33
Sunday she came back from the trip. I felt quite lonesome all of this
week. Two men were with her: one--a Russian, the silent type, with a
big hat, who was taking care of the horse: the other, a tall, broad
faced Anglo-Saxon fellow, whose bronzed face would be appropriate
in the tropics but not on the white steppes of Siberia. A little
longhaired pony brought the trio in a fancy sledge early in the
morning. The Englishman (his name is Stanley) started to work with
the radio, silent, serious, smoking a short black pipe. He took me for
Lucie's servant. If I had had any doubt of his nationality, I never
could have mistaken his tobacco: Navy Cut,--_the one make_ I can't
tolerate. He filled our small house with blue clouds of stink. When
they all came I ran to the sledge, but from a distance Lucie signaled
to me with her eyes that no tender expressions were needed. She sent
me out for food, then to a drug store, then to the post-office, etc.,
etc. I obeyed.
So around noon I went to see the Princess. They all make me sick,
especially since the L. tragedy. "If God does not help--we cannot." A
certain Mme. K-v is now hanging around her. A suffragette--that's what
she is. She said "some women are now here--we know nothing about ..."
alluding of course to me. I hardly could wait until evening.
It was evening when S. finished connecting the kitchen station with
the city current. When I came home he and the Russian were trying to
harness the pony. The poor little horse was choking from the smoke of
his pipe and trying to bite the torturer.
"Say, Lucie," the Englishman said to her, as shivering in my overcoat,
she came out to say good-bye to him, "the benzine is in the barn,
over there under the hay. Tell your man to be careful and not to smoke
around here."
"If it did not explode after your pipe, sir," I replied in my best
Shakespearian, "my cigarette won't do any harm. So don't be alarmed."
It took him about half a minute to digest the fact that I could
understand his cockney. Lucie became almost hysterical with laughter
and ran into the house.
Then he made a serious face and sprang into the sledge and the Russian
flicked the horse with the whip. Near the corner, I saw him say
something to the Russian and they turned back.
"Say," the Englishman asked, "are you English? Or Canadian, I fancy?"
"Never mind me, Major or Captain, or whoever you are. I'm just I.
Don't fancy, and proceed. I'm busy."
I closed the gate and heard another formidable crack of the whip on
the pony's fat flanks.
Hundreds of bells started ringing again, and then died away in the
distance, drowned out by a locomotive whistle....
And here I was in my room again. In the corner stood Lucie, lovely
creature with all her funny actions and thoughts, Heaven knows by what
and whom inspired.
"Look what I brought, Alex! Here are canned goods, and chocolate and
coffee, and ham, and ..." and she threw package after package on the
bed. On one of them I read "Army and Navy Calcutta," but said nothing
and looked away. I'm getting sly. She noticed it too, the little
devil! She sent me out to see whether or not the gate was closed, and
when I came back the label was scratched out.
34
(_Sixth letter to M. Goroshkin_)
"There are, virtually, three--or perhaps more--organizations, members
of which have decided to save the Emperor from imprisonment. They
all realize the danger of letting things go on by themselves, or of
relying upon German promises.
The latter are well known here and in Tobolsk from Bolshevik sources.
When during the Brest-Litovsk _pourparlers_ the Russian Delegates were
waiting for the Germans, the latter entered the room of conference,
and found it filthy with smoke; the Bolsheviki were extremely
hilarious, and laughed and joked among themselves. To show his
independence Monsieur Trotsky was sitting on the table; others were
without collars and in the most unrespectable state of humor. When
the German delegation entered they did not move; the leader of the
Germans, an old general, stopped for a moment, looked at them in
disgust, and then suddenly shouted: "Stand! Attention! Get up, you,
Kameraden!"
Electrified--they all got up, Trotsky first, although with the remark
"For why"? The General continued:
"By order of His Majesty the King and Emperor, I declare that there
is at Tobolsk in your hands the relative of my August Master,--Her
Imperial Majesty the Empress of Russia with her consort and children.
Until this is arranged--we shall not proceed with this conference of
ours. We demand your guarantees that 1st--you vouch for their perfect
safety; 2d--you immediately will take steps to deliver the prisoners
abroad. Now, at rest! Sit down!"
I was told that the delegates from the soviets had the authority to
vouch for them in this regard, for they say unofficially that the
matter had been previously taken up by Russian and German diplomacy.
So a telegram was sent by Joffe to Lenine, who answered, "measures
taken." Then the Brest-Litovsk sale commenced.
This evidently was not fulfilled, although I have heard that there is
certain movement on the part of Germans, especially amongst the
war prisoners. I consider it impracticable. At present the military
situation is as follows: the Czechs are nearing the Samara-Zlatoust
line; in Siberia--there is a very big movement of Czech war prisoners
and Russians--to assist the Czechs in their task of reaching the
Pacific. Battles are raging on the Volga front. It is evident that the
salvation of the Family cannot come from Germany, for there would not
be any place and way to take the Emperor out of Tobolsk, but by way of
the Trans-Siberian,--a long journey with no possibilities of getting
out of this country. The local Bolsheviki are beyond the control
of the centers. They want to "govern" themselves--evidently with no
orders and particularly confidential (I think this one would be such)
would not be executed.
The Ekaterinburg organization is weak as I already wrote you. First
because the organization is in Ekaterinburg and the Emperor in
Tobolsk.
Who are these people? They want first of all, and altogether,
restitution for the sake of getting good positions for valuable
services rendered the Family. They all see that the restitution is
problematic,--so their desire is not strong. They act weakly, they
think lazily, they move with an agony of indifference. All that they
have done is certainly known to Kobylinsky and--to the Commissaries.
And if they are not yet all arrested--it is because the sovietists
want to know their actions. If the damned lack of organization, that
we all are suffering from, can be noticed in our present life--it is
ideally clearly seen in the Ekaterinburg circles. The Princess G. and
others are of the same sort; dully thinking, believing in and hoping
for marvels and miracles, trying to look busy and tired. They gossip
about each other, they are ready to sink each other in a spoonful of
water. Now what is their plan? They haven't any,--at least, nothing
definite. They all say vaguely "we are going to buy out Col.
Kobylinsky and the sentinels and the Bolsheviki." All right. Supposing
there were someone among them who would go and try this buying
proposition? Supposing they were to buy Kobylinsky, and the sentinels
and the Bolsheviki. What will they do with the Emperor? Against them
there would be the whole world. There is no way for the Ekaterinburg
people to get him out, just as there is no way for the Germans. All is
closed for them, except a crazy scheme of taking the Family into the
interior, which I do not consider feasible. It is impossible. I was
told to watch all that I could in connection with the move in Tumen;
I was instructed to watch the Ekaterinburg organization and the
Princess. I hope I am not considered a member of this organization as
it is a failure, and I hate to participate in deadborn adventures.
Again there is the work that Lucie is doing. I do not know for whom
she works, though I can see she is not working by herself. I can see
that there is 1st, a certain participation of people with means--she
has money and certain buying capacities, a sign of great importance
at present: 2d, there is evidently a planned and systematic scheme
of work in all the actions around me; 3d, there is an unseen hand
directing the whole enterprise, decisive and strong.
What is this plan? I can as now see only one thing: provisions are
made, both in food and munitions, and shipped through my home east.
There is an intense wireless communication--I cannot know what it is
about. A man in smoked glasses comes every evening and sits--near the
apparatus. Sometimes he only listens in; sometimes he gets his "tune"
and talks. In the latter case, Lucie goes down town and leaves me at
home. I think she mails the communications or maybe someone waits for
her in the post office, or, what is possible....
(_few lines scratched out_)
... Her Russian is not at all good, she hardly speaks it in fact, but
she gets along as Lucie de Clive, a French demoiselle. With her,
as far as I can see are the following elements: 1st, the British
officer,--Stanley, or whatever his name really is; 2d, the silent
Russian, with wiry Siberian hat and extremely profane language (I
think he swears when praying): 3d, two Letts as she calls them, though
there is just as much Lettish in them as in you, or me,--they both
speak Russian like Russians; 4th, myself. About the last point I can
tell, that lately I am in the traffic business. Lucie asks me very
often to take loads to the outskirts of Tumen, near the Freight Depot,
which we receive with the Siberian pony, and I take it in my sledge
behind the Depot, where I deliver the goods--only in the evenings--to
the Letts. Sometimes we speak, but never much.
Usually, "Very cold," or "How snowy," or "Have you a cigarette?" After
delivering the goods--altogether I have done it about five times, I
return home. The Letts wait to move until I go away; I did not succeed
in trailing them--and honestly would not want to very much. I have my
private reasons for not getting into Lucie's way. Besides, why should
I? I am sure that we all are working for the same purpose, but perhaps
from different standpoints. On the other hand, it astonishes me
exceedingly, that Lucie....
(_two lines scratched out_)
and he arranged for my protection and undisturbed life here,--so
seemingly everything is in perfect accordance. You never answer my
letters, but couldn't you manage to acknowledge them? Please do it.
Yours,