what he may have desired about me!” she retorted with a show of anger,
her face aflame. “You have no debt to a Kirsakoff, living or dead, in
any way! Do I owe you anything? Perhaps I do, but I can pay you! What
price, I ask? What price, Peter Petrovitch Gorekin?”
He stood dumfounded and gazed at her. She turned abruptly, and opened
the top of a trunk which he had not seen before.
“What price?” she demanded.
“Price! Price!” he gasped. “Why, you owe me nothing! Please do not
insult me—I wished to see you again—I wished to say good-by—please,
mistress——” the word escaped him,—the word of deference to the upper
class, the word of recognition that she was impossibly above him in the
Russian social caste.
She let the top of the trunk fall, and putting her hands to her face,
burst into tears. Just then Wassili stuck his head through the green
curtains and looked in, startled and angry. Peter was about to reassure
the _moujik_ that no harm threatened his mistress, but before Peter
could speak, Wassili burst through the curtains and he held in his hand
a great knife. The Slavic battle rage took possession of Peter at sight
of the knife, and all the restraints imposed upon him by civilized life
left him in one mad instant. He knew but one thing—he loved Katerin, and
Wassili was going to stand in the way. The blade in the _moujik’s_ hand
swept away all the fine perplexities which had harassed Peter—these
points of honor which he saw as a barrier between him and Katerin. He
snapped out his pistol and pointed it at Wassili.
“Get back through that curtain!” he commanded, and stepped forward
toward Wassili. The _moujik_ pressed back, but did not leave the room.
“What’s this?” cried Katerin, turning upon Peter angrily.
He made no reply, but shifting his pistol into his left hand, he kept
Wassili covered with the weapon. Then he paused for an instant. Before
Katerin or Wassili understood his intent, Peter seized her with his
right arm and lifted her against his shoulder. With his left elbow under
his head, he kept the muzzle of the pistol toward Wassili, and backed
out of the room through the open door into his own room.
Peter put Katerin upon her feet, just as Wassili moved after him—and
Peter beckoned the _moujik_ on.
“And what may this be about?” demanded Katerin, staring at Peter as
though she suspected that he was bereft of his senses.
“A marriage by abduction—the old folk custom of our people,” declared
Peter grimly. “Wassili! You bear witness! I have taken Katerin
Stephanovna Kirsakoff from her house to mine—and there must be a
witness. She is now my wife—and she must do as I say. So put away the
knife—you cannot take from me the woman I have stolen!”
Katerin burst out in laughter.
“You Peter Petrovitch!” she exclaimed. “I thought you were an
American—and yet you are Russian—stealing a wife by the old custom! Do
you think I am to take this seriously?”
“You will find it is serious—till you are safe in Vladivostok,” retorted
Peter. “Then—well, once you are safe, you may do as you wish. But I am
master till then.”
She laughed again.
“So you are American after all—in Vladivostok I may do as I wish! How
can you call yourself Russian? Go away, Wassili—it is but a joke!”
Wassili, not quite sure it was such a joke, put away his knife, and went
back to the far room. Katerin shut the door, and then turned to Peter,
who stood looking at her, resenting a trifle her taking it as a joke at
all.
“We shall go aboard the car at once,” he said. “Get ready your baggage,
please.”
“Ah, he is Russian again!” laughed Katerin.
“What does it matter if I am Russian or not?” said Peter. “When I try to
consider your feelings, you insult——”
“No, no, Peter,” she begged, and went to him and put her hands gently on
his sleeves, looking up into his face. “You did not understand—you know
nothing of a woman’s heart—I told you once that I loved you——”
“Yes!” cried Peter. “You told me that, and then you insist upon staying
here when I want to protect you—when you know there is a chance to go——”
“Growl—growl like a Russian bear, Peter! But did you not come to say
good-by?”
“To take you with me if I could.” He seized her hands. “O, Katerin,
think this over and see what I want you to see—when you get to
Vladivostok——”
“And what when I get to Vladivostok? What am I to do when I get to
Vladivostok?”
“Well, you will know what you want to do, then?”
“Do about what?”
“I want you to marry me—to go to America—to——”
She stamped her foot.
“You are a hopeless American!” she cried. “I like you better as a
Russian, Peter Petrovitch!” She dropped her head, and as he gave a cry
of joy, she looked up, her face radiant with joy and flushed with color.
“Katerin! You will marry me?”
“How can I help myself—I have been stolen by the old law, and now——”
“Yes, what?”
“I know that you want me—not for a promise—but for myself—Peter——”
“O God!” he cried, “I know now I am forgiven!” and he crushed her to
him.
Presently there came a knocking at the door of Katerin’s room, and the
old serving woman came when Katerin called to her to enter.
“Tell Wassili to pack my baggage,” said Katerin. “We are all going to
Vladivostok—at once.”
“But let Wassili first go for a priest,” said Peter. “And do not cry, my
love—we shall both say farewell forever to the Valley of Despair, and
our journey’s end shall be America—our America.”
“America!” she whispered, looking through the window as if her eyes saw
behind the fog-banks a strange land. “What a wonderful country America
must be!”
“You cannot know till you have seen,” said Peter.
“I know now,” she replied, smiling through her tears, “I know now, Peter
Petrovitch.”
“How can you know, my love?”
“Because—I know a Russian who became an American—the son of a
bootmaker—a bootmaker who was an unfortunate—a poor boy——”
“Hush, hush!” he said, and put his arms about her again, seeing where
her thoughts were straying—to the fresh brown mound on the bleak
hillside by the ruin of the old prison. “They are together, your father
and mine. Because of that, we shall not forget our Holy Russia. Would
not they both be happy—are they not both happy, knowing what they must
know now, and seeing what the dead must see? We living think we would do
one thing, but is it not that the dead guide us, knowing better than we
what is before us and what we shall do before we have finished? Truly,
as the wise say, from evil good—my love was here but I did not know
it—and now I have found her.”
And as the fog shrouded them from the street, there was nothing to
prevent him from kissing her once more.
THE END
------------------------------------------------------------------------
APPLETON’S RECENT FICTION
=THE VAGRANT DUKE=
By GEORGE GIBBS
The author of “The Splendid Outcast” has here written another smashing
adventure novel. A Russian Duke, fleeing the Bolsheviki, must work his
way in America. Mystery and romance are what he finds as superintendent
of a queer old multi-millionaire’s estate.
=THE INNOCENT ADVENTURESS=
By MARY HASTINGS BRADLEY
A family of the Italian nobility are hard up and as a solution send
their youngest daughter to search for a husband, wealthy, in America.
She is a brave and attractive little thing, and the author of “The
Fortieth Door” has known how to make her adventures truly exciting.
=THE RAPIDS=
By ALAN SULLIVAN
A novel of the vigorous north, which tells the story of a man who seeks
to transform a simple village into a mighty city. In the voice of the
rapids he hears the urging towards his ambition and the great love which
comes to him.
=THE COUNSEL OF THE UNGODLY=
By CHARLES BRACKETT
A diverting comedy of society life. Peter Van Hoeven, an old society man
who finds himself penniless, takes a position as butler to a very
new-rich lady. Unusual and dramatic situations ensue.
=THE SLEUTH OF ST. JAMES’S SQUARE=
By MELVILLE DAVISSON POST
This master of mystery detective stories has found a new method of
constructing them that is a big contribution to detective fiction. These
tales carry one to all parts of the world, to strange crimes and
mysteries.
=THE UNSEEN EAR=
By NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN
The author of “The Red Seal” and other great successes has never built
up a more baffling mystery than this. A man is murdered in a Washington
home; in the room sits a girl who is deaf and does not hear what passes.
Suspicion points in all directions before the final surprising climax.
=PENGARD AWAKE=
By RALPH STRAUS
The most thrilling depiction since “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” of the
struggle in a man’s soul between the powers of good and evil. Actual
psychological fact is the basis of this remarkable story of the love of
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=JOHN SENESCHAL’S MARGARET=
By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE
John Tempest, imprisoned in Turkey, loses all memory of his true
identity. Returning to England he is believed to be John Seneschal, and
is welcomed by the true John Seneschal’s parents and even by his
sweetheart Margaret.
=THE AGE OF INNOCENCE=
By EDITH WHARTON
This great popular success marks the pinnacle of Mrs. Wharton’s art thus
far. It tells an absorbing story of New York Society in its days of
innocence, about 1880. “One of the best novels of the twentieth
century”, says William Lyon Phelps in the _New York Times_.
=MISS LULU BETT=
By ZONA GALE
A splendid novel that portrays the sudden flowering of happiness in the
life of the family drudge, Miss Lulu Bett. Every word of the book counts
and the characters, from Grandma Bett to the child Monona, are
unsurpassed for living qualities.
=CHILDREN IN THE MIST=
By GEORGE MADDEN MARTIN
Stories that depict the virtues, the limitations, the sweetness and the
humor of the negro, from the emancipation down to the present day. There
is a true insight into the nature of this people, who after fifty-six
years of freedom, still see as in a glass, darkly.
=LUCINDA=
By ANTHONY HOPE
This is the romance of a missing bride, who disappears on her wedding
day, leaving the world baffled and her fiancée ready to pursue her to
the ends of the earth. All of Anthony Hope’s charming ability and
knowledge of how to construct a truly readable story are found in
“Lucinda”.
=THE PORTYGEE=
By JOSEPH C. LINCOLN
Rich humor and insight into human nature are in this entertaining novel
by Joseph C. Lincoln. Everyone enjoys its story of a romantic young
fellow who goes to live down East with his grandfather, a typical old
salt. This is a best-seller, by the author of “Shavings”.
=THE ADVENTUROUS LADY=
By J. C. SNAITH
“Witty, amusing, as light and sparkling as sun-flecked foam”—_New York
Times_. The daughter of an English peer changes places with a governess,
when traveling to the same destination, where each is unknown. The
results are highly entertaining.
=NANCY GOES TO TOWN=
By FRANCES R. STERRETT
Nancy Mary Yates goes to train as a nurse in a hospital. She says she is
hunting for a “Prince Moneybags”. The reader eagerly follows her career,
made zestful by her youth and brave spirit. Nancy finds some unique
characters in her path.
=THE PARTS MEN PLAY=
By A. BEVERLEY BAXTER
A vital picture of a young American who finds himself among England’s
parasite, artistic social set during days of international strife. The
psychology of nations is interestingly shown, and the unfolding of
character under stress finely rendered.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that:
was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_);
was in bold by is enclosed by “equal” signs (=bold=).