"Marie! Marie! What are you doing? Why have you run away?"
Prilukoff's right hand was still uplifted, and now he held it close to
his temple. As I clutched that hand I could also feel the cold contact
with the steel of a revolver.
"Do you swear that you will be mine forever?"
I murmured something inarticulate. Naumoff was calling under his breath:
"Marie! Marie! Open the door."
Prilukoff raised his voice slightly. "Swear to me that you loathe that
man and the other; swear that if I murdered them both you would still be
mine."
"Yes, yes. Speak softly!"
"Swear it! Swear that they shall both die, that you will help me to rid
the world of them. Swear it." I could feel his hand tenser against his
temple, I could feel the first finger crooking itself over the trigger.
"Unless you swear," hissed Prilukoff, "I shall shoot myself here, this
instant."
I did so. He repeated the words softly with me: "_I swear--that--they
shall die._" And something within me kept saying: "I am dreaming all
this."
"That is not enough!" breathed Prilukoff. "Swear it on the life of
Tioka."
My parched lips opened, but the iniquitous words would not pass my
throat.
Then Prilukoff pushed me from him and the fingers of his right hand
moved. I heard a slight clicking sound. I threw myself forward.
"I swear it--"
And I swore it on the life of Tioka.
Prilukoff's hand dropped to his side; he seemed to reel slightly, and
staggering backwards leaned against the foot of my bed.
Naumoff on the other side of the door was growing impatient. He shook
the handle.
I bent over to Prilukoff. "Are you going to betray me? If I open this
door, will you show yourself?"
He laughed derisively. "Go along, go along," he muttered. And I opened
the door.
"Why did you run away?" asked Naumoff, taking my hand.
I closed the door behind me. I felt no more fear of Prilukoff. I felt no
more fear of any one or anything. My heart seemed turned to stone. And
as I stood thus, some one else knocked at the outside door. It was
Kamarowsky.
And the door was not locked! I turned quickly and blew out the lamp.
But Naumoff had taken a rapid step forward, and turned the key in the
lock. Then he stood still, leaning against the door.
Kamarowsky outside heard him; and thinking it was I, murmured softly:
"Good-night! Good-night, my darling!"
Then I was seized with a convulsive fit of laughter. I laughed and
laughed, shaken from head to foot by a wild paroxysm of mirth. I could
not leave off laughing. I laughed until the laughter became a spasm
which racked and agonized me; my teeth chattered, I trembled and quaked;
and still the hysterical laughter continued, shaking my entire frame as
an aspen is shaken by a brutal hand. I laughed and laughed, trying to
laugh softly in order that those three men standing in the dark should
not hear me.
The thought of the three men motionless behind the doors made me laugh
more than ever. Tears ran down my face, my head felt as if it would
burst asunder. And still I rocked in the throes of frantic laughter
until body and soul seemed to be shattered and rent....