilinski ? Delightful old lady she must be, 
 to judge from that letter she wrote me; I should like to know 
 her. And I must say it speaks well for her daughter's heart 
 that she nurses her mother with such care. It cannot be 
 very amusing for a young and pretty woman to live by herself 
 in a lonely place in the middle of Russia all through the 
 winter. It must be horribly cold and dull." 
 
 Farringham spent many a lonely evening striving to come
 
 WAITING AND DOUBT 291 
 
 to some clear understanding of his feeling for Katya, and hi* 
 whole idea of her. He saw her in many guises, as one playing 
 many parts, which seemed opposed one to another, and from 
 which it was impossible to extract any common personality. 
 Of them all, the picture of her as a young girl in Paris, longing, 
 amid the brilliant surroundings, for her home in far Ukraine, 
 seemed to harmonize best with Katya's self as he had seen 
 her at Priluka. There was perhaps some likeness also, between 
 Karatayef's young wife, who, in despite of all other women, 
 had claimed and won supremacy in those cities of the Balkans, 
 and the Katya who had played hostess through that summer 
 at Priluka, eager in every amusement of the moment, with 
 no thought beyond the present. But he found it impossible 
 to reconcile the cult she made of Niki's memory with the 
 conditions of that marriage, which he himself knew better 
 than any other. He could not understand how Karatayef 
 dead could come to mean so much to her, when the living 
 man had played, apparently, so slight a part in her life. The 
 only explanation he could find failed to satisfy him, and he 
 strove to eliminate it from his mind. No one, least of all 
 himself, should say of Katya that she played a heroine's part 
 for its applause, eternally unsatisfied with the appreciation 
 won, even from those who stood her nearest. Nor did such 
 a picture answer in the least to reality as he had observed and 
 noted it : her faithful tenderness towards her mother, and 
 her passionate affection for her beautiful home. And yet, 
 here again uncertainty and vagueness marred his view. His 
 impression of Katya as a daughter did not agree with his 
 observation of her as a mother, however much he strove to 
 make it. Her children played too small a part in her exist- 
 ence; she did not even understand them. Farringham 
 shivered at the recollection of Anna Nikolaievna's words that 
 evening when her mother had put on the borrowed jewels. 
 This child now almost a young woman regarded her mother 
 as an enemy, and hated Farringham himself. How could he 
 ever act a father's part towards her ? She was like ice, ex- 
 haling such a cold as threatened death to his own happi- 
 ness. She was the shadow cast by Katya's first marriage 
 over the new, in which all hope and confidence and safety 
 withered. 
 The years had set their mark on Katya, and yet she was
 
 292 KATYA 
 
 still desirable now, in her fascinating beauty of late summer, 
 as she had been in her life's earliest spring, It needed not 
 a lover's eye to see that she had yet the power to win and 
 rule. That evening of the storm, when she had decked her- 
 self in brilliant barbaric splendour it was not Farringham 
 alone who had felt himself fascinated. There was something 
 of a challenge in her showing herself thus at such a time, 
 and she had need of all her confident strength to support it. 
 But the end had been harsh discord, as now with her letters 
 to himself. It was all a desperate playing upon strings now 
 void of melody a lost hope led against the pitiless waves of 
 time. 
 
 Farringham had wished to see his Katya at Priluka; he 
 had seen her, but did he know her better now for that ? He 
 could but shake his head in answer. He knew now that he 
 had deceived himself and her in saying that he only needed 
 to be near her. The self-effacing modesty of worship had 
 grown to an intense desire for possession; he would have her 
 for his own, jealously watching that no day should be lost 
 of his long-waited and late-won reward. He was no more 
 her servant; he could scarcely bear to wait a month more in 
 uncertainty. Now it must be; now he would take her or 
 resign. He would not listen to his secret fear of the hidden 
 violent forces in herself; he would be deaf to every voice of 
 warning from his own too clearly seeing reason. But a 
 decision he would have an end of this fear-shadowed waiting 
 that was wrecking all his health and peace of soul. 
 
 His resolution, however, met but the fate of many earlier 
 such. It bore no fruit of action, and Farringham felt his 
 weakness pitifully. The winter melted into spring, the 
 London season was at its height. Farringham was beginning 
 to familiarize himself with his duties as political secretary, in 
 the position which his uncle had given him in order to occupy 
 his mind and keep him from melancholy reflection. By the 
 end of May Katya's letters had dwindled to brief bulletins of 
 her mother's condition. The newspapers were full of reports 
 of riot and disturbance throughout the Russian Empire. At 
 the seat of war in Manchuria things had been quiet since the 
 Russian retreat from Mukden, but a great fleet was on its way 
 from the Baltic to the Chinese coast, and nearing now the waters 
 where the Japanese were waiting, ready for the final struggle.
 
 WAITING AND DOUBT 293 
 
 At last, in the beginning of June, Farringham received a 
 telegram, despatched from Dubni, and considerably delayed 
 in transmission on account of the disorganization of the 
 Russian telegraph service. It read : 
 
 " Come at once ; mother asking for you. Life ebbing slowly ; 
 situation desperate. KATYA." 
 
 The same evening Farringham left London. 
 
 Princess Rilinski lay in her bed, very white and still. Both 
 her daughters were with her. At the foot sat Tanya, weeping 
 silently; now and then she rose, and stole out to bring word 
 to those waiting in sorrowful anxiety without. The great 
 house was full of silence. In the country round about the 
 peasants were rising, harrying the estates with fire and steel, 
 while in the towns, in Kief and Tchernigof, Kursk, and 
 Odessa, bloodshed and burning were in spate. Priluka waited 
 for the death that was to come within its walls, and prayed 
 for the soul that soon should find its rest. 
 
 " I know you yes, my children." Anastasia Grigorievna's 
 voice was faint and gentle. " I know you are here with me. 
 And Sasha is coming soon my own Sasha; it is long since I 
 have seen him. He was so ill, and we did not know* And 
 Niki was so good to him papa and I were so fond of Niki. 
 . . . Sonya, child, what is the matter ? Are you faint ? 
 It is the sun; you must not stand so on the steps. Sonya, 
 little Sonya dear, come to me, and do not cry so. It will be 
 easier after a time. . . . You must try to bear it bravely, 
 darling, and we will help you, all of us. Petya. . . . Where 
 is Petya ? I asked you to call him ; I must say good-bye. * . ." 
 
 The thin, transparent fingers played nervously with the 
 coverings ; the eyes, with their heartrending look of unreality, 
 turned towards Katya. 
 
 " You have not forgotten Petya ? . . . I cannot go till I 
 have said good-bye." 
 
 Katya exchanged a glance with her sister. 
 
 " Petya has come, mama dear; he is in the drawing-room; 
 Tanya shall call him." 
 
 " Thanks, Katya dear. Bend down, child, and let me kiss 
 you ; you have made my last days quiet and good. My hands 
 are so heavy, or I would bless you, dear, as I did when you lay 
 sobbing on the divan there that day. But the blessing is in
 
 294 KATYA 
 
 my thoughts, dear in my heart and soon I will ask God to 
 watch over you, my little swift bird. You would go your own 
 ways always, yet you loved Priluka so Priluka and us 
 all. 
 
 In the doorway that led to the dressing-room stood Petya 
 Orloff; his eyes asked Sonya if he might come in. She shook 
 her head. Katya was sitting with her back to him, striving 
 to keep back her tears. The Princess lay with closed eyes, 
 and seemed half unconscious now of her surroundings. 
 
 A little while all was still. Then the thin hands commenced 
 again their nervous play. Anastasia Grigorievna opened her 
 eyes, and stared as though dazed into the half-dark. 
 
 " Yes tell papa I am coming. Run, Tanya, let Dimitri 
 tell Mikailo to harness quickly Sergei Arkaievitch does not 
 like to be kept waiting. Sasha where is Sasha ? Katya, 
 your brother is not here. . . . Ah, God, to let him die alone ! 
 Not even Niki. . . ." 
 
 Tears welled over the pale cheeks ; the hands were crushing 
 the folds of the counterpane. 
 
 " Mama," whispered Sonya in her ear, " Petya is here 
 if you will see him." 
 
 A faint smile lit the dying woman's face. Petya Orloff 
 kissed her hands, and knelt beside the bed. 
 
 " Sonya, child, put my hand on Petya's head so. It is 
 good to feel you here again, dear boy. You must not run 
 away from Priluka again ; Uncle Sergei and I we will be kind 
 to you. Stay here in your home, Petya; you are one of us, 
 and you must not go away. Katya dear, remember you have 
 promised, and Sonya too. Good-bye, Petya, my own boy, 
 with the great heart to suffer and wait. . . ." 
 
 The words grew indistinct and died away. Sonya gently 
 lifted her mother's hand. Katya's eyes never left her face. 
 
 The doctor came for his afternoon visit; when he had 
 listened to the patient's breathing and felt her pulse, he 
 whispered to Sonya: 
 
 " The priest ! I brought him with me from Dubni; he is 
 waiting." 
 
 Quietly, solemnly, the old priest went through the Mass for 
 those about to die. Thin waves of incense floated through the 
 room, as the prayer went up for grace and forgiveness of sins. 
 Sonya and Petya Orloff knelt, making the sign of the cross;
 
 WAITING AND DOUBT 295 
 
 at the foot of the bed Tanya was weeping silently. The 
 doctor marked the fainter lift of the weakening breath. 
 Katya had laid one hand over her mother's, and watched her 
 closed eyes fixedly. 
 
 Anastasia Grigorievna seemed to ignore the presence of the 
 doctor and the priest. Now and again she opened her eyes, 
 and her glance met Katya's. A scarcely audible whisper 
 passed her pale lips : 
 
 " George Katya do not forget. . , ." 
 
 A little after Katya caught the words: " Sergei, Sasha . . . 
 wait for me. . . ." 
 
 The doctor touched Sonya and Petya Orloff, signing to 
 them to move closer. Katya also bent cautiously over the 
 bed. 
 
 For the last time Princess Rilinski looked in the faces of 
 those she loved. They saw her lips move, but heard only the 
 words "... all ... so ... kind. . , ." 
 
 And so, in the summer evening, as the birds in the park of 
 Priluka sought their nests, the soul of Princess Rilinski passed 
 with the passing of the sunset glow into the dark. 
 
 Not until two days after did Farringham reach Priluka, 
 having been delayed on the road, partly by a strike of Polish 
 railwaymen, partly by an attempt to cut the line between 
 Kief and Koronevo. 
 
 The head of the old house, the only one who now bore 
 the long-honoured name Prince Alexander Alexandrovitch 
 Rilinski arrived from Belgrade twenty-four hours later. He 
 had been forced to make part of the journey from Kief in a 
 hired carriage. Count Dolgoruki telegraphed from Odessa 
 that it was impossible for him to leave the town, and repre- 
 sented most strongly the inadvisability of allowing Sonya's 
 and Katya's children to do so under the existing circumstances. 
 General Karatayef was also unable, old and weak as he was, 
 to bear the peril and fatigue of such a journey, however much 
 he might desire to pay the last honour to his son's faithful 
 friend. 
 
 It was but a small train of mourners that followed Princess 
 Rilinski to her grave in the cemetery at Dubni. Besides her 
 two daughters and her grandson were only Petya Orloff, 
 Farringham, and Vladimir Shipagin, the last-named having
 
 296 KATYA 
 
 arrived from Patkanovo on the morning of the funeral, to 
 return the same day. All the old servants from Priluka fol- 
 lowed the coffin, but none of the peasants from the estate were 
 met, the Chief of Gendarmerie having requested that every 
 opportunity for an assembly in force be avoided. In spite 
 of this precaution, the Jews in Dubni had closed their shops 
 and retired behind shuttered windows as the procession passed 
 with its escort of mounted gendarmes. 
 
 After a life of love and kindliness, Princess Rilinski was 
 borne to her grave as through a hostile land. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 
 
 BOTH Farringham and Petya Orlofi noticed that Katya's 
 cheeks had lost something of their wonted colour. There 
 were times, too, when her bearing seemed less upright, her 
 step no longer so elastic, until, recollecting herself, she strove 
 to compensate by a forced effort the lack of that grace and 
 easy dignity which once had been her natural carriage. Now 
 and again she confessed to weariness; dark shadows showed 
 about her great beautiful eyes, and often she would sit for 
 long gazing silently before her into nothing. 
 
 Farringham had not dared to press his claim for a decision 
 immediately after the Princess's death. Katya had thanked 
 him warmly and kindly for his coming ; she wept in his arms, 
 as she told him how her mother at the last had spoken of 
 " George and Katya." But she begged him to remember 
 that she herself could now have no thought for anything save 
 her bereavement. " Do not fear," she said, and there was 
 something of old promise in her tone; " my faithful lover, do 
 not fear ; I am yours, as I promised you, and as mama wished 
 it to be. Priluka will be our home for nearly two years yet 
 as long, at least, as you can make it so. And after that we 
 two can find a place to be happy together. But let me have 
 peace a little while. My thoughts are heavy, and my heart 
 sick." 
 
 The only one who seemed able to interest Katya and conjure 
 back her old bright smile was Petya Orloff. For the last
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 297 
 
 few months he had been lying in Odessa Roads as second in 
 command on board the Admiral Orloff, which, together with 
 two smaller cruisers, the Dniepr and Pobieda, were apparently 
 acting as a sort of marine police control. In the ordinary 
 course, Captain Orloff should have left Priluka immediately 
 after the funeral, but at Katya's request he had telegraphed 
 asking for an extension of leave. Some time elapsed before 
 the answer arrived, and he began to grow uneasy. " You 
 have no idea," he said at table the same evening, " what a 
 witches' caldron Odessa is just now. One would think it was 
 there the war was being fought, and not in the Far East." 
 When the reply, delayed in transmission, arrived at last, 
 giving him a week's respite, Katya was as glad as he himself 
 at the news. 
 
 But who was this George Farringham, and why had Princess 
 Rilinski desired the presence of this stranger by her death- 
 bed ? Petya remembered vaguely a conversation years ago 
 in the " Club," just before the day that had proved so fatal 
 to his own hopes the day of General Karatayef's victory, 
 when Katya had been forced to sell herself for those grey houses 
 by the Black Sea. Petya had long ago forgotten the name of 
 that Englishman of whom she had spoken that day in the 
 Club, but it was beyond doubt Farringham, the son of a 
 village priest, one day, as in the English novels, to blossom 
 out into a noble Earl. It was he whom she had met in Paris 
 in that year when she had written two letters to himself his 
 poor treasures, all the guerdon she had ever given. . . . Yes, 
 he remembered now ... it was about those letters he had 
 made that unlucky slip they had been talking of that same 
 Englishman, and Farringham was his name. . . . 
 
 Petya Orloff regarded Farringham with suspicion. He 
 sought for information from his old friends, Tanya, Dimitri, 
 and Mikailo, who had all three received Petya with open 
 arms, Tanya still using the " thou " of his boyhood, that 
 showed how she counted him, as Anastasia Grigorievna had 
 said at the last, for " one of us." He asked questions, and 
 very soon discovered that Farringham had been at Priluka 
 from the previous spring till far on in September. " He is a 
 nice man, Petya," said old Tanya. " Last year he didn't 
 understand a word of all one said to him, poor fellow ! But 
 this time he can speak almost like a human being. A pity he
 
 298 KATYA 
 
 is a heathen, and has such a horrible name. ..." Mikailo 
 protested that Petrushka, bird of mystery, had kst year 
 spoken better Russian than Miyestr Farringham, the foreigner 
 who had neither Christian name nor patron ymic. " Still," 
 added Mikailo, with his good-humoured, crafty smile, "I have 
 learned in my life, Peotr Konstantinovitch, that there are 
 times when all languages are alike. Now, you would not 
 think, to look at me, that I could understand either English 
 or French, would you ? No, you would not, and you would 
 be quite right, because I can't. And yet I could tell you 
 pretty exactly I don't say to a word or two, but pretty 
 exactly, as I say all that the Englishman said to Ekaterina 
 Sergeievna last spring, when they went riding together." 
 But when Petya endeavoured to persuade Mikailo to make 
 proof of his asserted insight, the old man shook his greying 
 mane, and declared that he would lose his right hand first. 
 " It's like this, Peotr Konstantinovitch," he said, with the 
 air of very wisdom imparting precept to the young: " I know 
 pretty exactly what was said then in English or in French I 
 didn't say to a word or two, but pretty exactly I know that 
 well enough. But I do not know if that is now still said in 
 Russian, and so I keep my tongue in its stable. Not all 
 that one says in English or in French is said again next year 
 in Russian. Look at Mazeppa here. The fellow came from 
 Stradovo, where poor Nikolai Nikolaievitch was done to 
 death by heathen beings. Now, last year Mazeppa had no 
 rest no, not a day and thin he was at last, so it was pitiable 
 to see, in spite of being pumped full of oats as a priest of 
 vodka. But this year nobody rides Mazeppa, and he stands 
 there doing nothing, and growing fat as a Government official 
 in Tchernigof." 
 
 Petya Orloff approached Sonya, and asked her frankly in 
 what relation Farringham stood to Katya and the family. 
 Sonya's reply was evasive: a friend of Katya and Niki; for- 
 merly in the English Diplomatic Service; had been British 
 Consul in Stradovo at the time of Niki's murder. . . , Anas- 
 tasia Grigorievna had been very fond of him. . . . 
 
 " And you do not think there is anything between them ?" 
 asked Petya again. " Really, Sonya, you might speak 
 openly to me, at least." 
 
 Sonya looked down, avoiding his eyes. "It is not easy
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 299 
 
 to say, Petya. Perhaps there has been something, but, on 
 my honour, I do not know whether there is. Ask Katya her- 
 self when you can get an opportunity." 
 
 Petya strove to conceal his uneasiness. He and Farring- 
 ham were to all outward seeming the best of friends, and 
 often took their morning walk in the park together. Young 
 Prince Rilinski frequently accompanied them. Sasha's son, 
 now a boy of sixteen, had conceived a passionate attachment 
 for Orloff, who treated him with the kindliest comradeship, 
 and spoke so affectionately of his father. 
 
 " I can't help feeling I've known you quite a long time," 
 said Farringham to Orloff once during their morning walk. 
 " The Princess often used to speak of you; it will doubtless 
 be no news to you when I say she was extremely fond of you." 
 
 " Grandmama has told me also about you, Peotr Kon- 
 stantinovitch," put in Sasha. "And mama you should 
 hear her ! My stepfather often says if he ever could be jealous 
 of anyone ..." 
 
 " Do not forget to bring your mother my sincerest regards, 
 Alexander Alexandrovitch. She was a beautiful and charming 
 girl when I knew her." 
 
 " You might say ' thou' and ' Sasha ' to me, Peotr Kon- 
 stantinovitch." 
 
 " My dear boy, what an idea 1" Petya laid a hand on the 
 boy's shoulder. " The only Prince Rilinski in all Russia, and 
 Lord of Priluka. ..." 
 
 " Priluka is not mine yet; it is a year next spring before I 
 am of age." 
 
 " Well, perhaps you are right in a way; but it doesn't make 
 much difference. Anyhow, when you do enter upon your 
 inheritance, I hope you won't make too many alterations. 
 Priluka is best as it is." 
 
 " We must have a new boat, though, Peotr Konstantino- 
 vitch; I have spoken to Aunt Katya about it. The old one 
 is almost falling to pieces ; it's dangerous to use it ; and Dimitri 
 says it must be twenty years old at least." 
 
 There was a touch of melancholy in Petya's voice as he 
 answered: " Sasha, my boy, let the old boat stay there as 
 long as it can a little longer for my sake. . . ." 
 
 Both Sasha and Farringham looked surprised; Petya him- 
 self felt that he was giving way to sentiment, and hastened
 
 3 oo KATYA 
 
 to add: " I mean, you should get a motor -boat as well, and 
 keep the old one on. Ask your Aunt Katya, and see what 
 she says." 
 
 Once more the days flew quickly at Priluka. Katya 
 begged and prayed Petya to apply for a further extension of 
 leave; he declared it was impossible. She almost clung to 
 him, and was ever reminding him of their youth together 
 and the many happy memories they had in common. " Petya, 
 do you remember . . ." the words were ever on her lips, 
 as a refrain " do you remember when you wanted me to 
 run away with you ? Do you remember how I blacked 
 Petrushka, and you climbed up and fetched him in a paper 
 bag ? Do you remember when we broke in Murad, and papa 
 was so angry ? Petya, do you remember . . ?" 
 
 All this made Farringham feel himself a stranger once 
 more; his presence seemed superfluous. He had no share in 
 these recollections that were continually being called up in 
 his hearing. It was impossible for either of the two men to 
 see Katya alone; both tried, and often their attempts led to 
 unmistakable discovery of each other's intention, much to the 
 embarrassment of Petya, who found it difficult to appear 
 unconcerned. Katya had again moved in to her own apart- 
 ments, and did not appear until the middle of the day. When 
 not accompanied by Sonya and Sasha, she was careful to have 
 business with Tanya, or Mikailo, or the steward of the estate, 
 who for the present took their instructions from her as mis- 
 tress of Priluka. Mandelberg had written to say that he 
 would come as soon as it was possible to travel with some 
 degree of safety, to attend to the reading of the will and 
 other necessary formalities. Altogether, Katya was very 
 evidently busy. If Farringham and Petya cared to accom- 
 pany her on the daily round of duties, they were welcome. 
 She could spend hours with them together, and often sent for 
 Petya, if he did not appear of his own accord, to make one of 
 the party inspecting house and garden, stables and stores. 
 She would not be without him for the short time that yet 
 remained. But she was never to be found alone. At dinner, 
 at late tea, or on the veranda in the evening, was heard con- 
 tinually her, " Petya, do you remember ?" and Farringham 
 saw how she seemed brightened and rejuvenated by the 
 company of the handsome, kindly officer her countryman
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 30! 
 
 and long proved friend, who had been her mother's 
 favourite, and whom all Priluka loved. 
 
 It was the last evening before Captain Orloffs departure. 
 Sonya and Farringham had gone indoors for a moment to find 
 some pictures, and Katya availed herself of the opportunity 
 to slip away with Petya. Sasha had begged Aunt Sonya to 
 play over some old Cossack songs, and Farringham, returning 
 to the veranda alone, found it deserted. 
 
 A feeling of uneasiness seized him. Katya was willing, 
 then, to walk alone with Petya in the evening, the time she 
 hitherto had always spent with the whole party together. t . . 
 What meant this vague undercurrent of things going on about 
 him, in which he had no personal part, and which he was yet 
 daily forced to witness ? His old impatient claim for a de- 
 cision, to know his fate, reasserted itself now; he hurried off 
 into the park to find the woman of his troth. 
 
 Swiftly and cautiously he moved, taking such ways as 
 gave him cover, even long after he had ceased to hear the 
 sound of Sonya's playing from the house, searching and listen- 
 ing the while as one pursuing crime. His scrupulous honour 
 told him his suspicion was unworthy, or, at least, that he had 
 no right to seek such method of allaying it. After all, the 
 two had every right to be alone. But he thrust protest aside, 
 without the slightest shame; nothing could stop him now. 
 So strong, indeed, was his conviction that hidden happenings 
 were toward that he felt it would be disappointment should 
 his search prove fruitless now. He stole through the trees, 
 looking down each path, and seeking the spots which he knew 
 Katya most cared for, holding his breath, and stepping as 
 lightly as he could. 
 
 The sun was going down ; soon the twilight would hide both 
 himself and those he sought. Every minute was precious. 
 He moved as one walking in a sleep, his senses alert upon the 
 way, his thoughts far from the places where he trod. 
 
 Reaching the lake, he saw the boat was gone. For a 
 moment he was checked. No possibility of overtaking or even 
 approaching them. Out on the landing-stage he dared not 
 go; they could scarcely fail to see him there. Hurrying along 
 the bank, behind the shelter of the reeds, he made for a spot 
 whence he could see across the water. All scruples were for-
 
 302 KATYA 
 
 gotten now; he had no thought but fierce impatience. The 
 sun was nearly gone, sinking behind the poplars on the oppo- 
 site shore. In twenty minutes less the darkness would 
 have covered all about him. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped and crouched behind the reeds. 
 There were voices. 
 
 " Petya, I will not have it. Row back at once you hear 
 me ! Anyone can see us here. What would Farringham 
 think, and all of them ?" 
 
 The answer was drowned in the plash of oars. Then came a 
 swishing of the reeds ; from his hiding-place Farringham could 
 see the high tops swaying straight ahead of him. 
 
 " There !" The oars rattled on the thwarts. "Mr. 
 Farringham will need sharp eyes to find us now. No one 
 can see us here." 
 
 " I don't like it, Petya. If I had dreamed you would break 
 your promise so, I would never have come." 
 
 " Is it so painful, Katya, to sit with me alone a moment in 
 a boat ? You are not lavish of your favours, Katya. And 
 I have waited so long . . . suffered and waited, as your 
 mother said. ..." 
 
 " Petya, Petya, must you now also make me miserable, 
 when I was so glad to have you here ?" 
 
 " Katya, it is long years now since you and I sat alone here 
 in this same boat it was as hard that day as this to find you 
 alone and all that time I have loved no one but you. I will 
 not say I have never cared for any other woman I don't 
 want to tell pretty lies, or make myself seem better than I 
 am but you can trust me when I say you are the only 
 woman I have loved. And I love you still. It is true, Katya, 
 so bitterly true. . . ." 
 
 " Petya, dear Petya, please do not say any more." 
 
 " I know what was at the bottom of it all that day you 
 gave yourself to Niki here. It was not difficult to put two 
 and two together. ..." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Petya, what are you think- 
 ing of ?" 
 
 " But never mind about that now. I didn't mean to say 
 anything about it. And you must not think that I have felt 
 unkindly towards you all those years because you broke your 
 promise. ..."
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 303 
 
 " I promised you nothing, only to write to you, and that I 
 did, until you left Priluka, angry and bitter. ..." 
 
 "True; I was wrong; forgive me. I shall never learn to 
 say what I really mean. I only thought how your words 
 that evening, and something more, something much more 
 how it all gave me in a way a sort of promise, or, at least, 
 had such a meaning for me then and since. . . . Katya, I 
 can't tell you all it meant to me. . . ." 
 
 " Petya ... so faithful you have been ..." 
 
 " If you only knew how bitter it was last year, when your 
 mother invited me time after time, and I could not get away. 
 I hate this miserable war and the scoundrels who have brought 
 it on us. No wonder that the people at home demand new 
 government. If my father had lived, he would have thought 
 as I do and his voice would have had some weight. Last 
 year I had not one week's leave, all for the sake of that Pacific 
 Fleet, smashed to pieces now by the Japanese, or sent to the 
 bottom of the sea. And see what sort of duty we are put to 
 now policemen, in the uniform of the Russian Navy ! A 
 fine employment for Admiral Orloff's son !" 
 
 " Petya, be careful. But I understand you. Miliukin has 
 brought disaster on the country on us all." 
 
 " You don't know how cruel it was last year. At last you 
 were free. ..." 
 
 " Petya !" 
 
 " I mean from my point of view. I had passed those 
 wonderful days with you on board the Admiral Orloff. You 
 were the one I had waited to meet ; you were Katya my own 
 Katya from the old, happy days. And I shall never forget 
 what you said about those cursed houses in the Novaya 
 Ekaterinskaya. , . ," 
 
 " I meant it, every word. Oh, I hale those houses, and 
 more and more since all I have heard. . . ." 
 
 " But you were free: that was my thought. You cried, and 
 little Anna cried. . . . You told me yourself how bitter it 
 was to be all alone with one's sorrow to feel one's life a 
 burden, almost a shame. ..." 
 
 " I have not forgotten, Petya. And it was true it *s true, 
 even to-day." 
 
 " And I thought the time perhaps was come when you might 
 need me. I know I've nothing to offer you but my true love
 
 304 KATYA 
 
 and my strong arms to row if you will but steer. . . . You 
 may smile, Katya, but so I am. And you do not know how 
 glad I would be if you would only come to me let me protect 
 you and the children. . . . No, let me speak out; let me tell 
 you what I have to say now that I have you. I asked you, 
 on board, to send for me if you should need me. But no 
 word came from you, and it would have been difficult for me 
 to come, unless I had resigned. ... I would have done it, 
 Katya, on my honour, if you had asked. Do not think it 
 would have been a sacrifice; I am sick with shame over the 
 disgrace this war has brought upon us. But only your 
 mother wrote, and I thought perhaps you only cared to be 
 alone here at Priluka for a while after those horrible days. , . . 
 I told myself that you knew best, and you could better say 
 when you had need of me." 
 
 " Petya, I love you for that. Papa and mama were 
 right you have a noble heart, Petya. No one is like 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, you need not say nice things; I don't deserve them, 
 if you only knew. I have written many letters to you that 
 I never sent, and said things very different from all that you 
 think so fine. But I tore them up. I can't write letters; 
 they are always poor stupid things for me, and I say all kinds 
 of sentimental nonsense that nobody would care to hear. 
 I'm not much good for anything. Sometimes I think I might 
 have been, if you . . . perhaps I might be yet if only you 
 would let me row, row hard for you. . . ." 
 
 " Petya, you do not know you do not understand . . ." 
 
 " Please don't cry now again, Katya. I won't bother you 
 any more. I know how you loved your mother there was 
 no better woman in all the world . . . and I haven't bothered 
 you these fourteen days, have I ?" 
 
 " No, Petya, not an hour." 
 
 " But I'm going away to-morrow, and you might give me 
 a word of hope. If you only knew how I need it, Katya if 
 you knew how I am starving for just that little hope how I 
 have grown all weak and wretched through these long years' 
 waiting. . . . Your mother knew. . . . Katya, Katya, if 
 you knew all it has meant for me to love you, you would not 
 fear to be a little kind. ..." 
 
 For a while neither spoke, and all about them was very
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 305 
 
 still. Already some pale stars were to be seen; the soft 
 summer dark was gathering among the trees. 
 
 " I don't mean now, of course . . ." Petya's tone was 
 almost humble "after your mother's death; I understand 
 . . . and I've waited so long, I can wait still. . . . For me 
 you will always be as you have been Katya, my queen . . . 
 my love. . . ." 
 
 " Petya, if you knew how gladly I would 1 But I can't, 
 Petya I can't /" 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " Do not ask, Petya, I beg you. ..." 
 
 " Katya, you must answer me now. I can't bear it any 
 longer. For Heaven's sake, for my father's and your mother's 
 sake, Katya, for my own love's sake tell me the truth. 
 Give me a little hope, or let me know the truth I" 
 
 " I cannot, Petya; I am not free. . . ." 
 
 There was a short, sharp sound of indrawn breath, and then 
 Petya's voice, hard now and hoarse : 
 
 " Katya is it Farringham ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have promised him. ..." 
 
 " When ? Tell me when did you promise him ?" 
 
 " It is long ago last year in the spring. ..." 
 
 " And you told me nothing you never wrote. Ah, Katya, 
 how could you ! how could you 1" 
 
 " Petya, you don't know how hard it is for me . . . you 
 do not know how gladly I would give you the hope you 
 ask. . . ." 
 
 " Then give it me, and let the Englishman go." 
 
 " No, Petya, I cannot I dare not. Oh, I don't know what 
 I shall do ! . . ." 
 
 " Katya, you are driving me mad. Answer me are you so 
 bound to this man that you cannot or will not break with him?" 
 
 " Yes, I am. Petya, Petya, it breaks my heart to tell you 
 so you, my dearest friend, my love. . . ." 
 
 " Love /" Petya's voice was harsh and cold. " From 
 what I have heard at Priluka, and from what you told me 
 yourself long ago, it seems that Farringham has waited for 
 you almost as long as I myself. ..." 
 
 " Row back, if you please, at once. When you speak in 
 that tone I have nothing more to say." 
 
 " Very well. I'll row and you can steer. See where your 
 
 20
 
 306 KATYA 
 
 steering has led, Katya 1 You bind yourself to the first 
 comer the one who happens to be nearest. And me, your 
 friend through all these years, who never forced myself upon 
 you me you leave to perish of loneliness and hopeless waiting. 
 One might fear you, Katya, if one did not feel so deeply sorry 
 for you. You do not know what love is what it means to 
 live faithfully for years in longing. ..." 
 
 " Petya, it is late and I am cold. Let us go back." 
 
 From his hiding-place Farringham could hear the heavy, 
 broken breathing of a man in pain. Then came a rustling of 
 the reeds; he fancied he could see their silken plumes waving 
 ghostly in the dark. A moment after he heard the sounds 
 of oars. 
 
 Farringham ran swiftly up to the house, and, hurrying to 
 his room, packed a small handbag hastily. A minute later 
 he was stealing through the park once more to where the great 
 main road lay broadly desolate in the summer night. 
 
 Not until he had reached the old oak that is half-way to 
 Dubni did he pause, sitting down by the roadside for a 
 moment's rest. He was trembling all over, and he breathed 
 hastily, anxiously, as one just escaped from a pursuing 
 peril. The beating of his heart was violent to the verge of 
 physical pain ; his mind was chaos. 
 
 It might have been a minute or an hour he sat, before he 
 was aware of lights approaching from the direction whence 
 he had come. Shortly after the little one-horse cart from 
 Priluka, that fetched the daily post from Dubni, came by. 
 Mikailo was driving.with Petya Orloff on the box beside him. 
 Almost before Farringham had realized what he had seen, 
 the vehicle had passed out of sight again. 
 
 But Orloff was not due to leave until next day ! And there 
 was no train from Dubni before the morning. Farringham 
 himself had made no definite plan; he had but some vague 
 thought of hiring a carriage in Dubni and driving on at once 
 to Koronevo or some other station on the line to Kief. Had 
 Orloff the same intention ? Was he, too, fleeing in secret 
 from Priluka, with Mikailo, who had known him as a boy, to 
 aid his flight ? 
 
 Farringham sprang up, with some idea of overtaking him. 
 He ran a little way, and shouted. But it was too late the 
 little cart was already far away.
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 307 
 
 He stood awhile in hesitant indecision. It seemed to him 
 at last that one thing of importance above all others was to 
 overtake Orloff and tell him that Katya was free that no 
 Farringham now barred his way to hope and happiness. So 
 convinced was he of the necessity for just this action that he 
 started at a run towards Dubni, and did not halt till he was 
 utterly exhausted. Then came new doubt and fresh un- 
 certainty. What right had he to dam the current of another's 
 fate ? If Orloff' s sudden leaving were a flight, as was his own, 
 then it was likely that he fled for just such reasons as himself : 
 fear of a future bound to Katya's will, and bitter sorrow at 
 the wasted love of a whole life. Why should he hinder Orloff 
 in retreat when he himself had chosen that very way ? 
 
 Back to Priluka and confess it all the irreparable wreck 
 of his own love, and the means by which he had learned what 
 he now knew ? Farringham felt he lacked the courage; and, 
 besides, what would it help him to make a scene ? Katya 
 was not a woman to be influenced by passionate words. She 
 acted as her nature was, and never would she be otherwise, 
 whatever man might for a moment occupy her thoughts. 
 If Orloff now was seeking to escape, it was because he had 
 realized his danger. It would be crime to stop him in his 
 flight, and lead him back to the brink of that abyss where the 
 same peril waited him, unchanged and un diminished. Far- 
 ringham felt himself in some vague way as Petya's ally, 
 bound to him by a sort of brotherhood of sex. He dared not 
 take the responsibility of waking Orloff to new hope that at 
 the last must end once more in reiterated bitterness of lost 
 illusion. 
 
 And yet, if Petya Orloff was of a mettle to be content with 
 what crumbs yet remained if he, with his childish modesty, 
 his willing admiration, his patient subservience, could live 
 upon such alms of love as Katya yet might give him in her 
 freedom if this were any worth to him, would it not be cruel 
 to hold it from him ? A man of Orloff 's stamp might well be 
 satisfied where Farringham himself saw only poverty and 
 humiliation. No man has the right to lead another to his 
 grave; but had he any right to hold one back who felt that 
 there, and only there, was happiness for him ? 
 
 No, there was another way. He would seek out Orloff in 
 Dubni, and tell him everything, from man to man. He
 
 308 KATYA 
 
 should know that Katya was free, as she had wished, and why 
 it was that he himself had fled from the danger that had 
 revealed itself at the last moment. He would tell him all, 
 keeping nothing back that might serve as warning. Then 
 Orloff must himself make choice while there was time. 
 
 This new resolution restored in some degree Farringham's 
 peace of mind. He felt he was acting as honour and humanity 
 demanded. He quickened his steps once more; Dubni was 
 not so large a place but that it must be possible to find a 
 traveller there at that hour. 
 
 As he reached the first small houses on the outskirts of the 
 little town, he met the cart from Priluka returning. 
 " Mikailo, stop a moment; it is I, Farringham." 
 " Almighty God 1 Is Miyestr Farringham here also !" 
 " Mikailo, where is Captain Orloff putting up ?" 
 " He isn't putting up. I drove him up to the relay station 
 and woke up the Jew who keeps it, and now Peotr Konstan- 
 tinovitch has taken a kibitka and the two best horses in the 
 place to drive to Koronevo. ..." 
 
 " Did he say why he was leaving in such a hurry ?" 
 " Very little, Your Honour. Something about service; 
 duties in Odessa . . . but, between you and me, couldn't it 
 just as well have waited till to-morrow ? And I didn't like 
 the way he said good-bye. . . . He's a splendid fellow, is 
 Peotr Konstantinovitch, and I've known him since he was a 
 boy ; but still, to kiss me on the cheeks, with tears in his eyes 
 h'm . . . well, it's nothing to do with me, but still . . ." 
 
 " Mikailo, drive me as fast as you can to the relay station, 
 wherever it is. You shall not lose by it. . . ." 
 
 Mikailo whipped up his horse, murmuring a patient query 
 to the dark world generally as to how far Miyestr Farringham 
 also now had duties in Odessa. A few moments later he drew 
 up for the second time at the relay station. 
 
 Captain Orloff had already left. Farringham ordered 
 another carriage the lightest and quickest available. When 
 Mikailo saw the horses being led up, he began to protest loudly 
 against the indignity offered to a distinguished stranger by 
 inviting him to drive behind such a pair of broken-down 
 beasts. The Jew insisted loudly and gymnastically that there 
 were no better cattle to be had in all Ukraine. The question 
 of payment gave rise to further dispute, ' Mikailo assuring
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 309 
 
 Farringham that he was being basely swindled out of at least 
 five roubles. Farringham, however, was disinclined to lose 
 more time in haggling, and asked how long a start Captain 
 Orloff had. 
 
 " Not more than half an hour," declared the Jew. 
 
 " You lie !" shouted Mikailo furiously. " An hour at least; 
 more nearly two. And with these miserable beasts the 
 English Barin will not reach Koronevo before to-morrow 
 noon, as I am an honest man and you are a thief of an 
 Israelite !" 
 
 No other horses were to be had, however; Farringham was 
 forced to take what he could get, and privately determined to 
 let them run till they dropped. There might be a chance of 
 obtaining others on the way. 
 
 At last everything was ready ; Farringham pressed Mikailo's 
 hand, and asked him to recount at Priluka the circumstances 
 of their meeting. 
 
 " And say I will write as soon as I can. Good-bye, Mikailo, 
 my friend. I thank you and the others at Priluka for many 
 a friendly service towards a foreign guest. I will not forget 
 you." 
 
 Mikailo was not slow to remark that Farringham also was 
 very evidently moved. What lay behind the sudden happen- 
 ings of this summer night ? 
 
 " I thank Your Honour for the kind words. But you will 
 come back again soon . . . now that you speak our tongue, 
 and are not a foreigner any more ?" 
 
 Farringham had already taken his seat; he turned and 
 waved his hand to Mikailo, calling : 
 
 " Be good to Mazeppa, Mikailo; look after Mazeppa !" 
 
 The carriage swung out of the yard, rattling over the un- 
 even stones, and came out on the broad road, with its grass 
 and bogs, its sand-drifts and treacherous holes. 
 
 Many times, as they drove, Farringham rose in his seat to 
 look ahead for some sign of the man he was pursuing. But 
 the dark hid everything. He longed for the day, and took 
 out his watch continually. The villages through which they 
 passed were silent and void of evident life; of the occasional 
 belated peasants met upon the road was none who could give 
 news of such equipage as they sought. 
 
 " Faster 1" called Farringham to the driver. The boy
 
 3io KATYA 
 
 lashed furiously at the half-starved beasts, as they toiled 
 along through mud and sand. Farringham felt the pace un- 
 bearably slow. He thought no more now of Priluka ; the dark 
 behind was as a curtain, thickly shutting off a period that now 
 was irrevocably ended a past bound by no thread of life to 
 any future. And the dark ahead was as a veil that hid what 
 little life yet held for him and for one other, who perhaps might 
 find some hope to live on through the years remaining. 
 
 " Faster 1" he called again. The night was fading, and the 
 birds awoke. Day broke at last, and sunlight poured itself 
 abroad over the endless plains of wide Ukraine. Farringham 
 stood up and stared out over the stretch of road ahead, 
 watching for some sign of a man fleeing in sorrow and anger, 
 wounded at heart and weary in trouble of mind. 
 
 " Faster !" Was there no slightest chance of letting Petya 
 Orloff know what news was hastening at his heels ? Here 
 were two men who in this hour thought the same thoughts 
 and suffered the same pain. Each had lost youth and wasted 
 all a life, to reap one bitter guerdon at the last. Still, there 
 was time, perhaps, to save the one, if he but would, and if 
 Fate would but check him in his flight. . . . 
 
 The peasant driver turned in his seat ; a rest was absolutely 
 necessary if the horses were to live. Farringham got out, 
 and paced up and down the road ; he had no thought now for 
 anything save the insistent need of overtaking Orloff; his 
 conscience asked of him to save this man, if yet he might be 
 saved. Impatiently he pressed the driver to go on. 
 
 The sun was high ere he heard news of him he sought. A 
 peasant working in his field had seen an officer in uniform 
 soon after sunrise it was in a kibitka like his own, but with 
 better horses. From hour to hour they heard the same news 
 with increasing frequency, but with exasperating difference: 
 now he had passed an hour or so ago, now but a few short 
 minutes since; now he had taken some short way by little 
 roads, described in lengthy detail by the informant, ignorant 
 of anything called haste. In vain Farringham searched with 
 straining eyes; time after time his hopes were disappointed. 
 The horses, unmistakably weakening, and callous now to the 
 most pitiless lashing, toiled painfully along in travesty of 
 speed. All attempts at hire or purchase of new horses led 
 but to long-drawn haggling and suspicion. The morning was
 
 THE DOUBLE FLIGHT 311 
 
 far advansed, and the distance between the fugitives from 
 Priluka increased. 
 
 It was close on noon when Farringham drew up before the 
 station at Koronevo, where at first no human being was to 
 be seen. At last an idle iunctionary appeared, and lengthily 
 explained how a naval officer had left by the 10.17 train, 
 having taken a ticket to Odessa. He had arrived only just 
 in time to get away. The man was almost certain that the 
 train would get through to Kief. As to its farther progress, 
 however, he could say nothing. He had expressly pointed 
 out to the officer at the time that the service on the Kief- 
 Odessa line was irregular, on account of the continual trans- 
 port of troops. An officer might, however, proceed from 
 Kief by military train, especially if travelling on service. . . . 
 
 " When does the next train leave for Kief ?" 
 
 " At 3.49, after the little train has come in from Tcher- 
 nigof." 
 
 All effort, then, had been wasted. Farringham recognized 
 now that there was not the faintest hope of overtaking Orloff, 
 with the start he had, and the existing disturbance in all rail- 
 way service. Moreover, the land was practically in revolt. 
 There was no hope; Fate had decided. 
 
 Farringham wrote a long letter to Orloff, telling him all 
 that had happened, keeping back nothing, but speaking as 
 man to man. The letter, addressed to the cruiser Admiral 
 Orloff in Odessa Roads, went with the same train by which 
 he himself proceeded to Kief. 
 
 Some days later, after a difficult and perilous journey, he 
 crossed the frontier into Germany. As soon as he reached 
 home he wrote to Katya bidding her good-bye. She wrote 
 many letters, which he did not answer. Later she sought by 
 many ways to learn something of his whereabouts; all she 
 ever heard was that he had gone to some colony on the other 
 side of the world, on some errand unknown. 
 
 In Farringham's life there was no longer any place for 
 Katya.
 
 312 KATYA 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A DAY OF BLOOD 
 
 PETYA ORLOFF arrived in Odessa two days after his sudden 
 departure from Priluka, worn out with weariness and suffering. 
 He had come by military train from Kief, having eaten little 
 and slept not at all on the way. Men told him news of the 
 revolution in Southern Russia; he scarcely listened. And 
 when a party of army officers inquired of him whether it were 
 true that the first signs of mutiny had made their appearance 
 on board the ships at Sevastopol and Odessa, he answered 
 that he knew nothing, having been at another place where 
 he had looked on death. The men stared at him in wonder, 
 and he himself noticed that his voice sounded strange in his 
 own ears. After the first violent excitement followed the 
 vague emptiness of mind that serves as a sort of mental 
 anaesthetic, leaving no energy for plan or plaint, yet nowise 
 weakening the consciousness of suffering. 
 
 He had thought of suicide. The only thing that had held 
 his hand was the thought of Pashka, the little shy, defenceless 
 creature who waited him in their poor lodging in Odessa. He 
 must make for her such provision as he could before he left 
 her. That portion of his belongings which had formed part 
 of his parents' home he would have conveyed to his sister 
 Olga; the rest was to be Pashka's. Mandelberg would know 
 how to draw up the papers in such a way that it would not 
 be taken from her afterwards. Altogether, there should be 
 something like a thousand roubles; that might serve, with her 
 careful management, to help the child over the first difficult 
 time. 
 
 Once more, for the last time, he would take his little true 
 friend in his arms and tell her his thanks. And then 
 nothing. There was no rhyme or meaning more in life ; only 
 in death was peace, and peace was all that now was left to 
 Petya Orloff to desire. 
 
 When the train steamed into Odessa in the late afternoon, 
 the platform and the streets surrounding the station were
 
 A DAY OF BLOOD 313 
 
 occupied by the military. Captain Orloff had to report him- 
 self to the officer in command. 
 
 " Captain Orloff," said the Colonel of Gendarmes, reading. 
 " Thanks, that is sufficient. You are to report for duty on 
 board the Admiral Orloff, I understand, and it looks as if you 
 will have plenty to do, Peotr Konstantinovitch. Up to now 
 things have been fairly quiet to-day about here, at any rate 
 but there was trouble yesterday, and we had to send for 
 reinforcements from all three cruisers. Those quarters about 
 the harbour are simply hornets' nests. Peressip in particular 
 has become the favourite haunt of all the revolutionaries in 
 South Russia. Heaven knows where they manage to get their 
 arms, but get them they do, and at the least opportunity 
 they fire on us and the police like a regiment of sharpshooters. 
 There will be no peace in the town until we have cleared the 
 whole quarter." An orderly came up and saluted. " A 
 moment," said the Colonel; " I will be back directly, and you 
 shall have your pass." 
 
 " I knew it," said the Commandant, as he returned. 
 " They're at it again. Massacring the Jews in one place, and 
 howling for a free constitution in half a dozen others. . . . 
 My orders are to get the newly arrived troops off without 
 delay. Will you have a file of men as escort ?" 
 
 " Thanks; my uniform and pass should be sufficient." 
 
 " As you please. Good-bye, then or, au revoir. We shall 
 meet, no doubt, before long under fire in this inferno." 
 
 Orloff started off on foot. There were no cabs to be seen, 
 and the tram service was apparently suspended, Most of 
 the shops were closed and shuttered ; the deserted streets were 
 patrolled by gendarmes and mounted police. Now and then 
 a troop of Cossacks passed. 
 
 The little flat which he shared with Pashka lay in the 
 Khersonskaya, to reach which it was necessary to pass through 
 the thickly populated part of the old town, where the markets 
 and the banks were situated. As the street names indicate, 
 the quarter has long been principally occupied by Jews and 
 Greeks, who to this day live there in close-packed numbers. 
 Making his way between the patrols under the Ulitza Yevre- 
 skaya the Street of the Jews Orloff heard sounds of shot 
 and shriek ; a little farther on came the noise of shouting and 
 cheers, suddenly drowned in a wild howling as of wounded,
 
 314 KATYA 
 
 furious beasts. Now and then a pistol-shot rang out, followed 
 as often as not by the sound of splintered glass. There was* 
 much to hear, but little or nothing to see; police, gendarmes, 
 and troops formed, as it were, a wall that hid whatever hap- 
 penings were taking place beyond their line. 
 
 As he neared the Deribasof Park, at the end of the Kherson - 
 skaya, the noise from the Greek and Jewish quarters of the old 
 town grew fainter, giving place, however, to other sounds 
 from a different direction. Orloff stopped and listened; 
 there was no mistaking the steady regular crash rifle- volleys 
 from the north-west. So they were fighting in the streets of 
 Peressip. At the point where the Konnaya cuts across the 
 Khersonskaya he encountered a company of infantry moving 
 at the double out towards the harbour. A stream of troops 
 poured past the house where General Karatayef lived. 
 
 When Orloff reached his house in the Khersonskaya, he 
 found the door bolted on the inside. After ringing several 
 times without result, he began to hammer at the door. A 
 police patrol came past; the men made some jeering remarks 
 upon the naval officer's evident anxiety to get safely into 
 shelter. " Let's hope he's braver when at sea," said one, and 
 the jest waked a laugh. From the neighbouring windows 
 curious eyes observed his impatient knocking. 
 
 At last a voice called through the keyhole, asking who 
 knocked. Orloff gave his name, demanding instant admission, 
 and backing his request with threats. The dvornik cautiously 
 inquired whether the Captain were alone, and if all were quiet 
 in the street, and not until he had received satisfactory 
 answer would he open. Orloff slipped in quickly, and the 
 dvornik closed the door behind him. 
 
 " A thousand pardons, Your Honour, but one can't be too 
 careful these days. And we did not know you were coming, 
 or Pakhomya Pavlovna would have been here to receive. ..." 
 
 " Is Pashka not here ?" 
 
 The old man looked wonderingly at Orloff, who in the four- 
 teen days since he had left had grown pale and haggard, with 
 dark hollows under his eyes. 
 
 " No, Your Honour; Pakhomya Pavlovna has not been at 
 home the last ten days that is to say, she has been here every 
 day . . ." 
 
 " Talk sense, Andrei, or I'll hammer you till you do 1"
 
 A DAY OF BLOOD 315 
 
 " A thousand pardons but Your Honour is perhaps ill , . 
 it looks so, at least. . . . Yes, yes, Your Honour, certainly. 
 . . . Well, as Your Honour did not come home the day you 
 had said, and we expected you Heaven knows the little 
 Pakhomya Pavlovna had made all things so prettily ready, 
 with flowers and all flowers for two roubles at least . . . 
 yes, yes, Your Honour, I'm telling as fast as I can . . . and 
 as you didn't come, the little Pakhomya Pavlovna was sorry, 
 and, between ourselves, I suspect a little afraid to be alone 
 these days, when honest folk can't stir across the street to buy 
 a bunch of carrots without . . . yes, yes, Your Honour, I'll 
 tell you all right . . . and so she told the wife I mean, 
 Pakhomya told her that she was going to stay with her little 
 friend. She hasn't many, but there was this one, a girl scarce 
 older than herself little Varya; Varvara Antonovna. She 
 comes from Sevastopol, and she lives here with her parents in 
 Odessa. . . ." 
 
 " When did Pashka go to stay with her ?" 
 
 " She waited all one day and all the next, Your Honour, 
 but then she was frightened at being all alone; she is a little 
 timid thing. And only natural, as the wife said. ..." 
 
 " You said she had been here every day." 
 
 " Pakhomya Pavlovna ? Yes, and so she has. Each day, 
 about this time, or perhaps a little earlier, she has been here 
 to see if Your Honour had come, or any letter, that she could 
 get someone to read to her: the little Varya is clever at 
 reading. . . . But there was nothing, as Your Honour 
 knows." 
 
 " Has she been here to-day ?" 
 
 " To-day ? No, Heaven preserve us, no ! To-day 1 What 
 a thing to ask 1 Even the other days, when she sat for a 
 moment with my wife, we could see she was so trembling 
 with fright after the way . . . and Varya's parents said there 
 were sailors from the ships taking sides with all these robbers 
 and murderers. . . . But Your Honour should know, as my 
 wife said, that it's not for herself no, not for herself the 
 little Pakhomya Pavlovna was afraid, but for Your Honour's 
 self. . . ." 
 
 " Where does this Varya live ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you, Your Honour. Pakhomya Pavlovna gave 
 me the address, so I could send the small boy and tell her
 
 3 i6 KATYA 
 
 in caee Your Honour should come back again. But I beg 
 Your Honour forgive me a thousand times; I couldn't send the 
 small boy out to that place to-day; it would be . . ." 
 
 " Where does she live, man ?" 
 
 " Novaya Ekaterinskaya, twenty-one, fourth floor, the door 
 on the right." 
 
 Orloff caught the old man by the breast of his coat and 
 shook him, shouting fiercely : 
 
 " You lie, old devil, you lie I" 
 
 Andrei slipped from Orloff's grasp, and moved a step back- 
 wards. Then, speaking kindly, as to a sick child, he asked : 
 
 " What is it, Your Honour, what is the matter that you 
 look so ?" 
 
 Petya Orloff sat down on the lowest stair and hid his face 
 in his hands. 
 
 A moment later he raised his head. " And you let her go 
 you and your wife you let her go to live in that infernal 
 place ?" he asked, his voice trembling. 
 
 " How could we, Your Honour ? She did not ask our leave. 
 And whenVarya's parents live there they are honest folk; 
 her father was a carpenter in the shipyard at Sevastopol, like 
 Pakhomya Pavlovna's own father. ..." 
 
 " But you knew that the place was full of revolutionaries 
 and ' Intelligent!.' " 
 
 " True true enough. And my wife said just that thing 
 both to Pakhomya Pavlovna and to Varya herself. But 
 Varya's parents are not of that sort, Your Honour. They are 
 honest working folk, that have no doings with robbers and 
 murderers, and Varya is a decent girl, as Your Honour 
 knows. . . . And besides, it wasn't so bad then in Peressip, 
 not worse than it has been all the summer. It's different 
 with Jevreskaya and Slobodka. . . . But if only Your Honour 
 had come back on the day, then the little Pakhomya Pavlovna 
 would never have left her home, and wouldn't be sitting there 
 now in fear and trouble, as she is, the little thing, and no 
 wonder. . . . It's Your Honour's own fault, and no reason to 
 strike a poor dvornik for it. . . ." 
 
 Orloff rose and took the old man's hand. " Forgive me, 
 my friend," he said, " I am troubled . . . ill. . . ." 
 
 " Your Honour needs not to ask forgiveness of me . . . nor 
 to give money. No, I thank Your Honour ... no need to
 
 A DAY OF BLOOD 317 
 
 think more of a little moment's anger. But Your Honour is 
 not so high and proud as some towards poor people . . . and 
 so I felt it more, just at the moment. . . ." 
 
 " Twenty-one fourth floor right-hand side you said ?" 
 
 " Yes, Your Honour. But surely you will not ..." 
 
 " Yes. I am going to find Pashka and bring her home 
 with me. Or, if that is impossible, then I shall stay with her 
 till things are quieter." 
 
 The old man shook his head in anxious disapproval. But 
 Orloff bade him open, and went out. 
 
 The way to Peressip lay through the Konnaya. The house 
 where General Karatayef lived, and where Mandelberg and 
 Krushofski had their offices, was barred and shuttered. In 
 this part of the street, close to the archiepiscopal palace, the 
 firing out in Peressip could be distinctly heard. General 
 Karatayef might well be proud of his work. In there behind 
 his shutters and bars he could sit in safety with his gold, 
 heedless of the others' misery and suffering. What did he 
 care that the great grey houses which made the monu- 
 ment to his victory at Priluka were daily splashed and 
 stained with blood ? It might be that he trembled for 
 the safety of his property. But he never gave a thought to 
 the broken hope and ruined lives that lay buried beneath the 
 mass of those grey walls by the Black Sea. Well might he 
 hide 1 The weight of suffering his dominant power had 
 caused grew with his gains, and cried to Heaven against him. 
 The curse still shadowed all his mighty work on that ill- 
 omened shore a headstone raised above the grave of youth. 
 
 As Orloff reached the edge of the plateau on which the old 
 town stands, he saw that the approaches to the low-lying 
 fields on which Peressip is built were barred by troops. Here 
 and there a machine-gun stood ready to receive attack. The 
 firing in the streets below was slackening; ambulances were 
 moving up and down the slope. 
 
 A young officer stepped up to Orloff and saluted, asking for 
 his pass. 
 
 " You will excuse the formality," he said, " but we have the 
 strictest orders. ..." 
 
 " What is going on down there ?" 
 
 " We thought we were going to make an end of all the 
 trouble to-day, and drive the scoundrels to bay. But the
 
 3 i8 KATYA 
 
 order was countermanded at the last moment as usual. 
 Prince Olenin does not know his own mind. Stern for an 
 hour and weak the next that seems to be his policy. The 
 ' Intelligent! ' and their leaders are more consistent." 
 
 " Is it all over now ?" 
 
 " Almost. We have cleared the streets." 
 
 " Were there many casualties ?" 
 
 " You can see for yourself," said the officer, pointing 
 to the trail of stretchers crawling up the slope. " There 
 were no marines out to-day at least, not on our side," 
 he added with a smile. " And you may be glad you 
 were not there; it is a nasty work. It costs a deal of 
 innocent blood when our friends the ' Intelligent ' begin de- 
 manding free constitutions and republics and what not all at 
 once. The municipal hospitals are close by; the women 
 and children are sent there but we've pretty well filled 
 them. . . ." 
 
 " Are there women among the wounded ?" 
 
 " Many." 
 
 " Thanks. I think I'll be getting on." 
 
 Orloff returned the officer's salute and hurried down the 
 slope. From the endless procession of wounded came groans 
 of pain and meaningless raving. Among the slightly hurt 
 who were able to walk he noticed a number of women and 
 children. Prisoners there were, too, led with bound hands 
 under the escort of gendarmes. 
 
 At last he reached the entrance to Novaya Ekaterinskaya. 
 It was growing late, but the sun still shone on the sapphire 
 cupolas of the Church of St. Sofia, towering gracefully above 
 the mass of sordid slum below. 
 
 Some soldiers were busy hauling at the body of a dead 
 horse that offered an impediment to the Cossack patrols 
 moving through the street. Pickets of police and gendarmes 
 were posted at intervals of some few paces along the length 
 of the way. The Red Cross men were at work among the 
 wounded; the bodies of slain soldiers and rioters were laid 
 out in rows along the pavement. There was blood every: 
 where: thin stripes and broad patches, covered with flies. 
 Some firemen were removing the debris of a barricade, con- 
 sisting of hand-carts, stones, and chairs and tables. Scattered 
 about the street lay pieces of military equipment flung away or
 
 A DAY OF BLOOD 3*9 
 
 dropped, with glass from broken windows, hats, caps, and 
 blood-soaked rags, and empty cartridges in hundreds. 
 
 The hoofs of the Cossacks' horses clattered over the stones, 
 dogs howled or barked outside barred doors. From the 
 neighbouring streets came an occasional shot, and from time 
 to time the lifting of the wounded on to the stretchers called 
 forth a shriek of pain that drowned all other sounds. 
 
 It was a complete victory for the military. The revolu- 
 tionaries had fled to hiding, leaving their casualties behind. 
 
 Orloff moved in a zigzag from one side of the street to the 
 other, crossing over to examine every line of bodies where 
 women were to be seen. From time to time his foot slipped 
 in a mess of thickening blood. Once or twice he stopped to 
 interrogate a doctor or one of the Red Cross men. An officer 
 of Cossacks, who had been observing him for some time, rode 
 up at last and asked him for his papers, saluted politely, and 
 let him pass, taking care, however, to keep him in sight. 
 
 From behind the houses on the eastern side Orloff could 
 hear the breakers from the Black Sea. 
 
 Fifteen seventeen nineteen a corner house. On the 
 pavement opposite lay a line of bodies. 
 
 Orloff hurried across. . . . 
 
 High above all the scattered, pitiful sounds of aftermath 
 one desperate cry cut through the air: 
 
 " Help 1" 
 
 Petya had flung himself down by Pashka's body Pashka, 
 that lay face upwards on the stones of the war-sullied slum, 
 with dead eyes staring horribly to heaven. Her face was 
 white, with a cold, transparent pallor, her dark brown hair 
 was loosed, flung forward over one shoulder. There was no 
 wound that he could see, but the childish features were drawn 
 stiff in a horror of death. 
 
 By her side lay Varya, her friend, her head cleft by a sabre 
 cut, her face half hidden by a thick brown mass of clotted 
 blood. 
 
 " Help 1" 
 
 Police and gendarmes came hurrying up. The Cossack 
 officer dismounted, and stepped up to Orloff, who held the 
 dead girl in his arms. 
 
 " Do you know this young woman ?" asked the officer. 
 " Did she belong to this thieves' haunt here ?"
 
 320 KATYA 
 
 " Help !" 
 
 " What help can we give you, Captain ? Come to your 
 senses, if you please. I could see there was something the 
 matter when I spoke to you before. Were you looking for 
 this girl ?" 
 
 Petya Orloff did not hear. His tears fell on the cold face, 
 his hand stroked back the wealth of hair, and piteously he 
 prayed her to come back to him and live. 
 
 " Pashka, little bird, I have come 1 Pashka, do not fear, 
 I will never leave you again 1" 
 
 The officer and the soldiers looked at each other. A 
 gendarme sniffed awkwardly, and said aloud: " Say what you 
 like, I'd be glad to have done with this business." 
 
 " Silence 1" commanded the officer. Then, laying a hand 
 on Orloff 's shoulder, he begged him again to be calm. 
 
 " I understand; you were fond of the girl. But there is 
 nothing to be done, Captain nothing. Misfortune would 
 have it that she should be sacrificed for the sake of these devils 
 of revolutionaries that shout for freedom and brotherhood, 
 and kill innocent women and children. ..." 
 
 " You lie !" shouted Orloff. As he turned he noticed that 
 his uniform held to Pashka's dress ; she had been wounded in 
 the breast by steel or shot, and the blood had oozed out, 
 making a dark patch. " You lie 1" he said again. " It is 
 you that have murdered her !" 
 
 White and trembling he stood and measured the other with 
 eyes of hate ; one hand clutched at the hilt of his sword. 
 
 " I do not know what this young woman was to you, 
 Captain Orloff, was it not ? But I presume that you have 
 lost a dear a very dear friend, and I pass over your last 
 words. ..." 
 
 " I am Captain Peotr Konstantinovitch Orloff, second in 
 command on board the Admiral Orloff. ..." 
 
 The soldiers drew themselves up with an involuntary move- 
 ment, and saluted. 
 
 "... And if you wish to call me to account for what I have 
 said you will know where to find me." 
 
 He turned to the men. " I wish the body of this girl to be 
 carried to my house this evening. Khersonskaya, fifty-one." 
 
 " I am sorry," said the officer firmly, " but it is impossible 
 for me to carry out your wishes. The Governor-General's
 
 A DAY OF BLOOD 321 
 
 orders are that all bodies are to be collected and with the 
 exception of those of the military transported to the 
 Municipal Hospital, where opportunity will be given for 
 identification to-morrow. Relations and friends will then, 
 subject to the permission of the authorities, be allowed to 
 remove them." 
 
 " No exception can be made ?" 
 
 " I am acting under instructions from the Governor-General, 
 as I have said. Speaking to an officer, that should be sufficient." 
 
 Orloff bent once more over Pashka's body, closed her eyes, 
 kissed the white forehead, and made the sign of the cross. 
 
 Then, saluting the officer of Cossacks, he crossed the street 
 to No. 21. No answer came to his knocking and ringing; it 
 seemed as though all life had been extinguished here, as in all 
 the other houses in Novaya Ekaterinskaya. 
 
 The Cossack officer approached once more. " Excuse me, 
 Captain, it looks as though I were personally annoying you, 
 but I am again only acting under orders. All communication 
 between the military and the residents in this quarter is 
 strictly forbidden. No one is to enter the houses which is 
 rather the opposite of what we had originally intended and 
 no one is to leave them before it has been proclaimed by sound 
 of drum. . . ." 
 
 " But this is sheer brutality. The poor folk who live here 
 are human beings after all, and they have their feelings." 
 
 The officer shrugged his shoulders. " I admit it is hard on 
 those whose dead and wounded lie out here. But the innocent 
 must suffer with the guilty, here as everywhere. These 
 revolutionary murderers have managed to win over a number 
 of men, both soldiers and men from the ships. And we are 
 not even allowed to fetch them out. We are to stand and 
 wait for them and it looks as though we might wait long." 
 
 " I am most anxious to find out a respectable family of 
 working people here in No. 21." 
 
 " Impossible, Captain. I beg you to believe that I feel it a 
 most painful duty thus to hinder you in every way . . . 
 a brother officer, and your name. . . . But unless you have 
 express permission from Prince Olenin there is nothing to be 
 done." 
 
 Again the two men saluted. Orloff turned back up the 
 slope to the plateau. The town here was as dead. The short 
 
 21
 
 322 KATYA 
 
 twilight gave place to night, but no lamps were lit, nor was 
 there light to be seen in any windows looking on the street. 
 Patrols of cavalry rode through the streets, crossing and 
 recrossing the town in all directions. 
 
 A day of blood drew sullenly away before the conscience of 
 the solemn night. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 FEVER 
 
 PRINCE OLENIN, Count Gavril Dolgoruki, and the Chief of 
 Police, with several Generals, and the Commanders of 
 the three battleships were assembled in Council in the 
 Governor-General's study. 
 
 From all sides information had been received by the authori- 
 ties to the effect that violent excitement was prevalent through- 
 out the town on account of the bloodshed of the previous day. 
 Complaints had been made by several of the Consuls that the 
 person and effects of peaceful foreigners had been attacked 
 during the street-fighting in the Jewish quarter. The popu- 
 lation in general protested loudly against the reckless 
 butchery in Peressip, which had cost the lives of hun- 
 dreds of innocent persons, without in any way contributing 
 to the maintenance of peace and order. Not a single revolu- 
 tionary leader had been killed, or even arrested. The efforts 
 of the gendarmes and the Cossacks had only affected persons 
 of no importance to the revolt who had been dragged into the 
 disturbance, being in reality only accidental units. The 
 attack made by the troops had been delivered without the 
 previous warning which the law demanded, and at a time 
 when unsuspecting women and children unintentionally 
 barred the way between the Cossacks and the revolutionaries. 
 As soon as the military had found themselves in undisputed 
 possession of the streets of Peressip, the order had been given 
 to stop all following-up of the dearly bought victory, and 
 it was this order which more than all else had roused the 
 indignation of the people and the soldiers themselves. The 
 authorities had let slip an opportunity of really exterminating 
 the leaders of the trouble, and all the innocent blood had been 
 shed to no purpose.
 
 FEVER 323 
 
 The affair had cost the troops something like a hundred 
 men, shot by hidden enemies from windows or other places of 
 concealment. Nearly all the dead and wounded, as well as 
 those who had been arrested, were found to be unarmed ; the 
 shots must have been fired from the windows or roofs. In 
 spite of this, however, the Governor-General lacked courage 
 at the last moment to give orders for a visitation of the houses 
 in the Novaya Ekaterinskaya and adjacent streets. Pam- 
 phlets, whose place of origin it had been impossible to dis- 
 cover, derided Prince Olenin for this weakness, and exhorted 
 the troops, in the name of the Tsar and their country, to 
 act next time on their own initiative. Other sheets, evidently 
 published by the " Intelligenti," openly incited fleet and army 
 to revolt. The officers of both services present at the Council 
 informed the Governor-General that the number of deserters 
 was increasing with giant strides. The Chief of Police 
 had experienced the same trouble, especially with the gen- 
 darmerie. 
 
 The deliberations lasted long. In particular, the whole 
 party were impressed by the statements of the Commander 
 of the Admiral Orloff. He could not, he said, distinctly prove 
 a single instance of open mutiny, but matters were evidently 
 taking a most suspicious course on board, and, worst of all, 
 the non-commissioned officers were in league with the men, 
 so that it was almost impossible to see what was really 
 going on. 
 
 " As to Your Highness's distinctly formulated question," 
 said the Commander, " I can give but one answer. I have 
 not my men satisfactorily in hand, and I cannot recommend 
 their further employment for the maintenance of peace and 
 order in the quarters about the harbour, or, indeed, advise 
 their landing. Had my second in command, Captain Orloff, 
 been here, matters might have been different. He has always 
 stood on a more than amicable footing with the men, and the 
 name he bears, with his manner generally, have gained him 
 extraordinary popularity and influence throughout the Black 
 Sea Squadron. But he is not here." 
 
 " Why is he not here ?" asked Prince Olenin. 
 
 The Commander and Count Dolgoruki explained the 
 situation. 
 
 " Orloff should have returned yesterday," went on the
 
 324 KATYA 
 
 Commander. " He has not appeared, however, nor have I 
 heard anything of him. Possibly the disorganization of the 
 railway service has hindered his return." 
 
 " Highly probable," put in Count Dolgoruki. " It is several 
 days now since I heard from my wife, who was staying at 
 Priluka with Peotr Konstantinovitch. And she writes every 
 day." 
 
 The Commander of the Admiral Orloff suggested that per- 
 mission should be given for him to put to sea for a week. 
 This might possibly improve the discipline on board, and 
 would in any case keep the men beyond the reach of further 
 prejudicial influence. His suggestion was, however, em- 
 phatically opposed. No portion of the armed force at hand 
 could, under the circumstances, be dispensed with, and it would 
 be impossible to say what might be the effect on all sections 
 of the population if the Admiral Orloff were seen leaving the 
 roads. 
 
 " I am at Your Highness's orders," said the Commander, 
 " and can only obey. I take the liberty, however, to remind 
 Your Highness, with all respect, that I have given fair warning 
 of what I fear." 
 
 After long deliberation the Council arrived at its decision, 
 which bore evident mark of Prince Olenin's influence. 
 
 As a sort of concession to public opinion arrangements 
 would be made for burial of the killed both those from 
 the Greek and Jewish quarters and those from Peressip at 
 the expense of the city. Permission would also be given for 
 friends and relations to follow the bodies in procession, but 
 no demonstration of any kind was to be made. In case of 
 trouble the troops were to remain under arms, ready to turn 
 out at a moment's notice. Owing to the fact that Odessa's 
 two regular but unwelcome annual guests the cholera and 
 the bubonic plague had already made their appearance, the 
 funeral was to take place on the morning of the following day. 
 
 At the same time, however, the Council was resolved to 
 proceed with the utmost severity in all cases of revolutionary 
 activity, whatever its origin or object. Any further attempt 
 at persecution of the Jews would be sternly repressed, even 
 though made in the name of the Church, the country, and the 
 Tsar. At the slightest sign of disturbance in Peressip or other 
 quarters occupied by the " Intelligent! " and the incendiary
 
 FEVER 325 
 
 element from the harbour the wards in question \vould be 
 surrounded and occupied by the troops, so that none could 
 escape. Anyone found bearing arms was to be arrested and 
 brought before the court-martial, or in case of resistance to 
 be shot without parley. Houses in which revolutionaries 
 had sought refuge were to be searched until the fugitives were 
 found. Any persons housing such would share the fate of 
 disturbers of the peace. The fire brigade was to be placed 
 under the orders of the military, and would be expected to 
 render any assistance that might be demanded, also with 
 regard to the capture of criminals. A considerable sum of 
 money was placed at the disposal of the Chief of Police for 
 distribution among constables and gendarmes in consideration 
 of their augmented duties. A large amount was also voted to 
 the Secret Service Fund. 
 
 Only officers and officials of the highest standing had been 
 present at the Governor-General's Council. Nevertheless a 
 few hours later the first news of Prince Olenin's resolutions 
 had reached a little circle of men who sat in a barely furnished 
 room in the Novaya Ekaterinskaya. Before evening these 
 men had learned every slightest detail of any importance in 
 the plans of the civil and military authorities. 
 
 Old Andrei, the dvornik at Khersonskaya 51, was talking 
 to his wife. 
 
 " It is past noon, Arina," he said, " and we have seen 
 nothing of him since he came home last night more dead 
 than alive. I don't like it, Arina. It's not natural. It's all 
 very well for you to sit and cry over Pashka and Varya, poor 
 things I don't say a word against it; but we should think 
 of the living of the living, Arina." 
 
 " The Captain is asleep. For Heaven's sake, Andrei, let 
 him sleep as long as he can. It will be no joy for him to wake 
 to his sorrow and loneliness." 
 
 Andrei shrugged his shoulders and went about his work. 
 An hour later he came in and began afresh. " I don't like it, 
 Arina," he said again; "it's not natural." After much dis- 
 cussion the honest couple agreed that if Captain Orloff had 
 not made his appearance by two o'clock Arina was to go up 
 with some tea and a bite of food. " Poor fellow !" she said 
 pityingly; " there's no one to look after him now."
 
 326 KATYA 
 
 But at two o'clock, when still no sign of life had come, Andrei 
 found it impossible to wait longer. He went up with Arina. 
 
 Opening the door of the little flat with their own 
 key, the two stole into the bedroom. Orloff lay on the bed, 
 fully dressed and sleeping heavily. He had evidently flung 
 himself down there as he was, on his return the previous 
 evening. 
 
 Andrei and Arina exchanged glances, hesitating as to what 
 was to be done. After some moments, however, the old 
 dvornik returned to his former view. " I don't like it, Arina; 
 it's not natural." And, going up to the bed, he touched 
 Orloff on the arm. 
 
 " Your Honour, it is past two o'clock. . . ." 
 
 Petya opened his eyes and looked about him uncompre- 
 hendingly. " Katya . . ." he stammered, and a moment after, 
 " Pashka, little bird. ..." Then he closed his eyes and 
 seemed to sleep again. 
 
 " I told you to let him sleep," whispered Arina. But Petya 
 caught the sound of her voice, and without opening his eyes 
 he asked, " Who's there ? What is it ?" Then suddenly he 
 sat up and put his hands to his head. 
 
 " Is Your Honour ill ?" asked Arina kindly. " You look 
 sadly enough. I've brought some tea it will do Your Honour 
 good." 
 
 Petya was looking dully at his own clothes. " Have I slept 
 in these things all night ?" he asked. " I remember ah, 
 God !" The tears were pouring down his cheeks. " What a 
 sight ! And the air is awful open the window !" Then 
 suddenly he gave a shriek, and wrenched at the breast of his 
 uniform. " Blood !" he cried " blood ! Merciful God, it is 
 more than I can bear !" 
 
 He sprang up and began tearing off his clothes. " Take it 
 away burn it I will not see it ! And bring some water. . . . 
 Andrei, my friend, it's good of you to help me. . . . Bring 
 water water no, more, much more !" 
 
 The long, heavy sleep had cooled his fever somewhat, but 
 it was still smouldering in his veins; he felt the water icy cold. 
 The old couple helped him as well as they could, and Arina, 
 who had not seen him the day before, wept anew over Pashka's 
 death and the Captain's trouble, which had left such mark 
 upon his face.
 
 FEVER 327 
 
 As soon as he had dressed and swallowed a little tea, Orloff 
 set out for the Municipal Hospital. He walked unsteadily; 
 here and there some street boys jeered ; ladies moved anxiously 
 out of his way. Now and then giddiness seized him, and he 
 was forced to lean against the house walls for support. Passing 
 a florist's on his way, he entered, and bought all the white 
 roses that were to be had; they weighed on his arm like 
 lead. 
 
 To-day again his way led through the Konnaya, and the 
 sight of General Karatayef's house woke a fury of passion in 
 his mind. But his thoughts seemed to stumble, as it were; 
 he knew himself that he was not clear in his mind. For the 
 second time in his life those grey walls by the Black Sea had 
 seen the death of the thing he loved. There it was that the 
 hawk had swooped upon the defenceless bird and hacked the 
 heart out of its breast. Cursed, ten times accursed, that 
 deathly mass that had crushed his happiness. . . . And how 
 could Pashka ever dare to go there she knew how Katya 
 hated those grey walls. , . . Poor, poor Katya, alone and for- 
 saken. . . . Shot through the heart as she went to seek her 
 only friend. . . -. 
 
 Orloff sat down upon a step. He told himself that his 
 mind was wandering, and that he had better go back home. 
 But he wanted to say farewell to Pashka and make arrange- 
 ments for her burial. There were her parents, too, in Sevas- 
 topol; they must be informed, as well as Katya and General 
 Karatayef. . . . Again that stupid singing in his ears; im- 
 possible to say which one of him was thinking sensibly and 
 which was raving. , . , And where was that other one, that 
 Petya Orloff, whose voice he could hear all the time breaking 
 his own thoughts with vain, foolish talk. . . . 
 
 A policeman came up. " Pardon, Captain, you are not well, 
 it seems. Shall I fetch a carriage for Your Honour ?" 
 
 " Thanks, my friend, that is no doubt the best thing. I 
 was only taking some flowers to Pashka. But they have 
 murdered her, you know down there in those accursed 
 houses. ..." 
 
 He put his hands to his head. The policeman went off and 
 returned a moment later with a cab. 
 
 " Might I ask Your Honour's address ?" 
 
 " Novaya Ekaterinskaya, twenty one, fourth floor, right."
 
 328 KATYA 
 
 The policeman looked at him astonished. " I beg pardon, 
 Your Honour, but is that not a mistake ?" 
 
 " What did I say, my friend ? Forgive me, I am not well, 
 I think. A little fever . * . it is so cold to-day . . . and the 
 light hurts my eyes." 
 
 " Should we drive Your Honour to the Naval Hospital ?" 
 
 " No, no. I will go home and rest a little . . . and then 
 the flowers to little Pashka. It is close by Khersonskaya, 
 fifty-one; Andrei, the dvornik, will know. , . .." 
 
 The policeman accompanied Orloff to the house, and with 
 Andrei's help supported him up the stairs. Arina had put 
 the bedroom in order. 
 
 Petya gave the policeman some money. " Tell me, friend," 
 he said, " the Municipal Hospital is not closed before sunset ? 
 The bodies from Peressip, you know, one can go and see them 
 this afternoon ?" 
 
 The man shook his head. As far as he knew the bodies 
 were already coffined. The hot weather, and the cholera 
 and plague . . . they were to be buried to-morrow. He told 
 what he knew of the Governor-General's orders. " The rest will 
 be published in the official paper this evening ; Your Honour 
 can read it there." 
 
 Orloff told Andrei to get the paper as soon as it appeared. 
 The policeman offered to fetch a doctor. This, however, 
 Petya would not have. Behind the maze of his troubled 
 thoughts was yet a clear recollection of one resolution he had 
 made the night before: to free himself entirely for the short 
 space of time he intended to live. Nothing was more indiffer- 
 ent to him now than his service and its duties; he would not 
 risk the interference of anyone connected with the authorities, 
 not even a doctor, who might disturb his few and simple 
 plans. There was his will to be made now, after Pashka's 
 death, in favour of her parents; letters of farewell to Katya 
 and his sister Olga; and then at last the kindly bullet the 
 rest and peace of death. 
 
 " After all," he said, trying to smile, " there's nothing 
 much the matter. A touch of fever, nothing more. We 
 settle that on board with a little quinine and a glass of vodka. 
 I'll send Andrei for the quinine, the vodka he has, no doubt." 
 
 They left him then, and he undressed and got into bed. 
 It was good to rest one's head a little for an hour and wrap
 
 FEVER 329 
 
 oneself up warmly against the unnatural cold. Later on he 
 would go out to the hospital. . . . 
 
 Petya dozed off. Now and again he half woke, his teeth 
 chattering with cold ; at other times the heat was suffocating 
 and the bedclothes seemed an intolerable weight. His throat 
 was hard and dry with thirst, yet he could not lift an arm to 
 take the water at his side. And all the time he was haunted 
 by the idea that he was two a Petya sane, and one most 
 troublously mad. Which of them was it that felt a freezing 
 fear gripping his heart ? Strange to look thus into one's own 
 harried soul, as though observing the torture of another. 
 Poor Katya, shot through the heart poor helpless bird, 
 dashing herself to death against grey walls on the shores of 
 the Black Sea. Help ! You lie, you devil, you have mur- 
 dered her and she was all I had. . . . Katya, how could 
 you ! You left me to perish, and you never cared gave 
 yourself to that other because he was near at hand. . . . 
 Katya . . . Katya see how you have steered ! . . . 
 
 Andrei came up with quinine, and Arina brought more tea. 
 Little by little Petya's strong body threw off the fever's 
 burning weight. When Andrei came up later in the evening 
 with the papers he saw that Orloff was asleep again, his hands 
 and face dewed now with sweat. The old man and his wife 
 relieved each other at watch by the sick man's bed. They 
 knew they could not comfort him in his trouble, and felt 
 themselves that their little help weighed nothing in the scale, 
 but kindly instinct bade them do what they could, giving such 
 service as poor folk might yield to a poor sick Barin who had 
 always been kind. . . . God help all those who sorrowed and 
 suffered ill. ... 
 
 It was full night when Petya woke, weak now and heavy, 
 yet freed from the harrying war of conflicting thoughts. His 
 fingers sought for matches to see the time. 
 
 " Your Honour is awake ? Is it better now ?" 
 
 " You here, Andrei ? That's good of you, my friend. You 
 are kindly souls indeed. I thank you both." 
 
 His hand closed on the paper which lay on the coverlet, and 
 the touch called him back to all the unreal-seeming horror of 
 reality. 
 
 Andrei brought water and more quinine; his eyes filled as 
 he saw how Orloff strove to keep his trouble back.
 
 330 KATYA 
 
 " Now, what was it, Andrei, we were to look for in 
 that paper ? It seems so long ago we spoke about it 
 long ago." 
 
 Andrei moved the candle, and Orloff began to read. A 
 lengthy exhortation, preaching peace and order . . . some 
 attempt to represent the fighting of yesterday as empty 
 demonstrations of slight importance, which had been effec- 
 tively crushed by the resolute action of the authorities . . . 
 a general invitation to the townsfolk to offer active assistance 
 in case of further breaches of the peace by criminal offenders 
 against their country and the Tsar ... a proclamation an- 
 nouncing the institution of martial law, and the swift, uncere- 
 monial measures that would be taken against all found guilty 
 of direct or indirect connection with the revolutionaries , . * 
 finally, a detailed account of the arrangements made for the 
 funerals en masse, to take place the following day at the 
 cemeteries of the different faiths. 
 
 " Relations and friends will be permitted to join the proces- 
 sion." Farther on it said: " None but the priests officiating 
 will be allowed to speak at the interment." And the notice 
 dosed with threats of severest punishment for any who by 
 what means soever attempted demonstration on the occasion. 
 
 Orloff let the paper fall and closed his eyes. So he would 
 not see her again after all. Out there on the blood-stained 
 pavement of that hellish slum he had held her for the last 
 time in his arms, and said his last thanks for her faithful 
 comradeship and service, her childish, tender love through all 
 those lonely years. . . . Pashka his little shy bird, the 
 gentle child, his friend, that murderers had taken. . . . Peace 
 with her pure soul. They should meet now, soon, and where 
 no murderers could come. . . . 
 
 " Andrei," said Petya to the old man, " I am a friend of 
 Paskha, and I am going to the funeral. Tell Arina to wake 
 me at eight if I am not up I am heavy and sleepy still and 
 my uniform full dress. I will follow the coffin from the 
 hospital to the cemetery." 
 
 " Heaven bless Your Honour. Such goodness ! Pashka 
 had never dreamed . . ." 
 
 " Never mind about that, Andrei. You don't know. . . ." 
 
 " Admiral Orloff 's son and in full dress ! I know what I 
 think, Your Honour, and what all the town will think. . . .
 
 FEVER 331 
 
 It's easy to see Your Honour's heart is little changed for all 
 the illness. ..." 
 
 " Andrei, give me some more quinine, and get to bed your- 
 self. I will not forget your goodness, both of you. Heaven 
 reward you for it, my friend." 
 
 Arina had filled what she could find of vases and jugs with 
 the white roses for Pashka's bier. The flowers hung their 
 heads on the slender stalks, their perfume came and went in 
 waves through the room where Petya Orloff glided through 
 tears to sleep in the summer night. No one in all the world 
 now needed him; no one there was now to protect or serve. 
 No one that cared for all his love; no one that had a crumb 
 of hope to give his hungering loneliness no light, no life, 
 nor any need. . . . His earliest friend, the good Princess, was 
 dead; the little shy bird who had found a home in his arm? 
 had been murdered by those devils of hell. . . . And a stranger 
 had taken Katya when he thought her nearest, when she 
 should have paid his life-long, patient love. . . . Katya, to 
 find it in her heart . . . 
 
 So Petya Orloff took his leave of life life that had proved 
 so sadly little worth. And still, above all misery of heart, all 
 horror of grim death, rose General Karatayef's monument of 
 victory the grey, gigantic gravestone by the shores of the 
 Black Sea. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 
 
 BY far the greater part of those who had fallen in the fighting 
 at Peressip belonged to the Orthodox Church, and the train of 
 those who had collected to follow the bodies to the grave was 
 enormous. To the crowds that had stood waiting since the 
 dawn outside the Municipal Hospital were added, as the day 
 wore on, a host of others, until the mass numbered some 
 fifteen or twenty thousand souls. The factories were 
 deserted; down at the harbour all was still and desolately 
 inactive, as on a holiday. Shops and banks were closed; 
 the great sea city lay, as it were, under a cloud of solemn 
 presage and ill omen. 
 The police and gendarmes who had been stationed at
 
 332 KATYA 
 
 the hospital to keep order were lost in the crowd, and the few 
 posts were entirely isolated. There seemed, however, to be 
 no need for them. The body of some thousand men that 
 formed the immediate following behind the coffins maintained 
 exemplary order. There was some crushing and confusion 
 on the outskirts of the procession, especially at street corners, 
 where numbers of new arrivals added themselves to the 
 train. But the disorder did not spread. The self-constituted 
 guard in rear of the hearses resisted every pressure. Silently, 
 and with the compact solidity of irresilient discipline it moved 
 forward, unobtrusively ridding itself on the way of such 
 police as had originally been placed among its ranks. It 
 seemed a mighty machine, moving mechanically forward, and 
 flinging all refuse behind. 
 
 The whole of the mighty mass appeared inspired by a unani- 
 mous obedience to one inviolable command: to give no 
 slightest pretext for the interference of the military. No one 
 voiced the order; all obeyed it. No faintest sound was heard 
 from all the following thousands save the billowing tramp of 
 feet upon the stones. Of all were few that spoke, and every 
 word that passed was but a whisper. An almost supernatural 
 sense of happenings to come had seized and held the marching 
 mass that seemed but blindly waiting for exfoliation of the 
 unborn event. 
 
 Reports were continually sent in to Prince Olenin at short 
 intervals. Always the same: Numbers still increasing; 
 columns of workmen joining the procession; all apparently 
 acting upon secret orders; irreproachable order everywhere. 
 
 As soon as the hearses, with their immediate guard, in- 
 cluding the officiating priests, had turned in to the cemetery 
 the Chief of Police telephoned personally to Prince Olenin : 
 
 "Something is going to happen; I am certain of that. 
 What it is I cannot say. When it comes, the police and 
 gendarmes will be powerless; we cannot even maintain con- 
 nection between the different posts. If we are to remain 
 masters of the situation there is but one way: the cavalry 
 must charge and disperse the crowd. But there is not the 
 slightest excuse for such action as things now are." 
 
 " Where do they came from, all these people ? The order 
 said friends and relations." 
 
 " All have declared themselves to be such."
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 333 
 
 " Have the machine-guns ready. The Cossacks and 
 Dragoons are ready to move out at a moment's notice. The 
 next report should be here in a moment." 
 
 Those who from roofs and windows watched the train 
 remarked the presence of a naval officer in full dress among 
 the body immediately following the hearses; he walked 
 between two old people, apparently a decent working couple. 
 Some even pretended to recognize him as Captain Orloff, 
 Admiral Konstantin Orloff 's son. The most, however, of 
 those who noticed him were at a loss to guess who it might 
 be, or what any naval officer at all was doing in a procession 
 which everyone of rank or any position in the place most 
 carefully avoided. 
 
 In the cemetery the inexplicable happened. Not a single 
 policeman or gendarme succeeded in reaching or even ap- 
 proaching the common grave. The force which had been 
 posted there was first dissolved into single units, and then 
 forced back into the crowd and swallowed up. The hastily 
 summoned reserves found it impossible to force their way 
 beyond the outskirts of the mass. The Chief of Police himself, 
 accompanied by a couple of constables, managed to penetrate 
 some distance in, only to find all further progress barred by 
 the wall of the voluntary guard. He asked politely to be 
 allowed to pass. No one answered him. When he raised his 
 voice it was received with hisses demanding silence. He 
 gave a signal whistle, which was followed by some ripples of 
 disturbance here and there among the close-packed crowd 
 which had flooded the whole area of the place, blotting out 
 every path. A moment later all was still, the voices of the 
 choir raised in anthem sounding as in a church. There were 
 no more signal whistles now; the Chief of Police and three of 
 his men lay strangled under the immovable ranks of the 
 ruthless, silent guard. 
 
 The plaintive, piteous rhythm of the anthem thrilled on the 
 sun -rilled air; thousands of hands made humbly the sign of 
 the cross. 
 
 The isolated units of police in the close-packed crowd 
 nearest the grave were gently relieved of their weapons. At 
 the slightest sign of resistance they were pressed to the ground 
 and quietly strangled. 
 
 The priests moved in procession round the grave, swinging
 
 334 KATYA 
 
 censers and sprinkling holy water. The two old folk, Varya's 
 parents, were weeping bitterly by Orloff's side. Orloff him- 
 self had given his grief full way, and stood hiding his face in 
 his hands. 
 
 From the outskirts of the mass, where the police had 
 gradually collected in force, the same report was once more 
 despatched: "All quiet; perfect order everywhere." 
 
 The plain wood coffins of uniform fashion were lowered 
 one by one into the grave, the priests casting earth on each. 
 
 " Dear God !" cried the old woman at Petya's side, " I 
 cannot see which of them all is hers. I cannot see my own 
 child's coffin put into the grave !" 
 
 Many were sobbing now without restraint; the sounds of 
 sorrow rose above the chanted prayers and the fall of scattering 
 earth. 
 
 Orloff held his breath a moment, as though seeking to win 
 his self-control again ; he clenched his hands so violently that 
 his one glove split at the seam. A whirl of thoughts danced 
 wildly in his brain; there was fever still in his blood, at once 
 stupefying and enraging. He could not understand, himself, 
 the conflict in his mind between the furious desire to let his 
 bitterness and anger loose in action and the weary longing for 
 the peace of death. Here, by this grave, he stood among 
 those beings to whom he of right belonged the hunted and 
 oppressed, the lonely and the helpless. His heart was full of 
 sympathy for these poor outcasts ; he longed to tell them so, 
 and make them hear. It seemed as though the way to peace 
 lay through avenging the wrong that had been dealt himself 
 and those about him. 
 
 Many eyes were fixed on Petya Orloff. From the early 
 morning, when he had taken his place in the waiting crowd 
 behind the hearses, and sought out Varya's parents to offer 
 kindly sympathy as of a son, the onlookers had felt well 
 disposed towards him. Sailors in mufti, who had joined 
 the revolutionaries, recognized him; his name passed from 
 mouth to mouth among the chosen thousand men who formed 
 the heart and centre of the insurgent army. What did he 
 want ? What was his intention ? He was treated with the 
 deepest respect, and way was made wherever he wished to pass. 
 But none save Varya's parents spoke to him. They would 
 let him follow out his own idea if he had any. Were he there
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 335 
 
 ag an enemy they had little to fear from him; if as a friend, 
 then he would be worth more than many thousand of their 
 own rank. 
 
 The fall of earth had ceased, and the voices of the choir 
 poured out a requiem. The words were lost; the tones made 
 all hearts thrill. 
 
 Petya Orloff saw again the picture of Pashka as he last had 
 seen her, his little shy bird with the gentle eyes, flung down 
 upon the bloody pavement of a slum, struck to the heart as 
 she went out to seek her only friend. Those miscreants, 
 murderers of men and robbers of men's little joy in life, won 
 power and honour. No one to judge them, no one to protect 
 the weak and poor. . . . 
 
 The requiem ended ; priests and choir passed down from the 
 boarded mound beside the grave. The ranks of the guard 
 opened to let them pass, and closed again. There was a 
 moment of expectant silence; the crowd, still perfectly con- 
 trolled, seemed waiting some command. 
 
 With a sudden movement Petya Orloff sprang forward; 
 next moment he was standing on the mound, visible now to 
 the outermost of the crowd. The sun flashed on the metal 
 of his lace and orders, his face was pale, the hands that clasped 
 his sword-hilt trembled. 
 
 " Brothers and friends ! I am a man as yourselves one of 
 the suffering. ..." 
 
 His voice broke. Many could see that he was speaking; 
 only a few of those nearest heard what he said. A confusion 
 of cries went up from the crowd: " Who is he ?" " What is 
 an officer doing here ?" " Is it true that he is Admiral Orloff 's 
 son ?" " Be silent ; he is a good man !" " Let us at least hear 
 what he has to say 1" 
 
 The pressure from without was growing violent. A quiet 
 order was passed round among the thousand of the guard, 
 and the compact body bore a little backward, presenting a 
 buffer to the force behind. 
 
 Orloff gazed as through a mist at rank on rank of faces 
 turned towards him. But he felt no fear. One thought he 
 held, unshaken by the roar of interruption: he must exert 
 the utmost of his will and power to force upon these people 
 the conviction that he was one of them from that hour. 
 
 Raising his voice to the limit of control, he went on :
 
 336 KATYA 
 
 " Some of you know what man my father was. Had 
 Admiral Orloff but been living now, he, and not I, would have 
 stood here by this grave where our brothers and sisters lie. 
 They are at rest, but all their life was lived in struggle and 
 persecution. The whip of wrong has lashed them from their 
 first days, but even this was not enough for those that tor- 
 tured them the Cossacks came with shot and steel. ..." 
 
 The crowd was breathing like an angry beast. Orloff flung 
 out a hand and continued : 
 
 " They have brought shame upon our country. Believe 
 me or not as you will, I say to you that I have felt it shame 
 to bear this uniform. ... I put it on to-day to honour a poor 
 child of the people whom I loved ; and she is there a name- 
 less one among the nameless hundreds. . . . But it would be 
 small honour if the man himself were not prepared to do all 
 in his power in defence of right and faith, to protect the weak 
 and help the poor. ..." 
 
 A storm of furious applause broke from the crowd. But 
 Orloff stamped upon the echoing boards, and almost shrieked 
 out his demand for silence. 
 
 " I say, be silent, if you do not wish me to turn away also 
 from you ! Brothers, I am a man who suffers as yourselves. 
 As God hears me in this hour my hands are clean. They are 
 not soiled with any ill-earned gold, nor stained with blood of 
 men weaker than myself; I am hunted and persecuted as you. 
 My hope is broken, as my youth was crushed, by the power 
 of wealth. And murderers, who take the name of the Tsar in 
 vain, have stolen from me the child that was the one thing 
 left to me in my loneliness. ... I did not come to tell you of 
 myself; I come to speak of us. Those great ones who rule 
 would have forbidden us to speak to-day because our hearts 
 are bleeding at our loss and burning with our wrong. But 
 there is no power in Russia that shall hinder us from crying, 
 till it reach the very throne, our claim for punishment !" 
 
 Again the feelings of the mass broke loose in thunderous 
 enthusiasm that bore the speaker now beyond all conscious- 
 ness of space and time, lifting him as a wind beneath spread 
 wings. 
 
 "We ask for punishment; we ask for justice freedom! 
 The country that is ours shall not be given over to the ruthless 
 play of leaders without conscience. The people, that is our-
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 337 
 
 selves, shall not be crushed beneath the weight of ill-won 
 power misused. We pray to God for our Father the Tsar 
 and we pray the Tsar to hear us, his children, who suffer 
 without his knowing or his will. He shall hear how we cry 
 our wrongs aloud from this open grave, but he shall hear, too, 
 that we promise him the help of a faithful people to free the 
 land from its worst enemies. ..." 
 
 Here and there went up a hostile shout. The feeling of the 
 people was beginning to grow uncertain. The movement and 
 confusion on the outskirts increased. But Orloff had no ears 
 save for his own words. . . . 
 
 " Friends, we know that, poor as we are, we have yet 
 hearts to love. We have shown the great ones of the land 
 how we could bear the burden of suffering they have laid 
 upon us. Now let them learn that our arms are strong to 
 fight " 
 
 He stood staring before him, as though seeking words with 
 which to proceed. Among those nearest to him all was still, 
 but farther out the waves of unrest grew tempestuous. Orloff 
 felt himself weakening, and strove in vain to hold some order 
 in the maze of thoughts that sprang to life and vanished in his 
 wearied mind. 
 
 " Brothers . . . my friends . . . use me if you will. I do 
 not ask to be a leader ... I am not much good for anything. 
 But let me row with you; row hard . . . and I suffer as you. 
 . . . Ah, God, I have suffered and waited you do not 
 know. . . .." 
 
 Petya Orloff covered his face with his hands, and staggered 
 away from the open grave, shaken with sobs, and never 
 heeding the way he took. 
 
 Wild shouts and shrieks arose, coming nearer. " The Cos- 
 sacks ! the Cossacks ! Help hurry help the Cossacks 
 come !" 
 
 The thousand of the guard stood like a wall. Not one 
 moved hand or foot. 
 
 " Captain Orloff " a voice was whispering in Petya's ear 
 " we believe that you have meant every word of what you 
 have said. But by yourself you can do nothing. Follow me 
 to the carriage that is waiting at one of the gates ; I will bring 
 you into safety, and within an hour you shall be assigned a 
 task worthy of your name, and of your sufferings. But
 
 338 KATYA 
 
 there is no time to lose you must answer now. Is it 
 yes or no ?" 
 
 " Who are you ?" asked Orloff. 
 
 " My name does not matter. Call me Leonid Petrovitch 
 Pravdin. Your answer ?" 
 
 " Good. I will go with you." 
 
 The close ranks opened a little, letting Orloff and his com- 
 panion pass, locking again as soon as they had gone. 
 
 The man who had called himself Pravdin went first, 
 shouldering his way through the crowd, and making his way 
 round behind the great grave. Orloff had stood facing the 
 opposite way ; no one could tell that he was the same who had 
 spoken. The few police and gendarmes on the outskirts of 
 the mass had been unable to see or hear; all saluted Orloff 
 with deep respect. 
 
 At a little gateway opening on to the street that separates 
 the Orthodox cemetery from the plague burial-ground a line 
 of cabs was waiting. Pravdin made a sign to Orloff to hurry. 
 The cab drove off, turning into one of the deserted back 
 streets of the Moldavanka quarter. Scarcely twenty minutes 
 had passed since Petya Orloff had stepped down from the 
 mound beside the grave. 
 
 The open carriage stopped at a tenement building in a narrow 
 street, and Pravdin, who had not spoken during tfee drive, 
 bade Orloff follow him. A few moments later they stood in a 
 room devoid of all furniture save a couple of small hand- 
 presses and some cases of type, Pravdin locked the door 
 carefully. 
 
 " Captain Orloff," he said, motioning his guest to a seat 
 upon a heap of printing paper, " every minute now is precious; 
 you will excuse me therefore if I express myself briefly. If 
 you are the man your words to-day proclaim you, and of whom 
 I have heard from those who have served under you, we shall 
 not be long in coming to an understanding." 
 
 " Who are you, Leonid Petrovitch ?" 
 
 " A man who has devoted his life to the cause of the people; 
 of freedom." 
 
 " How can I serve you and your cause ?" 
 
 " They are fighting at this moment in the churchyard. The 
 Cossacks are cutting into the crowd nearest the main entrance. 
 And you are responsible, Captain Orloff."
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 339 
 
 "//" 
 
 " You and no other. I do not suppose that either Olenin 
 or Dolgoruki as yet can be aware that it was you who spoke 
 in the revolutionaries' cause at the funeral. I make no 
 mistake, I think, in recollection that you declared yourself 
 one of us. One thing, however, is certain: the authorities 
 have discovered that an officer has made a speech, in spite of 
 their express prohibition and that has given them the excuse 
 to call out the Cossacks the very excuse which we were doing 
 all in our power to avoid giving them." 
 
 " My God what have I done 1 All that I do is turned to 
 disaster for those I care for, those I would protect! ..." 
 
 Petya had risen, and was pacing excitedly up and down the 
 littered, dirty floor. 
 
 Pravdin watched him for a while in silence. 
 
 " You ask what you have done, Captain Orloff. I will tell 
 you. Your action to-day will be remembered for many 
 generations. You have spoken words which no leader of the 
 people could better have chosen or pronounced. But you are 
 no leader, Captain Orloff; you are a good and honest man, a 
 man of strong feelings, and I understand that you must have 
 suffered much. Your speech ended in a personal confession, 
 in tears. The effect which I and my nearest companions had 
 been expecting did not come far from it. Your hearers were 
 more hostile to you at the close than they had been when you 
 began. But all that will be forgotten. Posterity will remem- 
 ber only that you stood forth in full uniform, by the grave 
 of the unknown poor, to offer yourself to the cause of the 
 oppressed." 
 
 " But now ! The responsibility for these poor creatures 
 that are being butchered now by the Cossacks, just as in those 
 accursed houses. ..." 
 
 " The responsibility you must bear, Captain Orloff. But I 
 offer you a means by which you may so bear it that your name 
 shall go down through Russian history in ineffaceable glory." 
 
 "I do not seek glory only peace, peace for myself and 
 those who suffer. ..." 
 
 " When you this morning took your place in the procession 
 all was long since prepared to make this day the greatest that 
 Odessa has ever seen. It was no funeral train with which 
 you marched, Captain Orloff, but an army. Scarcely a man
 
 340 KATYA 
 
 of all those near you but was armed. I do not hesitate to 
 tell you this, Peotr Konstantinovitch. If our plans fail to-day, 
 then I know what my life is worth as much as yours, the 
 moment you leave your hiding here." 
 
 " You mean to say . . . ?" 
 
 " I mean that all the police who can be spared are searching 
 for you. But of that we will speak later. I said the men 
 about you were armed. It is our intention and it will be 
 carried out, whichever way you throw your single weight to 
 make ourselves masters of Odessa to-day, and proclaim a 
 Republic. ..." 
 
 " Republic ! Madness 1 I will never consent. . . ." 
 
 " Let us not quarrel about a word neither you nor I have 
 time to lose. What we demand is a free Constitution which 
 gives the people its due right. . . ." 
 
 " That is quite another thing." 
 
 " But that we will have. The guard that surrounded the 
 coffins and the priests will see that the nearest relations of 
 the fallen escape by the road we took, without being involved 
 in the fighting for which you, Captain Orloff, gave the signal 
 before we wished." 
 
 " Man, you are torturing me ! For Heaven's sake, speak 
 out !" 
 
 " I tell you the truth as it is, Peotr Konstantinovitch, that 
 you may take the consequences of your own action. I do not 
 know what my comrades will determine under the somewhat 
 altered circumstance due to your speech and the subsequent 
 attack by the Cossacks. But I know that our plan will in the 
 main be carried out in one form or another or fail. Already 
 the telegraph-line is cut some ten verst north of the town; 
 the railway, too, is effectively broken, so that no troops can 
 arrive from outside before it is too late. Almost the whole of 
 two infantry regiments are ready to go over to us as soon as 
 they get the signal. Nearly one-third of the gendarmerie 
 have deserted already or will do so during the day. We have 
 still the police against us but the Chief of Police was put 
 out of the way this morning." 
 
 Orloff stepped back a pace with an expression of horror. 
 The other shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Nothing can be done without bloodshed, Captain Orloff 
 as you yourself would be forced to admit if you were in the
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 341 
 
 cemetery at this moment. But I have more to say and some- 
 thing which I imagine will interest you. The great majority 
 of the warrant officers and crew of the Admiral Orloff have 
 been won over to the cause of the people. When the first 
 shots from the town are heard on board the vessel that bears 
 your father's name, the Commander and his officers will be 
 placed under a guard, and the cruiser will be in our hands." 
 
 Petya Orloff raised his arms as one fearing to fall. The 
 room seemed turning. " Are you playing with me ?" he 
 stammered . 
 
 " You have caused us considerable anxiety, Captain Orloff. 
 We knew that you had been absent for some time, and knowing 
 your influence with the men, we were uneasy at the possibility 
 of your returning and placing obstacles in our way. But 
 now," he added, with a smile, " I think we have managed to 
 convert you also. All our anxiety disappeared when we saw 
 you this morning. We had you in our power, and your speech 
 showed us what we had never dreamed, that you were even 
 on our side. Welcome in our ranks, Peotr Konstantinovitch ! 
 In the name of the people I offer you command of the Admiral 
 Orloff." 
 
 Petya was walking up and down staring at the floor. After 
 a while he stopped. " What do you ask of me ?" he said, 
 turning towards Pravdin. 
 
 " Nothing more than that you keep your word, to protect 
 the weak and help the poor." 
 
 " But this is rebellion mutiny. . . ." 
 
 " Do you think that the weak and the poor, whom the 
 Cossacks are now cutting down out there in the cemetery, 
 can be protected, helped, by splendid words and some few 
 tears shed by an open grave ?" 
 
 " But my name my position as an officer. . . ." 
 
 " I am sorry to have troubled you, Peotr Konstantinovitch. 
 You can leave the room as soon as you wish. The key is 
 there." He pointed to the door. 
 
 Orloff leaned against the wall, looking down. 
 
 " How am I to get on board ?" he said at last. " You 
 said yourself that the police. . . ." 
 
 " Nothing easier. But what can it help us to get you on 
 board, Peotr Konstantinovitch, when you break your word? 
 ' Use me if you will. ... / do not ask to be a leader . . .
 
 342 KATYA 
 
 but let me row with you. . . .' You have soon forgotten, 
 Captain Orloff." 
 
 Petya felt the blood burning in his cheeks. " I have been 
 ill," he said. " And I am still far from well. And now all 
 this it overwhelms me." 
 
 Pravdin made an impatient movement. " My time is 
 short," he said. " And to be frank, I do not wish to waste 
 more of it. I have misunderstood you, Captain Orloff so 
 have we all." 
 
 " Do not say so, Leonid Petrovitch. I meant every word 
 of all I said there by the grave. And you will find me ready 
 to keep my promise. Help me to get on board as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " Have you now changed your mind for the last time, Peotr 
 Konstantinovitch ? The key is there, as I have said, and you 
 can still. ..." 
 
 " You are my superior officer, Leonid Petrovitch. What 
 do you wish me to do ?" 
 
 Pravdin went up and laid his hand on Orloff's shoulder. 
 " Our object is to gain possession of the Government offices 
 and the Imperial Palace. That done and done it will be 
 we proclaim er proclaim a free Constitution, and set up a 
 Provisional Government. A similar coup is being carried out 
 to-day in several other cities. The railway and telegraph 
 throughout the greater part of Russia are in our hands; we 
 have such chances of success as we have never had before. 
 The Admiral Orloff will aid us in our fight against the troops. 
 You know the vessel and her armament. ..." 
 
 " No man better." 
 
 " And you know what invaluable help it would be able to 
 render us, especially in skilled hands as yours. I promised 
 you a great and glorious task. You will be known to history 
 as Admiral Orloff: the Admiral who won peace and freedom 
 for the people." 
 
 " Good. I am ready." 
 
 The two men shook hands. There was a moment's silence. 
 Then Petya spoke; there was a new note of eagerness and 
 impatience in his voice. 
 
 " How am I to be kept advised of the movement of the 
 troops our own and and the others ?" 
 
 " We have a couple of your men who declare themselves
 
 THE MAKING OF A MUTINEER 343 
 
 to be capable signallers. The necessary material for com- 
 munication has already been obtained, and placed in readiness 
 at our signal station in one of the houses in Novaya Ekaterin- 
 skaya, facing the sea. ..." 
 
 " Good. Let us go on board." 
 
 " You will easily be able to establish communication with 
 the shore as soon as notice has been given to our people that 
 you are in command of the Admiral Orloff your own ship in 
 every sense," added Pravdin, with a smile. " The warships 
 are my department, and I will see that you are kept informed, 
 and transmit your orders." 
 
 " But the two other cruisers, Dniefir and Pobieda what 
 about them ?" 
 
 " A number of the men have deserted. But not enough; 
 we cannot reckon with them." 
 
 Petya began pacing up and down once more. Pravdin 
 looked anxiously at him; his next words, however, reassured 
 him. 
 
 " Since the two vessels are not with us, Leonid Petrovitch, 
 we must consider them against us. And that is a serious 
 difficulty. I may find it necessary first of all to prevent the 
 Dniepr and the Pobieda from assisting our adversaries . . . 
 that is to say, from putting the Admiral Orloff out of action." 
 
 " We have thought of that. Our people on board are pre- 
 pared. And when we wish you to take command, it is because 
 the situation may present difficulties which are beyond their 
 power. And I myself am unfortunately without the qualifi- 
 cations necessary for using such an instrument as the Admiral 
 Orloff. Now, however, we have an Admiral let him act as 
 he thinks best." 
 
 " I wonder," said Petya thoughtfully, " what would be the 
 effect on board the Dniepr and Pobieda if I announced that I 
 had taken command of all three cruisers. ..." 
 
 " Impossible ! To show yourself on board those vessels 
 would be madness." 
 
 " That is not necessary. I have only to signal from the 
 Admiral Orloff." 
 
 " Good ! That is our Admiral ! Let us try. And now 
 waste no more words." 
 
 He stamped with his heel in signal fashion on the floor. A 
 few moments later there was a knock at the door, and Pravdin
 
 344 KATYA 
 
 opened, admitting a young woman, whom he ordered to bring 
 an overcoat and hat, with such other civilian clothing as 
 would serve to conceal Orloff's uniform. Petya took off his 
 sword, and Pravdin gave him a revolver in case of emergency. 
 A cab was sent for, but the young woman returned shortly 
 after with the news that none were to be seen. Under the 
 circumstances Pravdin decided to go on ahead, leaving Orloff 
 to follow with the young woman ; she could pass for his wife 
 or sister whom he was escorting home to be out of danger. 
 
 Pravdin led the way, making a wide sweep towards the 
 west, where all was quiet, and then turning sharply eastward 
 through the Konnaya down towards the Local Traffic Harbour. 
 In the Konnaya they encountered a cavalry patrol on the 
 way to Peressip; the soldiers passed them, however, without 
 stopping. The fighting was evidently so far to the south 
 near the cemetery and the railway-station that nothing was 
 to be heard in the part of the town where they now were. As 
 Petya Orloff passed the closed doors and shuttered windows of 
 General Karatayef's house, his old bitterness woke furiously 
 anew, and he hurried forward with his companion. 
 
 Without any difficulty or apparent suspicion the three 
 conspirators reached the Local Traffic Harbour. A boat was 
 waiting for them here, and Orloff noticed, to his surprise, that 
 one of the rowers was a sailor from his own ship in civilian 
 dress. The young woman left them here, and hurried back 
 to the town. 
 
 The two men were rowed with steady strokes out to the 
 Admiral Orloff, Petya divesting himself of his disguise on the 
 way. 
 
 The boat came alongside, and Petya Orloff boarded his 
 command an Admiral of mutineers. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE ADMIRAL 
 
 THE warrant officers and crew of the Admiral Orloff assembled 
 on the after-deck. Pravdin explained in a few words what 
 had happened. Orloff then formally declared himself in com- 
 mand, and appointed warrant officers to the vacant posts,
 
 THE ADMIRAL 345 
 
 filling their places in turn from among the oldest and most 
 reliable of the men. Pravdin noticed that Orloff's sharp, 
 authoritative manner had its effect upon them all. Of the 
 five hundred men that made the complement of the ship, 
 about four hundred were present. Some were on duty, acting 
 as guard over the officers deposed, who were imprisoned in 
 their mess amidships. A few were in the engine-room, or 
 in the stokehole, where the fires were kept going. The 
 remainder were on shore leave, in hospital, or had deserted. 
 Only one man of officer's rank, a young engineer, had joined 
 the mutineers. The doctor, the ship's chaplain, and the 
 purser, were under arrest, together with the officers. 
 
 There had been no bloodshed. Most of the officers had 
 been taken by surprise while in their berths, or overpowered 
 singly at their posts. Two young lieutenants, who had 
 returned that day from leave, had been taken as soon as they 
 stepped on board. But when once the ship had been cleared 
 of all its superior officers, a feeling of uneasiness had begun 
 to appear among the men. Pravdin, whom they expected 
 every minute, did not come, nor was there any signal from 
 the shore. At any moment officers from one of the other 
 cruisers, or a messenger from the Governor-General, might 
 come aboard. And none of the warrant officers had sufficient 
 authority to assume supreme command in Pravdin's absence. 
 The uncertainty and inactivity were beginning to make the 
 men nervous and irritable. Some five or six made an attempt 
 to leave the ship in secret; they were stopped by armed 
 threats of instant death. Many found means to sample the 
 wine and spirits from the officers' mess. 
 
 All this, however, disappeared immediately on the arrival 
 of Orloff and Pravdin. The Admiral Orloff had once more 
 a Commander, and all on board felt it a relief to obey the 
 orders of acknowledged authority. 
 
 As soon as Orloff had reviewed his men and made his 
 appointments, he ordered them to attention, and, standing 
 with bared head, gave the traditional greeting. 
 
 " Russian warrant officers and men, I wish you good-day, 
 my children !" 
 
 Firmly and well in time came the accustomed answer : 
 
 " We thank Your Excellency, and wish you health and a 
 happy day !"
 
 346 KATYA 
 
 " My comrades," Petya went on, " this ship, that bears my 
 father's name, is from to-day under my command. I am 
 in supreme authority here; my orders, and no others, are to 
 be obeyed. You have understood ?" 
 
 " Yes, Your Excellency." 
 
 " We will to-day, and whenever else it may be necessary, 
 fight for the just cause of our loved father the Tsar, of the 
 people, and of freedom. But if there is anyone who does not 
 freely wish to serve this cause under my command, let him 
 speak out. There is yet time for all who fear the present 
 danger or the later consequence to go. Boats will be ready 
 for any who wish to leave the ship. You have five minutes 
 to consider. Easy !" 
 
 " Is this necessary ?" asked Pravdin impatiently, as he and 
 Orloff walked the deck, while the men talked together. 
 
 " Pardon me, Leonid Petrovitch, I am in command here." 
 
 " Yet I must remind you, Peotr Konstantinovitch, that 
 every minute is precious." 
 
 " However precious they may be, you must give my con- 
 science five. That is all I ask." 
 
 At the end of the time, Orloff called the men again to 
 attention. 
 
 " Let those who wish to leave step forward 1" 
 
 No one moved. 
 
 "Once more, let those who wish to leave step forward !" 
 
 There was perhaps a slightest ripple of uneasiness in the 
 ranks; a foot moved here, and there an arm; a head half 
 turned, a hand half lifted . . . but none stepped forward. 
 
 " Good ! My comrades, we have chosen and we must 
 now abide the choice. Hats off !" 
 
 All bared their heads. 
 
 " In the name of the Holy Trinity, we swear to fight as 
 Russians and good men for the Tsar, our country, its people, 
 and their freedom. This we swear !" 
 
 " We swear it !" echoed the voices of four hundred men. 
 
 " At ease ! Break off ! To your duties !" 
 
 A feeling of deep solemnity had taken possession of them 
 all. Orloff and Pravdin embraced, and the men, following 
 suit, shook hands and kissed each other brother-wise upon the 
 cheeks. A few minutes later the after-deck was deserted. 
 
 Pravdin was rowed ashore in the boat which had brought
 
 THE ADMIRAL 347 
 
 him on board. Orloff went up on to the bridge, and examined 
 the Novaya Ekaterinskaya through his glass, looking for 
 the signal-station. No signal being visible, he posted a 
 warrant officer to keep watch. The Dniepr and Pobieda were 
 likewise to be kept under observation. All three cruisers lay 
 inside the breakwater, but at considerable distance each from 
 the other; the Dniepr lying off the Quarantine station, the 
 Admiral Orloff outside the Local Traffic Harbour, and the 
 Pobieda farthest to the north, fronting Peressip. 
 
 On board the Admiral Orloff the echo of rifle volleys from 
 the south-west could be distinctly heard. Fighting was 
 evidently going on in the quarter about the cemetery. The 
 part of the town, however, which could be seen from the ship 
 was so far quiet, nor did there appear to be any indication that 
 the Government officials and the Imperial Palace on the 
 Nikolaiefski were threatened by the revolutionaries. 
 
 The day was fine, clear, and almost oppressively warm. 
 The water lapped lazily against the side, and the slight 
 westerly breeze scarcely availed to lift the folds of flag and 
 pennant. 
 
 To Petya it seemed at times that all about him of things 
 and happenings was but a part of some dream. He was so 
 weary, moreover, that he was forced to struggle against the 
 constant temptation to sleep. The fever had not yet left 
 him. The four days since he had left Priluka weighed more 
 heavily upon him than all the years between his first flight 
 after General Karatayef's victory and his own meeting with 
 Katya on board that same ship where now he stood. . . . 
 Why were there no signals from Pravdin and his men on 
 shore ? Inaction was the worst suffering of all to-day. 
 Petya felt ill at ease on board his ship, and avoided in par- 
 ticular the lower decks. It was with an effort that he con- 
 sented to go down and inspect the two guns and the ammuni- 
 tion in his late chief's cabin ; he felt like a thief as long as he 
 remained there. The doors leading to the smaller cabins of 
 the other officers stood open, and traces of the struggle which 
 had taken place were distinctly visible. Only the door of 
 Petya's own cabin, close by the messroom, was closed. 
 Not for anything would he go in. 
 
 Every time he thought of the prisoners below he felt 
 disturbed in mind. The events to come, with which his own
 
 348 KATYA 
 
 fate was indissolubly bound, must first develop before he 
 dared to release the officers and send them on shore. On the 
 other hand, there was a certain danger in retaining them on 
 board. On account of the heat in the crowded space, he 
 had given orders to open the skylight, which the men had 
 originally closed with its armoured covering, and now a 
 constant stream of threats and warnings came up from below. 
 Petya could not help noticing that the men were as loath as 
 he himself to approach the skylight above the mess. Fortu- 
 nately the prisoners were all unarmed, but when the new 
 Commander had sent a couple of men down with food, the 
 two had been received with threats and blows, and rushed 
 upon deck, refusing to go down again. The warrant officers 
 were in favour of offering the prisoners choice between silence 
 and death; Orloff, however, would hear of no such measure. 
 He would take what steps he thought fit at the proper time. . . . 
 In truth, however, he was utterly at a loss as to what to do. 
 He shuddered at the thought of any meeting with the men 
 who had been his comrades, now that he could no longer look 
 them in the face. 
 
 Best not to think at all, but only await events. Pravdin's 
 revolver was still in his pocket ; down in his cabin was another, 
 that he knew would not fail him. As to his will, and the 
 letters to Olga and Pashka's parents, they must be left for 
 the present. His one last right to the rest of death none 
 could take from him. . . . But his word to Pravdin, and the 
 responsibility for all those men on board, who trusted him 
 the oath they all had sworn ! . . . Had he relinquished even 
 his right to die ? Was all, even this one last hope, now taken 
 from him, leaving nothing but suffering and dishonour ? 
 
 The watch reported a pinnace approaching. Petya gave 
 orders for the mess skylight to be closed, and went down to 
 the deck. 
 
 A young infantry officer, one of the Governor-General's 
 aides, came up and saluted. 
 
 " I have a message from the Governor-General to the 
 Commander of the Admiral Orloff." 
 
 " I command here," said Petya shortly. " Your message ?" 
 
 " The former commander is not here ?" 
 
 " No. Your message, sir ?" 
 
 " Here is Prince Olenin's order in writing. I have only to
 
 THE ADMIRAL 349 
 
 add that we have not been able to get into communication 
 by telephone with any of the three cruisers since this morn- 
 ing. It seems that both telephone and telegraph have been 
 cut." 
 
 " Excuse me a moment." Petya opened the message, and 
 read: 
 
 " Send immediately as strong a landing-party as possible 
 on shore. The party to land at the Local Traffic Harbour, 
 and proceed thence with all speed to the square by the 
 church of St. Sofia in Peressip, waiting there for further 
 orders. 
 
 " KARASIN, 
 
 " Chief of Staff." 
 
 A warrant officer came hurrying up. " They are signalling, 
 Your Excellency." 
 
 " Good. Take down the message." Orloff signed the 
 receipt for the message with the words " Commander of 
 Admiral Orloff," and handed it back to the officer. 
 
 " What is happening on shore ?" he asked. 
 
 "I know very little of what is going on; I have come 
 straight from the office. The first reports stated that all was 
 quiet. Then, an hour or so ago, came a rumour that two 
 regiments of infantry had joined the revolutionaries. There is 
 also some story of a naval officer's having placed himself at 
 the head of a mob of workmen, causing riot and bloodshed in 
 the cemetery. But there is no believing all the rumours that 
 are continually coming in. All that I know for certain is 
 that there is a pitched battle going on near the Municipal 
 Hospital, and we are trying to concentrate a strong force at 
 Peressip. It is war in earnest to-day we are going to clear 
 the place." 
 
 " At the hospital ? I thought it was at the cemetery and 
 near the railway-station." 
 
 " At first, yes. But we drove the scoundrels back an 
 hour since. They turned tail, like the cowardly mob they are. 
 Some of them tried to reach the Nikolaiefski, and went up 
 towards the Palace, but it came to nothing. To tell the 
 truth, I cannot give you any proper idea of what is going on, 
 as I know nothing beyond the reports which have passed 
 through my own hands. As far as I know, the revolutionaries,
 
 350 KATYA 
 
 with the mutineers from among the military, have taken up 
 a position by the Municipal Hospital, and are defending the 
 entrance to Peressip as though it were their fortress." 
 
 " But the Governor-General's orders are that my men are 
 to march to the church of St. Sofia in Peressip. How am I 
 to understand that ? Is the way already cleared ?" 
 
 " Not as far as I know. But we have outflanked the 
 scoundrels there. Troops are moving out behind them from 
 the south-west; and now the landing-parties are to cut them 
 off from the water-side. I have further messages for the 
 Dniepr and Pobieda, which are probably identical with 
 yours." 
 
 Petya drew a deep breath. The officer saluted, and was 
 about to retire. 
 
 " One moment, sir," said Orloff, in a tone of command. 
 " Give me your messages, and I will signal them to the 
 cruisers." 
 
 The officer smiled. " Most kind of you, Captain. But you 
 can scarcely mean that I should do as you say. An order is 
 an order, and I have the express instructions of the Chief 
 of Staff to deliver them to the respective Commanders in 
 person." 
 
 " How many men have you with you in the pinnace ?" 
 asked Orloff suddenly. The officer stared in astonishment, 
 and he repeated his question. 
 
 " Really, I never thought to look. Two, I suppose, as 
 usual." 
 
 Petya Orloff gave a whispered order to one of the watch, 
 who hurried off, and returned with six men armed with rifles. 
 Meanwhile Orloff was holding the officer in talk. 
 
 " You will save time by signalling from here. We ought 
 to have wireless, of course, but that triumph of human 
 ingenuity has not yet reached the Black Sea in the year of 
 grace 1905. Still, our signals are good enough." 
 
 " Impossible, Captain. I cannot understand ..." 
 
 " Very good." Petya raised his voice to the pitch of 
 command. " Surround that officer." It was done in a 
 moment. " I order you, sir, to deliver up those messages." 
 
 " What does this mean ? You would force me ? . . . 
 Never 1" The officer laid his hand on his sword. 
 
 " Arrest him !"
 
 THE ADMIRAL 351 
 
 There was a short struggle, and the Governor's messenger 
 lay on the deck, held down by two of the men. 
 
 " Disarm him. Give me what papers he carries, and see 
 that he does not jump overboard." 
 
 The messages for the Dniepr and Pobieda were almost 
 identical with that addressed to the Admiral Orloff. Petya 
 put them in his pocket. 
 
 " Place the officer below with the other prisoners. Get the 
 men from the pinnace on board and place them under 
 guard." 
 
 Orloff hurried up on the bridge, where a couple of warrant 
 officers were busy taking down the signals from Novaya 
 Ekaterinskaya. It was a matter of considerable difficulty 
 to read them off, for the man who was despatching made 
 continual errors and corrections, breaking off in the middle of a 
 word to begin again, and at times apparently forgetting what 
 he had originally intended to express. Petya thought for a 
 moment of sending a couple of capable men on shore, to 
 take over charge of the signal-station. But on second 
 thoughts he relinquished the idea. Peressip being cut off 
 by the troops from the town side, it would be handing his 
 men over to the enemy. 
 
 After some time the signals had been so far deciphered as 
 to permit of Petya's forming some idea, with the help of 
 the information he had gained from the Governor's messenger, 
 as to the situation on shore. The attack on the Government 
 offices and the Palace had apparently been repulsed or with- 
 drawn. The scene of operations at the moment was the 
 ground near the Municipal Hospital, where the plateau on 
 which the old town is built falls steeply away to the low-lying 
 fields about Peressip. This quarter was invisible from the 
 sea, and there were no plans of the town on board by means 
 of which he could direct his fire against the unseen target. 
 Petya would have blown his brains out rather than bombard 
 the hospitals. There was thus no possibility of any present 
 interference with the course of events on land. 
 
 Moreover, the signals merely ordered him to prevent any 
 advance of the troops against Peressip from the south-east, 
 the side nearest the sea, where the low ground was crossed 
 by the roads leading to and from the Local Traffic Harbour. 
 This could be done. The Admiral Orloff lay in such a position
 
 352 KATYA 
 
 as to effectively command the spot, which could be easily 
 observed through the glass, and swept by searchlights after 
 dark. 
 
 Petya inquired of some of his subordinates why Peressip 
 was of such signal importance to the revolutionaries " our 
 people " and learned much that he had not known before. 
 Peressip was the arsenal of the revolutionary army, contain- 
 ing store of weapons which they had spent months in collect- 
 ing. It was the residence of many of their supporters, and 
 the headquarters of the directing staff. Papers and plans, 
 names and addresses of hundreds of revolutionaries all over 
 Russia, the most important secrets of their whole organiza- 
 tion were hidden there. If these were to fall into the hands 
 of the authorities it would mean disaster to thousands and 
 the ruin of years of work. There were also large sums of 
 ready money, materials for the manufacture of bombs, secret 
 printing presses, and all the other tools of revolution. Peres- 
 sip was their fortress. The attack on the Government offices 
 and the Palace having failed, the next thing was to main- 
 tain possession of Peressip and organize from there new plans 
 of campaign. 
 
 A new signal came through, clearer this time than the last : 
 " Troops with machine-guns moving down towards the Local 
 Traffic Harbour." 
 
 Action at last ! 
 
 " To quarters !" 
 
 Petya Orloff took up his place in the armoured conning- 
 tower, and here forgot for a moment all save the task imme- 
 diately before him. He marked down every spot along the 
 coast which the troops would have to pass on their way to 
 Peressip. He calculated distances and angles, searching with 
 delicate instruments earth and sky and sea for every point 
 to strengthen his design. And as his plans took form his 
 will was silently transmitted from the intricate keyboard 
 in the tower to each great gun in turn. Without a spoken 
 word, the mighty engines turned their threatening throats, 
 gliding on noiseless mechanism into place, the men beside 
 them watching at tension for the signal, swifter than thought, 
 which should loose the death- filled quarrels towards their 
 mark. 
 
 Petya stood isolated in his tower, shut off from even sound
 
 THE ADMIRAL 353 
 
 of things without. The periscope showed the coastline down 
 towards the harbour as clearly as the strongest glass; the 
 telephone gave brief reports from time to time. The Admiral 
 Orloff was ready. 
 
 " The troops ! Out from the Primorskaya !" came the 
 report. The periscope verified the words. 
 Petya Orloff made the sign of the cross. 
 A second later the men at the great thirty-centimetre gun 
 read off the order, " Ready !" 
 
 Petya's fingers were fixed to the keyboard; his eye never 
 left the periscope, or his ear the microphone. 
 
 The troops were pouring out into the open infantry with 
 machine-guns. There were some hand-carts, probably am- 
 munition, behind. 
 
 The foremost ranks had reached the spot marked out for 
 the guns. A few moments later some four or five hundred 
 men had swung out from the shelter of the houses on to the 
 unprotected road along the coast. 
 
 Orloff closed down a key; a signal shivered by the after 
 gun: 
 " Fire !" 
 
 A faint flash played for a moment against the sunlight, 
 and giant echoes rolled thunderously along the coast. On 
 the open ground between the harbour and Peressip a bursting 
 shell flung death and horror abroad. 
 
 Scarcely had the sound of the first shot died than the whole 
 of the starboard broadside of smaller guns commenced their 
 furious chorus, the great bass of the thirty-centimetre piece 
 marking the time. Petya stood isolated in the armoured 
 tower, the picture in the periscope spread like a music-sheet 
 before him, playing upon his fatal keys a devilish melody of 
 death that filled the air with complex thunder-chords and 
 sibilant screams of flight. 
 
 The way was cleared. No man dared move across the 
 open road that led to Peressip. 
 
 The firing ceased, and Petya left his tower, pale, with eyes 
 burning as in fever. The men, already shaken by the weight 
 of what had passed, could scarcely recognize their chief. His 
 voice was harsh, his manner cuttingly cold. 
 
 Two ranks of men with fixed bayonets were posted to line 
 the way from the door of the officers' mess to the side. One 
 
 23
 
 354 KATYA 
 
 of the ship's boats was lowered into the water, and the pin- 
 nace made ready to tow. 
 
 The senior warrant officer, now acting as second in com- 
 mand, opened the door of the mess and bade the prisoners 
 leave the ship in silence. At the first word or any sign of 
 resistance, the order would be given to use bayonets. 
 
 The prisoned men marched in silence, the Commander at 
 their head, between the threatening ranks; their eyes spoke 
 bitter and contemptuous hate. 
 
 Petya Orloff stood on the bridge, watching the execution of 
 his orders. His late chief caught sight of him, and, heedless 
 of possible consequence, flung up a clenched and trembling 
 hand : " Scoundrel !" 
 
 The men nearest to him lowered their bayonets. Orloff 
 called from the bridge: " Close up the ranks behind, and get 
 them off." 
 
 The prisoners were hurried forward by the pressure from 
 behind. Soon the pinnace and the boat were rilled, and 
 moving quickly towards land. 
 
 Some moments later, while the officers in the boats were 
 yet looking back at the ship, the Admiral Orloff began to 
 signal to the cruisers : 
 
 " /, Captain Orloff, take command of the warships in the 
 Roads." 
 
 Hot and excited with the events of the last half-hour, the 
 men collected in groups about the deck. 
 
 " Long live the Admiral !" 
 
 The single shout waked instant echo from the throats of 
 the war-maddened men ; a wild roar foamed in frothing waves 
 of sound about the lonely figure on the bridge : 
 
 " The Admiral /" 
 
 Activity on board the insurgent warship increased. All 
 the town knew, and every vessel in the roads, that the 
 Admiral Orloff had joined the revolutionaries. The fighting 
 about the entrance to Peressip moved down towards the coast. 
 In the suburb itself the deserted soldiery were attacking the 
 troops that had endeavoured to outflank the army of work- 
 men by the Hospital. The signals from Novaya Ekaterinskaya 
 explained, in halting, stammering cipher, that the courage 
 and strength of the insurgents had been greatly increased by
 
 THE ADMIRAL 355 
 
 the action of the Admiral Orloff, and begged that no further 
 opportunity of letting the guns speak be neglected. 
 
 The firing on shore could be but faintly heard on board. 
 It was clear that the revolutionaries were trying to draw their 
 opponents after them to the eastward, towards the places 
 commanded by the guns of the ship. On the Nikolaiefski all 
 was quiet. The attack on the Government offices and the 
 Palace had evidently been abandoned, and every effort was 
 now being concentrated on the defence of Peressip, the fortress 
 and headquarters of the revolt. 
 
 Again the signal " Ready !" was flashed from the conning- 
 tower to the thirty-centimetre gun and the smaller ordnance 
 on the starboard side. 
 
 Orloff had taken the edge of the plateau as his mark 
 a strip somewhat farther to the south than the slopes that 
 ran down to Peressip. At the same time he was careful to 
 sight well short of the Hospital. Even then it was clear 
 that he risked hitting friends as well as enemies. But as 
 long as the actual fighting was hidden by the houses, there 
 was no other way if the guns of the Admiral Orloff were to take 
 any part at all. 
 
 Before his fingers had pressed off the command to fire, how- 
 ever, there came a hissing of shell above the ship, and the 
 roar of heavy guns. The Dniepr and Pobieda were answering 
 his signal by firing on the Admiral Orloff. None of the 
 missiles hit. Nor was this, perhaps, intended. Perhaps they 
 merely wished to warn the presumptuous Admiral while there 
 was yet time. . . . But Petya stamped his foot and turned 
 again to his keyboard. A second later a roar burst over the 
 troubled city; three times the warship's projectiles flung 
 through the air, punishing with fire and hurtling steel the 
 houses on the plateau's edge. 
 
 The Dniepr was the first to answer, and the Pobieda was not 
 far behind. A swarm of shell flew like invisible giant wasps 
 above the heads of the mutineers. But none of them touched 
 the ship. Neither of the smaller cruisers dared challenge in 
 earnest the mighty armament at the insurgent Admiral's 
 command. In vain they warned; he and his men could laugh 
 at the noisy demonstration, the only effect of which was to 
 raise some columns of water from the idly rocking sapphire 
 of the summer sea.
 
 356 KATYA 
 
 . ' 
 
 Yet that was not quite all. An English cargo boat lying 
 some distance to port from the Admiral Orloff sprang suddenly 
 into flame; doubtless the work of the Pobieda. And away 
 on the opposite bow the crew of a little Russian yacht were 
 shouting for aid their vessel was sinking, struck by a shot 
 from the Dniepr's guns. 
 
 The ships lying in the roads began hastily to hoist the 
 flags of their respective countries. Many signalled anxiously 
 to know what was going on, and how they might seek safety. 
 
 The Admiral Orloff gave them no reply. Petya and his 
 men had no thought for anything save observation of the 
 stretch of land between the town and Peressip, where their 
 rain of shot had fallen. The noise from the land increased; 
 the sound of volleys and the tireless thrill of the machine-guns 
 came ever more distinctly over the water. Here and there 
 among the square-packed houses smoke had begun to rise, 
 and through his glass Petya could see the pale flames shiver 
 in the sun-filled air. 
 
 The warrant officers and men on board were jubilantly scorn- 
 ful at the two cruisers' pyrotechnic display. " Let's sink the 
 rotten hulks," called one, waving his cap. And others joined 
 him, asking for the range, to send the hostile vessels to the 
 bottom. But Petya preferred to save his ammunition against 
 more pressing need. There was no knowing what the day yet 
 might bring. Already matters were beginning to look ill 
 for the revolutionary party, and Petya was forced to admit 
 to himself that his ship had done but little as yet to help the 
 cause for which so much blood had been shed. 
 
 It was almost impossible for him to leave the bridge. 
 There were the signals from Novaya Ekaterinskaya to be 
 observed, and if the Governor-General again should venture to 
 send troops from Primorskaya by the coast road, they must 
 be stopped once more. Nor could he let the hostile cruisers 
 send any boat on shore. Orloff was clear in his mind as to 
 all he must prevent. But no attempt was made to effect any 
 such movement; and to take any active part in the fighting 
 he could hear was impossible as long as he could not see it. 
 His guns were ready, he himself prepared ; but the day wore 
 on without giving him any opportunity to act. 
 
 The Dniepr opened fire again. A German grain ship that 
 was steaming out from the Local Traffic Harbour was hit,
 
 THE ADMIRAL 357 
 
 and began to sink; through his glass Petya could see the crew 
 springing into the water. A number of small boats, with the 
 white flag hoisted, came up to the rescue. The Dniepr con- 
 tinued firing. All the shells flew high, however, and were 
 greeted with jeering applause by the men of the Admiral 
 Orloff, who repeated their request to be allowed to sink the 
 two cruisers. " Let us send them to the bottom, Excel- 
 lency I" they called up to Petya on the bridge. He answered 
 with a stern command for silence. 
 
 The Pobieda joined in. Her shot went lower and fell 
 shorter than those of her consort on the other side. On the 
 Admiral Orloff s port side, off the coal quay, some small 
 boats were upset, and a Russian brig caught fire. On every 
 side the flames were growing in the fading light. The smoke 
 rolled in masses over the surface of the sea, and clung to the 
 reddening ripples of the water. To the noise of fighting on 
 the slopes of the plateau were added the shouts from desperate 
 crews of sinking ships, the explosion of submerged boilers, the 
 hoarse appealing shriek of sirens, and, under all, the ceaseless 
 treble and intermittent bass of the furious guns. 
 
 A shot from the Pobieda struck the Admiral Orloff on the 
 starboard side, just above the water-line. But the great 
 ship did not seem to feel. The men laughed aloud, hopping 
 derisively about the decks, waving their caps, shouting out 
 fragments of ribald songs, and hammering with rifle-butts 
 against the resounding armour, as though applauding at a 
 theatre. " Try again !" they roared, choking with mirth. 
 " Go home and borrow spectacles from grandmama f" 
 " Hurra for the little Pobieda and her baby gun t" 
 
 On every side were boats, all with white flags appealingly 
 displayed, seeking among fragments of wreckage, patches of 
 oil, and spoutings of ubiquitous shell, to save the shrieking 
 crews of sunken ships. And from the insurgent cruiser 
 sounded delirious laughter of men drunk with war. 
 
 The sun had set ; the western heaven glowed still red above 
 the turbulent town. On board the Admiral Orloff men stood 
 beside their guns, now trained upon new targets, and waited 
 signals from the unseen control. Only the mighty thirty- 
 centimetre piece still guarded Peressip; the rest turned 
 threatening mouths towards the cruisers on either side-. 
 
 Through the electric nerves of the great ship thrilled now
 
 358 KATYA 
 
 once more the dictates of the mind behind its keyboard brain. 
 The men at their stations read again the intoxicating com- 
 mand :" Fire." 
 
 And merciless realities of horror shrieked through the air, 
 outstripping the thunder that had loosed them on their way. 
 
 Again, and yet again. Roar upon crashing roar, and swift, 
 sharp flashes, and grey-white clouds of smoke flung from the 
 cruiser's side. 
 
 The smoke cleared; the echoes died away. The Admiral 
 and his men saw the Pobieda sinking by the bow, and the 
 Dniepr, her upper works one ghastly wreck, obviously 
 impotent as a winged bird. 
 
 Two or three merchant ships that had not withdrawn in 
 time hoisted signals of distress, and blew their sirens for 
 assistance. But none came. Neither friend nor enemy dared 
 longer venture out upon the water where the Admiral Orloff 
 had throned its threatening might. 
 
 Quiet had fallen on the ship; the men's minds shifted from 
 mood to mood. Some threw themselves down where they 
 had stood, and straightway slept; many made sign of the 
 cross, and prayed for their suffering comrades on the stricken 
 vessels. One or two sought information from superiors as to 
 where it all was to end, and what might be their leader's 
 plans for the night. Not a few went in search of drink. 
 
 The twilight was near when a signal from Novaya Ekaterin- 
 skaya informed Orloff that Pravdin was coming out in a boat 
 from Peressip, and would thus have to pass the Pobieda. 
 The boat would carry a white flag. 
 
 The searchlights were examined ; everything was found to be 
 In perfect order. The insurgent vessel lit its customary lights, 
 in common with every other ship at anchor or in harbour. 
 The flag which had waved astern all day was hauled down 
 without the usual ceremony. Watch was kept for Pravdin's 
 boat, and two of the smaller guns on the starboard side 
 were held in readiness to protect him in case the Pobieda, in 
 spite of her condition, should try to interfere with his progress. 
 
 But nothing happened. The glow from the flames still 
 raging on sea and land rendered the searchlights unnecessary. 
 As darkness fell, and the firing from the warships ceased, a 
 number of small boats ventured out from the different 
 harbours. All, without exception, bore some or other rag
 
 THE ADMIRAL 359 
 
 aloft doing duty as a white flag, and Pravdin's craft was not 
 likely to excite remark. 
 
 As the revolutionary leader came on board, the crew 
 poured up on to the after-deck. The guns were deserted, 
 watch and lookout left their posts, and men came hurrying 
 from the engine-room below. 
 
 " What is happening ashore there ?" " Have you made 
 an end of them ?" " We did you a good turn with the guns !" 
 " Hurra for the Republic ! " " Hurra for Pravdin and 
 Orloff 1" 
 
 " Silence !" commanded Petya. But the rain of questions 
 continued, and Pravdin could not make himself heard. He 
 looked long at Orloff, who lowered his eyes. The crush and 
 confusion were so great that the two men were separated. 
 Somewhere in the press two drunken sailors were chanting a 
 doleful love-song. 
 
 " Silence !" shouted Petya again. " Be silent, men, and 
 let us hear what Leonid Petrovitch has to say." 
 
 The noise subsided ; only the singers refused to cease their 
 song, and chanted still in a lugubrious maudlin drawl a crudely 
 sentimental ballad of unrequited love. 
 
 To this accompaniment the leader spoke, curtly, with an 
 undertone of challenge, rising now and then to an excited note. 
 
 " There have been traitors among us scoundrels who have 
 sold us for Olenin's and Dolgoruki's gold. Our people have 
 fought like heroes. The enemy have lost several hundred 
 men. But our losses, too, are great. By an error for which 
 one man alone is responsible ..." 
 
 His eyes sought Orloff's, and for some moments held his 
 glance. 
 
 "... one man alone ... we have been prevented from 
 carrying out our original plan of seizing the Government 
 offices and the Palace. Our force was attacked and cut up in 
 the cemetery, before we could move out to the Nikolaiefski. 
 You see the boulevard and the buildings there, high above 
 the harbour and the sea. Had not our plan been ruined at the 
 outset, the Admiral Orloff alone would have been able to lay 
 the centre of the town at our mercy. By now we should 
 have proclaimed the Republic of South Russia. ..." 
 
 Orloff took a step forward, raising his arm. But he let it 
 fall again, and bowed his head.
 
 360 KATYA 
 
 " Nikolaiefski is a target plain to be seen from here your 
 guns could have held it for us. But now all has been in vain . 
 Beyond hindering the troops in attacking Peressip from 
 below, and perhaps drawing the fire of the cruisers from us, 
 you have done no good at all." 
 
 The men were listening eagerly. A couple of men fell 
 upon the two singers and bore them to the ground with blows 
 and curses. Pravdin waited till all was quiet again; Orloff 
 was leaning against the railing for support. 
 
 " For a long time we held the approaches to Peressip. 
 Our brothers of the infantry regiments who had joined them- 
 selves to the just cause of the people held out as long as they 
 had a cartridge left. But it is over. We are beaten. . . ." 
 The men were beginning to murmur. One of the newly 
 appointed officers voiced displeasure: " Cowards and fools !" 
 And many of the sailors echoed the cry. But Pravdin sprang 
 in upon the first speaker, and caught him by the collar. 
 
 " You dare," he shouted " you dare to jeer at men who 
 have bled for the holy cause of freedom, while you have 
 been drinking yourself to sleep on board this useless toy !" 
 
 The sailors tore Pravdin away, and threatening hands were 
 raised. Petya stepped forward. None could see the pallor 
 of his face in the dark, but all could hear the tremor in his 
 voice as he cried : 
 
 " Attention ! The first that gives a sign of trouble dies !" 
 The group parted. There was a murmur of protest. 
 " Let him talk with a civil tongue, then; we are as good 
 as he !" 
 
 " Silence !" called Petya again, and this time he was 
 obeyed. 
 
 " If you have more to say, Leonid Petrovitch," said Orloff, 
 loudly enough to be heard by most of those around, " kindly 
 say it in such a manner as not to cause offence to these good 
 men." 
 
 " Bravo !" from the crew; and again their chief called them 
 to silence. 
 
 " Yes, I have more to say," resumed Pravdin excitedly. 
 " This day has been a day of disaster for us all. Heaven 
 grant the cause of the people may have fared better else- 
 where ! Here in Odessa we are crushed ; it will be long 
 before we can raise our heads again. . ."
 
 THE ADMIRAL 361 
 
 He covered his face with his hands, struggling for com- 
 posure, 
 
 "At the moment when I left Peressip, the troops were 
 forcing their way into the streets on all sides. From the 
 boat we could see them also, coming down by the coast 
 under cover of darkness. While we stand here, Peressip is 
 being surrounded and occupied by the military as it has 
 been Olenin's plan all along. . . ." 
 
 " Stand by the searchlights 1" commanded Orloff. 
 
 There was a hesitant movement. " Might we not wait till 
 he has spoken, Excellency ?" asked a voice, 
 
 Petya stamped his foot. " Stand by the searchlights, 
 or . . ." 
 
 A couple of men moved unwillingly away. 
 
 " Be quick, Leonid Petrovitch, if you please," said Orloff. 
 " We, too, have something to say." 
 
 " There is nothing more to tell. At this moment Peressip 
 is in Olenin's power. Every supporter of the cause of free- 
 dom who is found there will be cut down or arrested. None 
 can escape, not even by throwing themselves into the sea. 
 The boats of the Pobieda are ready to patrol the water in 
 front of Novaya Ekaterinskaya. On land, up beyond the 
 railway-line, a close cordon of cavalry bars the way. The 
 slopes leading to the plateau are planted with machine-guns. 
 Besides the three or four thousand soldiers let loose in the 
 streets of Peressip, Olenin has called out the Fire Brigade, 
 police, and engineers, in pursuit of fugitives trying to escape 
 by the roofs. And if the traitors and spies in their service 
 know where to look for our funds and papers, they can lay 
 hands on them before we can manage to burn even the most 
 dangerous secret lists. It is no use my trying to hide any- 
 thing from you, brothers ; we are utterly lost, all of us also 
 you yourselves ! There is but one hope ..." 
 
 He paused and looked again at Orloff. Impatient cries 
 broke from the men. " Speak out !" " What is it ?" 
 " You've got us into the mess, you devil ! Now get us out !" 
 
 " I will tell you. Our only hope of safety at this moment 
 is by the guns of the Admiral Orloff." 
 
 " Bravo I" " That's good I" " And this is our useless 
 toy I" " Try a shot yourself, red devil 1" " What does he- 
 know about guns I"
 
 362 KATYA 
 
 " Silence !" commanded Petya again, his hand on the 
 revolver in his pocket. " Explain yourself, Leonid Petro- 
 vitch." 
 
 Pravdin raised his voice. " The only hope of saving the 
 cause for freedom and the people is by the guns of the Admiral 
 Orloff. Shoot Peressip into ruins; shatter every stone, if 
 need be. Drive back Olenin's troops ; clear the coast, and hold 
 a way for our people to escape. Bring down the walls upon 
 the men who are searching for our secrets now. Brothers 
 and friends, I ask this of you in the sacred name of freedom !" 
 A storm of applause greeted his words; men and officers 
 fought to get near and embrace him. Many danced, shouting, 
 about the deck; others climbed on the great gun and made 
 speeches, or shouted aloud for Pravdin, for Freedom, for the 
 Republic. 
 
 " Silence yet a moment, brothers !" 
 ' Pravdin 's voice was heard and obeyed. 
 
 " I know that you would not forsake your comrades in 
 their need. The Russian people will one day bless your names 
 as those of heroes in the cause of freedom. But one man 
 above all will be remembered by those who come after us, 
 a man whom mothers shall teach their little ones to bless, 
 and fathers name with honour to their sons ; the man of noble 
 soul, who felt for those that suffer; man of great heart and 
 ready hand. My brothers, there is one name that shall live 
 long in Russian story the name of Orloff, of our Admiral !" 
 Far over the roads, flecked with the flames from burning 
 vessels, sounded the wild cheers from the warship's deck. 
 The men at the searchlights left their posts to join the general 
 acclamation. All bounds of discipline were forgotten in the 
 intoxication of the moment. Petya fought like a madman, 
 spluttering inarticulate curses at the men who pressed about 
 him, caught and held and lifted him shoulder high. None 
 heeded his protest; the mutineers, filled with a maddening 
 joy of hero-worship, bore their admiral in triumph round the 
 deck, drowning his gasping words with furious cheering, 
 taking his blows as honourable accolade. 
 
 Pravdin was hammering with a bunch of keys on the steel of 
 a gun, calling imploringly for order. One or two officers 
 joined with him their whistles. At last Petya was freed. 
 He dashed towards Pravdin with uplifted hand, but ere he
 
 THE ADMIRAL 363 
 
 could reach him the leader of the revolutionaries had begun 
 to speak, his clear, schooled tones carrying far. 
 
 " Brothers ! Your brave commander has given me a 
 promise his honourable word to our suffering people. And 
 you have sworn a solemn oath to him here on this deck. Now 
 is the time to keep those vows. Our fate is in our Admiral's 
 hands; obey him, and we are saved, victorious !" 
 
 An officer shouted an order. " To quarters !" " Stand 
 by the searchlights !" 
 
 Petya had given no command. But the men hurried to 
 their posts, eager for action to relieve their fever of emotion. 
 In a few moments the after-deck was clear. 
 
 " A word with you, Leonid Petrovitch," said Petya, striving 
 to speak calmly. 
 
 " There is no need for more words, Peotr Konstantinovitch. 
 We have wasted too much time in talk already. Each second 
 of delay in the fulfilment of your oath is costing the lives of 
 men. This morning, at the cemetery, you placed yourself 
 under our orders. In the name of the people I order you to 
 do what is in your power to save us from oppression and 
 persecution." 
 
 " Will you follow me to a place where we can be alone, 
 Leonid Petrovitch ? I wish to speak with you." 
 
 The two men went up on the bridge and entered the conning- 
 tower. Orloff closed the armoured door behind him. Then, 
 turning to Pravdin, he said curtly : 
 
 " I refuse to obey your order." 
 
 " You refuse to ... ?" 
 
 " I refuse to bombard Peressip." 
 
 " And why do you suddenly break your oath, Peotr Kon- 
 stantinovitch ? Why do you now side with the enemies of 
 the people, after you have wept over the people's misery and 
 promised them your aid ?" 
 
 Petya stood leaning against the door; his hand closed on 
 the revolver in his pocket. 
 
 " Because . . . because . . ." he stammered, "... be- 
 cause a bombardment would mean loss of life or limb to 
 hundreds, maybe thousands, of innocent men. One cannot 
 shell an open town, a populous quarter, without. . . . You 
 do not know the effect of the guns you speak of, Leonid 
 Petrovitch . . . you do not know what it is you ask. I
 
 364 KATYA 
 
 am *io murderer of women and children. ... I will not 
 do your devilish work. . . ." 
 
 " No," said Pravdin, speaking quietly, almost carelessly 
 " no, of course not. Yet you are a perjurer, Captain Orloff, 
 and your hands are stained already with innocent blood. . . ." 
 
 Petya's revolver was out before the other had got so far. 
 He darted forward a pace, but Pravdin 's unshaken calm and 
 contemptuous smile checked him. 
 
 " I am at your mercy, it seems," said the insurgent leader, 
 as one idly noting an unimportant fact. " You have me, 
 so to speak, in a trap." 
 
 Petya put away his revolver. Pravdin went on unmoved : 
 " Your speech in the cemetery to-day is responsible, not only 
 for our failure to capture the tow r n, but also for the fact that 
 we are now surrounded in Peressip, where the police and 
 military at this moment are butchering the innocent with the 
 guilty. And the responsibility is yours, Captain Orloff 
 yours alone. You have it in your power to stop the slaughter, 
 yet you allow it to go on. You swore to-day to fight for the 
 cause of freedom, and yet you stand here without moving a 
 finger, and Olenin and his men take possession of all that is 
 invaluable to that cause. Captain Orloff, you are a coward ! 
 Or perhaps you hold shares in Peressip, like General Kara- 
 tayef and the Kherson Bank, and your interest in the property 
 is more to you than oath and given word." 
 
 Petya laughed harshly. " Your insults do not move me, 
 "Leonid Petrovitch. It seems I have no honour left. Yet I 
 call God to witness that no man hates Peressip as I those 
 accursed houses that have crushed my life. ..." 
 
 He turned again to the door, and leaned his head upon 
 one arm. His body shook from time to time with a convulsion 
 which he could not control. 
 
 Pravdin took out his watch. " I give you two minutes, 
 Captain Orloff. At the end of that time I can tell the men 
 who are waiting their orders from you that you have 
 broken your oath. And we must do what we can without 
 you." 
 
 Petya faced him. " Are you certain that Peressip is sur- 
 rounded that none of the ... of ... of our people can 
 escape ?" 
 
 " Nothing is more certain. You can satisfy yourself on
 
 THE ADMIRAL 365 
 
 the point with the searchlights, as I imagine was your 
 intention a moment ago. You have a minute and a half." 
 
 Petya moved over to the signal table, and began despatching 
 orders. A moment later the periscope showed the line of coast 
 from Primorskaya to the farthest houses in Novaya Ekaterin- 
 skaya, bathed in a cold, steady glare. 
 
 Pravdin was right. Cossacks, dragoons, and infantry were 
 in position all along the coast. Boats from the Pobieda and 
 many other small craft were patrolling close in to land. The 
 searchlights caused evident confusion and uneasiness among 
 the troops. Petya gave another order, and the light vanished. 
 
 " Good !" said Petya. " I will clear that way, at least, 
 and then your people must manage as best they can." 
 
 " There is no question of my people, Captain Orloff, but of 
 ours. And will it help us that you clear a way which leads 
 only to the sea, unless you drive the troops from Peressip, 
 and give the friends of freedom means of escape for them- 
 selves and safety for our treasures or destruction for all \ 
 You need not fear for our people, Peotr Konstantinovitch; 
 we are not afraid to die." 
 
 " But the innocent ! Those poor old people, Varya's 
 parents; you saw me with them this morning. . . . Oh, 
 God ! why must I ..." 
 
 " The two minutes are gone, Captain Orloff." 
 
 " A moment more . . . have you no heart, man ? It was 
 these poor creatures and their like we were to protect and aid, 
 you and I. . . ." 
 
 " You are right, Captain Orloff. Let us clasp our hands 
 and pray together, while the soldiers slaughter these poor 
 creatures, Varya's parents, children, girls. . . ." 
 
 " Enough ! Let it be as you will." 
 
 For the second time that day Petya Orloff made the sign 
 of the cross. 
 
 Pravdin's glance followed him everywhere about the closed 
 and silent room. The Admiral of mutineers moved as one 
 dreaming through imagined action in delirium. His hands 
 shook, his eyes were fixed and hard, his forehead glistening 
 with sweat, and yet he shivered as with cold from time to 
 time. 
 
 Again the searchlights' glare betrayed each movement on 
 the shore. Pravdin watched Petya as he bent over his
 
 366 KATYA 
 
 instruments and paper of calculations, pressing now one, now 
 another, of the mysterious keys; and at each touch a silent 
 signal answered him. A speech was spoken here which only 
 the initiated understood. Strange signs were ordering the 
 fate of thousands, dealing out ruin, devastation, death. 
 
 " AU is ready," said Petya at last, in a dull voice. He 
 signalled " Ready !" to the waiting guns, and rose. " AU is 
 ready. May God have mercy on my soul !" 
 
 " Russia will honour you among its heroes," answered the 
 other. 
 
 But Petya shook his head, and his eyes filled with tears 
 that clouded sight, hiding his hand as it pressed off the ulti- 
 mate irrevocable command: 
 
 " Fire !" 
 
 The sudden flashes lit the night and died; the thunder 
 rolled and spread in all but tangible waves above the sea. 
 Dread sight and horrid sound proclaimed the warship linked 
 once more to its controlling mind. 
 
 The effect of the Admiral Orloff's intervention was horrible. 
 The rain of projectiles swept the coast and water in a line 
 parallel with the house-walls of Novaya Ekaterinskaya. 
 Men and horses were torn to pieces, boats smashed and sunk. 
 No discipline could hold troops thus assailed. The search- 
 lights showed a scene of wildest panic : horse and foot dashing 
 terror-stricken along any road that led away from the coast, 
 careless of what new danger might await them behind the 
 nearest cover that was their immediate goal. 
 
 By some freak unaccountable, the Pobieda had been hulled 
 anew. No guns had aimed at the cruiser, which lay too far 
 from the coast to be of interest at the present juncture. But 
 hit she was, and sinking now, slowly, as seeking rest. No 
 more was to be feared from the Pobieda. Nor did the Dniepr 
 exhibit any sign of life ; her lights were out, and she seemed 
 only anxious to remain unobserved in the darkness. 
 
 " The way is clear," said Orloff, turning to Pravdin. " If 
 troops or patrol boats return within the lighted space, I can 
 hunt them off in a moment. Let us stop now ; we have done 
 enough." 
 
 " For God's sake," broke in Pravdin, and his voice was 
 warm and eager now, " for the sake of your father's name, 
 for all that is dear to you, do not stop half-way, Captain
 
 THE ADMIRAL 367 
 
 Orloff ! The welfare of thousands lies in your hand. If you 
 can only drive the troops from Peressip, you will have saved 
 many thousands of innocent men and women from Siberia, 
 and better served the cause of freedom than any Russian 
 ever before." 
 
 " And sent hundreds of innocent men to their death !" 
 
 " If there is a woman you love, if there is any for whose 
 sake or memory you would sacrifice all that you have, I 
 implore you in her name to hear me. Save us, Peotr Kon- 
 stantinovitch for you alone can save us now. Remember 
 your oath ! Remember the vengeance due for all the blood 
 upon your head to-day !" 
 
 "Enough, man; no more! . . . Katya, Katya, so you 
 have steered. . . . Ah, God ! . . . Pashka, little bird. ..." 
 
 Orloff was sobbing like a child. The signals asked new 
 orders; the telephone called him. The great ship was waiting, 
 restless and impatient, for the orders of the man at whose will 
 it moved. 
 
 Pravdin laid a hand on Orloff s shoulder. Softly, almost 
 tenderly, he spoke: " Peotr Konstantinovitch, take vengeance 
 vengeance for yourself and us !" 
 
 Petya started. " Vengeance ?" He looked at Pravdin as 
 one half comprehending some dread thing. " Vengeance !" 
 
 " Yes," murmured the other. " Vengeance for all your 
 sufferings." 
 
 Orloff thrust him aside, feverishly intent now on the 
 thought he had made his own. " Yes," he whispered, as 
 though unconscious of the other's presence; " yes ... it is 
 true. ... I will take vengeance . . . vengeance. . . ." 
 
 He bent once more over his instruments and calculations. 
 The signals streamed through the electric nerves, and the 
 searchlights poured once more their merciless glare over 
 Peressip. Pravdin noticed that he was again working 
 mechanically, as in sleep, yet the tears dropped from his eyes 
 and from time to time he stopped, unable to see. 
 
 " Ready !" 
 
 Petya Orloff folded his hands; his lips were moving, 
 though without sound, in prayer. 
 
 Shaking with sobs, but still without a word, he touched the 
 keys once more, and ordered : 
 
 " Fire !"
 
 368 KATYA 
 
 And now his fingers never left the keys. Ceaselessly he 
 bade them load and fire, calling at ever-decreasing intervals 
 the clamorous guns to hurl their thunder-sped destruction. 
 Wilder and wilder grew the play of the keys, and faster came 
 his tears. The Admiral of the mutineers sobbed at his 
 deadly work. 
 
 It was a day of judgment, a ruthless hour of reckoning for 
 Peressip. Fire and flung steel wrought pitilessly among the 
 grey-walled houses by the Black Sea. General Karatayef's 
 monument of victory was wrecked to a formless ruin; the 
 headstone raised above the grave of Petya's youth and hope 
 crashed into flaming demolition. 
 
 Novaya Ekaterinskaya was a line of mounting, furious fire, 
 extended here and there and broken by explosions of the 
 stores of bombs and dynamite. The ruins fell and massed like 
 avalanche on avalanche below. Ammunition spluttered through 
 wrecked roofs towards the sky; windows were splintered by 
 the heat or smashed by casual shot. Deserted machine-guns 
 stood shakingly vomiting their last missiles before they, too, 
 succumbed. Oil and petroleum caught and flared, ignited 
 gas poured streams of fire abroad, lighting all woodwork 
 within reach. Poisonous smoke was flung down over the 
 scarce distinguishable streets, and lifted again and lost in a 
 sea of rising flame, that flung the darkness of the night aside, 
 shedding crude light upon the devastation of the land and 
 desolation of the sea. 
 
 There was no more fighting now in Peressip ; none cared for 
 anything save flight. There was no thought of enemy or 
 friend; men flung themselves by hundreds into the sea; 
 thousands fled southward to the plateau, or westward, where 
 the dread shells had no mission. The soldiers cleared a way 
 for the insurgents as well as for the peaceful folk who had 
 never lifted hand against authority. The cordon which 
 Olenin had drawn around the suburb broke helplessly, nor 
 was it possible, had any wished, to stem the human flood 
 that poured from the tortured wreck which had been Peressip. 
 The crew of the Pobieda fled from their ship and saw it sink. 
 All the available boats in the harbour rowed to the shore in 
 front of Peressip, endeavouring to save the fugitives who 
 were crying for aid. Carts and ambulances moved round to 
 the westward to take up the sick and wounded who were
 
 THE ADMIRAL 369 
 
 seeking safety by land. The municipal gas-works cut off the 
 supply to avoid further feeding the flames. In the western 
 part of the suburb firemen were doing what they could to 
 extinguish the conflagration. Novaya Ekaterinskaya and its 
 immediate surroundings had long since been abandoned. For 
 miles across the sea men saw the towering flames from the 
 slum that was named after Katya Rilinski. 
 
 As long as a shell remained to feed the guns, the Admiral 
 Orloff fired unceasingly. The men toiled and sweated over 
 the heavy ammunition, exciting themselves with drink. 
 They danced half-naked about the guns, howling with horrible 
 laughter, and roaring with wild delight at the sight of the 
 destruction they wrought. 
 
 Before the last shots had been fired, Pravdin left the ship 
 in the same boat which had brought him on board. 
 
 Up in his armoured tower the Admiral wept at his work. 
 
 Captain Orloff called up two of the senior officers, and in- 
 formed them that he took upon himself the full responsibility 
 for what had been done that day. 
 
 " The disgrace which I have brought upon my name," he 
 said, " can never be wiped out; as little as the innocent blood 
 upon my hands. The easiest thing would be to shoot myself. 
 It may be God will understand that I had no evil thought. . . . 
 But let me at least, before I die, do what I can to save you 
 whom I have led into it all. I am going ashore now to give 
 myself up to Prince Olenin. He and my judges shall know 
 that you have only obeyed my orders. . . . After all, they 
 can only kill me and the sooner they do so the better. ..." 
 
 The men begged and prayed of him to stay on board and 
 share what fate might fall to their lot and that of the crew. 
 But Petya answered them gently that for once he would have 
 his own way. 
 
 " The Admiral Orloff is no longer of any value to the cause 
 which we have called ' the cause of freedom "... I hardly 
 know why. . . . We have not a single shot on board. . . . 
 We cannot even work our own destruction . . . and in any 
 case, I would not be a party to the wrecking of a ship which is 
 the Tsar's, and which bears my father's name. ..." 
 
 " Nor we, Your Excellency." 
 
 " But there is no need for you to give yourselves up. It 
 
 24
 
 370 KATYA 
 
 is enough that I do so. Prince Olenin will be glad enough to 
 have ' the Admiral ' in his power. ..." 
 
 " Remember Pravdin's words, Your Excellency. Russia 
 will honour your name. . . ." 
 
 "No; hate it, curse it, and despise . . ." He strove to 
 control himself. " But you can get away if you will. There 
 is sufficient store of coal, provisions, and water on board. 
 Get out to sea and make your escape. The Pobieda has gone 
 to the bottom ; the Dniepr is hardly in a condition to do harm 
 even if she would. Make for a foreign port Roumanian, Bul- 
 garian, Turkish and leave the Admiral Orloff there. The 
 Tsar will fetch it back all right. And you will be out of 
 reach. . . . The rest you can leave to me." 
 
 The officers tried once more to persuade him to go with them, 
 but less resolutely now, occupied as they already were with 
 the need of making good their own escape. With its own 
 undisciplined crew and empty magazines, the Admiral 
 Orloff would be an easy prey for a handful of determined men. 
 Petya pointed out also that as soon as the telegraph service 
 was restored which might already have been done word 
 would be sent for warships from Sevastopol, and then it 
 would only be a matter of hours. Pravdin had left the ship 
 without a word ; he had no further use for it, and he and his 
 sought only to escape under cover of the general confusion 
 ashore. It was but natural that the Admiral Orloff' s crew 
 should also think of flight. 
 
 Before commencing preparations, the officers took leave 
 of Petya. They kissed his hands and cheeks, and honoured 
 him as a saint. In vain he strove to hinder their protesta- 
 tions of respect and affection. 
 
 " I thank you, my children," he said. " Do not forget 
 that I have never wished any harm to you or those ashore. . . . 
 And tell the men so to-morrow, when you are safely out at 
 sea. . . . Tell them my last words to them all asked their 
 forgiveness." 
 
 Nothing was said to the crew as to the Admiral's decision. 
 Reliable men were sought out, and the work distributed as 
 far as possible. The engineer officer, the only one who had 
 joined the mutineers, was informed of the task awaiting him. 
 In silence a boat was lowered into the water. Meanwhile 
 all orders were still issued in Captain Orloff's name.
 
 THE ADMIRAL 371 
 
 Petya went below to change his coat ; the full-dress uniform 
 irked his mind. The door of the officers' mess stood open, 
 and he glanced in. He stood a moment looking round the 
 room. The disorder within was not so great as he had 
 expected. Suddenly the blood rushed to his head, and he 
 gave a cry. The great picture of Admiral Orloff, which hung 
 upon the wall had been torn from its frame, and on the back 
 of the canvas was written : 
 
 " A father's curse upon his scoundrel son !" 
 
 Petya hurried away to his cabin, which he had not seen 
 for nearly three weeks, and locked the door after him. 
 
 Some letters lay on the table. There was one from his 
 sister Olga, in Turkestan, that he put in his pocket. There 
 was a thick envelope, addressed in Latin characters; the 
 writing he did not know. And one from Katya. 
 
 He opened the last, and read : 
 
 " Petya, my darling, come back to me. All is changed 
 since you went away. You were angry, and you did not 
 understand. Petya, I need you; come to me, as you pro- 
 mised. And we will row and steer together. Send me a 
 word to say you have heard me and will come. 
 
 " Yours and yours enly, 
 
 " KATYA." 
 
 Orloff laid the letter down; his thoughts were chaos. H 
 looked round the cabin as though seeking something which 
 could help him to understand. But there was nothing. All 
 the familiar objects about him thrust themselves upon his 
 mind, seeming to ask of him importunately to fix them in his 
 consciousness. He found himself thinking of irrelevant things 
 . . . the portraits there of Prince and Princess Rilinski were 
 not good likenesses. . . . The silk ribbon with the queer 
 lettering had been given him by a Japanese officer; he had 
 perhaps since fought against the Russian fleet at Tsushima. . . . 
 That photo of Katya as a girl was growing sadly faded . . . 
 and the double portrait of his parents needed a new frame. ..." 
 
 " All is changed !" . . . What did she mean by that ? Date 
 and postmark showed that the hastily written lines had been 
 sent off on the day following Petya's flight. What could have 
 happened ? . . . But Katya was right : now all was changed
 
 37* KATYA 
 
 indeed. And now that she called, knowing she needed him, 
 now it was late too late. . . . Poor Katya ! . . . 
 
 He took up the letter with the Latin characters and opened 
 it. It was from Farringham. 
 
 He read at first idly, then astonished, at last avidly devour- 
 ing. Man spoke to man. Although written in French, a 
 tongue foreign both to him who wrote and him who read, its 
 words yet reached from heart to heart. Petya knew now 
 why Katya needed him. So she had steered . . . and now 
 it was all too late. 
 
 There was no strength in Petya's mind for more excite- 
 ment. An intense weariness weighed him down, body and 
 soul; he longed for the respite of peace that prison would 
 bring. And these letters that reached him now, when all 
 was over, shed but a gentle, almost kindly melancholy. He 
 smiled sadly, feeling sorry for himself as for another soul. 
 Fate had been very merciless, though he had wished no evil 
 to any. But sufferings were over now his judges could not 
 refuse him death. 
 
 Both Katya's letter and Farringham's he tore in small 
 pieces, which he put in his pocket. The portrait of Katya 
 he kissed once and destroyed. He made a genuflection before 
 the eikon which had been his father's, and, leaving the cabin, 
 went quietly on deck to take his place in the boat. 
 
 The mutineer officers covered their Admiral's departure as 
 far as possible, keeping the men away from the side. 
 
 When he had left the ship some way behind, Petya took 
 out the fragments of the letters from his pockets, and strewed 
 them over the water. 
 
 Away to the north the flames from Novaya Ekaterinskaya 
 lit up the shore. Behind him the lights of the Admiral 
 Orloff went out ; "fhe mutineers were getting up anchor, ready 
 to slip away in the dark. 
 
 Petya brought his boat alongside in front of the high, 
 broad stairway that leads from the coal quay to the Niko- 
 laiefski. Everything was silent, dark, and deserted. Not 
 until he reached the boulevard did he meet police, who 
 saluted stiffly at sight of his uniform. It was impossible to 
 see who was the man that bore it. Cavalry patrols passed 
 him unheeding. 
 
 Outside the offices of the Governor-General a number o{
 
 THE ADMIRAL 373 
 
 horsemen were assembled. The entrance and stairs were in 
 darkness; there was neither gas nor electricity in all Odessa 
 that night. 
 
 In one of the outer offices, lit with candles and small 
 lamps, messengers and orderlies were waiting. Petya asked 
 for Prince Olenin. 
 
 " His Highness is not here," answered one of the messengers. 
 " But if Your Honour is the officer expected from the Dniepr, 
 I am to inform Count Dolgoruki . . ." 
 
 " Good. Show me in to Count Dolgoruki. . . ." 
 
 " Your Honour's name, if I may . . ." 
 
 " Captain Orloff." 
 
 The men started and stepped back, staring in silent 
 astonishment at the Admiral of mutineers. The man with 
 whom he had spoken moved hesitatingly to the inner office. 
 No one spoke; in the breathless silence one could hear the 
 whispered singing of the lamps. 
 
 Count Dolgoruki appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Good-evening, Gavril Ivanovitch," said Petya, in a quiet, 
 natural voice, offering his hand. The Count placed his hands 
 behind his back. 
 
 Petya lowered his eyes. " I have come to give myself up," 
 he said. 
 
 " Follow me." Count Dolgoruki's tone was hard and cold. 
 
 The two men passed into the inner office. 
 
 " If you have any weapon on your person," said the Count, 
 " kindly give it up." He rang a bell. 
 
 Petya took Pravdin's revolver from his pocket and laid it 
 on the table. 
 
 " Is that all ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The orderly appeared, and was sent to fetch the Chief of 
 Staff, Colonel Karasin, and a guard. 
 
 " No guard is needed, Gavril Ivanovitch," said Petya. " I 
 am alone, and unarmed; I will go where you wish to send 
 me." 
 
 The other did not answer. He was pale, and his hands 
 trembled. 
 
 A moment later the Chief of Staff appeared, followed by 
 ten men with fixed bayonets. 
 
 " Scoundrel ! Perjurer ! Traitor !" The Colonel stood
 
 37.4 KATYA 
 
 trembling with fury, and shook his clenched hand before 
 Petya's face. 
 
 But Petya only shook his head; the shadow of a weary 
 smile passed over his face. 
 
 The Count and the Chief of Staff whispered together. As 
 soon as they had agreed as to their dispositions, the Colonel 
 made a sign to the soldiers, who surrounded the prisoner and 
 tied his hands. As they drew the cords, Petya lifted his 
 eyes towards the Count. 
 
 " Bring Sonya greeting from me, Gavril Ivanovitch. And 
 Katya. Tell Katya that her letter came too late. If I had 
 known, she should not have called in vain." 
 
 The doors were opened, and between a double line of 
 bayonets the Admiral passed to his prison. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 
 
 ADVOCATE MANDELBERG was spending busy days with in- 
 surance policies and works of reference, seeking advice among 
 the cleverest of his colleagues, consulting the legal faculty of 
 Odessa. No trouble or expense was spared in the days 
 following the Admiral Orloff's bombardment of Peressip. All 
 was in vain, however; there was no possibility of evading the 
 clear wording of the policies. " No compensation," ran the 
 clause, " can be claimed on account of damage caused by 
 war, revolt, civil disturbance, or breach of the national peace." 
 Inquiries at the Government offices brought as little result. 
 Count Gavril Dolgoruki was, on account of his wife's large 
 holdings, naturally disposed to support Mandelberg in his 
 endeavours to obtain payment of compensation to the owners 
 of property in Peressip. But even he could give no hope 
 that the State would render any assistance. The tenants of 
 the houses owned by the families of Rilinski and Karatayef 
 in the quarter near the harbour had been sworn enemies of 
 the State and society miscreants, murderers, and revolu- 
 tionaries, Officers from the Pobieda could testify that Cap- 
 tain Orloff had been in communication with a signal station 
 in Novaya Ekaterinskaya itself, and that the signals sent
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 375 
 
 late in the evening had actually demanded the bombard- 
 ment of Peressip. In the case of the houses on the edge of 
 the plateau, it was possible that after the lapse of years, when 
 all had been threshed out and examined, the State might make 
 some compensation as an act of Imperial generosity, and 
 not in fulfilment of any legal claim. But the owners of 
 Peressip never ! 
 
 The shares of the Kherson Bank fell in those days below 
 par. The losses incurred by the Bank and by the families 
 of Rilinski and Karatayef amounted to millions of roubles. 
 The newer portions of the quarter, lying west and north of the 
 part built in the eighties by Prince Sergei Rilinski and General 
 Karatayef, were almost unharmed. But the great mass of 
 buildings immediately below the plateau and nearest the 
 Local Traffic Harbour all that in the old days had been 
 marked in red and green on General Karatayef's plans lay 
 now in smoking ruins. Of all that Peressip which owed its 
 origin to the union between the Rilinskis and the Karatayefs, 
 one single edifice alone survived that day of destruction. 
 Above the ruined slum still rose the three blue cupolas of the 
 Church of St. Sofia, unharmed by fire and steel. 
 
 For a week or more after the terrible day, communication 
 between Odessa and the outer world remained irregular and 
 uncertain. In the town itself, however, all was quiet. The 
 few slight disturbances which took place were due to the 
 presence of " the Admiral." When he passed, in a closed 
 carriage, and with an escort of Cossacks, from his prison to 
 the Government offices, where the military tribunal was held, 
 hundreds of people lined the streets to catch a glimpse of him. 
 During the whole of the time the trial lasted there was never 
 a single hostile demonstration against him. Several scenes 
 of excitement, however, took place: mothers held their 
 children forth that he might bless them with his bound hands ; 
 hysterical women tried to fling themselves under the wheels 
 of his carriage or the hoofs of the escort's horses; young men 
 knelt with bared heads beside the way he passed. Naive 
 little songs, originating none knew whence, were distributed 
 among the poorer classes, greeting him with melancholy 
 acclaim. A photographer, who still possessed the plate of a 
 portrait, taken ten years before, of Lieutenant P. K. Orloff,
 
 376 KATYA 
 
 sold copies by the hundred; and crudely coloured pictures of 
 more originality than truth were exhibited everywhere. 
 Andrei, the old dvornik at Khersonskaya 51, and his wife 
 Arina, found themselves famous. Their statements in the 
 court and to friends and relations soon made Orloff's relation 
 to Pashka known to all the town. 
 
 Petya received a score of applications from advocates in 
 Odessa, Kief, Moscow, and St. Petersburg, anxious to under- 
 take his defence. He himself, however, desired no aid. 
 When it was pointed out to him that, unless he made a choice, 
 the court would appoint a counsel for the accused, he took 
 the first letter that came to hand. The lot fell to a young 
 and famous advocate from Moscow, who based his defence 
 upon the theory that his client had been so shaken by 
 Pashka's death that all his subsequent actions were to be 
 regarded as the utterances of an unsound mind. Andrei and 
 his wife, the policeman who had helped Orloff home, the 
 officer of Cossacks who had spoken to him in the Novaya 
 Ekaterinskaya, and a number of those who had heard his 
 speech in the cemetery, were called as witnesses for the 
 defence, and Petya's counsel demanded a psychiatric examina- 
 tion of his client. Orloff, however, protested strongly against 
 this idea, and the resulting disagreement between the advo- 
 cate and his client was such that Petya at last refused to 
 receive his counsel. " The Admiral " answered frankly all 
 questions put to him concerning the events that had occurred. 
 He repeated as far as possible word for word the oath that had 
 been sworn on board, and did everything in his power to 
 assist the progress of the trial. Neither his judges nor the 
 counsel for the prosecution had any doubt as to the truth 
 of his statements. His stay at Priluka due, it appeared, to 
 Princess Rilinski's illness and death was of no importance 
 in cross-examination. Pravdin's name he never mentioned, 
 though it was repeatedly cited by his counsel, who knew it 
 to be false. 
 
 The disagreement between Petya and his counsel was not 
 only due to the latter's attempt to prove his client insane. 
 A like difference made itself evident in their statements as to 
 the actions for which " the Admiral " was called to account. 
 The advocate tried to prove that Petya had acted under 
 coercion on the part of the mutineers now in Roumania,
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 377 
 
 where the Government refused to give them up, regarding 
 them as political misdemeanants. The counsel for the 
 defence declared that the whole responsibility lay with these 
 men, whom it was impossible to produce. OrlofI, however, 
 solemnly declared that he and he alone was responsible for all 
 that had happened after his arrival on board. His orders, and 
 his only, had been obeyed. 
 
 On these points the prosecution was so strongly supported 
 by the accused that the latter's counsel could make no head- 
 way. On the other hand, there was one side of the case where 
 the position was reversed. To all questions regarding his 
 motives for partaking in the bloodshed of the revolt, the 
 accused returned such vague and unsatisfactory replies that 
 it was impossible to make anything of his statements. The 
 advocate from Moscow was pitiless here, and took every oppor- 
 tunity of emphasizing this point. The many witnesses who 
 had testified to Orloff having spoken at the cemetery of 
 " the Tsar's holy name," the " faithful subjects of the Tsar," 
 were sufficiently in agreement with Petya's own version of the 
 oath sworn on board the Admiral Orloff : " We will fight for 
 our loved father the Tsar," or " We will fight for the Tsar, 
 our country, its people, and their freedom." Was this the 
 oath of a mutineer ? How could such words be brought to 
 harmonize with Orloff' s activity in connection with a revolt, 
 the object of which, as evidenced by confessions already 
 made before other courts, was to proclaim a republic ? 
 
 The counsel for the defence bombarded his client with 
 questions as to his political opinions, and his interpretation 
 of the word " freedom." Petya's answers were vague, often 
 contradictory. During cross-examination he was suddenly 
 asked whether he were a republican. He answered with some 
 passion that he had told the revolutionary leader in the 
 cemetery, immediately after his speech by the grave, that he 
 considered the idea of a republic as madness, and would have 
 nothing to do with anything of the sort. " And yet/' 
 insisted his counsel, '' you maintain that you, and you alone, 
 are responsible for the Admiral Orloff's work in the republican 
 cause ?" Petya attempted explanation, but in so rambling 
 and unintelligible a fashion that he himself at last was forced 
 to give up. 
 
 " I repeat my claim," thundered his counsel, " for a
 
 37 KATYA 
 
 psychiatric examination of my client by experts to be 
 appointed by the medical faculty of any university outside 
 Odessa." 
 
 " I protest I" said Petya, stamping his foot. 
 
 " I agree with the accused," said the prosecuting counsel. 
 " My learned colleague persistently confuses lack of ability 
 in logical thought with insanity. Neither this court nor any 
 other can undertake a psychiatric examination of the Russian 
 Revolution." 
 
 " I protest against that expression. The present trial is 
 not concerned with an idea, which it pleases my learned 
 colleague to style The Revolution, but a man of flesh and blood, 
 Captain P. K. Orloff, whom I have the honour to defend." 
 
 " I submit that the vehemence of my honoured opponent 
 is uncalled for," answered the prosecuting counsel. " I have 
 no desire to convey more than the indisputable fact that the 
 man of flesh and blood, my learned colleague's client, is a 
 kind of military personification of the idea of the Russian 
 Revolution, which fights with criminal means for vague, 
 indefinite objects. My honoured opponent will no doubt 
 challenge my right to use the word ' criminal ' in this con- 
 nection. Fortunately, the accused himself is of another 
 opinion. He has, according to his own confession, made all 
 the calculations necessary for the direction of the rebel war- 
 ship's artillery calculations which demanded not only 
 technical knowledge, but also presence of mind and clearness 
 of brain, in order to give such painfully successful results 
 as we, alas 1 have seen. And all this was done with the direct 
 intention of causing misery and death to innocent persons ..." 
 
 Petya covered his face with his hands. 
 
 "... without any possibility of achieving aught save 
 death and misery. It is of no importance to the high court 
 here assembled, or to myself, to receive a medico-legal 
 declaration to the effect that the accused's political views are 
 those of a child. If it can be any satisfaction to my learned 
 colleague, I am perfectly willing to admit that his client is 
 entirely lacking in political understanding. But the calcu- 
 lations made, the orders given, on board the Admiral Orloff, 
 which rendered the ship so deadly a weapon in the revolu- 
 tionary cause, were not the work of an unsound mind. We 
 have heard from the mouths of witnesses that the accused had
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 379 
 
 the reputation of being skilled in matters connected with 
 ordnance; he has proved that it was well deserved. In a 
 case of so dire importance as that before the high tribunal, 
 legal quibbles and hair-splitting prevarication would be . . ." 
 
 " I protest !" shouted the counsel for the defence excitedly. 
 " I demand the protection of the high court against this un- 
 worthy . . ." 
 
 The President signed to the prosecuting counsel to proceed. 
 
 "... would be sadly out of place. Let us look fairly at 
 realities as they stand, as, I am bound to admit, the accused 
 himself seems at times inclined to do. The accused was 
 ignorant of the object he himself and his mysterious asso- 
 ciates were endeavouring to obtain. It is probable that they 
 have disagreed upon that point as is frequently the case 
 with revolutionaries in this country. One thing, however, 
 must have been evident obvious to the accused: that he 
 was placing his knowledge and power at the service of mur- 
 derers. Hundreds of innocent men, women, and children 
 have died by his hand. His brain was clear, his aim was 
 true and the innocent who were his target without defence.'" 
 
 Shaking with sobs, Petya begged his judges for sentence 
 of death. But his counsel fought desperately for the psy- 
 chiatric examination. His wish was granted and Petya's 
 sufferings were further prolonged. 
 
 But the cult which had arisen among the people, who 
 worshipped their " Admiral " as a hero-martyr, received fresh 
 nourishment from all that came to common knowledge 
 through the counsel and witnesses for the defence. In work- 
 shops and factories, in the harbour and on the quays, in 
 dram-shops of the slums, men sang of Petya and his mur- 
 dered love. The crews of the fleet and the workers in the 
 shipyards of Sevastopol took up the songs, that soon reached 
 far and wide along the Russian coast of the Black Sea. The 
 prosecuting counsel had been right: hundreds of innocent 
 had fallen by Petya's hand men, women, and children, 
 mostly of the poorest class and more had lost their poor 
 effects in the destruction of Peressip. But the people forgave. 
 The prosecuting counsel did not understand; his colleague 
 for the defence could find no other explanation of Petya's 
 action but insanity. The people knew or thought they 
 understood. They had heard a human heart-beat under all.
 
 380 KATYA 
 
 Their own ideals were echoed in Petya's faith in the Tsar, 
 the ruler by grace of God his simple, unshakable belief 
 in freedom. They were as little capable as Petya himself of 
 any political discussion. But, as Petya, they had writhed 
 beneath the pitiless lash of fate; as he, they had felt the 
 bitterness of isolation. 
 
 Captain Orloff might have saved himself. He had stayed 
 and shouldered his responsibility as a man, when all the other 
 leaders of revolt had fled from Odessa. He had had all to 
 lose, nothing to gain, in joining the cause for which he had 
 fought. Faithfully had he answered to the call that asked 
 his aid for the weak and persecuted in their hour of need. 
 The innocent blood was a sacrifice inevitable in the cause of 
 freedom; it would never stain his hands. God would be 
 merciful to the noble soul that had loved the people so; God 
 would be with him now, on his lonely way to martyrdom for 
 the cause of the helpless and oppressed. . . . 
 
 Count Dolgoruki had written to Sonya, telling her all that 
 had passed. At the same time he communicated to Katya 
 Orloff's words on the evening he had given himself up. 
 
 It was more than a week before the letters reached Priluka. 
 Sonya wrote in reply to her husband that she and Katya 
 would proceed to Kief as soon as possible, and thence to 
 Odessa by the first train to which they dared entrust them- 
 selves. The Count's letter had come as a terrific thunderclap 
 from among the gathering clouds of unrest. The district 
 about Priluka had been disturbed for some time. Socialists 
 and Anarchists had distributed pamphlets among the peasants, 
 informing them that the Tsar had given them permission, as 
 his true and faithful subjects, to take possession of the land- 
 owners' estates, the harvest of their fields, their cattle, horses, 
 and other property. These papers, some of which even bore 
 the signature " Nikolai II.," made a deep impression on the 
 minds of the peasants. Mikailo had heard that Vladimir 
 Shipagin's estate of Patkanovo had been plundered, Shipagin 
 himself and his old mother being forced to seek safety in 
 flight. Suspicious persons had made their appearance near 
 Priluka, and guard was kept night and day. And the general 
 feeling of insecurity was increased by the lack of all news 
 from the world without. 
 
 "Ever since Petya's and M. Farringham's sudden depar
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 381 
 
 ture," wrote Sonya, " Katya has been so nervous and ex- 
 citable that we feared for her health. In spite of the un- 
 certain state of the roads, she sends messenger after messenger 
 to Dubni for letters. They aU come back empty-handed, 
 however, and we had not the least knowledge of what was 
 going on elsewhere in Russia until your letter eight days 
 late arrived yesterday. It is terrible about Petya terrible ! 
 Thank God neither papa nor mama lived to see it. Do all 
 that possibly can be done to help him, dear. You know 
 him, and you know that he never wished ill to any soul on 
 earth. He needs our deepest sympathy now. Katya talks 
 of going to the Tsar himself, to intercede for him. And it is 
 true when she says that neither papa nor mama would have 
 known rest until every means had been tried. ..." 
 
 At the same time as Count Dolgoruki received his wife's 
 letter, a few lines from Katya arrived at the old house in the 
 Konnaya, announcing her impending arrival. " I will come 
 to Odessa if I have to walk every step of the way," she wrote 
 in a hurried, shakey scrawl. 
 
 General Karatayef read the note, and passed it to Anna 
 Nikolaievna. She glanced through it, and merely said: 
 ' Thank you, grandpapa. I will see that mama's rooms are 
 got ready." 
 
 As soon as she had gone, the General rang for Yussuf. 
 The Albanian appeared. He had long since discarded the 
 gorgeous uniform he had worn as Niki's kavass, and was 
 dressed now as an ordinary Russian citizen of the middle 
 class. 
 
 " Your Excellency sent for me ?" 
 
 " Yes, Yussuf, my friend. Listen to me, for I mean what 
 I say. To-day you shall go with me to Peressip." 
 
 Yussuf shook his head. " Your Excellency knows I dare 
 not do it, unless Anna Nikolaievna gives permission." 
 
 " Sh 1 Yussuf, my good friend, say nothing to her about 
 it. Come, now; I have still some little savings left a little, 
 a very little. You shall have it if you will only go with 
 me. . . ." 
 
 "It is no use, Your Excellency. Anna Nikolaievna and 
 M. Mandelberg have expressly forbidden me to take Your 
 Excellency there. I dare not do it. And there is nothing to 
 see. It is not nearly so bad as people say. . . ."
 
 382 KATYA 
 
 "If only I could.. . . if only I dared go alone. . . ." 
 The General reached for his sticks. " You are cruel, all of 
 you; you take advantage of a weak and helpless old man. . . . 
 And you, Yussuf, have I not always been good to you ? . . ." 
 
 " Your Excellency should not speak so. Anna Nikolaievna 
 and I are ready and glad to do all that Your Excellency 
 wishes, if only it is reasonable. But that little fire in Peressip, 
 it is not worth going a step to see." 
 
 " You lie to me, all of you Mandelberg as well. I am 
 ruined. Not a kopek will there be for little Anna. . . . For 
 the good God's sake, Yussuf, let me see if you have spoken 
 truth, or if it is all but lies. ..." 
 
 Anna Nikolaievna entered, and exchanged a glance with 
 Yussuf. The latter shrugged his shoulders, as though to say : 
 " The old story !" The General watched them closely, 
 suspiciously. 
 
 ' There, grandpapa, the carriage will be here directly, and 
 then we will go for a drive out to Arkadia. We can go through 
 the Nikolaiefski ; you like that way. Uncle Gavril said this 
 morning that Odessa has never been so quiet as it is now, 
 so w r e need not be in the least afraid." 
 
 The old man raised his hands in helpless, piteous appeal to- 
 wards the girl. 
 
 " Anna, little Anna, my child, be good to me ... let me 
 see with my own eyes. Remember, it is my life's work for 
 your father and yourself. . . . Little Anna, be merciful. ..." 
 
 She sat down on the arm of his chair, and took his head in 
 to her breast as though he were her child. " Grandpapa, 
 dear, dear grandpapa, do not ask me ... do not ask me any 
 more. Can you not believe us all when we tell you that it is 
 not so bad, after all ? It is not lost, your life's work. You 
 know Mandelberg has always served you faithfully; you can 
 believe him when he says ..." 
 
 " I can hear that you are lying, little Anna. Mandelberg, 
 too, and Yussuf all of you whom I care for you lie to me, 
 and will not move a hand to help me. I am alone . . . there 
 is no one that is true any more. God's wrath is come upon 
 me now that I am old . . . there is no mercy. ..." 
 
 Anna and Yussuf looked at each other, as seeking counsel. 
 The girl stroked the old man's hand. 
 
 " Grandpapa," she said, " let us go for a drive out to
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 383 
 
 Arkadia now, and when mama comes, then perhaps she and 
 Aunt Sonya will go out with you to Peressip. . . ." 
 
 The General slowly drew his hand away. " No," he said 
 sharply. " I will see Peressip with my own eyes before your 
 mother comes. I will see ..." He broke off suddenly. 
 
 Yussuf turned from the window where he was standing, 
 and announced that the carriage had arrived. The General 
 began again entreatingly : 
 
 " Anna, have pity I Have I deserved it of your father, of 
 you, that you should be so hard and cruel now ? Anna, little 
 Anna, let me have peace 1 Better the truth any truth 
 than fear and nothing known. ..." 
 
 The girl rose. " Grandpapa," she said, her voice betraying 
 her emotion, " stay here a moment with Yussuf, while I go 
 up and speak to Mandelberg. I will be back in a moment, 
 and tell you what he says." 
 
 Scarcely had the door closed behind her before the old 
 General again attempted with prayers and promises to per- 
 suade Yussuf to take him out to Peressip. But Niki's 
 kavass was not to be moved. 
 
 Anna Nikolaievna found the advocate deep in calculations. 
 She told him of her grandfather's repeated entreaties; now, 
 since the arrival of Katya's letter, more insistent than ever. 
 
 " I cannot stand it any longer, Yakof Isakovitch," she 
 said. " Grandpapa has never complained before, but now 
 he is like a sick child. He knows perfectly well that we are 
 all deceiving him, and really I do not think it is any kindness 
 to hide things from him any longer." 
 
 " It is a heavy burden that is laid on your young shoulders, 
 Anna Nikolaievna," said the advocate. " Seventeen . . . 
 no older than your mother was when she became engaged to 
 Niki. . . . Yes, yes, the matter in hand. . . . Should I go 
 down perhaps with you and try to . . ." 
 
 " It is no use, Yakof Isakovitch. He will no longer believe 
 either your word or mine." 
 
 " The fact is h'm I don't quite know how to put it. ..." 
 
 " You may speak quite frankly to me, Yakof Isakovitch. 
 My uncle has already told me that the disaster is as bad as 
 it well can be." 
 
 " Of course, the ground will retain its value. And the 
 stone and timber will be worth something. . . . Still, after
 
 384 KATYA 
 
 all, the loss is enormous. Your fortune, as General Kara- 
 tayef's principal heir, will be reduced by something like a 
 million roubles. ... It is no use my hiding it from you, 
 Anna Nikolaievna." 
 
 "Never mind my fortune, Yakof Isakovitch; grandpapa 
 is waiting." 
 
 But the advocate continued, his pen following the columns 
 of figures on the paper before him. " Your mother loses 
 practically all her own personal fortune, both that inherited 
 from her father and the houses made over to her on her 
 wedding day. The pension from the State has not yet been 
 granted. I do not see how Ekaterina Sergeievna will manage 
 when Priluka passes to your cousin, Prince Alexander Alex- 
 androvitch, next year. ..." 
 
 " My grandfather is waiting." 
 
 " Can you understand, Anna Nikolaievna, how an old 
 friend of your house, a man like Orloff, could find it in his 
 heart . . ." 
 
 " It may be that I understand. I also have once sailed on 
 board the Admiral Orloff." 
 
 11 You ? When was that ?" 
 
 " Two years ago, when they brought my father's body to 
 Odessa. ..." 
 
 " Yes, yes of course. And you think . . ." 
 
 Anna Nikolaievna cut him short: " We are forgetting my 
 grandfather, Yakof Isakovitch." 
 
 " Do you think your grandfather also understands . . . 
 h'm, how am I to ... I mean . . ." 
 
 " My grandfather understands as well as I do. Even if 
 we do not say anything to each other, we both know also 
 about Captain Orloff and mama. And now we have spoken 
 enough of this, Yakof Isakovitch; I do not like to leave my 
 grandfather alone." 
 
 " Forgive me, Anna Nikolaievna, but you will understand 
 my deep interest in this sad affair. For more than twenty- 
 five years I have been in the confidence of your family, both 
 on your father's and your mother's side; Orloff, too, I know 
 well. He came up here one day, I remember, to this very 
 office, and sat there asking questions about Peressip on 
 behalf of a friend, he said. It was but a few days after your 
 parents' engagement had been announced at Priluka. . . .
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 385 
 
 You are right, Anna Nikolaievna ; there is much that one does 
 not understand until it is too late." 
 
 " Dare we take the responsibility of further preventing my 
 grandfather from visiting Peressip, Yakof Isakovitch ? If 
 only Aunt Sonya were here ! She and grandfather are so 
 fond of each other." 
 
 " The doctor what does the doctor say ?" 
 
 " Always the same thing: beyond the weakness in his legs, 
 there is nothing whatever the matter." 
 
 " Perhaps we might . . . that is to say, if you will prepare 
 the General as gently as possible, Anna Nikolaievna. As 
 gently as possible ... it will be a terrible shock . . . and 
 at his age. . . ." 
 
 " But when the fear and uncertainty are making him suffer, 
 the truth can scarcely . . . Oh, I wish Aunt Sonya were 
 here !" 
 
 " You cannot persuade the General to wait so long ?" 
 
 " He plagues Yussuf every day to go with him, and he is 
 beginning to feel bitter towards me. ... It is cruel, and 
 for my father's sake also . . ." 
 
 " Then, try it, Anna Nikolaievna, try it. Go with him, and 
 stay beside him. You are the one he loves best in all the 
 world. I myself can be of little use, I fear. The General is 
 too clever a man to be deceived by phrases and evasive 
 explanations. I have already noticed that he is perfectly 
 aware of the invalidity of the policies, in spite of all my 
 attempts to make matters look brighter. Try it, Anna 
 Nikolaievna; you can help him if anyone can." 
 
 When Anna re-entered the room where the General sat, the 
 old man fixed his eyes upon her, like a prisoner striving to 
 read his sentence in the eyes of his judge. 
 
 She told him as carefully as possible what he must expect. 
 They had hidden the truth from him, she said, fearing lest 
 the shock should be too much for him at first. " But do not 
 mind about the money, dear grandpapa. It is so little a 
 thing that I lose some part of what you wished to give me. 
 Father and you have given me an inheritance that nothing 
 can take away. I love you both and I thank you, dear, 
 dear grandpapa, because I love you so. . . ." 
 
 He took her in his arms, and grew more calm, as though 
 her words had brought him peace of mind. " Child," he 
 
 25
 
 386 KATYA 
 
 whispered, " when you speak so, I almost dare to think that 
 God has forgiven me. For your love's sake He has willed 
 that I should not live in vain. . . . Lord, now lettest Thou 
 Thy servant. . . ." 
 
 He bowed his head, and the words died in a murmur. Then, 
 taking his sticks, and leaning heavily on Yussuf's arm, he 
 rose and went down to the waiting carriage. Anna Niko- 
 laievna placed herself by his side, and took his hand. 
 
 They drove in a wide sweep to the west round behind the 
 Municipal Hospital. That part of Peressip which could be 
 seen from here the part farthest from the coast was un- 
 harmed. But as the carriage passed along the edge of the 
 plateau, nearing the steep roads that lead down to the low- 
 lying fields, the extent of the destruction became mercilessly 
 apparent. And when they drew up at the entrance to Novaya 
 Ekaterinskaya, the whole of that ghastly scene of wreckage 
 and ruin lay spread out before the General's eyes. 
 
 He said no word. His hand withdrew itself from the girl's 
 clasp ; he sat staring in horror at the devastation. The whole 
 quarter was closed for traffic; a detachment of firemen and 
 a company of engineers were at work among the still smoulder- 
 ing debris. Now and then the faint report of a buried cartridge 
 sounded dully on the air. Parts of the walls still stood, 
 apparently unscathed, with heaps of stone and timber at 
 their foot: in other places the house fronts were cracked 
 across, as though slit with a knife, revealing broken furniture, 
 and wallpaper, burnt and torn, in the rooms behind. Ends 
 of charred beams projected from the heaps of brick and stone; 
 grotesquely twisted sections of pipe appeared in the ragged 
 gaps of the walls and in the dark openings of windows. The 
 lines of the streets were for the most part blotted out. A 
 lamp-post raised its head above a heap of rubbish like a buoy 
 lifting on the swell of waters. The intermittent gusts from 
 seaward raised now and then a cloud of ashes that wiped away 
 the red and black of fire, giving to Peressip its death-grey 
 pallor once more. The walls of Novaya Ekaterinskaya had 
 fallen half inwards, half out towards the sea; the spray from 
 the waves along the coast was flung up against a mighty dyke 
 of ruin. 
 
 Soot-blackened heaps and mounds of stone were every- 
 where, picked out with fragments of household goods and
 
 THE FINISHED PATTERN 387 
 
 broken utensils. Signs hung dangling gibbet-wise from 
 door-frames, and rags of half-burned curtains fluttered through 
 splintered panes. 
 
 An indefinable stench of burnt and putrefying things rose 
 from the site of desolation. The rotting foodstuffs had 
 attracted millions of flies. Gulls and crows hovered and 
 waddled above and about the ruins; homeless dogs sniffed 
 at the heaps of rubbish. A breath of pestilence was spread 
 abroad from ruined Peressip over the town and harbour. 
 
 Only the church that bore the holy name of St. Sofia lifted 
 its domes of unpolluted blue above the wreck of the foul 
 slums below. 
 
 General Karatayef stared out over the field of battle, where 
 his life's work lay irreparably destroyed. Anna Nikolaievna 
 stroked his hand, essayed to speak to him; he seemed to 
 neither hear nor feel her presence. 
 
 Twice on the way back to Konnaya did words pass his 
 lips. 
 
 " Little Anna, my child," he said, speaking with closed 
 eyes, " that work was builded for your mother's sake, and 
 for her sake it was destroyed." 
 
 A little later he added : 
 
 " Petya Orloff's hands are clean, as his father's were. 
 But mine were soiled and coarse. . . . God's wrath is very 
 terrible. ..." 
 
 " Grandpapa, dear grandpapa, I love you so ! . . ." Anna 
 Nikolaievna found no more to say. 
 
 The old man opened his eyes, that rested with unspeakable 
 tenderness upon the child, the daughter of his murdered son. 
 But he said no word. 
 
 Yussuf helped him to alight, and supported him up the 
 steps into his study. As soon as the two were alone, the 
 General turned to Niki's kavass : 
 
 " Yussuf, my friend," he said, " this house will be empty 
 soon. Mandelberg will know what to do. ... I have 
 arranged for you so that you can spend the rest of your days 
 in comfort; there will be sufficient for that, at least. May 
 God reward you for your faithfulness to me and to my son ! 
 But I ask a promise of you, Yussuf . . . that you do not 
 leave Anna Nikolaievna before she herself desires it. Watch 
 over her, Yussuf: she will have no one else when I am gone."
 
 388 KATYA 
 
 Yussuf seized his master's hand, and would have kissed it, 
 but the old man drew it away. 
 
 A little later Yussuf led the General to his place at table. 
 Scarcely a word was spoken during the meal. Miss Warden 
 cast anxious glances from time to time at Anna Nikolaievna 
 and her grandfather. 
 
 Once more the General sat in his deep chair. Darkness 
 fell, a servant lit the lamps and set the samovar in place. 
 And then, as had been her custom all the years that she had 
 lived with her grandfather, Anna Nikolaievna locked the 
 door, saw that the curtains were close drawn, and took from 
 the cupboards in the writing-table the canvas frame, needles, 
 scissors, thimble, many coloured silks all possible requisites 
 for fine embroidery. She brought her grandfather his 
 spectacles, and placed herself quietly beside him with her own 
 needlework, careful not to break the silence that she knew 
 he had learned to love in his many lonely years. 
 
 This was the old man's happiest hour. When he sat so, 
 the child by his side, and chose his silk of whispering and 
 plaintive hues, he could at times feel that he asked no more. 
 In the last chapter of his story of a little girl's life, good 
 fairies gathered once more about the hearth and tended its 
 kindly glow. The sunlight faded gently into dark ; bright stars 
 were lit to guide the wanderer to the distant gpal. 
 
 General Karatayef's needle played through the tight- 
 stretched stuff. A picture was in making; a world of strife 
 and love grew under his hands. 
 
 But in a little time his hands fell wearily into his lap. 
 He drew the girl towards him, and kissed her hair. 
 
 " God guard you and be kind to you, loved child," he said, 
 placing a hand upon her brow. " Pray for me, Anna, after 
 I am gone. Be strong, dear child, and pure in the war of 
 life, and you shall be happy in love." 
 
 He raised himself with difficulty, holding her arm. 
 
 " Good-night, little Anna." He took his sticks. " I am 
 very tired, and it is time to rest." 
 
 Anna Nikolaievna put away the work, removing carefully 
 its every trace, and listening the while to the sounds that 
 told the old man's way into the locked room, where memories 
 of time past lay balsamed in the dust of years.
 
 DETHRONED 389 
 
 It was yet early to go to bed. She took a book and half 
 began to read, her ears still wakeful for each slightest sound. 
 
 An hour passed. Anna Nikolaievna rose, suddenly uneasy. 
 Half an hour more no, a quarter and she would go and 
 knock. Better, perhaps, at once. She forced herself to 
 watch the hands of the clock, that crept at snail's pace 
 through five minutes more. Then, as it reached the next 
 figure on the face, she stole quietly out, and knocked softly 
 at the door. 
 
 There came no answering voice. In sudden fear she knocked 
 again, but very little louder, and went in. 
 
 General Karatayef sat with his head upon his hands, 
 bowed over the old mahogany cabinet which held the little 
 treasures that had been his dead wife's. 
 
 And it was ended, ended at long last, the weary pilgrimage 
 through mire and thorn. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 DETHRONED 
 
 FOUR days after General Karatayef's death, Katya and her 
 sister arrived in Odessa. The funeral had already taken 
 place. The summer of that year had been a time of plague 
 and pestilence in the semi-Oriental town on the Black Sea, 
 and the health authorities were strict. With almost painful 
 haste, the old man was laid to rest by the side of Anna 
 Dimitrievna and his son. The peace of the grave embraced 
 those three, whom love had bound so closely in their war 
 with life. 
 
 In the presence of Sonya and Count Dologruki, Advocate 
 Mandelberg made Katya and her children acquainted with 
 the provisions of the General's will. None of those present 
 could fail to understand that the document had been dictated 
 by a mind full of hostility towards Katya. She needed all 
 her self-control to refrain from giving vent to her anger, as 
 the man of business explained, with all possible consideration, 
 the exact purport of the dispositions, which thrust her aside, 
 separating her even from her own children. 
 
 Everything was so clearly thought out, so cleverly arranged,
 
 390 KATYA 
 
 that the two executors, Count Dolgoruki and Mandelberg 
 himself, would have had an easy task but for the fact that 
 the disaster in Peressip had upset most of the calculations on 
 which the will was based. The General had bequeathed a 
 large fortune, but over two-thirds of the total amount was 
 derived from the property in Peressip. Under the circum- 
 stances, it would take years to realize the sums involved. 
 Katya's children inherited that part of the suburb which had 
 belonged to their grandfather. It was impossible, however, as 
 things stood, to give even a vague estimate of value of the 
 buildings. Anna Nikolaievna was to have the house in the 
 Konnaya, with all it contained, besides all the remaining 
 property which the testator was free to dispose of, save some 
 two hundred thousand roubles. Count Gavril Dolgoruki 
 was appointed guardian to the children. 
 
 Besides Peressip, however, and the house in the Konnaya, 
 there were about five hundred thousand roubles in other 
 securities. Of these, thirty thousand roubles were to be given 
 to the church of St. Sofia in Peressip, and a sum, not definitely 
 fixed, was to be used for the purchase of an annuity of one 
 thousand five hundred roubles for Yussuf. Moreover, " to 
 Countess Sofia Sergeievna Dolgoruki, nee Princess Rilinski, 
 one hundred thousand roubles, in poor acknowledgment of 
 my debt of gratitude to my dear friend, and my grandson's 
 loving true mother." Immediately after this clause in the 
 will followed another: "To Peotr Konstantinovitch Orloff, 
 twenty-five thousand roubles, from his dead friend's father, 
 and in remembrance of a journey we once made together." 
 
 This last was the cause of much discussion. No one save 
 Sonya could remember what journey was referred to and she 
 said nothing. Katya was at a loss to understand why her 
 father-in-law, who had scarcely known Petya, should remem- 
 ber him in his will, and that with a sum which to one in 
 Orloff 's circumstances amounted almost to a fortune. Strange 
 also, to hear such words so short time after Orloff himself 
 had destroyed the work of General Karatayef's life ! Would 
 Petya ever come into possession of his inheritance ? Could 
 it be of any use to him in his present situation ? 
 
 Advocate Mandelberg called attention to the fact that the 
 twenty-five thousand roubles were already, practically speak- 
 ing, the property of Captain Orloff or his heirs. In case of his
 
 DETHRONED 391 
 
 being condemned to death, the money would probably pass 
 to his sister Olga, otherwise the State would hold the money 
 in trust for him until the expiration of his term of punish- 
 ment. 
 
 "It is horrible to hear you speak like that, Yakof Isako- 
 vitch," said Katya. " One would think you were already 
 certain that Petya would be sentenced to death, or to life- 
 long imprisonment in Siberia, or . . ." 
 
 " But there is no question as to that, Ekaterina Sergeievna," 
 put in Count Dolgoruki. " Advocate Mandelberg is perfectly 
 right. Indeed, in my opinion, there is not even the alternative 
 he mentions. In such a case as this, the court cannot possibly 
 pass any sentence save that of death." 
 
 " We shall see ... we shall see ..." said Katya fiercely. 
 " I will save Petya, if I have to kneel to the Tsar for his life !" 
 
 Katya had indeed no other object in coming to Odessa 
 than to throw all her energies into the fight on his side. It 
 seemed to her years since that night, but fourteen days ago, 
 when Mikailo had returned from Dubni with the news of 
 Petya's departure and his own meeting with Farringham. 
 
 Petya's flight she could understand. She called Heaven to 
 witness that she had found it bitterly hard to refuse him, 
 her dearest friend, the hope he had begged for. But she had 
 no choice; it was true what she had said, that she was bound 
 to another. . . . That same night she had written to Petya, 
 and told him that all was changed, that she needed him, that 
 they would row and steer together now for all their lives. . . . 
 Why had he not answered ? Why had he not come as he 
 had promised ? Why had he not heard her cry for help ? 
 
 She loved Petya for the despair which he had shown in 
 that sudden flight. But his silence she could not understand. 
 She hated the revolution, which interrupted railway, post, 
 and telegraph services. Sonya had tried to dissuade her 
 from continually sending messengers into Dubni. Katya 
 would not hear. She was longing for some word, some sign, 
 from Petya. And she knew how it would sound when at 
 last it came; she could hear the cry of joy with which her 
 lover now would greet the news that she was free. . . . She 
 was furious against the authorities, who could not keep order 
 in the country, so that her message to Petya could find its 
 way to the heart that was waiting in trembling fear.
 
 392 KATYA 
 
 And when at last Count Dolgoruki's letter had arrived, 
 with its news of " the Admiral " and his deed, Katya had 
 thought at first she must go mad. Soon, however, some light 
 began to dawn about the desperate action. Words and sug- 
 gestions, half forgotten, came into her mind, fraught now 
 with meaning she had never dreamed. She was filled with 
 an intoxicating feeling of pride. The world would think 
 that Petya had acted for the sake of a revolutionary idea, 
 or had been the tool of one of the conspiracies which were 
 shaking the whole of the Russian Empire. But she knew 
 that his splendid ship had risen in revolt, its mighty cannon 
 thundered, for her sake ! Others would think that Admiral 
 Orloff's son had been insane; she knew that when he had 
 destroyed those accursed houses by the shores of the Black Sea, 
 it had been because of the love that filled his heart for her. 
 
 Never had woman had so splendid a lover; never had any 
 lit such fire of passion as that which had flamed beside the 
 Black Sea's coast, filling a world with horror. No man could 
 be greater, none more worthy of her love, than he who for her 
 sake had done so terrible a deed. 
 
 She needed also to feel her pride and confidence once more 
 awake and strong. Farringham's flight had been a humilia- 
 tion the bitterest offence in all her experience of men. His 
 letter from England had not yet reached Priluka; she knew 
 nothing of his having listened, nothing of his motives. She 
 guessed, however, that he had left in anger and disappoint- 
 ment over her relation to Petya. But Farringham was now 
 almost eliminated from her consciousness; it was not foi- 
 l's sake that she had sent messengers to Dubni. This 
 Englishman, this foreigner, would never have been capable 
 of action such as Petya's. Farringham's offence against her 
 womanhood left no deep mark; "the Admiral's" deed had 
 given her such redress as should be graven in the history of 
 her land. 
 
 And therefore, also, Petya must be saved. His faithful love 
 had raised the revolution from its meaner, earthly level to a 
 height where noblest human feelings reign. The name of 
 " Orloff " has its origin in the Russian word for " eagle," 
 and an eagle he had proved, her Admiral a royal creature, 
 soaring towards the sun, lord of the upper air, and worthy 
 of Ekaterina Rilinski !
 
 DETHRONED 393 
 
 All else seemed small beside Petya's ill fate and the struggle 
 for his future and her own. What did it matter to Katya 
 that her fortune had been diminished by the very deed which 
 he had done for her sake ! Enough there would be yet 
 for that life of peace which now at last seemed within her 
 reach. The General's will had hurt her cruelly, but his power 
 could not rob her of that which she had inherited from her 
 mother, and all that her own share of Peressip might yield. 
 The children would be richer, far richer, than she herself. 
 But Priluka was still hers, and there, in her old home, there 
 must be room for Petya and herself, even after the place had 
 passed into Sasha's possession. 
 
 With the aid of Count Dolgoruki, Katya speedily obtained 
 an interview with the Governor-General, whom she herself 
 also knew. She did all in her power to win over the Prince ; 
 her womanly art, which had subdued so many, had never risen 
 to such brilliant height as now. She dared to the uttermost 
 of her power, straining her will and charm almost to breaking- 
 point. And Prince Olenin bowed to her. He sought her of 
 his own free-will; his carriage was to be seen early and late 
 before the old house in the Konnaya. He let his wife over- 
 whelm her with invitations, and begged the Count and 
 Countess Dolgoruki to give him opportunities of meeting her 
 in their home. She was admitted to his presence as often 
 as she desired, and the highest civil and military officials of 
 the district waited for hours in his antechamber while Madame 
 Karatayef was with him. 
 
 As soon, however, as she attempted, by careful manoeuvring 
 of the conversation, or by bold digressions, to bring up the 
 subject of Petya, he shrugged his shoulders, and put the 
 matter aside. He tried to make her understand that Petya's 
 fate was in the hands of the tribunal, not of the administrative 
 government; he told her time and again that all her efforts 
 must be without avail. Orloff would be condemned to death, 
 and no power could save him. There was not a court in 
 Russia, not an authority of any kind, that would so much as 
 dare to recommend " the Admiral " to the mercy of the 
 Tsar. By every law, civil or military, his life was forfeit, 
 as a woman of Katya's intelligence could not fail to see without 
 the need of explanation. 
 
 All Katya's efforts were in vain. Prince Olenin would have
 
 394 KATYA 
 
 acceded to her wish had there been question of any other 
 but " the Admiral." For him there was no hope; the eyes of 
 Russia, of Europe, were upon this man, watching what 
 punishment would be meted out to him. 
 
 Katya obtained access to the President of the military 
 tribunal. As soon as he had heard her errand he cut her 
 short. Next time she came he declined to receive her. She 
 attempted to approach the judges singly; they were warned 
 in time, and she did not succeed in seeing any of them. The 
 prosecuting counsel treated her brusquely, almost scornfully; 
 his inquiry as to whether she desired to be called as a witness 
 for the defence, and make a statement concerning Petya's stay 
 at Priluka immediately before the mutiny, terrified her to 
 such a degree that she hastily retired. 
 
 The counsel for the defence received her to begin with as 
 a very welcome ally. Through her influence with Prince 
 Olenin, he succeeded in obtaining several concessions in the 
 prison regime, which made Petya's confinement somewhat 
 more endurable. He also informed Katya that the attitude 
 of hostility which Petya had lately adopted towards himself 
 had changed now to one of something like confidence, the 
 alteration being due to the fact that the advocate now came 
 with messages from Katya at each visit, more kindly and 
 affectionate than Petya ever had dared to hope for. 
 
 Soon, however, both Katya and her lover found it necessary 
 to break off their relations with the zealous advocate. From 
 words that they had let fall, and more especially from their 
 tone and manner, the counsel for the defence had hit upon a 
 clue which he set himself to follow up with eagerness. Was 
 it possible that anything should have happened during 
 Orloff's stay at Priluka immediately preceding the fatal 
 happenings in Odessa, which might be considered as having 
 contributed to the disturbed state of mind in which the 
 accused had evidently been on his return ? The advocate 
 asked questions and threw out hints. He mentioned the 
 possibility of calling not only Katya, but also her sister and 
 the servants at Priluka, as witnesses for the defence. " The 
 man who drove Orloff to Dubni, and the driver who took him 
 on to Koronevo, should be able to give us valuable informa- 
 tion," he said, and returned to the idea several times. Both 
 Katya and Orloff himself, however, insisted that nothing had
 
 DETHRONED 395 
 
 happened at Priluka. He had been called to Princess Rilinski's 
 death-bed; that was all. It could do no good, and might do 
 harm, to pursue that line of investigation. All the witnesses 
 from Priluka would agree that Petya had been perfectly natural 
 all the time, his own self as they all had known him from his 
 earliest years. . . . 
 
 Fearing somewhat the possible effects of her interference, 
 Katya broke off her negotiations with Petya's counsel. But 
 the latter retained his suspicions. He did not dare, however, 
 to risk offending Katya, hoping still to obtain some advantage 
 through her influence with Prince Olenin. 
 
 It was, of course, inevitable that Katya should learn of 
 Petya's relation to Pashka. The whole of the Moscow 
 advocate's defence was based upon this fact, and he was 
 continually referring to details of their intimacy, which he 
 had obtained through Andrei and Arina, or from Varya's 
 and Pashka's own parents. Of all the disappointments which 
 Katya encountered in the course of her conversations with 
 Petya's counsel, none was more bitter to her than his deter- 
 mination to make Pashka the chief point in his defence. She 
 felt no ill-will towards Petya for his liaison with this child 
 of the people. He had told her the truth himself that evening 
 in the boat. But she felt it cruel to be obliged to hide her 
 Admiral's passionate love for herself. Both she and Petya 
 did all in their power, as though by tacit agreement, to deceive 
 his counsel on this point, in order to avoid involving her in 
 this dangerous trial, the echoes of which were heard far up 
 in the highest circles of society. Petya had destroyed all 
 letters which could compromise her. There could be no proof; 
 he and she alone knew of their great secret. But all Russia 
 learned that the woman for whose sake the " Admiral's " guns 
 had thundered was Pashka, a child of the people whom he had 
 loved. The lurid beacon which had flamed far out across the 
 Black Sea had been lit for her sake. The royal eagle, ruler of 
 the upper air, had spread its wings and sharpened claws to 
 avenge the death of Pashka Petroff. She was the woman this 
 most splendid lover had chosen ! 
 
 Each evening when Katya went to rest in the old house in the 
 Konnaya she felt herself weary and bitter. Again there sounded 
 in her ears a sorrowful whisper from that City of Suffering : 
 
 " Too late . . it is too late !"
 
 396 KATYA 
 
 Captain Orloff's sister, Olga Konstantinovna Dunayef, 
 arrived from Turkestan after a journey of some weeks. Both 
 Katya and Sonya received her kindly, and did what they 
 could to help her when she began the same hopeless, weary 
 pilgrimage which Katya herself had made. But she could 
 not even obtain permission to visit her brother in his prison. 
 The psychiatric examination was in progress; the counsel for 
 the defence went back to Moscow to await the result. He 
 advised Olga Konstantinovna to proceed to St. Petersburg 
 and endeavour to obtain audience of the Tsar himself ; in his 
 opinion no one else should move in the matter at all, as this 
 could only excite suspicion and ill-will. Katya, however, used 
 her influence unobtrusively, furnishing Petya's sister with 
 funds, as well as letters of introduction to Madame Miliukin, 
 the Dowager Countess Dolgoruki, and other influential ladies 
 in the capital who would be able to assist her in her difficult 
 task. 
 
 It was not without good reason that Petya's counsel had 
 sought to dissuade Katya from further interference. Too 
 much had transpired already; through the offices of the 
 Governor- General, the families of the judges, the prison 
 authorities, and the counsel on either side, it had leaked out 
 that Ekaterina Sergeievna Karatayef, nee Princess Rilinski, 
 was taking an active part in the defence of the Admiral of 
 mutineers. All found it but natural that Orloff 's sister should 
 do all in her power to save her brother. But Madame Kara- 
 tayef ! What could this man's fate be to her ? Was she 
 perhaps herself one of the revolutionary party's aristocratic 
 supporters? Had she been allied with that "Admiral "of 
 dread ? 
 
 Those of the Odessa papers which belonged to the Union 
 of True Russians and similar societies began to make com- 
 ment. It commenced with inquiries from readers, who asked 
 if it were true that a certain Madame E. S. K., nee R., was 
 using her influence on behalf of a man who had led revolt 
 against his country and the Tsar; a man whose name was a 
 disgrace to the Russian navy ? Little by little the journals 
 became bolder. An article appeared in one of the principal 
 dailies, with Katya's name in full, couched in the most un- 
 compromising terms. The writer referred, in language almost 
 lyrical, to the reception given by Odessa to the widow of
 
 DETHRONED 397 
 
 Consul Karatayef two years before. " Those cheers of 
 welcome ring yet in our ears ; cheers for a woman whose noble 
 husband fell by a dastard hand, and who had herself deserved 
 the admiration of all Slavs. ' Slava, Knyaginya, slava !' (Hail, 
 Princess, hail !) was heard from high and low in this our city 
 where the Empire of the Tsar meets the wide East. It may 
 be Consul Karatayef's widow has forgotten since where lies 
 her husband's grave. But all men know that when she makes 
 entry into Odessa her purpose is to wrest from the hands of 
 justice a miscreant who has brought lasting shame upon the 
 Russian flag; whose bloody hand has sent hundreds of inno- 
 cents to a death of horror. Has she forgotten what she owes 
 to the honoured names her husband and her father bore ? 
 thousands of Russian men and women ask; and if she would 
 but listen to that people's voice which sounded once so pleasant 
 in her ears, she would hear how it trembles now with bitter 
 indignation: Shame, Princess, shame !" 
 
 Both Prince Olenin and Count Dolgoruki were furious when 
 they saw the article, and the editors received a sharp repri- 
 mand. But it had little effect. Reaction against the bloody 
 happenings of the revolution was beginning to raise its head. 
 The True Russians were as merciless to high and low as their 
 adversaries had been, albeit their weapons were of other sort. 
 Katya's name was suppressed, but references clear beyond 
 mistake were rife as to her ill-placed zeal in " the Admiral's " 
 defence. 
 
 Katya soon found it impossible to remain in Odessa. Anna 
 Nikolaievna, Miss Warden, and Yussuf went to the Dolgorukis, 
 and the house in the Konnaya was shut up. Katya availed 
 herself of the temporary cessation of the railway strike, and 
 returned to Priluka, whither the rest of the family were 
 shortly to assemble, and where Mandelberg was to arrange 
 the formalities rendered necessary by the death of the 
 Princess. 
 
 Nothing had been done for the eagle in his prison. 
 
 When the little train from Koronevo steamed into the 
 station at Dubni about midday, Katya looked about her in 
 search of Dimitri and Mikailo, who should have been there to 
 fetch her. There was no carriage, however, from Priluka, 
 nor any message. The station-master invited Katya to wait
 
 398 KATYA 
 
 in his house ; it could not be long before the carriage arrived. 
 Some little accident might have delayed it on the way, or 
 possibly the letter had not arrived in time. Everything was 
 so uncertain just now. . . . 
 
 An hour passed, and the half of another, and still neither 
 Mikailo nor Dimitri had appeared. At last Katya could wait 
 no longer. In spite of the warnings of the station-master and 
 a sergeant of gendarmes, she started off on foot. At the 
 relay station she asked if she could hire a carriage; the Jew 
 who kept it, however, refused to take her unless she would 
 take the responsibility for both vehicle and horses; the 
 peasants, he said, would steal the property of a Jew as soon 
 as look at it. 
 
 So Katya went on foot. Along the broad road, with its 
 white sand and its patches and stretches of grass, she made 
 her way back to her home. Her heart beat anxiously; old 
 memories circled fearfully about her mind, as birds that have 
 heard the lash of shot through the air between them. Home- 
 comings of an earlier day: from school at Kief, from Paris 
 after her year with the Miliukins the gipsy and her prophecies 
 the drive with her father to Patkanovo the memorable 
 hour with Niki and General Karatayef . . . and but a fort- 
 night since two men had fled Priluka by that road . . . Priluka 
 was deserted now by page and troubadour; no one to sing 
 beneath her window her youth was gone, irrevocably gone 
 and only helpless loneliness remained. . . . 
 
 The fierce sun beat upon the road ; Katya had never thought 
 ten verst could make her feel so weary. She paused every 
 few minutes to rest, and stopped between the rests to look 
 ahead and see if Mikailo were not coming, or to look back 
 and see if no other vehicle were in sight. But the broad road 
 lay deserted in the sunlight ; from huts and cottages beside the 
 way peasant-folk stared in astonishment to see Priluka's 
 mistress trudging afoot through a country in revolt. 
 
 When at last she reached the boundary of the park she 
 broke through the hedge, and hastened along the well-known 
 paths in the kindly shade. Soon she could see the white walls 
 of the palace on the slope that led to the lake ; she drew a deep 
 breath of relief ; no harm had come to the home of the Rilinskis. 
 
 As she came nearer, however, she was aware of shouts and 
 cries, confused noises of distress, increasingly distinct as she
 
 DETHRONED 399 
 
 approached. She hurried down to the lake, where she could 
 see unhindered. 
 
 . . . The flames looked all unreal in the sunlight, as did the 
 thick grey clouds of smoke among the foliage of the trees. 
 Yet fire it was; the barns and stables were alight. Mikailo's 
 little straw-thatched house was flaring like a torch. 
 
 Katya ran at the top of her speed forward towards the 
 smoking beacon that flung its hot breath in her face. The 
 wind brought now a scent of new -mown hay, now sickly smells 
 of scorching flesh. The leaves shrivelled on the trees, birds 
 flew shrieking about their nests. Great sheets of roof and 
 wall came crashing down from either wing. 
 
 When she reached the drive she could see the men toiling 
 with pump and hose. A few were striving to break down 
 with axes the wall of the stable, foremost among them Mikailo, 
 swinging a pickaxe with gigantic strokes, and sobbing and cry- 
 ing at his work. He cried to the horses in their flaming prison, 
 begging them to be patient yet a little while, promising help 
 and comfort, bidding them have courage, calling them by 
 endearing names. 
 
 Katya stood motionless, watching the work. Only one or 
 two of those engaged in fetching water had noticed her. 
 She could do nothing ; she knew it, and she did not move. She 
 seemed a stranger to herself; her will and thought were 
 tranced, incapable. 
 
 The wall of the stable fell, giving a way. 
 
 The furious beasts rushed out from the torturing heat, 
 through maddening sparks, towards the sunlight, and fought 
 in the crowded breach, rearing, kicking, biting each other, the 
 weaker beasts thrust ruthlessly aside or trodden down. The 
 air shook with unnatural cries. 
 
 Foremost in the flock that galloped down the slope towards 
 the lake was Mazeppa, blood-flecked, with flaming mane and 
 eyes fierce with horror of death. A fence lay right in its way ; 
 the great beast gathered itself for the leap, and sprang. 
 
 A moment later and Mazeppa hung in a formless, huddled 
 mass, staked on the palings of the fence. Without a sound the 
 splendid creature died ; its head fell over, and from its mouth 
 dripped slowly a thick tangle of saliva and blood.
 
 400 KATYA 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 THE court had sentenced Captain Orloff to be hanged. He was 
 to be degraded from his rank, and to pay an enormous fine. 
 Olga Konstantinovna had, however, succeeded in obtaining 
 from the Tsar an alteration in the form of execution. Captain 
 Orloff would be shot, the sentence to be carried out in the 
 fortress of Otshakof, which lies on a little island in the Black 
 Sea, some four hours' journey from Odessa, and where he had 
 been imprisoned during the time which had elapsed between 
 the judgment of the court and the decision of the Tsar. 
 
 It was late in November. Katya had been living in the 
 Konnaya since autumn. Through the influence of Prince 
 Olenin she had obtained permission to send Petya some small 
 gifts, and two or three letters. The prisoner himself was not 
 allowed to write. Katya had tried to get leave to visit him, 
 together with his sister; her efforts here, however, were un- 
 availing, and only Olga Konstantinovna was admitted. This 
 was perhaps due to the interference of Count Dolgoruki. 
 Katya's activity on behalf of the Admiral of mutineers had 
 grown more evident and unrestrained as the time for sentence 
 approached, and the attacks made upon her by the press were 
 resumed. The effect of this had already made itself apparent 
 on the capital; when the pension was at last conceded, the 
 amount which Katya personally was to receive had been 
 reduced by a thousand roubles. The Count feared that 
 further trouble might ensue if Katya's name were made more 
 prominent in connection with the popular expressions of 
 sympathy which were continually arising both in Odessa and 
 Sevastopol. 
 
 As soon as the decision of the Tsar was made public, Katya 
 determined to go abroad. Miss Warden and Yussuf were to 
 remain with the children. 
 
 Katya felt it impossible to remain in Odessa, at Priluka, 
 or anywhere in Russia during that fearful time. Her mind 
 was so disturbed as to make her scarcely responsible for her 
 actions. She felt her own helplessness acutely. Events
 
 JUDGMENT 401 
 
 moved on in all their crushing force; she could not hinder, 
 alter, even delay their progress. Every hand seemed raised 
 against her. She left Russia, rilled with the need of feeling 
 herself alone, away from all who knew even her name. 
 
 One winter morning, soon after the far, pale sun had risen 
 above the waters of the Black Sea, the Commandant at 
 Otshakof informed Peotr Konstantinovitch Orloff that his 
 last hour was come. 
 
 The chaplain came to prepare the prisoner for death; the 
 Admiral of mutineers was gentle as a child. He kneeled in 
 prayer with quiet feeling, and tears dewed his eyes as he 
 prayed forgiveness for his sins. Peace was upon his face, 
 and in his every movement; he walked as one trusting the 
 mercy of God. And the rest, the blessed rest of death was 
 near. 
 
 The priest asked if he had any wish; he answered that he 
 would like to write a short letter, and permission was given. 
 When it was written he gave it to the priest, who promised 
 it should be delivered. 
 
 A little later Admiral Orloff's son was led out into a court- 
 yard surrounded by high walls. His badges and marks of 
 rank had been removed. 
 
 A sergeant approached to bind his eyes; Petya declined. 
 Then, walking to the place assigned to him, he faced the firing- 
 party, looked once about him, and closed his eyes. 
 
 There was a sharp command, the crash and echo of a volley, 
 and a body fell to earth. 
 
 Petya Orloff had found peace at last. 
 
 His last words followed the woman to whom they were 
 written from place to place. Katya was drifting restlessly 
 about, stopping now here, now there, and wandering farther. 
 At last she found a little, poor hotel in Paris, and stayed there 
 for the loneliness. And here at last letters arrived. 
 
 " KATYA, DEAR LOVE, 
 
 " My life ends now, a wasted thing. I think of you 
 that evening in the boat, when you told me to row, row hard, 
 and let you steer. Ask all of those who cared for me to forgive 
 me. I have loved you truly until death. 
 
 " PETYA." 
 26
 
 402 KATYA 
 
 All through that day Katya wandered aimlessly about Paris, 
 unknown and knowing none in the crowded streets. Late 
 the same night she was found lying unconscious, and plundered 
 of all she had, far out in the quarter where the Rue de Neuilly 
 meets the river. She was carried to a hospital, and it was 
 three days before she was able to say who she was and where 
 she lived. 
 
 One day in early spring, some weeks before Prince Alexander 
 Alexandrovitch Rilinski was to take possession of his ancestral 
 estate, upon completion of his eighteenth year, Vladimir 
 Shipagin came to Priluka, and was installed in his old room. 
 
 Tatiana Feodorovna, Dimitri, and Mikailo received him 
 warmly, and pressed his hands in welcome. For Vladimir 
 Shipagin was now the last of those who, with the faithful 
 servants, still remembered the days of greatness past at the 
 white palace in Ukraine. 
 
 Katya had returned from Paris a year before, and taken up 
 her quarters at Priluka. During this last year of her reign 
 there she had gathered all her nearest friends about her. And 
 Shipagin had suggested then in his casual way that she and 
 he should try their fortune together. He was weary of his 
 freedom, of solitude, and he wished a wife of such nobility as 
 could shed lustre over Patkanovo. After the destruction 
 caused by the peasant rising he had spent large sums on the 
 restoration of the place, and he wanted now to have an 
 establishment suited to his position as one of the principal 
 landowners in Ukraine. Katya had all the qualities necessary 
 to place himself and his household at the proper level. More- 
 over, he and she were almost of an age. Both had had wide 
 experience of life, the period of great feelings was over now, 
 and it was time to seek the quiet security of a home. 
 
 At first, when Vladimir Shipagin had made his frank pro- 
 posal, Katya had angrily refused. But he could wait. There 
 was one form of campaign, moreover, in which he excelled; 
 he would assemble the young people, Katya's own children, 
 young Prince Rilinski, Boris and Anastasia Dolgoruki, and 
 tell them of Katya's triumphs. His drawling voice seemed 
 never to tire of recounting to the younger generation all that 
 had happened in the great days past, when Katya had been 
 mistress of Priluka in fact. Also he used his wealth lavishly,
 
 JUDGMENT 403 
 
 careless of what sums he spent. The old servants at Priluka, 
 who were accustomed to receive considerable gifts from the 
 many guests, were overwhelmed by his extravagance. Katya's 
 French maid, Jeannette, increased her savings by hundreds 
 of roubles. From London came all sorts of sporting requisites 
 for Sergei Karatayef, and jewels arrived from Paris for Anna 
 Nikolaievna. Katya herself he strove to delight with costly 
 things of antique silver and enamel, such as are bought in 
 Moscow. And when the daily post-cart returned from Dubni 
 there were parcels of dainty sweetmeats from Kief, which 
 brightened the table at lunch and dinner. In the autumn, 
 an English thoroughbred mare appeared in the new stables, 
 a gift from Vladimir Shipagin to replace Mazeppa. 
 
 And gradually all this told. Katya had grown fearful of the 
 future. As long as she still could call Priluka her own, she 
 scarcely noticed her decrease of fortune. But as soon as the 
 place was taken from her she would find herself but poorly 
 situated in comparison with what she had been accustomed 
 to. She would be forced to alter her way of life, or else to 
 live upon her children's money an idea which the tone and 
 disposition of General Karatayef 's will rendered insufferable. 
 Vladimir Shipagin meant freedom from all such cares. 
 
 Nor was this all. . . . Now and then it would happen that 
 old Tatiana Feodorovna took her mistress confidentially 
 aside, and whispered: " Katya, my child, you ought to take 
 and marry him, Vladimir Alexandrovitch. A fine man only 
 see the way he keeps his serviette ! Clean and neat always, 
 like everything about him. And you should hear the way 
 he talks of you ; he can remember everything you've said since 
 you were fifteen. It's no more than yesterday he came in to 
 pay a visit to Petrushka, and he told me all the story of how 
 you took and blacked the poor bird with your dear dead 
 father's hair dye. Yes, you should take him, Katya 
 before he runs away, like the Englishman with the horrible 
 name." 
 
 Mikailo had never dreamed of such equine perfection as 
 was made manifest in the English thoroughbred. " Like a 
 thing of porcelain or glass, Ekaterina Sergeievna : a man dares 
 scarcely touch her. But she understands Russian, though she 
 comes from London, or wherever it is. / do not know who 
 can have taught her. If only she doesn't forget it again
 
 404 KATYA 
 
 before you take her to Patkanovo, for there's nobody there 
 to speak English to her." 
 
 All Priluka was in league, it seemed, with Vladimir Shipagin 
 in his plan. He was an old acquaintance. And, then, 
 Patkanovo was not so far away but that communication 
 might be kept up between Priluka and its true mistress. 
 There would be a new master soon, a young Barin, who without 
 doubt would bring a host of new folk with him, and gradually 
 the old ones would be set aside. ... It would be well to have 
 Ekaterina Sergeievna near at hand that she might watch 
 over those who with herself were left to guard the memory of 
 old tradition. 
 
 Katya had lain ill in Paris for over a month. But no one 
 knew of it; she never spoke about that time, the bitterest, 
 it seemed to her, in all her life worse even than the dreadful 
 days following Niki's death. Stradovo had at least been 
 something great ; the City of Suffering had brought her sorrow, 
 yet in glorious guise. But Petya's death had been a shame 
 and misery. Her own name had been dragged through mire, 
 while Pashka's sounded as a saint's on the lips of an adoring 
 people. No one could ever persuade Katya that she had 
 been in any way responsible for Niki's death. But very 
 clearly she could hear the voice that told her how her fault 
 had borne the desperate fruit of action which had led the 
 son of Admiral Orloff to disgrace and death. Petya's counsel 
 had said as much in a letter to herself. Olga Konstantinovna 
 understood. And Sonya knew. Anna said nothing, made no 
 sign yet who could know what her ever observant, still 
 suspicious mind had guessed ? On her sick-bed in Paris, and 
 daily ever since, these thoughts had been Katya's torment. 
 Petya's shadow haunted her everywhere. And there was 
 Farringham; now that she knew the reason of his flight, her 
 conscience suffered under knowledge of the power which she 
 had been in this man's life and fate. Katya feared solitude 
 as children fear the dark. For a time she tried to win back 
 Sergei's confidence and Anna's; it was too late, her children 
 had grown from her. 
 
 Vladimir Shipagin offered her the help she needed. She 
 told herself all there was to say against him : his shallowness, his 
 selfishness, his parvenu manner, and his connection with that 
 gloomy place where once her father in despair and dread had
 
 JUDGMENT 405 
 
 cried for aid in vain. All through her life men had been lavish 
 with their love ; Shipagin had no power or knowledge of love. 
 Niki, George Farringham, Petya all men of splendid temper 
 beyond others. And then Shipagin. . . . 
 
 But he came to her in her need. It might be that her mother 
 had been right when she had said he, too, was a faithful friend. 
 He was one of their own circle, who had known her in her 
 greatness. And he could lift away her cares, show her a way 
 out of the dreary desert of her loneliness. Sonya had also 
 married without love, and yet her life had brought quiet 
 happiness and peace. 
 
 When Vladimir Shipagin made his suggestion it could 
 scarcely be called a proposal for the second time Katya 
 agreed. And now he had come to lead her to the altar in the 
 little church at Dubni. No others were present save Shipagin's 
 old mother, Katya's two children, and the Count and Countess 
 Dolgoruki. 
 
 Katya sat in the carriage with Vladimir Shipagin at her 
 side. The pair were on their way to Patkanovo to take 
 possession of their future home. 
 
 Mikailo was decked in his finest in honour of the occasion. 
 It was perhaps the last time he would drive for her who had 
 been his fearless comrade and the darling mistress of Priluka. 
 He did his best to impress her now, in his sleeveless kaftan of 
 black velvet, held at the waist by a silver belt ; red blouse ; 
 and high cloth cap, with a crown of peacock's feathers waving 
 above his great grey mane of hair. He used no whip; it hung 
 by a thong from his wrist, and was merely ornamental. But 
 he talked to his horses ; gave them explanations in a language 
 of whistles, shrieks, cries, and little songs. It had its deeper 
 meaning, no doubt ; the horses understood, and dashed ahead 
 through mud and sand, over grass and stone. 
 
 " On, on, little doves I" 
 
 Shipagin's eyes rested on Katya as she bent her head above 
 the flowers Priluka had given her at parting. Truly she was 
 desirable that day. No one could doubt her dignity of birth, 
 or fail to see that she was used to conquer and command. 
 
 " Katya, remember how you got old Alexei to fish up 
 Tanya's kvas from the well ?" 
 
 " Yes dear. But it is horribly long ago."
 
 406 KATYA 
 
 " I shall never forget how you told your father afterwards : 
 ' It was ever so easy, papa you see, Alek's being only a 
 man. . . .' " 
 
 " Oh, don't, Vladimir, don't !" 
 
 Katya buried her face in the cool of the flowers. She could 
 not bear to think of those early victories . . . not now . . . 
 never any more. She had said farewell to all that she held 
 dear. Life was hard and cruel. And Priluka was growing 
 farther and farther away. . . . 
 
 " Slower, Mikailo, drive slower !" 
 
 Mikailo turned in astonishment; Katya repeated her order. 
 The old man shook his head, and spoke in sadly confidential 
 tone to his beasts : 
 
 " Go gently, little lambs, we are leaving Priluka !" 
 
 Shipagin was pleased with himself and the world. The 
 days when the young men had jeered at him in the " Club " 
 were gone, and would never return. This was Ekaterina 
 Rilinski, the Cossack from Ukraine, that wondrous woman 
 who forced men to their knees, taking their homage carelessly, 
 as flowers by the way, and it was he who led her home at last. 
 
 " Katya, remember how the old gipsy told our fortunes ? 
 Awful lot of nonsense she said, and impertinent into the bargain. 
 Some of it came true, though, after all. She said I'd marry 
 late, I remember but not happily the old witch; she should 
 only know how happy I am with ma petite Rilinski f" 
 
 " Vladimir, I will not hear that name ! You weary me. 
 Can't you be quiet when I ask you !" 
 
 She picked the petals from the flowers and strewed them 
 over the road. Had Niki been right after all was she barren, 
 in truth ? Since that night in Stradovo all things had turned 
 to failure and misery. Niki torn from her ere she had won 
 forgiveness; Farringham fled from her home in bitterness 
 and anger ; Petya dead for her fault . . . even her children had 
 forgotten her. Soon a new generation, knowing nothing of 
 Katya Rilinski, would move about Priluka . . . and always 
 that ceaseless voice to haunt her now, that whisper from the 
 City of Suffering ..." Too late ... it is too late. . . ." 
 
 How long a thing was life ! Better for her and all of them 
 if she had died in the hospital in Paris. No one had known 
 her; she had been laid unconscious in a room with other 
 poor creatures found in the streets. At the Russian Embassy,
 
 JUDGMENT 407 
 
 Grand Dukes and foreign magnates moved about the gold 
 voliere where Katya once had found her envied place. Her 
 wings were broken now, as some poor bird of passage beneath 
 St. Vladimir's lighted cross by Dniepr's banks, checked in its 
 flight across the broad fields of Ukraine. 
 
 Had she the power to build up life once more upon such 
 ruins ? Katya had spied despairingly to every side. But her 
 only choice lay between solitude and Patkanovo. Patkanovo, 
 a place so hateful as to seem a blot upon her fair Ukraine. 
 And yet it was here that she had won the knowledge and 
 forged the weapons with which she had saved her dear ones 
 from shame and disaster. But now no human creature upon 
 earth had need of Katya Rilinski's love. 
 
 " Go gently, little doves we are leaving Priluka !" 
 
 The landscape passed before her misty eyes; broad plains 
 of Ukraine, where the thatched roofs of peasants' huts rose 
 up like mushrooms among moss, young wheat in glistening 
 waves of green, groups of slight birch in fine new leaf, with 
 golden ribbons of sunlight on their branches, little decrepit 
 windmills in a row, an old oak leaning out across the road, 
 its crown ablush with spring, and here and there a reed-framed 
 pond, or a little stream that murmured on its way to join the 
 sobbing flood that Dniepr poured into the sea. No breath 
 of wind, no sign or sound of any living thing across the wide- 
 stretched plain : a rich and fertile land, yet silent as a desert. 
 The sky so clear and far, the shadow full of life and soft, half- 
 melancholy colour: a land of dreams between the mighty 
 rivers, the land of war and love Ukraine, Ukraine ! 
 
 Towards evening, as the twilight fell, Mikailo drew up 
 before the steps of Patkanovo. 
 
 THE END 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
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