Anyhow I am going away,--again alone,--alone forever. Damn life!

I cannot look backwards--I feel sorry for my past; the present--is sufficiently bad not to speak of it; the future--is just as dark--as this night. Not a star, not a single star.

The old man was taken to the People's Hospital this afternoon. He thanked me.

54

... starting rumors of the killing of the whole Family, and always emphasizing that this tragedy--was the supreme penalty brought to the altar by the Emperor.

Nachman, and others, who--it seems to me, know what they are talking about, foresee many chances; the best of them, is of course the fact, that some ...

(_few lines scratched out_)

... are in this enterprise, and therefore it might be crowned with success. I really do not know what to think. Only one point is clear: I cannot believe that our sufferings, the sufferings of the _whole country_, are unknown beyond our frontiers. They must be known; the tears shed cannot during so long a time fall on stones,--even stones get wet. If they are not known,--these sufferings,--if our hands stretched for help are not seen, if we are condemned just for the only fact that we are Russians,--and if ...

(_a page missing_)

55

... knocked at the door. I hardly had time to say "enter," when something enveloped in a thick brown overcoat rolled in, jumped at me and in a second covered all of my face with hot kisses. I answered them very attentively.

Then I noticed that the amiable creature was Lucie.

"No, you don't hate me! No, you don't hate me! I know it! I knew it!..."

"Lucie," I said, "before we proceed, please let me put some of these papers in my pockets."

"Alex! Don't remind me of that! How _did_ you dare to write such stories about me? You can't blame me, can you?"

"Perhaps I don't--for some pages you destroyed. How about the chart, and about the?..."

She covered my mouth with her hands. "If we recollect everything it will be endless. And besides I don't think I took anything from you.

Let's forget! I'll forgive you, if you promise me not to write nasty stories about your Lucie."

I promised, and consented, of course. How can I do otherwise? No use!

I put her near me, poured her some tea and offered her the cookies.

For a time we looked at each other. She certainly looked like a peasant girl!

"How do you like this costume?" she said. "Next bal masque I certainly will wear this kind, you may be sure. Of course all of this, and that must be chiffon, and silk, and...." A woman cannot get on without these chats. On the other hand--woman speaks to the man about it with a concealed contempt: what does _a man_ understand? She does not get angry when she sees that the man does not listen; he only _looks_.

"Now,"--she said, gazing around with a dear grimace,--"again in your element, in dirt? What shall I do with you, Alex? I can't stand it!"

"Dirt is my protection, dear. Why did you leave? Don't run away any more."

"We will see about it. But first--what are you doing here? Are you following me? Don't you think I saw you here? Why do you risk your life? How did you think of leaving Tumen? How is your cook?"

"Do _your_ questions give _me_ the same right of investigation? I'll answer you, anyhow. I've decided to lay down my cards, Lucie. I came here on business. I broke all ties. Nobody wants me. I am investigating at my own expense, at my own risk, out of curiosity only. But I am free. Don't you need me? Don't you need a friend? Can't we live without deceiving each other, without robbing,--eh? I came here, Lucie,--and behind all of my intentions was one thing only: I hoped to find you, and tell you how much I love you. I knew you had to be near the center, and the center is, at least now--here. Don't lie to me, bad girl, I know what I am talking about. Now--when I think we again will part--I have chills; especially when I think of your manner of going away: pinning a "good-by" to the cushion. Please, let us be together!"

"You should not tempt me, Alex. I feel just as you do, only--I don't think I can even dream of our being together--right now, I mean. What will be after--we'll see."

"Cannot you arrange something for me so that I could be with you in your business? Did not you ask me before to do so? Now--I come to you."

"It's true, I did. Things have changed. Can you believe me when I swear I am telling the truth? Yes? You'll try? Well, I wanted you in Petrograd--you fascinated me; that was all,--and if then, after being with us, you had come to know too much and something had happened to you, I would, of course, have been sorry,--but,--how shall I say it?

Not too much. In Tumen,--you know I came to Syvorotka with certain purposes: you described them well in your diary, so well that I had to put my censorship on them,--I did not suspect Syvorotka was--you...."

I made an impatient movement. "Again your fairy tale?"

"Alex!" she exclaimed, "I conjure you to believe me! Can't you see?

Get me to tell you the truth when I am so happy as now! I could not lie to you! So that's how I came to Tumen. You were there, and you know what happened. Now--don't laugh at me,--I understand that you risked too much,--and I ran away, because I saw--I loved you. I'd die if I knew something had happened to you on account of me. I told them that you had gone to Kazan, or Nijni, that you had turned into a real bolshevik. They think you are out. For them--you are lost. And they must not see you here."

"Who are 'they'? And how about _you_ knowing too much?" I inquired.

"Your mysteries don't sound grave anyhow."

"Alex,--I'll be angry! Again you ask silly things."

So I kissed her and asked how Stanley was and the Russian and the Letts, and the pony.

"Poor little thing! It died. We tried to reach Tobolsk with it."

"Your Stanley poisoned it with his chimney," I said.

"Don't hold anything against him, Alex. He is a good fellow. And don't be jealous, you bad, dirty, lovable crank. He still thinks you are a Canadian."

"He never thinks. He fancies."

She laughed. "Yes, you _are_ jealous. It is silly of you, but agreeable. I did not know you could be."

"Now, let's be serious. You can't stay here. I must insist on your going away,--dear, for your own sake,--for our sake! I promise it won't be for a long time,--perhaps it will only seem so, if you love me! Don't say no. Can't you picture how happy we can be afterwards?

How somewhere away from here we could marry, and.... You must go away.

Why not go to England, or Japan, or Sweden? Just a trip?"

"How funny you talk!" I said. "Listen to my reasons. One: I must stay near you. Two: I must see the end of this tragedy. Three: I must close _my_ bit of an account with some people. Four: All I have is not enough to pay for this room,--so no trips for me. Five: ..."

"Stop! Stop!" she exclaimed, and crawling into my lap, continued:

"My poor boy! That--is killing! I know why you are so poor! You spent every penny on others! You had some earnings! And to think of all you were bringing to me in Tumen ... then you did not care even, but just to be hospitable to an intruder.... And other things.... How can I repay you!..."

"There are no reasons for crying on this account. Forget it please.

Don't put me in the light of a benefactor,--I hate it."