And the gunsmiths reply: "Why declare that? All is here, before your
eyes--and you can look."
Platoff shrugged his shoulders and shouted: "Where is the key to the
flea?"
"Here, also," they answered. "Where the flea is, there, also, is the
key, in one and the same walnut."
Platoff tried to grasp the key, but his fingers were blunt; he fumbled
and fumbled, but could not manage to get hold either of the flea, or
of the key which projected from the machinery in its belly, and all at
once he flew into a rage, and began to curse in words after the Cossack
fashion. He shouted: "What do you mean, you rascals? You have made
nothing, and have spoiled the whole thing, to boot! I'll cut your heads
off!"
But the men of Tula made reply: "Without cause do you thus abuse us. We
must suffer all insults from you, as from the Emperor's emissary, but
just because you have doubted us and have thought that we are capable
of deceiving even the Imperial name, we will not tell you our secret,
but you will please to carry it to the Emperor. He will see what sort
of people he has in us, and whether he will suffer shame because of us."
But Platoff roared: "Come, you are lying, you rascals! I'll not part
from you, but one of you shall go to Petrograd with me, and there I
will put him to the question as to the nature of your cunning devices."
Thereupon, he stretched out his hand, seized the squint-eyed,
left-handed smith by the collar with his stubby fingers, so that all
the hooks flew off the man's coat, and flung him at his feet in the
calash.
"Sit here," says he, "in the manner of a poodle, until we get to
Petrograd--you shall answer to me for all of them. And you," says he
to the Cossacks of the Suite, "whip up, there! Don't dawdle! See that
you get me to the Emperor in Petrograd the day after to-morrow."
The artisans merely ventured to say to him, on behalf of their comrade:
"How can you take him from us thus without a tugament?[23] He will not
be able to come back."
But Platoff, in place of answer, showed them his fist,--such a horrible
fist,--dark red and all slashed, seemingly grown together here and
there--and menacing them, he said: "Here's his tugament for you!"