THE BEGINNING OF THE END
The whole thing happened far more quickly than it can be told. I dragged
Anne back from the window, slammed the shutters to,--for one of the
Cossacks' favorite tricks was to fire at any one seen at a window in the
course of a street row,--and, curtly bidding Anne stay where she was for
the moment, rushed downstairs and out into the street, revolver in hand.
Mishka and half a dozen of our men were before me; there were very few
of us in the house just now; most of the others were with Loris and
Vassilitzi, attending a big procession and meeting in Marchalkowskaia,
with their usual object,--to maintain order as far as possible, and
endeavor to prevent conflicts between the troops and the people. It was
astonishing how much Loris had achieved in this way, even during these
last terrible days of riot and bloodshed. He was ever on the alert; he
seemed to know by instinct how to seize the right moment to turn the
temper of the crowd or the soldiers, and avert disaster; and his
splendid personality never failed in its almost magnetic effect on every
one who came in contact with it. He was a born leader of men!
And, although he was always to the fore in every affair, as utterly
reckless of his own safety as he was anxious to secure the safety of
others, he had hitherto come unscathed through everything, though a
couple of our men had been killed outright, several others badly
wounded, and the rest of us had got a few hard knocks one way or other.
I'd had a bullet through my left arm, the arm that was broken in the
scrimmage outside Petersburg in June, a flesh wound only, luckily,
though it hurt a bit when I had time to think of it,--which wasn't
often.
By the time we got into the street, the affair was over. The Cossacks,
urging their ponies at the usual wild gallop, and firing wantonly up at
the houses, since the people who had been in the street had rushed for
cover, were almost out of sight; and on the road and sidewalk near at
hand were several killed and wounded,--mostly women,--besides Madame
Levinska, who had been the cause of it all, and had paid with her life.
She was a hideous sight, she who five minutes before had been so gay, so
audacious, so full of vivacity. The brutes had riddled her prostrate
body with bullets, slashed at it with their whips, trampled it under
their horses' hoofs; and it lay huddled, shapeless, with scarce a
semblance to humanity left in it.
I head a low, heartfelt cry, and saw Anne beside me, her fair face ashen
white, her eyes dilated with horror and compassion, as she stared at her
friend's corpse.
"Go back!" I said roughly. "You can do nothing for her. And we will see
to the rest; go back, I say. There may be more trouble."
"My duty is here," she said quietly, and passed on to bend over a woman
who was kneeling and screaming beside a small body,--that of a lad about
eight or nine years old,--which lay very still.
It was, as I well knew, useless to argue with Anne; so I went on with
my ambulance work in grim silence, keeping near her, and letting the
others go to and fro, helping the wounded into shelter and carrying away
the dead. Natalya had run out also and joined her mistress. Yossof was
not at hand; it was he whom we expected to bring the news we were
awaiting so eagerly. He had come with us to Warsaw, and though he lived
in the Ghetto among his Jewish kindred, was constantly back and forth.
He was invaluable as a messenger,--a spy some might call him,--although
he knew no language but Yiddish and Polack, and the queer Russian lingo
that was a mingling of all three. But of course he learned a great deal
from his fellow Jews. Hunted, persecuted, wretched as they are, the
Polish and Russian Jews always have, or can command, money, and the way
they get hold of news is nothing short of marvellous,--in the Warsaw
Ghetto, anyhow!
There was quite a crowd around us soon, as the people who had fled
before the Cossacks came back again,--weeping, gesticulating, shouting
imprecations on the Tzar, the Government, the soldiers,--as they always
did when they were excited; but, as usual, doing very little to help.
All at once there was a bigger tumult near at hand, and a mob came
pouring along the street, a disorderly procession of men and women and
little children, flaunting banners, waving red handkerchiefs, laughing,
crying, shouting, and singing, as if they were more than half delirious
with joy and excitement. And what was more remarkable, there were
neither police nor soldiers in sight, nor any sign of Loris or his men.
Many such processions occurred in Warsaw that day, when the great news
came,--news that was soon to be so horribly discounted and annulled;
and that, for me, was rendered insignificant, even in that first hour,
by the great tragedy that followed hard upon its coming,--the tragedy
that will overshadow all my life. Even after the lapse of years I can
scarcely bring myself to write of it, though every incident is stamped
indelibly on my brain. Clear before my eyes now rises Anne's face, as,
with her arm about the poor mother--who was half fainting--she turned
and looked at the joyous rabble.
"What is it?" she cried, and at the same instant Yossof hurried up, and
spoke breathlessly to her.
She listened to his message with parted lips, her eyes starry with the
light of ecstatic joy.
"What is it?" I asked in my turn, for I couldn't catch what Yossof said.
"It's true,--it's true; oh, thank God for all His mercies! The end is in
sight, Maurice; the new era is beginning--has begun. The Tzar has
yielded; he has issued the manifesto, granting all demands--"
I stood staring at her, stricken dumb, not by the news she told, but by
her unearthly beauty. The face that was so worn with all the toil and
conflict and anxiety of these strenuous days and weeks was transfigured;
and above it her red-gold hair shone like a crown of glory.
I know what was in her mind at that moment,--the thought that all had
not been in vain, that the long struggle was almost ended, victory in
sight; with freedom for the oppressed, cessation of bloodshed, a gradual
return to law and order, the patient building up of a new civilization.
Had I not heard her and Loris speak in that strain many times, the last
only a few hours back, when the reassuring rumors began to strengthen?
"They were dreamers, dreaming greatly!"
For a few seconds only did I stand gazing at her, for the mob was upon
us. It jostled us apart, swept us along with it, and, as I fought my way
to rejoin her--she and Natalya still supported the woman whose little
son had just been killed--a quick revulsion of feeling came over me, and
with it a queer premonition of imminent evil.
The mob was so horrible; made up for the most part of the scum of
Warsaw, reeking with vodka, drunk with liquor and excitement.
Pah! They were not fit for the freedom they clamored for, and yet it was
for them and for others like them, that she toiled and plotted in peril
of her life!
Before I could win to her side, a warning cry arose ahead, followed
instantly by the crackle of rifle fire, the _phut_ of revolver shots,
yells, shrieks, an infernal din. A squadron of Cossacks was charging the
crowd from the front, and as it surged back, the same hellish sounds
broke from the rear. More soldiers were following, the mob was between
two fires,--trapped.
Gasping, bleeding, I struggled against the rush, striving to make my way
back to where I could see the gleam of Anne's golden hair, close against
the wall. I guessed that, with her usual resource, she had drawn her
companions aside when the turmoil began, and they had their backs to the
wall of one of the houses.
The soldiers were right among the mob now, and it was breaking into
groups, each eddying round one or more of the horsemen, who had as much
as they could do to hold their own with whip and sabre. It was
impossible to reload the rifles, and anyhow they would not have been
much use at these close quarters. I saw more than one horse overborne,
his rider dragged from the saddle and hideously done to death. The
rabble were like mad wolves rather than human beings.
A fresh volley from the front,--more troops were coming up there,--yells
of triumph from the rear, where the soldiers had been beaten back and a
way of retreat opened up. The furious eddies merged into a solid mass
once more, a terror stricken _sauve qui peut_ before the reinforcements.
Impossible to make headway against this; and yet every instant I was
being swept along, further from Anne. All I could do was to set my teeth
and edge towards the sidewalk. I got to the wall at last, set my back to
it, and let the rout pour by, the Cossacks in full chase now, felling
every straggler they overtook, even slashing at the dead and wounded as
they rode over them.
I started to run back, and the wild horsemen did not molest me. I still
wore the uniform in which I had left Zostrov; it was in tatters after
this frenzied half-hour, but it stood me in good stead once again, and
prevented my being shot down.
There was Anne, still alive, thank God; she was kneeling beside the
woman; and Natalya, also unhurt, stood by her, trying to raise her, and
seemingly urging her to seek shelter.
I tried to shout, but my mouth was too dry, so I ran on, stumbling over
the bodies that strewed the ground.
Some of the Cossacks had turned and were riding back; a group passed me
as I neared Anne, and one of them swung his rifle up and fired. Natalya
fell with a scream, and Anne sprang up.
"Shame, shame, you cowards, to shoot defenceless women!" she cried
indignantly.
He spurred towards her, but I was first. I flung myself before her and
fired at him. He reeled, swerved, and galloped on, but his companions
were round us. I fired again, and yet again; something flashed above me;
I felt a stunning blow on my forehead, staggered back, and fell.
The last thing I heard was a woman's shriek.