The first hour of our walk in the bright balmy night proved fresh and
pleasant after the stifling malodorous town. My unknown guide was, I
soon discovered, a typical gaol-bird, the fact being made plain by the
scanty growth of hair on one side of his head revealed when he
inadvertently removed his cap to wipe his brow with his dirty hand. His
strong knee-boots were well-patched, but he was out at elbow, and his
moustache and matted beard sadly wanted trimming. He kept his
appointment to the moment, and declining my invitation to drink, we set
off together, ascending the low hill behind the town, and taking a
circuitous route back to the river bank. By no means devoid of a sense
of humour, he strode along jauntily, laughing, joking, and making light
of any risk of capture, until I began to regard him with less suspicion.
That he was no ordinary moujik was certain, for he spoke of life and
people in Moscow, in Nijni, and even in Petersburg, his conversation
showing a more intimate acquaintance than could be acquired by mere
hearsay. Our way at first was through narrow lanes of dirty wooden
houses, where the foetid odours of decaying refuse greeted our nostrils;
then, leaving the town, we ascended through some cornfields until,
suddenly descending again, we came to where the Niemen flowed onward
between its sedgy banks, its placid bosom a sheet of silver beneath the
light of the full moon.
Fully three miles we trudged along the post-road beside the river,
passing a solitary little hamlet. Not a soul stirred, not a dog barked.
The place seemed uninhabited. Now and then we passed a country cart
driven by some sleepy peasant who had imbibed too freely of vodka, until
we came to where a striped verst-post stood at the junction of another
narrower highway.
"That's the road to Jurburg, and to the frontier at Poswentg," my
companion remarked, in reply to my enquiry. "It's too dangerous for
us."
"Why?"
"It swarms with frontier-guards," he answered, with a low laugh. "We
have no desire to encounter any of these gentlemen this evening,
therefore we must presently take to the paths. See!" and he nodded
upward to the sky, "The tail of the Great Bear points downwards. We
shall have luck to-night."
"Is this the route you take with the fugitives?" I asked, pausing to
take breath, and gazing around upon the lovely scene, for here the
moonlit river flowed among its osiers and rushes, across the great
grass-covered steppe.
"Yes," he answered. "This is the only portion of our journey where
there are serious risks of detection, so let us hurry. On a bright
night like this, a man can be seen a long way off. The guards are too
fond of hiding along the banks, fearing that any German boats from
Endruszen may creep up the river."
I started forward again, and we both quickened our pace. I now saw from
his demeanour that he feared an encounter, for at each unusual sound he
paused, his hand uplifted in silence. At last, at a point where the
stream made a sudden bend, we left the river road and plunged into a
great marsh, where the reeds grew almost as high as ourselves, and where
our feet ever and anon sank deep into chill, slimy mud. As soon as we
had left the river, my strange guide became as jovial as before, and
spoke entirely without restraint. Fear of detection no longer troubled
him, for as we held on our way over the soft clay, the silence of the
calm night was now and then broken by his coarse laughter. On that
flat, marshy land, each step became hampered by huge cakes of yellow mud
that clung to our boots, while often I sank with a splash ankle-deep in
water, much to my companion's amusement. Whistling softly to himself,
he laughed at all misfortunes, assuring me that we should very soon find
drier ground, and that before dawn I should meet Sonia Korolenko, who
was awaiting me.
"She is your leader--eh?" I asked.
"Well, of course," he answered, with a grim smile. In the moonlight he
looked a shaggy, evil-faced ruffian, and more than once, when I
remembered that I had upon me a good round sum in notes and gold, I
regretted that I had trusted myself with him unarmed. "The police drove
her from Vienna, from Paris, from London; so she has come to us."
"And is yours a paying profession?" I asked interested.
"Generally," he answered, with that frankness that characterised all his
conversation. "You'd be surprised how many people seek our assistance.
Some of our party are in St Petersburg, Moscow, and Warsaw, and make the
contracts with the fugitives; then they hand them over to us, and we do
the rest."
"You guarantee to put them on German soil, or bring foreigners into
Russia for a fixed sum?"
"Yes. You would open your eyes if you knew some of the people I've
guided over this very path. Sometimes it is a Jew peasant who has no
permit, and desires to emigrate to London, or to America; at others, an
escaped prisoner, a murderer, or a revolutionist, who is being tracked
down by the Security Section. We always know why they are leaving
Russia, and make them pay accordingly. Not long ago I brought a young
titled lady across here; accompanied her into Germany, and put her into
the train for Berlin. We had a narrow shave of being captured, but she
gave me a thousand roubles when we parted."
"Why did she want to leave secretly?" I asked.
"She had poisoned her husband somewhere down in Minsk, and the police
were in search of her," he laughed. "Never a night passes, but one or
other of us cross the frontier."
"And you find it an adventurous game--eh?"
"Well, it is pleasant after ten years of Siberia," he answered grimly.
"I let loose the red rooster and burned down the barin's house in a
village in Tver. He well deserved it. I and two friends got away with
his money and jewels to Moscow, but one night, a week later, I had an
appointment to meet my companions opposite the fountain in the Lubyansky
Square, and was arrested."
"And you got ten years?"
"They made out that the barin got burned to death, so I was packed off
for life to Kara. After ten years I managed to escape and become a
`cuckoo.' Then after a year's wandering I succeeded in returning to
Moscow, where I found one or two old friends, and we started together in
this business. We don't intend to fall into the drag-net of the police
again," he added with a sardonic grin, at the same moment drawing from
his trousers pocket a big army revolver.
"Do the frontier-guards ever trouble you?"
"Sometimes," he laughed. "When we meet we always show fight. Three
were killed in a brush with some of our party not long ago. It will
teach them not to interfere with us for a little time."
Long ago I had heard of a gang of desperate characters who made the
strip of zealously-guarded territory between Germany and Russia a terror
to travellers, and the utter loneliness of the dismal place, and the
swaggering demeanour of my evil-faced companion increased my mistrust.
We left the swamp shortly afterwards, and strode out again across the
boundless undulating steppe that stretched away as far as the eye could
reach. The moon had sunk lower in the sky, and a whitish cloud appeared
in the zenith which seemed to shine with a phosphorescent light. Our
trackless path wound between low shrubs, and then, after another hour's
weary, lonely plodding across the grass-covered plain, we came to a
clump of trees where the underwood was thick and tangled.
I paused for a moment to gaze behind at the great expanse of flat,
uncultivated, uninhabited country we had traversed. A mystery seemed to
plane over the boundless steppe. The night wind played among the dry
grasses, and sad thoughts awakened in my soul.
Hist!... there was a slight rustling! A reddish fur gleamed in the
moonlight so close to me that I could see the ears of a fox and its
bushy tail sweeping the ground. It disappeared between the trees, and
my heart beat faster as together we went forward, bursting through the
underwood. The twigs struck me in the face; I stumbled, gasped for
breath, and halted. The wail of a night bird broke the silence.
At that moment I saw my companion bending at the foot of a solitary tree
that stood alone amid the tangled undergrowth. There was a hole in its
trunk from which he drew forth something and placed it hastily in his
pocket. Then, turning towards me, he took out a cigarette and calmly
lit it, saying,--
"We have nothing now to fear."
He allowed the match to burn much longer than was absolutely necessary.
Instantly the thought flashed upon me that this light might be a signal
to some of his nefarious companions.
But together we went forward again; he jovial and amusing, I moody and
thoughtful. His actions had aroused my suspicions. I glanced at my
watch, and in the dim light distinguished that it was just past two
o'clock. We had already been walking four hours.
Presently, chattering and laughing as we proceeded, we left the wide
rolling steppe and plunged into a great wood. The forest was still as
death. The moss-grown fir trees stretched out their huge arms as they
waved slowly to and fro like funeral plumes. Little light penetrated
there, but now and then we could see the bright stars between the
branches as we went along a narrow winding track, the intricacies of
which were apparently well-known to my guide, for he went onward with
the firm, confidential tread of one who know the path, while I followed
him closely, the dead branches crackling beneath our feet.
Once or twice a noise fell upon his quick ear, and we halted, he
standing revolver in hand in an attitude of defence. Each time,
however, we ascertained that we had no occasion for alarm, the noise
being made by some animal or bird startled by our sudden intrusion.
Then we resumed our midnight journey in single file.
During half an hour we proceeded, he leading the way, directing his
footsteps by marks upon the trunks of the trees, so near the ground that
they would have escaped the notice of any but those who knew of their
whereabouts.
Once I thought I detected a dark figure between the trees, and fearing
that it might be one of the sentries, whispered a word of warning to my
guide, but he reassured me by telling me that we were skirting the
frontier outside guarded territory, therefore there could be no danger.
Nevertheless, as he turned to me, I thought his furrowed face looked
darker, and his teeth gleamed whiter than usual.
We walked on. The forest was silent, save for the soft whisper of the
pines. Without uttering any word I was following closely the footsteps
of my guide, when suddenly, how it occurred I know not, I was conscious
of being stopped dead by my evil-faced companion, who, with a quick
movement, brought up his ready revolver to a level with my head.
Fate had played me an ugly trick. One thought remained uppermost in the
chaos of wild, feverish fancies that seized me--the thought of the woman
who was my wife.