THE TRATKIR.
With evident suspicion and mistrust, Bernikoff viewed the growing
intimacy between his prisoner Ivan and the Scottish Captain; and
though he neither recommended that it should cease or interdicted it,
as he might and perhaps ought to have done, he made many mental notes
thereof.
Though Balgonie sympathised with Ivan to the fullest extent, he knew
too well the danger of doing more; and he felt that he had his own
share of secret sorrow and anxiety, and might yet have greater to
endure. The girl he loved with all the strength of a first and
romantic passion was already a political fugitive; her father and
cousin were prisoners, and perhaps in chains; her brother and his
kinsman, Usakoff, already viewed as criminals; and with the terrors
of despotism hanging over them all.
Natalie a fugitive--and where? In the wild forests, perhaps, where
wolves and outlaws lurked: what perils and privations might she not
be suffering! Natalie so delicate, so pure, so gently nurtured, and
so highly bred.
Balgonie was aware, also, that intimacy with the family of Count
Mierowitz, and the deep interest he had in their fate, was fraught
with personal peril to himself in such a land of tyranny as Russia.
Full of such thoughts as these one forenoon, he was leaning on a
cannon in one of those deep embrasures of the fortress which faced
the drawbridge communicating with the land. The guard was in the act
of lowering the bridge to permit a man to pass out. This person was
just parting from Bernikoff, with whom he had been for some time in
close and earnest conversation, and from whom he was evidently
receiving money--an unusual circumstance, as that distinguished
field-officer generally lavished more kicks and cuffs than thanks or
kopecs.
On beholding this man, as he bowed humbly, cap in hand, cross the
bridge and disappear among the houses of the town beyond, Balgonie
experienced a species of nervous shock. He could not doubt that this
fellow, so gigantic in stature and powerful in muscular development,
in the coarse caftan and leathern girdle, with the long lock of
grizzled hair dangling behind his right ear, was Nicholas Paulovitch,
the murderer of Podatchkine, the gipsy woodman, and the swindling
mendicant of the barrier at the Neva.
"This man here in Schlusselburg," thought Balgonie, with indignation
and alarm; "here in earnest conversation with Bernikoff! The spirit
of mischief seems to pervade the air again!"
A few minutes afterwards the Cossack Jagouski who, as related, had
been so severely knouted by Bernikoff for pilfering a pipeful of
tobacco, came forward with tottering steps, and looking painfully
thin and feeble from recent suffering; and with the crouching bearing
of the Muscovite towards a superior, said that his Excellency the
Governor wished to speak with him in his quarters, whither Balgonie
at once repaired, after having, as military etiquette required,
buckled on his sword.
"Carl Ivanovitch," said Bernikoff, who certainly had rather a
perturbed air, "some suspicious characters are in our vicinity, and
have actually been hovering in boats about the fortress. What think
you of that?"
"Suspicious characters, Excellency--how?"
"In a Tratkir of the town, one dropped this coin--a silver rouble of
the prisoner Ivan--Ivan the Unknown Person. To possess one, unless
as I do this, for proof of treason, is to court death or Siberia."
"And from whom had you this?"
"A spy," replied the Colonel curtly.
"The man who has just left you?"
"The same."
"Nicholas Paulovitch," continued Balgonie, with increasing
astonishment at the other's coolness; "the assassin of the
Corporal--the wretch of whom I told you when I first arrived here!"
"All that may, or may not be," replied Bernikoff, with a stern air,
almost amounting to rudeness: "when I require this devil of a fellow
no more, you may impale him, if you please; but molest him not at
present."
"I do not see, Excellency, that all this in any way concerns me,"
said Balgonie haughtily, as he lifted his hat, and put his sabre
under his arm, as if about to retire.
"It does concern you thus far. I shall anticipate any attempt that
be made by those lurkers, whoever they may be. You must remember,"
he added, lowering his voice, "the tenor of the dispatch you brought
me?"
"Perfectly," replied Charlie, in a somewhat faint voice, as he knew
not how terrible or repugnant might be the duty assigned him by this
military despot.
"Well, you shall pass forth into the town tonight, with a patrol of
twenty men, armed with sabres and carbines. Surround and search the
Tratkir in the main street, and compel all therein, who seem
suspicious, to produce their papers; and if they are without such,
bring them to me, and I shall question them, in a fashion of my own."
By the laws of Russia, at that time, persons could not travel from
St. Petersburg, or even from place to place, without a passport,
describing their occupation, appearance, and route, which they were
not at liberty to alter; and in the rural districts, travellers
required a pass from the lord whose estate they may have been upon,
before they were at liberty to quit it. Without such a document, no
one would dare to furnish them with food or shelter, nor could a
postmaster give them horses, however high their rank, or great their
of reward. [Transcriber's note: the rest of this paragraph illegible
in scan.]
"And I am to take twenty men with me?" said Balgonie, after an
unpleasant pause.
"Yes! the bridge will be lowered for you after sunset. Whoever these
lurkers are, they have been seen and overheard; and this coin is
proof sufficient to warrant the transportation of a whole province.
Be they who they may, by every dome in sacred Mother Moscow, they
shall find me ready for them!"
And Bernikoff grimly touched his small dagger, a species of weapon
which a Russian officer is seldom or never without, even in the
present day; and when Charlie Balgonie remembered how that same
dagger had been thrust into the throat of the half-strangled Peter
III., a flush of indignant hate and aversion crossed his honest face.
To him it was evident that the spirit of mischief or malevolence made
Bernikoff select him, as one whom he suspected of a friendly interest
in the family of Count Mierowitz, for this unpleasant duty, instead
of Captain Vlasfief, the Lieutenant of Schlusselburg, or any other
officer, who must have been better acquainted with the adjacent town
and all its places of entertainment, than he, a total stranger, could
ever be.
But he was a soldier; he had no resource but to obey in silence; and
an angry sigh escaped him, as he stuck his loaded pistols in his
girdle, when the sun sank behind the green painted roofs of the
wooden town, and the evening gun boomed from the ramparts across the
Lake of Ladoga.
Defiling in the twilight through the streets of Schlusselburg, he
marched straight to where he knew that the principal Tratkir, or
tea-house, was situated; and while his heart sank within him in fear
of _whom_ he might arrest,--perhaps Natalie herself,--he at once
surrounded the building, to prevent all egress, and to the evident
alarm and perturbation of all who were within.
These tea-houses are no longer to be found in the capital of Russia
now, for there all the _restaurants_ are constituted and arranged
upon the French and German models; but they still exist in Moscow and
elsewhere; and under their roofs, the genuine Muscovite consumes what
would seem a fabulous amount of the Chinese plant. They are chiefly
the resort of soldiers, porters, and droski drivers, all of whom must
behave in a polite and orderly manner while there. All must enter
the great room where the tea is served, cap in hand, alike out of
respect for the company, and to the holy pictures, Souzdal daubs of
SS. Sergius, Alexander Newski, and so forth, which decorate the
walls; and all must salute the bar-keeper, after first saluting the
Holy Image, which is to be found in every Russian apartment, and
before which, a lamp of train oil is frequently burning.
When the crooked sabres of the dismounted Cossacks were seen flashing
in the porch, and when Balgonie entered with his sword drawn, passing
along the narrow way between the numerous tables, at which the groups
were seated, amid an oppressive odour of strong tea, coarse tobacco,
and Russian leather from boots, caps, and girdles; many a peasant in
his canvas caftan, and many a stout moujik in his fur shoubah, felt
his heart quail with apprehension, he knew not of what; and every
saucer--the tea is not drunk from cups--was set down untasted, while
one or two men nearly choked themselves with their lumps of sugar;
for usually it is not put into the tea, but is retained in the mouth
of the drinker, so that, in a spirit of economy, the poor Muscovite
may indulge in two, perhaps three cups of his favourite beverage, and
use thereto but one piece of sugar.
For his intrusion Balgonie apologised; this, though a very unusual
proceeding in a country so despotic, failed to reassure the tea
drinkers, who were all hushed in silence and expectation; and a girl
who had been singing for their amusement, crouched down in a corner
for concealment.
Balgonie counted the number of persons in the Tratkir, and noted the
exact hour by his watch; he then proceeded, with a heart full of
anxiety and dread, to examine each person in succession, in reality
looking for those he had no wish to find.
All who possessed the requisite papers, showed them; others proved,
all in succession, to be soldiers in uniform, moujiks, and droski
drivers, with their brass badges, sailors, and serfs; thus, after a
time, a load seemed to be lifted from the mind of the young officer.
As he turned to leave the apartment without a prisoner, the Cossack
Jagouski rather roughly dragged the singing girl from the nook where
she had sought concealment, and then Balgonie recognised the fine
dark face, the black eyes, and the large glittering ear-rings of Olga
Paulowna, the gipsy girl whom he had befriended at Louga--she who
saved him from a terrible fate in the forest.
"Let the girl go free, Jagouski," said Balgonie; "I shall answer for
her if required."
Olga drew a paper from her bosom and showed that it was her passport
from the Commandant of Krejko, permitting her to travel to and from
Schlusselburg.
Jagouski saluted and withdrew a few paces; and now, as if the cloud
of doubt and dread Balgonie's arrival had cast over all was
dispersed, again the noisy hum of voices pervaded the long room of
the tea-house, and laughter even broke forth at intervals.
"Olga," said Balgonie, "you here--so far from home?"
"Yes, Hospodeen, for my home is anywhere, or wherever night finds me;
but I have news for you."
"News--and for me?"
"Yes," said she, sinking her voice to a whisper; "I have news of
Natalie Mierowna----"
"Hush, for heaven's sake, girl!--hush!" said Balgonie with a nervous
start.
"She is here----"
"Here in this house?"
"No, Hospodeen."
"Where then?--oh, speak quickly!"
"In the neighbourhood of Schlusselburg."
Charlie felt his heart die within him at this intelligence, for such
a vicinity was full of peril.
"Be to-morrow at noon on the road that leads to Tosna, and you shall
learn more; but do you know it, Hospodeen?"
"I shall soon discover it--and the place?"
"The skirts of the wood four versts from this."
"Good--till then, adieu; and God be with you."
Balgonie retired all unaware or heedless that his Cossacks were
secretly jesting at his whispering with the pretty gipsy; and through
the dark streets he marched them towards the great and sombre masses
of the fort which loomed between him and the star-lighted sky, his
heart the while being literally sick with alarm and dismay, in the
conviction, that the long-dreaded crisis was coming--that Natalie was
near, and the place of her concealment was known to a vagrant gipsy
girl, the sister of Nicholas Paulovitch, who, if he knew it not
already, might wrest the secret from her with the point of his knife,
for the information of him whose spy he was--the hateful Bernikoff!
Ruin and sorrow were close at hand, indeed.
On receiving the official but verbal report of Balgonie, and learning
that the visit to the identical tea-house where the dangerous rouble
was found had proved abortive, and that there was no one to be
knouted or hanged in the morning, Colonel Bernikoff became
transported with rage, and lifted his cane somewhat threateningly.
On this, Balgonie's hand was instantly laid on the hilt of his sword.
"Beware, Excellency," said he firmly: "a blow to an equal is a foul
insult; to an inferior it is mean tyranny; and, in either instance,
blood alone should wash it out."
On this the Colonel's rage assumed a new phase; he trod on his cocked
hat, and ordered the wax candles which he had always burning before
the image of his patron, St. Sergius, to be extinguished. He loaded
the effigy with the bitterest reproaches, and for that night left the
poor saint in total darkness, despite the intercession of Father
Chrysostom.