Volume One – Chapter Fourteen
The young Pole, Thaddeus Stanisloff, had been appointed to a regiment, destined to proceed with many others to join the army in the Caucasus, now quartered in Moscow on its way to the south. On the same day, that Ivan had been driven from the château of the Baron Galetzoff, he left his home to join his regiment; taking a farewell, which he felt might too probably be the last, of his broken-hearted father, now rapidly drawing towards his end, worn out by grief and sickness. He received also the warm and cordial adieus of his generous and high-minded host.
Thaddeus, naturally light-hearted and gay, by the time he reached Moscow, had forgotten the sorrow of parting, and was looking forward to the pleasure of again meeting his friend Ivan, as, soon after dusk, he rode through the streets towards the hotel where he expected to find him; but was disappointed on hearing that he had already gone out. He immediately set forth on foot by himself, in hopes of finding him at some of their usual places of resort, when, soon after leaving the hotel, the light of a torch falling strongly on his features, a small and feminine figure, who was about to pass on, stopped to look attentively at his face, and then addressed him in a timid and agitated manner. As she looked up to speak, the veil which had before concealed her face dropt on one side, and discovered the features of the Gipsy girl Azila.
“I meet you most fortunately,” she said, “for you may be able to give assistance, where it will be much required. Are you ready to meet a great danger to assist a friend?”
“I should be unworthy to be called a friend, by any whom I should hesitate to aid, whatever the risk to myself,” answered Thaddeus. “But of whom do you speak?”
“Of your friend, Ivan Galetzoff! I have this moment been to his hotel, in the hope of warning him of an impending danger, with which I have but just become acquainted. I could not trust any other with such a communication to him; he has already gone out, and although I am too late to prevent him from encountering danger, I may yet be able to rescue him with your assistance.”
“That, I will gladly give at every risk,” answered Thaddeus. “But how am I to find him? Where is he, that I may hasten to his aid?”
“That, I may not tell you,” answered Azila; “but trust wholly in me, and I will place you where you may be ready to lend your assistance, if required.”
“I will trust entirely to your guidance,” said Thaddeus.
“I knew that you were too noble to hesitate,” rejoined Azila, in a deep tone of gratitude. “Let us then waste no more time here.”
“Lead the way, fair lady, and I will follow,” said Thaddeus.
“Have you your weapons?” she asked, “for they may be needed.”
“Yes, I carry my sword under my cloak.”
“That is well,” said Azila; “and now, Sir, follow me closely, and promptly, or we may be too late.”
Azila, looking back for an instant, to see that Thaddeus followed, then advanced at so rapid a pace, threading her way through the intricate streets, that he could scarcely keep up without running. She crossed the river by one of the bridges, and passed through several desolate streets, where many of the houses had not yet been raised from their ashes, hurrying on, till she arrived beneath the dark shadow of a broad archway, and then paused.
Here she spoke to her companion, in a low earnest whisper: “I cannot lead you further, but you must consent to remain here patiently, till your assistance be called for, or until I return; as I now must hasten to summon one of my tribe, who are in the neighbourhood, to aid in your friend’s escape. Wrap yourself closely in your cloak, and remain concealed within this arch; keep your sword drawn for a sudden rescue, for I have reason to suppose that your friend will be set upon by assassins, as he passes near this spot. At all events, be cautious and on the alert.”
Gliding away noiselessly from the spot, she then left Thaddeus, who forthwith retired into the darkest corner, effectually concealed from any passer by, beneath the buttresses of the arch. He did not exactly comprehend by what means his friend had exposed himself to the danger, but it was sufficient for him to know that his aid was required, no matter at what risk to himself; and he determined to abide the result, whatever it might be.
He was doomed to keep a long watch; straining his eyes in endeavouring to pierce through the gloom, and intently listening, to catch the sound of any approaching footstep; when suddenly he heard the sound of voices in muttered conference, apparently approaching the spot where he stood concealed.
The arch, in which Azila had placed Thaddeus, was not the same in which Groff had concealed himself, ere he perpetrated the murder of the young Count Flatoff, but at a short distance from it. The former would not have answered the assassin’s purpose, being too far removed from the lane Ivan usually passed by. This will account for Thaddeus now remaining undisturbed in his concealment.
“Halt here, Kruntz,” said one voice; “this is the spot, I know it well, where I have seen this cursed youth pass so often, and I recommended our noble master to wait here for him. Something has enraged the Count more than ever against him, and he vows that he will not be content, until he has passed his own sword through him. He’ll make sure of him, I warrant.”
“More sure work than you did the other night, Groff,” said Kruntz.
“What mean you?” replied Groff; “what work do you speak of?”
“What mean I! why the murder of Count Flatoff! Tush, tush! comrade, think not to hide that from me, or fear that I would betray you. I suspected that you had been about some dirty work, when you came in, and I was not long in discovering the truth.”
“If you know it, what’s the use of speaking about it,” hoarsely muttered Groff. “I’ll not make a mistake again, trust me. We will have our revenge this time, and gain a reward. A pretty work the youth has given us, what with watching and hunting him about so long.”
“We ought to know each other by this time, Groff, and need keep no little secrets of this sort from one another: so, no fear of my betraying you. But say, how did you manage to find out that young Galetzoff is likely to pass this way?”
“Why, the Count set me to watch all his haunts; and several times I followed him in this direction, when I suddenly lost sight of him among the garden walls; but after waiting here, I found that he again passed by, and each night he has done the same. I felt certain that it was he, when I made the mistake the other night; but I will not fail a second time, trust me; and I know that he will come, for I am sure it was he, we saw pass at dusk. Ah! what is that object on the ground, Kruntz? see, it moves! It is too horrid to look at!” cried Groff, in a hollow, husky voice. “I see its mangled features. Do you believe in ghosts, Kruntz?”
“Ghosts – no!” answered Kruntz, jeeringly; “I never saw one yet. Why, what’s the matter, man? you are not wont to tremble. Rouse yourself, Groff: be a man. Why, what is there to care for, if you did put a wrong man out of the way; you are not the first who has done so.”
“It is well for you to laugh, Kruntz, who have no feelings; but if you had seen the horrible sight that appeared to me just now, you would have trembled.”
“Nonsense, man,” said his companion, “it was all your fancy; and now get rid of such ideas, for here comes some one. Be prepared!”
Thaddeus heard nearly every word of this conversation; and becoming much alarmed for the safety of his friend, stood ready to rush out to his assistance, for he fancied that through the gloom he saw him approaching.
As the footsteps drew near, the voice of the Count Erintoff was heard: “Hist, hist! what, knaves, are you there? Kruntz, Groff, answer!”
The men who had been concealed by the arch, stepped forward as they heard their master’s voice.
“Has the person I told you to watch for appeared, or have you again let him escape you, villains?”
“No, Count,” answered Kruntz: “no fear of that. I owe him a broken head, and I don’t forget my debts. I should like to catch his friend, the other young fellow; I would pay him off all old scores.”
“Hush, knaves!” said the Count. “Listen, some one approaches: be prepared to rush out. It is he!”
A footstep was heard. Thaddeus grasped his sword more firmly – his heart beat high, as he stood ready to spring from his hiding-place. The person had reached the spot. It was Ivan; for the Count and his servants sprung out upon him, and attacked him furiously.
“Yield; you are my prisoner!” exclaimed the Count, making a pass with his sword at Ivan’s breast, though, fortunately, not so rapidly but that he had time to spring aside, and draw his own weapon, with which he had provided himself since Azila’s warning; this enabled him to parry a second thrust made at him.
“Rescue! Ivan! here’s rescue, my friend!” cried Thaddeus, darting forward, most unexpectedly, and beating down the swords of the two servants, who attempted to oppose him. “What means this assassin-like attack?”
He was met by Groff and Kruntz, who had recovered from their surprise in a moment, and now turned upon him with their whole united strength, while their master pressed Ivan hard.
“Yield!” again exclaimed the Count, “you are a traitor to Russia, and have joined in a dark conspiracy against her laws.”
These words urged Ivan to defend himself with greater determination; and returning the Count’s attack with the utmost vigour, the latter would have fallen a victim to his own nefarious plot, had he not called Kruntz to his aid.
Left to engage Thaddeus single-handed, Groff now attacked him with such blind fury, that he left his own person exposed; while his opponent, anxious to lend his aid to Ivan, who was now so unequally beset, did his utmost to disarm him. Failing in this attempt, he made a lunge to terminate the contest, and his sword passed through the body of his adversary, who fell, with scarcely a groan, to the earth. In the meantime, Ivan had defended himself successfully from his determined assailants; but just as his friend turned to his aid, his foot slipped, and the Count observing the movement, passed his sword through his side. Thaddeus soon succeeded in disarming Kruntz, whirling his sword, by superior fence, out of his hand, and over the adjoining wall, when the ruffian, instead of assisting his master, turned and fled. Before the latter had time to follow up his advantage, by a second and more effectual wound on Ivan, he was vigorously assailed by Thaddeus, who, pressing him back to relieve his friend, disarmed him likewise; but, retreating behind a projecting buttress, the Count baffled his pursuing adversary, and being well acquainted with the different intricate windings, he succeeded in effecting his escape.
Retracing his steps, Thaddeus rejoined his friend, at the moment when the latter, returning to consciousness from the effects of his hurt, attempted to raise himself from the earth. Bending down by his side, he proceeded to bind up his wound, and as Ivan recognised him, he exclaimed:
“Fly, Thaddeus, fly! for treachery and danger surround us: there is not a moment for explanations; but I beseech you to fly instantly, or you will be involved in my ruin.”
“Never could I leave you thus,” replied Thaddeus. “Lean on me for support, and perhaps we may yet have time to escape.”
“Thanks for your generous aid,” said Ivan; “but I fear escape is impossible; I feel too much hurt to walk, and you would inevitably be overtaken: for be assured, that the Count has but retreated to call the police, without whose aid he first trusted to satiate his revenge. I know too well, by the words he uttered, that I am completely in his power, through secret information he has gained.”
At that moment, a light footstep was heard approaching, and a female form appeared, whom Thaddeus recognised as Azila.
A cry escaped her as she beheld Ivan hurt and on the ground; when, throwing herself beside him, she assisted Thaddeus in supporting his wounded friend.
“Alas!” she cried, “unhappy I am that I should have arrived too late to prevent this calamity; but I have friends on their way who may still be of service.”
“Thanks, fair girl,” said Ivan, raising himself with their assistance, “I will exert myself; but first, persuade my friend to save himself by flight, for his stay here can but subject him to great peril, without affording me further aid.”
“He speaks but too truly,” said Azila, turning to Thaddeus. “It were, indeed, madness to remain, and so offer another sacrifice to the Count’s revenge; for believe me, your friend has been betrayed by that dastard, Count Erintoff, and has incurred the rigour of the most tyrannical laws. Fly, therefore, while you have time, before the police are upon us, when your uniform alone would betray you; fear not for your friend, his safety will be cared for.”
Thaddeus still refused to desert his friend, in spite of the latter’s persuasions; when, as she spoke, lights were seen to glimmer in the distance.
“Fly, fly, Thaddeus! my dear friend!” cried Ivan: “see, the police are approaching, and you will but involve yourself in my misfortunes. And you, lady, leave me to my fate; your safety is also perilled if you are discovered.”
“I will not quit you, Sir; I have nothing to fear,” answered Azila. “Ah!” she exclaimed, “the Great Spirit is merciful!” as, at that moment, two dark forms emerged from the opposite direction to that in which the lights had appeared, and towards which she had constantly been directing an inquiring glance. “These are my friends, and may yet be in time to save you.”
Two men then approached, to whom she spoke in her own language, and instantly they raised Ivan gently from the ground, and bore him rapidly in the direction whence they had come.
Azila led the way in silence. Thaddeus followed, and he was happy to find that their distance, from the lights carried by the police, evidently increased.
The fugitives continued their way for some time, along the dark and narrow lanes, amid the ruined buildings we have already described, and with which Azila seemed perfectly acquainted; never for a moment hesitating which path to take, among the numerous turnings. They at length paused in front of a huge pile of buildings equally dilapidated, looming still larger and darker in the gloom through which they were seen. Their guide passing beneath a low covered way, followed by the rest of the party, struck a sharp blow on a small door, scarcely distinguishable from the masonry which surrounded it. It was opened without a moment’s delay; the party entered, and after descending a few steps, Thaddeus found himself in a small vaulted chamber.
The door was carefully closed behind them, and a decrepit old man made his appearance, bearing a lamp in his hand, with which he scrutinised each individual on entering. The two athletic gipsies now placed their wounded burthen on a low pallet which stood at one end of the vault, when Azila thus addressed the old man:
“Father! I am come to entreat your succour for one in distress, who has escaped from the police now in full search of him. While here, he would, you know, be in safety.”
“Daughter,” answered the old man, “I would refuse you nothing. I will do my utmost for the youth’s safety; but who is this other? An officer too! what does he here?”
“He is a friend of the Wounded man, and would not quit him, though at great danger to himself,” answered Azila. “Ere the morn dawns, he must be from hence. But now that you have granted us your hospitality, father, we must attend to your wounded guest.”
It was indeed time, as from the exertion Ivan had undergone, his wound bled afresh; the old man, however, produced salves and linen to apply to it; but his hands trembled with the feebleness of age as he performed the operation, assisted by Thaddeus.
“Ay, ay, I have bound up many wounds in my day, and thought to have long ago departed for that place where there will be none to cure. God’s will be done!”
Ivan had just strength to express his thanks, and fell back exhausted. In the mean time, Azila had dispatched the two men to watch the direction taken by the police, and to bring back word, as soon as it would be safe for Thaddeus to venture on his return to the city. She then took her seat by the side of Ivan’s humble couch, watching each movement of his pallid face, while Thaddeus was seated opposite, and their old host busied himself in producing various articles of refreshment, including a flask of wine; a small quantity of which considerably revived Ivan. The old man kept moving about, and muttering to himself, but bestowing few words on the strangers.
After a considerable time, the scouts came back to report that the road was clear; the police having returned to their posts in despair that their prey had escaped.
“It is now time for you to depart, Sir,” said Azila, addressing Thaddeus, “for longer delay here would be hazardous, while your friend, trust me, will be carefully attended to. One of these men will be your guide, till you reach a part of the city known to you.”
As at these words Thaddeus rose to depart, Ivan exclaimed:
“Adieu, my generous friend! I know not when we may next meet, for all around me looks dark, and lowering; but something within tells me, that I shall yet surmount all difficulties. Our courses, I fear, however, must be widely different; yours is clear before you, though I sincerely wish that you would follow mine. You shake your head. Well, well, I cannot now urge you to do as I wish; but I will take care to apprise you of my movements, and perchance we may some day again meet in happier circumstances.”
After expressing his thanks to Azila, Thaddeus followed one of the Gipsies, who conducted him at a rapid place, till they arrived at a part of the city with which he was familiar; when the man pointing to the direction he was to take, disappeared without waiting for an answer; and the young Pole soon after reached his lodgings in safety.
Volume One – Chapter Fifteen
A gentle and refreshing slumber stole over Ivan’s senses, banishing from his mind all remembrance of the cares and dangers surrounding him, as he lay on his couch, watched over by the vigilant care of Azila.
He had been undisturbed in his place of refuge for several hours, when he suddenly started in his sleep, aroused by a singular and hurried knocking at the door. Azila hastened towards it, as the old man, slowly rising from his seat, had begun, with muttered grumblings, to undo the fastenings.
“In mercy, father, let him not in,” said Azila, “whoever it may be! He may bring ruin on your guest. Oh! bid him seek shelter, or whatever he may want, elsewhere.”
“Ay, that I would, with a pestilence on mankind, who are for ever worrying me,” muttered the old man; “but my oath – my oath compels me. I may refuse admittance to none who make the sign.”
Again the knocking was repeated, as the old man, having finished his task of unbarring, opened the door, and a man pale as death, his dress torn and disordered, sword in hand, rushed into the vault.
“Hide me – hide me, father!” he exclaimed. “All is lost; many are taken, some slain, and all dispersed; and even now the police are in pursuit of me.”
The old man peered into the face of the new comer to identify him, and as if to ask for an explanation of what had happened; while the stranger, on his part, looked with surprise at seeing Azila and Ivan already occupants of the vault. He was, however, recognised as one of the conspirators, as he threw himself exhausted on a stone bench.
“What means this agitation?” said Ivan, as the person recognised him; “what means this alarm? for I scarcely heard the words you spoke as you entered.”
“Alas!” answered the conspirator, “our noble enterprise has been discovered before all was fully prepared, and is now utterly and for ever overthrown. No sooner had the meeting broke up, than, as we were separating, we found the police gathering in strong force round all the entrances to the garden. No time was to be lost, many of our friends had already been seized, when I, with others, made a desperate rush through one of the avenues, less strongly guarded than the others; some of us escaping, favoured by the darkness, and our knowledge of the situation; and fear giving swiftness to my feet, I distanced all pursuers, and hastened hither. Yet, at one time, I heard my enemies following close behind me; but they lost sight of me among the lanes which lead to this spot. Had the assembly broken up sooner, we should have escaped for this night, as the police had but just begun to arrive at the place, to which some of the party must have been traced by spies, or some foul treachery has been at work. I had a narrow escape; but I had no fear when once I got outside, for I knew that you, father, would shelter me.”
“Ay, ay,” muttered the old man, “at the risk of suffering the knout again, and being sent back in chains to Siberia, if they discovered who I was. I have had enough of that already; but fear not, I will not betray you, and it will be long before the knaves find out my den; or should the worst happen, here is a place they would find it difficult to discover: – therefore, should the police come here, you must conceal yourself within.”
At those words, he removed what appeared a large ill-shapen slab, or rather block of stone, in the wall, but which turned on well-made hinges, and disclosed within, a recess or small chamber ventilated by an aperture in the roof. It had evidently been formed with great labour and perseverance for the purpose it was now to be put to, and was capable of containing three or more persons without inconvenience.
“If the police discover us here, your wounded friend must also take refuge within this place; and they will have more wit than I give them credit for, if they espy him. Hark! I hear footsteps; surely none can have betrayed me. If so, all is lost.”
Scarcely were the words uttered, than a thundering attack of blows was heard at the door, and a voice loudly demanding admittance in the name of the Emperor. The conspirator turned pale with terror, and rushed towards the entrance of the concealed chamber.
“Stay,” said Azila, “would you leave your wounded comrade to perish, while you secure your own retreat? First place him in safety, and all will be well; fear not, for I will soon manage to get rid of our unwelcome visitors.”
Ivan thanked her with a look of gratitude, as the conspirator, following her directions, with the feeble aid of the old man, lifted him through the narrow aperture, and laid him on some straw hastily thrown together; when Azila, carefully closing the entrance, prepared to receive the emissaries of justice. She threw a cloak over her head and shoulders, so as completely to cover her form and features, busying herself over the fire, as if watching some culinary operation, while the old man employed himself in slowing unbarring the door, muttering and growling as if just aroused from sleep.
A second and more impatient summons made him hasten to withdraw the bolts, when the door flew open, almost knocking him down, and a party of the police rushed into the vault, but started back confounded, on beholding who were its sole occupants.
Azila’s watchful eye marked the servant of Count Erintoff – the ruffian Kruntz, among the party.
“Well, I could have sworn,” said the man; “that I saw some person enter here not a quarter of an hour ago; and I know that he could not have again escaped without my seeing him.”
“This is strange,” said the leader of the police, “we must question the old man, if he has sense enough to understand us. Here, old man! has any one lately left this mansion of yours?”
“Few come to visit one overcome with age and infirmities, who dwells in a dark vault where the light of day scarcely enters,” said the hermit; “no, no! they leave me alone to die in peace and quiet, it is all I require. What is it that you desire of me, gentlemen? can I do aught to serve you? I have, indeed, little to offer!”
“Cease your prating, old man!” said the officer, “and listen to what I say. A foul plot has just been discovered, and some of the conspirators have taken refuge in this neighbourhood. Now harken! I am not to be trifled with: you, old man, know somewhat of them.”
“Woe is the day, that such things should be!” cried the old man. “Look around – see! none are here; there must be some mistake.”
“We shall prove it,” exclaimed the police officer, who, exasperated at the chance of his prey escaping him, produced a thick leathern thong, with which he struck the aged hermit a violent blow across the shoulders; “this will refresh your wits and ideas perchance. Say! can’st thou now remember, old knave; or must another blow yet revive you?”
“I cannot speak more than the truth,” said the old man, meekly, and bowing before the petty tyrant, too well accustomed to such deeds. “Your stripes can draw no more than the truth from me, I know not of whom you speak.”
“Is it so!” cried the officer, now growing furious at his disappointment, and having strong suspicions that he had, in some way, been deceived. “We shall see what efficacy there is in leather to draw the truth from you,” aiming at the same time several more blows at the old man, which made him shrink down cowering before the barbarian, though he uttered no words of complaint, nor could the slightest information be elicited from him.
Since the entrance of the myrmidons of police, Azila had kept her seat apparently unnoticed, bending down her head before the fire, her cloak concealing her features so effectually that none could know them; at the same time keeping a watchful eye on those whose presence caused such risk to Ivan’s safety; hoping that a woman’s wit, in case of necessity, would lead them astray. She now, however, could no longer contain her indignation at the cowardly assault by the police officer on the defenceless and decrepit old man, for, suddenly rising from her seat, she boldly confronted the tyrant.
Drawing herself up to her full height, and assuming a look of proud disdain, she thus addressed the brutal ruffian:
“Dastardly tyrant, can you not find some nobler object to vent your unjust rage upon, and to display your power, than yonder decrepit old man? Perchance you may deem a weak and helpless woman a fitter subject for the exercise of your proud prerogative, if so – strike! fear not! I can bear as much as that infirm old man – perchance more. What! are you afraid? Then order some of your myrmidons to begin the attack; do they also lack courage? Oh! most brave and noble band to fear an old man, and young woman! Go your way then, if you have no better errand – or search here first, for what you want!”
The rough natures of the men were awed by the majestic air, and authoritative manner of Azila, for they drew back to the entrance of the cavern; while their leader foamed with rage at finding himself baffled by a young girl; but he meditated revenge.
Azila had shewn much tact in drawing off the officer’s anger from the old man to herself, and then working him into a fury, and increasing it so as to confuse his faculties, and prevent him from making a stricter search, when the retreat of the two conspirators might by chance have been discovered. Her plan had well nigh succeeded, and the officer was preparing to depart, when something seemed to strike him as left undone, and turning to the old man, he seized him roughly by the shoulder demanding his name; the latter hesitating to give this at once, brought upon himself a fresh shower of blows.
“Stay – stay your hand!” cried he, “do you demand my name? alas! my memory is so bad that I can scarcely remember it; but I am called Orenoff, and I live here on the charity which a few people, whose hearts are not yet turned to stone, bestow on me. My heart has undergone a like fate, else I could not bear your treatment.”
While the old man was babbling away in this strain, the officer made notes on paper, and presently turning to Azila, said:
“Now, Madam, you must give me some account of yourself, or else prepare to follow me. What do you here?”
“I answer your questions,” replied Azila, “because forsooth, it pleases me to do so. I came then to attend yonder weak, sick old man, and to bring him food and medicine, for he has none other to attend him.”
“Whence do you come, then?” demanded the officer.
“From a noble and charitable lady,” said Azila; “and perchance it may occur to your wisdom, that it was my cloak, which was seen entering the vault, and which your spies took for one of the conspirators!”
“If you can give no better account of yourself than this, you must accompany me forthwith,” said the officer.
“But, should it not be my pleasure to leave, you may experience some difficulty in compelling me,” replied Azila.
The officer smiled grimly, and was stepping forward to seize her slight figure, which could indeed have offered but a slight resistance to his grasp, when she exclaimed:
“Stand aside, and touch me at your peril!” producing at the same time a paper from her bosom. “Know you that signature?” she said. “Go your way, and leave this old man to rest, who is too ill and infirm to move hence, and learn in future to exercise your bravery on objects capable of self-defence.”
The police officer, with an abashed and scowling look, now prepared to depart; still however shewing some hesitation, as if doubtful of acting wisely; but a significant wave of Azila’s hand, decided him to order his men to withdraw, when they, glad to escape, soon made their exit through the narrow doorway of the vault, followed by their leader.
As their footsteps were heard receding, the old man hastened to close the door, but was checked by Azila.
“No, father,” she said, “let them not suppose that we have aught to conceal, by manifesting haste to shut them out, or they may perhaps return and renew their search, although I think their brutal leader would rather not attempt it.” Some minutes accordingly elapsed, ere the door was again closed and barred.