I AM A NIHILIST.
"I think if you don't mind we will go back to the station," said my
companion, stopping after we had gone a little way without speaking.
"It is very convenient for talking. Besides, you have to decide
whether this thing shall be carried any farther."
"I have already decided," I replied, quietly. "I am going through with
it, if it is at all possible. But I have thought of many difficulties."
"You must know all that I can tell you, please, before you decide, or I
shall be very uncomfortable." She said this very firmly.
"Certainly you must tell me everything that will help me to know what
manner of man I am now." I smiled as I said this to reassure her; but
she was very earnest and a little pale.
She waited a while until there was no one near us, and then said in a
low tone:--
"My brother is mixed up with the Nihilists in some way. I don't know
how, quite: but I believe they suspect him of having played them false,
and I think his life is threatened. Those two men you saw at the
station were spies, sent either to stop him, or, if he got away, to
follow him."
"But they didn't attempt to stop him."
"No, they mistook you for him, thinking they could see through the
disguise of a clean shaven face. Had you entered the train, they would
very likely have told you openly not to go, or have warned you of the
consequences."
"And what would be the consequences?"
"Surely you know what it means for a Nihilist to disobey orders? It is
death." She was white now and agitated. "I am so ashamed at not
having told you before you took the first step."
"It would have made no difference in my decision," I replied promptly.
I thought more of clearing her clouded face than of any possible
consequences to me. "But tell me, are you also mixed up with them in
any way?"
"I am putting my liberty and perhaps my life into your hands," she
said, in the same very earnest tone and manner. "My brother has drawn
me in with him to a certain extent. You know they like to have many
women in the ranks."
"I am sorry for you. I have rarely known a Nihilist who was capable of
getting much pleasure out of life." A cold touch of fear seemed to
contract her features, as she glanced at me and shrank a little from me.
"You! What--how come you to know anything of this? You said you
were--an Englishman?"
"I am an Englishman: but I lived the first sixteen years of my life in
Russia: the last six of them in Moscow here; and I know much of Russian
life. I have made only one visit to Russia since I left; and this time
I arrived only last night, and intended to go on to St Petersburg as I
told you to-day. It will save time in this matter if you can make up
your mind to believe absolutely in my good faith."
I looked into her face as I said this, and I held out my hand. She
laid hers in it, and we clasped hands in a strong firm grip as a token
of mutual faith and friendship. I believed in the little soul, and
meant to stand by her.
"I will trust you now," she said, simply, after a pause.
"As for what you have told me, it can make no difference to me," I
declared. "If I go out and meet this fellow Devinsky to-morrow, and he
beats me, it will be all the same to me whether I am a Nihilist or an
Englishman. There is only one soul in all the world who will care; and
I shall give you a letter to be posted to him--if things go wrong."
I stopped to give her an opportunity of promising to do this; but she
remained silent, and walked with her head bent low. I felt rather a
clumsy fool. She was such a sensitive little body, that the thought of
my being killed, as the result of her having got me to help her brother
away, naturally upset her. She couldn't know how gladly I should
welcome the other man's sword-point between my ribs.
After a pause of considerable constraint she said:--
"There is no need whatever for you to go out and meet Major Devinsky.
You can do as Alexis said; be ill in bed until the passport comes back,
and then leave."
"Oh, I'm not one to play the coward in that way," said I, lightly, when
a look of reproach from those most expressive eyes of hers made me
curse myself for a clumsy fool for this reflection on her brother's
want of pluck. "I mean this. If I take up a part in anything I must
play it my own way; but there's more than that behind. I don't want to
look like bragging before you; but I have come out here to Russia to
volunteer for the war which everyone says must come with Turkey. I've
done it because--well, you may guess that a man has a pretty strong
reason when he wants to volunteer to fight another country's battles.
It's the sort of thing in which he can expect plenty of the kicks,
while others get all the ha'pence. I've not been a success in England
and I've had a stroke lately that's made me sick of things. I can't
explain all this in detail: but the long and short of it is that if
anything were to happen to me to-morrow morning, it would be the most
welcome thing imaginable for me. Now, you'll understand what I mean
when I tell you that nothing you can say as to the danger of the
business can do anything but attract me. If I could only feel my blood
tingling again in a rush of excitement, I'd give anything."
My companion listened carefully to this, and her tell-tale face was all
sympathy when I finished. Obviously she was deeply interested.
"Have you no mother or sister?" she asked.
"No--fortunately for them."
"Have you never had anyone to lean on you and trust to you for guidance
and protection? That helps a good man."
"No. But I've had those who've taken good care to break my trust in
them--and everything else." This with a bitter little reminiscent
sneer and a shrug of the shoulders. "Still, it has its advantages.
Any new part I might wish to play could not be more barren than the
old."
My companion shot a glance up in my face as I said this, but made no
answer. It was I who broke the silence.
"Time is flying," I said, in a lighter tone: "and I have much to learn
if I am to be your brother for the next two or three days. I want to
know where I live, where you live, all that you can tell me about my
brother officers and my duties--everything. Indeed that is necessary
to prevent my being at once discovered."
After some further expostulation she told me that she and her brother
were orphans; that they had come about a year or so before to Moscow on
her brother being transferred to this regiment; and that the brother
had private quarters in the Square of St. Mark, while she lived with an
aunt, their only relative, in a suite of rooms close to the Cathedral.
They were of a very old family, neither rich nor poor, but having
enough to live comfortably and mix in some amount of society.
I gathered, however, that Alexis had been the source of much trouble.
He had embarrassed his money affairs; lived a fast life, become
involved with the Nihilists; dragged in his sister; and had ended by
compromising himself in many quarters. She told me the story, so much
as she knew of it, very deftly, intending no doubt to screen her
brother; but I could read enough between the lines to understand that
his life had been anything but saintly. Moreover, I was very much
mistaken if he were not as arrant a coward as ever crowed on a
dung-hill and ran away when the time came for fighting.
All this gave me plenty of food for thought--some of it disagreeable
enough. It was no pleasant thing to take up the part of a coward and a
scape-grace. Scapegrace I had been all my life in a way: but no man
ever thought me a coward.
I take no credit to myself for not being a coward; and I am quite ready
to believe that there are sound physiological reasons for it. Nature
may have forgotten to give me those nerves by which men feel fear; but
it is the case that never in my life have I experienced even a passing
sensation of fear. I would just as soon die as go to sleep. I have
seen men--much better men than I, and quite as truly brave--shudder at
the idea of death and shrink with dread from the thought of pain. But
at no time in my life have I cared for either; and I have come to
regard this as due to Nature's considerate omissions in my creation.
Certain other omissions of hers have not been so considerate.
This will explain, however, why the thought of the danger which
troubled my new "sister" so much did not cause me even a passing
uneasiness, especially at such a time. What I was anxious to do was to
get hold of as much detail as possible of my new character; and I was
sufficiently interested by it to wish to play it successfully.
To this end I questioned my companion very closely indeed about the
names and appearance of the brother's friends and fellow officers,
about the habits of military life, and in short about everything I
deemed likely to help me not to stumble.
At the close of the examination I said:----
"At any rate we two must begin to rehearse. You must call me Alexis
and must allow me to call you Olga; and we must do it always to avoid
slips."
She saw the need but blushed a bit when I added:---"And now, Olga,
we'll make our first practical experiment. We'll go together to my
rooms and you must shew me what sailors call my bearings."
"Shall we walk--Alexis?" she asked, her eyes bright and her cheeks
ruddy with pretty confusion.
"By all means--Olga," I answered, returning her smile, and imitating
her emphasis on the Christian name. "Do you know that my sister's name
has a very quaint sound in my ears, and comes very trippingly to a
brother's tongue?"
"But you don't like it and you think it common," she returned.
"I?"
"Yes, you have often said so, Alexis. Surely you remember. Why, only
this morning you said how silly you had always thought it," she
replied, demurely.
"Oh, I see," I laughed. "Ah, I've changed that opinion. A good many
other things have changed too, since this morning," I added drily; and
we both laughed then, and, considering the circumstances, were in
extremely good spirits.
"Alexis," she cried, with a sudden warning, as we turned a corner into
the Square of St. Gregory. "Don't you see who is coming toward us?
Major Devinsky and Lieutenants Trackso and Weisswich. The major will
pass next you. What will you do?" She asked this in a quick hurried
voice.
"Cut him as dead as a door nail," said I, instantly, drawing myself up.
"And the other fellows too; are they friends of mine, by the way?"
"No, they are his toadies," she whispered.
Olga bent her face down and would not see them; but I squared my
shoulders and held my head aloft, fixing my eyes steadily on the three
men as they approached. At first they did not recognise me. Then I
saw one of them start, and making a rapid motion of his hand across his
chin, he whispered to his companion, both of whom started in their turn
and laughed.
As we passed the major made an effusive bow to my "sister" which the
other two copied, while all three sneered with an air of insolent
braggadocio and simultaneously put their hands to their chins as their
eyes fell on me.
My blood seethed with anger at the insult. Nothing could have fired my
eagerness more effectively to begin the drama of my new life. If I
didn't punish each of those three for that insult, it should be because
death stepped in to stop me.
"I am glad we met them," said I, smiling. "I shall know now which is
my adversary to-morrow, and shan't pink the wrong man by mistake. But
you look a bit scared, Olga."--I saw she was very pale.
"I am afraid of that man," she answered. "He is a man of good family
and great wealth, and has a lot of influence in certain circles. He is
an ugly enemy."
"Ugly, he certainly is," said I, lightly, speaking of his face.
"I mean dangerous," replied the girl seriously.
"I know you do, child," I answered, as naturally as if she were really
my sister. "But we'll wait till we talk this over after to-morrow
morning. I tell you what I'll promise you as a treat. You shall
breakfast with me, or rather I'll breakfast with you to-morrow, and
tell you at first hand all about the meeting. You have been a little
too anxious about me."
"I am afraid that might occasion remark," she replied with the demure
look I had noticed once or twice before. "You know that you have not
always been an attentive brother, Alexis: and it is not good acting to
overdo the part:" and she threw me a little smile and a glance.
I laughed and answered:--"That may be: but I've changed since the
morning, as I told you before."
"Very well, then. You remember of course that aunt never gets up early
enough to have breakfast with me--but you shall come if"--and here the
light died right out of her face and her underlip trembled so that she
had to bite it to keep it steady--"if all goes well, as I pray it may."
"You are a good sister, and need have no fear. I am not made of the
stuff to go down before that bully's sword. So get ready my favourite
dish--whatever that may be--and I'll promise to do justice to it."
"Here are your rooms," she said, a moment later, as she stopped before
a large wide house. "They are on the ground floor with those windows.
But before we go in, remember your manservant's name is Vosk, and he is
a very sharp fellow. And please let me give you a word of warning.
Alexis has not only not been attentive to me, but his manner has often
been very brusque and--oh, if you had had sisters you would know how
brothers behave. They don't mind turning their backs on one; they
contradict, and interrupt and laugh at one; treat one as a convenience,
and are rude. They don't in the least mind hiding their affection
under the garb of indifference and contempt, and all that."
"Am I to treat you with contempt, then?" I asked with a grin.
"I think you should be a little more brusque," she replied, laughing
and blushing. She was really a very jolly little sister.
"I shall get into it all in a day or two, perhaps."
"You had better try. Vosk is very sharp indeed."
"All right, I'll find means somehow to dull his wits."
We went in and I then tried to put a little more bluntness into my
manner and to play the brother.
The man was in his room when I entered and started when he saw the
change in my appearance. I caught his vigilant eye glance sharply at
the pattern and cut of my clothes.
"Does your face hurt you now, Alexis?" asked Olga.
I understood her and answered in a somewhat surly tone, putting my hand
to my left cheek. "No, not so much now; but it was an infernally silly
joke to play. It's cost me my beard and a suit of clothes. A good
thing it wasn't a uniform. Put out something for me to wear, Vosk," I
said sharply to the man.
He looked at me again very keenly, but went at once to do what I
ordered. Olga and I went into the chief sitting room--there were two
leading one out of the other--and sat down. The man's manner had
reminded me of several things. Very soon I made an excuse and sent him
out.
"You must tell me all about the clothes I have to wear at different
functions," I said. "Vosk saw that these were not out of my wardrobe
proper, and while he's out, I'll hurry and change them, and we'll see
how the uniforms fit me. A mistake may spoil everything at the last
moment."
I ran into the bedroom and slipped into the undress uniform the man had
laid ready. To my supreme satisfaction I found that they fitted me
fairly well; and though they required some touches here and there, they
would pass muster as my own. I tried on also some of the other
uniforms I saw in the room; and wearing one of them, I went back to my
"sister."
She cried out in her astonishment:--"My brother Alexis to the life."
"Your brother Alexis to the death," I answered so earnestly that she
coloured as I took her hand and kissed it. Then in a lighter tone I
added, "Uniforms make all men of anything like the same figure look
alike. It's fortunate that your brother's an army man." Then we
chatted for some minutes until I thought it prudent to change back
again into the undress uniform that Vosk had put out.
Then I took a lesson in uniforms and questioned Olga until she had told
me all that she herself knew about them.