CHAPTER I.
A GREAT CHANGE.
Half a dozen boys were gathered in one of the studies at Shrewsbury. Apacked portmanteau and the general state of litter on the floor wassufficient to show that it was the last day of term.
"Well, I am awfully sorry you are going, Bullen; we shall all miss you.You would certainly have been in the football team next term; it is anuisance altogether."
"It is a nuisance; and I am beastly sorry I am leaving. Of course I haveknown for some time that I should be going out to Russia; but I did notthink the governor would have sent me until after I had gone through theschool. His letter a fortnight ago was a regular stumper. I thought Ishould have had another year and a half or two years, and, of course,that is just the jolliest part of school life. However, it cannot behelped."
"You talk the language, don't you, Bullen?"
"Well, I used to talk it, but I don't remember much about it now. Yousee I have been home six years. I expect I shall pick it up again fastenough. I should not mind it so much if the governor were out therestill; but you see he came home for good two years ago. Still it won'tbe like going to a strange place altogether; and as he has been livingthere so long, I shall soon get to know lots of the English there. StillI do wish I could have had a couple of years more at Shrewsbury. Ishould have been content to have gone out then."
"Well, it is time for us to be starting. I can hear the omnibus."
In a few minutes the omnibus was filled with luggage inside and out; thelads started to walk to the station. As the train drew up there werehearty good-byes, and then the train steamed out of the station, thecompartment in which Godfrey Bullen had taken his seat being filled withboys going, like himself, straight through to town. All were in highspirits, and Bullen, who had felt sorry at leaving school for the lasttime, was soon as merry as any of them.
"You must mind what you are up to, Bullen," one of his companions said."They are terrible fellows those Nihilists, they say."
"They won't hurt Bullen," another put in, "unless he goes into thesecret police. I should say he would make a good sort of secretpoliceman."
"No, no; he is more likely to turn a Nihilist."
"Bosh!" Bullen said, laughing. "I am not likely to turn a secretpoliceman; but I am more likely to do that than to turn Nihilist. I haterevolutionists and assassins, and all those sort of fellows."
"Yes, we all know that you are a Tory, Bullen; but people change, youknow. I hope we shall never see among the lists of Nihilists tried forsedition and conspiracy, and sentenced to execution, the name of oneGodfrey Bullen."
"Oh, they wouldn't execute Bullen!" another said; "they would send himto Siberia. Bullen's always good at fighting an uphill game, and hewould show off to great advantage in a chain-gang. Do they crop theirhair there, Bullen, and put on a gray suit, as I saw them at work inPortsmouth dockyard last year?"
"I am more likely to see you working in a chain-gang at Portsmouth,Wilkinson, when I come back, than I am to form part of a convict gang inSiberia--at any rate for being a Nihilist. I won't say about otherthings, for I suppose there is no saying what a fellow may come to. Idon't suppose any of the men who get penal servitude for forgery, andswindling, and so on, ever have any idea, when they are sixteen, thatthat is what they are coming to. At present I don't feel any inclinationthat way."
"I should say you were not likely to turn forger anyhow, Bullen,whatever you take to."
"Why is that, Parker?"
"Because you write such a thundering bad hand that you would never beable to imitate anyone else's signature, unless he couldn't go fartherthan making a cross for his name, and the betting is about even that youwould blot that."
There was a roar of laughter, for Bullen's handwriting was a perpetualsource of trouble to him, and he was continually losing marks for hisexercises in consequence. He joined heartily in the laugh.
"It is an awful nuisance that handwriting of mine," he said, "especiallywhen one is going to be a merchant, you know. The governor has talkedtwo or three times about my going to one of those fellows who teach youto write copperplate in twenty lessons. I shouldn't be surprised if hedoes let me have a course these holidays. I should not mind if he does,for my writing is disgusting."
"Never mind, Bullen; bad handwriting is a sign of genius, you know. Youhave never shown any particular genius yet, except for rowing andboxing, and I suppose that is muscular genius; but you may blossom outin a new line some day."
"I don't want to disturb the harmony of this last meeting, Parker, or Ishould bring my muscular genius into play at your expense."
"No, no, Bullen," another boy said, "you keep that for Russia. FancyBullen polishing off a gigantic Cossack, or defending the Czar's lifeagainst half a dozen infuriated Nihilists. That would be the thing,Bullen. It would be better than trade any day. Why, you would get anestate as big as an English county, with ten thousand serfs, and sacksupon sacks of roubles."
"What bosh you fellows talk!" Bullen laughed. "There is one thing I doexpect I shall learn in Russia, and that is to skate. Fancy six monthsof regular skating, instead of a miserable three or four days. I shallmeet some of you fellows some day at the Round Pond, and there you willbe just working away at the outside edge, and I shall be joining inthose skating-club figures and flying round and round like a bird."
"What birds fly round and round, Bullen?"
"Lots of them do, as you would know, Jordan, if you kept your eyes open,instead of being always on the edge of going to sleep. Swallows do, andeagles. Never mind, you fellows will turn yellow with jealousy when yousee me."
And so they laughed and joked until they reached London. Then there wasanother hearty good-bye all round, and in a couple of minutes they werespeeding in hansoms to their various destinations. Godfrey Bullen's wasEccleston Square. His father was now senior partner in a firm thatcarried on a considerable business with the east of Europe. He had, whenjunior partner, resided at St. Petersburg, as the firm had at that timelarge dealings in the Baltic. From various causes this trade had fallenoff a good deal, and the firm had dealt more largely with Odessa and thesouthern ports. Consequently, when at the death of the senior partnerMr. Bullen returned to England to take up the principal management ofthe affairs of the firm, it was not deemed advisable to continue thebranch at St. Petersburg, and Ivan Petrovytch, a Russian trader of goodstanding, had been appointed their agent there.
The arrangement had not worked quite satisfactorily. Petrovytch was anexcellent agent as far as he went. The business he did was sound, and hewas careful and conscientious; but he lacked push and energy, had noinitiative, and would do nothing on his own responsibility. Mr. Bullenhad all along intended that Godfrey should, on leaving school, go for afew years to Russia, and should, in time, occupy the same position therethat he himself had done; but he had now determined that this shouldtake place earlier than he had before intended. He thought that Godfreywould now more speedily pick up the language again, than if he remainedanother two or three years in England, and that in five or six years'time he might be able to represent the firm there, either in conjunctionwith Ivan Petrovytch or by himself. Therefore, ten days before thebreaking-up of the school for the long holidays, he had written toGodfrey, telling him that he should take him away at the end of theterm, and that in two or three months' time he would go out to St.Petersburg.
Mr. Bullen's family consisted of two girls in addition to Godfrey.Hilda, the elder, was seventeen, a year older than the lad, while Ellawas two years his junior.
"Well, Godfrey," his father said, as, after the first greeting, they satdown to dinner, which had been kept back for half an hour for hisarrival, "you did not seem very enthusiastic in your reply to myletter."
"I did not feel very enthusiastic, father," Godfrey replied. "Of courseone's two last years at school are just the jolly time, and I was reallyvery sorry to leave. Still, of course you know what is best for me; andI dare say I shall get on very well at St. Petersburg."
"I have no
doubt of that, Godfrey. I have arranged for you to live withMr. Petrovytch, as you will regain the language much more quickly in aRussian family than you would in an English one; besides, it will behandy for your work. In Russia merchants' offices are generally in theirhouses, and it is so with him; but, of course, you will know most ofthe English families. I shall write to several of my old friends, and Iam sure they will do all they can for you; but I shall write more to myRussian acquaintances than to my English. The last are sure to call uponyou when they hear you have come out; but it is not so easy to get afooting in Russian families, and you might be some time before you makeacquaintances that way. Besides, it is much better for you to beprincipally in the Russian set than in the English, in the first place,because of the language; and in the second, because you will get a muchbetter acquaintance with the country in general with them than among theEnglish.
"There are not many English lads of your own age out there--very fewindeed; and those nearest your age would be young clerks. I have nothingwhatever to say against young clerks; but, as a rule, they consorttogether, spend their evenings in each others' rooms or in playingbilliards, or otherwise amuse themselves, and so learn very little ofthe language and nothing of the people. It is unfortunate that it shouldbe so; but they are not altogether to blame, for, as I have said, theRussians, although friendly enough with Englishmen in business, in theclub, and so on, do not as a rule invite them to their houses; andtherefore the English, especially the class I am speaking of, are almostforced to associate entirely with each other and form a sort of colonyquite apart from native society. I was fortunate enough to make someacquaintances among them soon after I went out, and your mother and Iwere much more in Russian society than is usual with our countrymenthere. I found great advantage from it, and shall be glad for you to dothe same. You will have one very great advantage, that you will be ableto speak Russian fluently in a short time."
"I don't think I remember much about it now, father."
"I dare say not, Godfrey; that is to say, you know it, but you have losta good deal of the facility of speaking it. You have always got onfairly enough with it when we have spoken it occasionally during yourholidays since we have been in England, and in a very few weeks you willfind that it has completely come back to you. You spoke it as you didEnglish, indeed better, when you came over to school when you were ten,and in six years one does not forget a language. If you had been anotherfive or six years older, no doubt you would have lost it a good deal;but even then you would have learnt it very much more quickly than youwould have done had you never spoken it. Your mother and the girls havebeen grumbling at me a good deal for sending you away so soon."
"It is horrid, father," Hilda said. "We have always looked forward so toGodfrey's coming home; and of course it would be better still as he gotolder. We could have gone about everywhere with him; and we shall misshim especially when we go away in summer."
"Well, you must make the most of him this time then," her father said.
"Have you settled where we are going?" Godfrey asked.
"No, we would not settle until you came home, Godfrey," Mrs. Bullensaid. "As this was to be your last holiday we thought we would give youthe choice."
"Then I vote for some quiet sea-side place, mother. We went toSwitzerland last year, and as I am going abroad for ever so long I wouldrather stop at home now; and, besides, I would rather be quiet with youall, instead of always travelling about and going to places. Only, ofcourse if the girls would rather go abroad, I don't mind."
However, it was settled that it should be as Godfrey wished.
"But I do think, father," Godfrey said, "that it will be a good thing ifI had lessons in writing from one of those fellows who guarantee toteach you in a few lessons. I suppose that is all bosh; but if I gottheir system and worked at it, it might do me good. I really do writebadly."
The girls laughed.
"I don't think that quite describes it, Godfrey," his father said. "Ifanyone asked me about your accomplishments I should say that you knew agood deal of Latin and Greek, that you had a vague idea of English, andthat you could read, but unfortunately you were quite unable to write.According to my idea it is perfectly scandalous that at the greatschools such an essential as writing is altogether neglected, whileyears are spent over Greek, which is of no earthly use when you haveonce left school. I suppose the very worst writers in the world are menwho have been educated in public schools.
"Well, I am glad you have had the good sense to suggest it, Godfrey. Ihad thought of it myself, but I was afraid you would think it wasspoiling your last holidays at home. I will see about it to-morrow. Icannot get away very well for another fortnight. If you have a dozenlessons before we go, you can practise while we are away; and mind, fromto-day we will talk nothing but Russian when we are alone."
This had been indeed a common habit in the family since they had comehome two years before, as the two girls and Mr. and Mrs. Bullen spokeRussian as fluently as English, and Mr. Bullen thought it was just aswell that they should not let it drop altogether. Indeed on theirtravels in Switzerland they had several times come across Russians, andhad made pleasant acquaintances from their knowledge of that language.
The holidays passed pleasantly at Weymouth. Godfrey practised two hoursa day steadily at the system of handwriting: and although he was, at theend of the holidays, very far from attaining the perfection shown in theexamples produced by his teachers of the marvels they had effected inmany of their pupils, he did improve vastly, and wrote a fair currenthand instead of the almost undecipherable scrawl that had so puzzled andannoyed a succession of masters at Shrewsbury. After another month spentin London, getting his clothes and outfit, Godfrey started for St.Petersburg. On his last evening at home his father had a serious talkwith him.
"I have told Petrovytch," he said, "that you may possibly some day takeup the agency with him, but that nothing is decided as to that atpresent, and that it will all depend upon circumstances. However, in anycase, you will learn the ins and outs of the trade there; and if, at theend of a few years, you think that you would rather work by yourselfthan with him, I can send out a special clerk to work with you. On theother hand, it is possible that I may require you at home here. Venableshas no family, and is rather inclined to take it easy. Possibly in a fewyears he may retire altogether, and I may want you at home. At five orsix and twenty you should be able to undertake the management of theRussian part of the business, running out there occasionally to see thateverything goes on well. I hope I need not tell you to be steady. Thereis a good deal too much drinking goes on out there, arising, no doubt,from the fact that the young men have no family society there, andnothing particular to do when work is over.
"Stick to the business, lad. You will find Petrovytch himself athoroughly good fellow. Of course he has Russian ways and prejudices,but he is less narrow than most of his countrymen of that class. Aboveall things, don't express any opinion you may feel about publicaffairs--at any rate outside the walls of the house. The secret policeare everywhere, and a chance word might get you into a very seriousscrape. As you get on you will find a good deal that you do not like.Even in business there is no getting a government contract, or indeed acontract at all, without bribing right and left. It is disgusting, butbusiness cannot be done without it. The whole system is corrupt androtten, and you will find that every official has his price. However,you won't have anything to do with this for the present. If I were you Ishould work for an hour or two a day with a German master. There are agreat many Germans there, and you will find a knowledge of the languagevery useful to you. You see your Russian has pretty nearly come back toyou during the last two months, and you will very soon speak itperfectly; so you will have no trouble about that."
Godfrey found the long railway journey across the flat plains of Germanyvery dull, as he was unable to exchange a word with hisfellow-passengers; but as soon as he crossed the Russian frontier hefelt at home again, and enjoyed the run through the thickly-wo
odedcountry lying between Wilna and St. Petersburg. As he stepped out at thestation everything seemed to come back vividly to his memory. It waslate in October and the first snow had fallen, and round the stationwere a crowd of sledges drawn by rough little horses. Avoiding theimportunities of the drivers of the hotel vehicles he hailed anIsvostchik in furred cap and coat lined with sheepskin. His portmanteauswere corded at the back of the sledge; he jumped up into the seat behindthe driver, pulled the fur rug over his legs, and said, "Drive to theVassili Ostrov, 52, Ulitsa Nicolai." The driver gave a peculiar cry,cracked his whip half a dozen times, making a noise almost as loud asthe discharge of a pistol, and the horse went off at a sharp trot.
"I thought your excellency was a foreigner," the driver said, "but I seeyou are one of us."
"No, I am an Englishman, but I lived here till I was ten years old. Thesnow has begun earlier than usual, has it not?"
"It won't last," the Isvostchik said. "Sometimes we have a week at thistime of year, but it is not till December that it sets in in earnest. Wemay have droskies out again to-morrow instead of the sledges."
"The sledges are the pleasantest," Godfrey said.
"Yes, your excellency, for those that travel, but not for us. At nightwhen we are waiting we can get into the drosky and sleep, while it isterrible without shelter. There are many of us frozen to death everywinter."
Godfrey felt a sense of keen enjoyment as the sledge glided along. Therewere many rough bumps and sharp swings, for the snow was not deep enoughto cover thoroughly the roughness of the road below; but the air wasbrisk and the sun shone brightly, and he looked with pleasure at thepeople and costumes, which seemed, to his surprise, perfectly familiarto him. He was quite sorry when the journey came to an end at the houseof Ivan Petrovytch. The merchant, whose office was on the ground-floorand who occupied the floor above (the rest of the house being let off byfloors to other families), came out to greet him. "I am glad to see you,Godfrey Bullen," he said. "I should have sent to the station to meetyou, but your good father did not say whether you would arrive by themorning or evening train; and as my driver did not know you, he wouldhave missed you. I hope that all has gone well on the journey. Paul," hesaid to a man who had followed him out, "carry these trunks upstairs."
After paying the driver Godfrey followed his host to the floor above.Petrovytch was a portly man, with a pleasant but by no meansgood-looking face. "Wife," he said as he entered the sitting-room, "thisis Godfrey Bullen; I will leave him in your hands for the present, as Ihave some business that I must complete before we close."
"My name," Mrs. Petrovytch said, "is Catharine. You know in this countrywe always address each other by our names. The high-born may use titles,but simple people use the Christian name and the family name unless theyare very intimate, and then the Christian name only. I heard youspeaking to my husband as you came in, so that you have not forgottenour language. I should have thought that you would have done so. I canremember you as quite a little fellow before you went away."
"I have been speaking it for the last two months at home," Godfrey said,"and it has nearly come back to me."
"And your father and mother and your sisters, are they all well?"
"They are quite well, and my father and mother begged me to give theirkind regards to you."
At this moment the servant came in with the samovar, or tea-urn.
"It is four o'clock now; we dine at five o'clock, when the office isclosed. Many dine at one, but my husband likes it when he has done hiswork, as then he does not need to hurry."
After drinking a tumbler of tea and eating a flat-cake or two with it,Godfrey went to his room to have a wash after his long journey, and tounpack some of his things. He thought that he should like bothPetrovytch and his wife, but that the evenings would be dull if he hadto spend them in the house. Of this, however, he had but little fear,for he was sure that between his father's friends and the acquaintanceshe might himself make he should be out as much as he liked.
In the course of the next week Godfrey called at the houses of thevarious people to whom he had letters of introduction, and left themwith the hall porter. His host told him that he thought he had bettertake a fortnight to go about the capital and see the sights before hesettled down to work at the office; and as not only the gentlemen withwhom he had left letters of introduction and his card--for in Russiastrangers always call first--but many others of his father's friendscalled or invited him to their houses, he speedily made a large numberof acquaintances. At the end of the fortnight he took his place in theoffice. At first he was of very little use there; for although he couldtalk and understand Russian as spoken, he had entirely forgotten thewritten characters, and it took him some little time before he couldeither read the business correspondence or make entries in the officebooks. Ivan Petrovytch did his best to assist him, and in the course ofa month he began to master the mysteries of Russian writing.
At five o'clock the office closed. Godfrey very frequently dined out,but if he had no engagement he took his meal with the merchant and hiswife, and then sallied out and went either alone or with some of hisacquaintances to a Russian theatre. With December, winter set in inearnest. The waters were frozen, and skating began. The season at St.Petersburg commenced about the same time, and as Godfrey was often sentwith messages or letters to other business houses he had an opportunityof seeing the streets of St. Petersburg by day as well as by night. Hewas delighted with the scene on the Nevski Prospekt, the principalstreet of St. Petersburg. The footways were crowded with people: thewealthy in high boots, coats lined with sable, and caps to match; thepoorer in equally ample coats, but with linings of sheep, fox, or rabbitskins, with the national Russian cap of fur with velvet top, and withfur-lined hoods, which were often drawn up over the head.
The shops were excellent, reminding Godfrey rather of Paris than London.But the chief interest of the scene lay in the roadway. There werevehicles of every description, from the heavy sledge of the peasant,piled up with logs for fuel, or carrying, perhaps, the body of an elkshot in the woods, to the splendid turn-outs of the nobles with theirhandsome fur wraps, their coachmen in the national costume, and horsescovered with brown, blue, or violet nets almost touching the ground, toprevent the snow from being thrown up from the animals' hoofs into thefaces of those in the sledge. The harness was in most cases more or lessdecorated with bells, which gaily tinkled in the still air as thesledges dashed along. Most struck was Godfrey with the vehicles of thenobles who adhered to old Russian customs. The sledge was drawn by threehorses; the one in the centre was trained to trot, while the two outsidewent at a canter. The heads of the latter were bent half round, so thatthey looked towards the side, or even almost behind them as they went.An English acquaintance to whom Godfrey expressed his surprise thefirst time he saw one of these sledges replied, "Yes, that is the oldRussian pattern; and, curiously enough, if you look at Greek bas-reliefsand sculptures of the chariot of Phoebus, or at any otherrepresentations of chariots with three or four horses, you will see thatthe animals outside turn their heads in a similar manner."
"But it must be horribly uncomfortable for the horses to have theirheads turned round like that."
"It is the effect of training. They are always tied up to the stableswith their heads pulled in that way, until it becomes a second nature togo with them in that position."
"It is a very curious idea," Godfrey said, "but it certainly looks nice.What magnificent beards all the drivers in the good sledges have!"
"Yes, that again is an old Russian custom. A driver with a big beard isconsidered an absolute necessity for a well-appointed turn-out, and thelonger and fuller the beard the higher the wages a man will command andthe greater the pride of his employer."
"It seems silly," Godfrey said. "But there is no doubt those fellows dolook wonderfully imposing with their fur caps and their long bluecaftans and red sashes and those splendid beards. They remind me ofpictures of Neptune. Certainly I never saw such beards in England."
Besides these vehicles there were crowds of public sledges, driven bythe Isvostchiks, long rough country sledges laden perhaps with a dozenpeasant women returning from market, light well-got-up vehicles ofEnglish and other merchants, dashing turn-outs carrying an officer ortwo of high rank, and others filled with ladies half buried in richfurs. The air was tremulous with the music of countless bells, andbroken by the loud cracking of whips, with which the faster vehiclesheralded their approach. These whips had short handles, but very longheavy thongs; and Godfrey observed that, however loud he might crackthis weapon, it was very seldom indeed that a Russian driver everstruck one of his horses with it.
Sometimes when Ivan Petrovytch told him that there was little to be donein the office, and that he need not return for an hour or two, Godfreywould stroll into the Isaac or Kasan cathedrals, both splendidstructures, and wonder at the taste that marred their effect, by theprofusion of the gilding lavished everywhere. He was delighted by thesinging, which was unaccompanied by instruments, the bass voicespredominating, and which certainly struck him as being much finer thananything he had ever heard in an English cathedral. There was no lack ofamusement in the evening. Some of his English friends at once putGodfrey up as a member of the Skating Club. This club possessed a largegarden well planted with trees. In this was an artificial lake ofconsiderable extent, broken by wooded islets. This was always lit up ofan evening by coloured lights, and twice in the week was thrown openupon a small payment to the public, when a military band played, and thegrounds were brilliantly illuminated.
The scene was an exceedingly gay one, and the gardens were frequented bythe rank and fashion of St. Petersburg. The innumerable lights werereflected by the snow that covered the ground and by the white massesthat clung to the boughs of the leafless trees. The ice was covered withskaters, male and female, the latter in gay dresses, tight-fittingjackets trimmed with fur, and dainty little fur caps. Many of the formerwere in uniform, and the air was filled with merry laughter and theringing sound of innumerable skates. Sometimes parties of acquaintancesexecuted figures, but for the most part they moved about in couples, thegentleman holding the lady's hand, or sometimes placing his arm roundher waist as if dancing. Very often Godfrey spent the evening at thehouses of one or other of his Russian or English friends, andoccasionally went to the theatre. Sometimes he spent a quiet evening athome. He liked Catharine Petrovytch. She was an excellent housewife,and devoted to the comfort of her husband; but when not engaged inhousehold cares she seldom cared to go out, and passed her time for themost part on the sofa. She was, like most other Russian ladies when athome and without visitors, very careless and untidy in her dress.
Among the acquaintances of whom Godfrey saw most were two youngstudents. One of them was the son of a trader in Moscow, the other of asmall landed proprietor. He had met them for the first time at a fairheld on the surface of the Neva, and had been introduced to them by afellow-student of theirs, a member of a family with whom Godfrey wasintimate. Having met another acquaintance he had left the party, andGodfrey had spent the afternoon on the ice with Akim Soushiloff andPetroff Stepanoff. He found them pleasant young men. He was, they toldhim, the first Englishman they had met, and asked many questions abouthis country. He met them several times afterwards, and one day theyasked him if he would come up to their room.
"It is a poor place," one said laughing. "But you know most of usstudents are poor, and have to live as best we can."
"It makes no odds to me," Godfrey said. "It was a pretty bare place Ihad when I was at school. I shall be very glad to come up."
The room which the students shared was a large one, at the top of ahouse in a narrow street. It was simply furnished enough, containing buttwo beds, a deal table, four chairs, and the indispensable stove, whichkept the room warm and comfortable.
"We are in funds just at present," Akim said. "Petroff has had aremittance, and so you find the stove well alight, which is not alwaysthe case."
"But how do you manage to exist without a fire?"
"We don't trouble the room much then," Petroff said. "We walk abouttill we are dead tired out, and then come up and sleep in one bedtogether for warmth, and heap all the coverings from the other bed overus. Oh, we get on very well! Food is cheap here if you know where to getit; fuel costs more than food. Now which will you take, tea or vodka?"
Godfrey declared for tea. Some of the water from a great pot standing onthe top of the stove was poured into the samovar. Some glowing emberswere taken from the stove and placed in the urn, and in a few minutesthe water was boiling, and three tumblers of tea with a slice of lemonfloating on the top were soon steaming on the table. The conversationfirst turned upon university life in Russia, and then Petroff began toask questions about English schools and universities, and then thesubject changed to English institutions in general.
"What a different life to ours!" Akim said. "And the peasants, are theycomfortable?"
"Well, their lives are pretty hard ones," Godfrey acknowledged. "Theyhave to work hard and for long hours, and the pay is poor. But then, onthe other hand, they generally have their cottages at a very low rent,with a good bit of garden and a few fruit trees. They earn a littleextra money at harvest time, and though their pay is smaller, I think onthe whole they are better off and happier than many of the workingpeople in the towns."
"And they are free to go where they like?"
"Certainly they are free, but as a rule they don't move about much."
"Then if they have a bad master they can leave him and go to someoneelse?"
"Oh, yes! They would go to some other farmer in the neighbourhood. Butthere are seldom what you may call bad masters. The wages are alwaysabout the same through a district, and the hours of work, and so on; sothat one master can't be much better or worse than another, except inpoint of temper; and if a man were very bad tempered of course the menwould leave him and work somewhere else, so he would be the loser, as hewould soon only get the very worst hands in the neighbourhood to workfor him."
"And they are not beaten?"
"Beaten! I should think not," Godfrey said. "Nobody is beaten with us,though I think it would be a capital thing if, instead of shutting uppeople in prison for small crimes, they had a good flogging. It would dothem a deal more good, and it would be better for their wives andfamilies, who have to get on as best they can while they are shut up."
"And nobody is beaten at all?"
"No; there used to be flogging in the army and navy, but it was veryrare, and is now abolished."
"And not even a lord can flog his peasants?"
"Certainly not. If a lord struck a peasant the peasant would certainlyhit him back again, and if he didn't feel strong enough to do that hewould have him up before the magistrates and he would get fined prettyheavily."
"And how do they punish political prisoners?"
"There are no political prisoners. As long as a man keeps quiet anddoesn't get up a row, he may have any opinions he likes; he may argue infavour of a republic, or he may be a socialist or anything he pleases;but, of course, if he tried to kick up a row, attack the police, or madea riot or anything of that sort he would be punished for breaking thelaw, but that would have nothing to do with his politics."
The two young men looked in surprise at each other.
"But if they printed a paper and attacked the government?" Akim asked.
"Oh, they do that! there are as many papers pitch into the government asthere are in favour of the government; parties are pretty equallydivided, you see, and the party that is out always abuses the partywhich is in power."
"And even that is lawful?"
"Certainly it is. You can abuse the government as much as you like, saythat the ministers are a parcel of incompetent fools, and so on; but, ofcourse, you cannot attack them as to their private life and characterany more than you can anyone else, because then you would renderyourself liable to an action for libel."
"And you can travel where you like, in the country an
d out of thecountry, without official permits or passports?"
"Yes, there is nothing like that known in England. Every man can gowhere he likes, and live where he likes, and do anything he likes,providing that it does not interfere with the rights of other people."
"Ah! shall we ever come to this in Russia, Akim?" Petroff said.
Akim made no answer, but Godfrey replied for him. "No doubt you will intime, Petroff; but you see liberties like these do not grow up in a day.We had serfs and vassals in England at one time, and feudal barons whocould do pretty much what they chose, and it was only in the course ofcenturies that these things got done away with." At this moment therewas a knock at the door.
"It is Katia," Akim said, jumping up from his seat and opening the door.A young woman entered. She was pleasant and intelligent looking. "Katia,this is an English gentleman, a friend of ours, who has been telling usabout his country. Godfrey, this is my cousin Katia; she teaches musicin the houses of many people of good family."
"I did not expect to find visitors here," the girl said smiling. "Andhow do you like our winter? it is a good deal colder than you areaccustomed to."
"It is a great deal more pleasant," Godfrey said: "I call it gloriousweather. It is infinitely better than alternate rains and winds, withjust enough frost occasionally to make you think you are going to dosome skating, and then a thaw."
"You are extravagant," the girl said, looking round; "it is a long timesince I have felt the room as warm as this. I suppose Petroff has gothis allowance?"
"Yes, and a grumbling letter. My father has a vague idea that in someway or other I ought to pick up my living, though he never offers asuggestion as to how I should do it."
The young woman went to the cupboard, fetched another tumbler and pouredherself out some tea, and then chatted gaily about St. Petersburg, herpupils, and their parents.
"Do you live at the house of one of your pupils?" Godfrey asked.
"Oh no!" she said. "I don't mind work, but I like to be free when workis over. I board in an honest family, and live in a little room at thetop of the house which is all my own and where I can see my friends."
After chatting for some time longer Godfrey took his leave. As soon ashe had gone the girl's manner changed.
"Do you think you are wise to have him here, Akim?"
"Why not?" the student asked in turn. "He is frank and agreeable, he isrespectable, and even you will allow that it would be safer walking withhim than some we know; we do not talk politics with him."
"For all that I am sorry, Akim. You know how it will be; we shall gethim into trouble. It is our fate; we have a great end in view; we riskour own lives, and although for the good of the cause we must nothesitate even if others suffer, I do hate with all my heart that othersshould be involved in our fortunes."
"This is not like you, Katia," Petroff said. "I have heard you say yourmaxim is 'At any cost,' and you have certainly lived up to it."
"Yes, and I shall live up to it," she said firmly; "but it hurtssometimes, Petroff; it hurt me just now when I thought that that ladlaughing and chatting with us had no idea that he had better have thrusthis hand into that stove than have given it to us. I do not shrink; Ishould use him as I should use anyone else, as an instrument if it wereneedful, but don't suppose that I like it."
"I don't think there is any fear of our doing him harm," Akim said; "heis English, and would find no difficulty in showing that he knew nothingof us save as casual acquaintances; they might send him out of thecountry, but that would be all."
"It would all depend," she said, "upon how he fell into their hands. Ifyou happened to be arrested only as you were walking with him down theNevski Prospekt he would be questioned, of course, but as soon as theylearned who he was and that he had nothing to do with you, they wouldlet him go. But if he were with us, say here, when we were pounced upon,and you had no time to pull the trigger of the pistol pointing into thatkeg of powder in the cupboard, he would be hurried away with us to oneof the fortresses, and the chances are that not a soul would ever knowwhat had become of him. Still it cannot be helped now; he may be useful,and as we give our own lives, so we must not shrink from giving others'.But this is not what I came here to talk to you about; have you heard ofthe arrest of Michaelovich?"
"No," they both exclaimed, leaping from their seats.
"It happened at three o'clock this morning," Katia said. "Theysurrounded the house and broke in suddenly, and rushed down into thecellar and found him at work. He shot two of them, and then he wasbeaten down and badly wounded."
"Where were the other two?" Akim asked.
"He sent them away but an hour before, but he went on working himself tocomplete the number of hand-bills. Of course he was betrayed. I don'tthink there are six people who knew where the press was; even I didn'tknow."
"Where did you hear of it, Katia?"
"Feodorina Samuloff told me; you know she often helps Michaelovich towork at the press; she thinks it must have been either Louka or Gasin.Why should Michaelovich have sent them away when he hadn't finished workif one or the other of them had not made some excuse so as to get outof the way before the police came? But that is nothing, there will betime to find out which is the traitor; they know nothing, either ofthem, except that they worked at the secret press with him; they werenever much trusted. But Michaelovich is a terrible loss, he was alwaysdaring and full of expedients."
"They will get nothing from him," Petroff said.
"Not they," she agreed. "When do they ever get anything out of us? Oneof the outer-circle fellows like Louka and Gasin, who know nothing, whoare instruments and nothing more, may tell all they know for gold, orfor fear of the knout, but never once have they learned anything fromone who knows. Fortunately the press was a very old one and there wasbut little type there, only just enough for printing small hand-bills;we have two others ready to set up."
"Were there any papers there?"
"No, Michaelovich was too careful for that."
"I hear that old Libka died in prison yesterday," Akim said.
"He is released from his suffering," Katia said solemnly. "Anythingelse, Akim?"
"Yes, a batch of prisoners start for Siberia to-morrow, and there areten of us among them."
"Well, be careful for the next few days, Akim," Katia said; "don't doanything in the schools, it will not be long now before all is ready tostrike a blow, and it is not worth while to risk anything until afterthat. I have orders that we are all to keep perfectly quiet till theplans are settled and we each get our instructions. Now I must go, Ihave two lessons to give this afternoon. It tries one a little to betalking to children about quavers and semiquavers when one's head isfull of great plans, and you know that at any moment a policeman may tapyou on the shoulder and take you off to the dungeons of St. Nicholas,from which one will never return unless one is carried out, or is sentto Siberia, which would be worse. Be careful; the police have certainlygot scent of something, they are very active at present;" and with a nodshe turned and left the room.
"She is a brave girl," Akim said. "I think the women make betterconspirators than we do, Petroff. Look at her. She was a little seriousto-day because of Michaelovich, but generally she is in high spirits,and no one would dream that she thought of anything but her pupils andpleasure. Then there is Feodorina Samuloff. She works all day, Ibelieve, in a laundry, and she looks as impassive as if she had beencarved out of soap. Yet she is ready to go on working all night ifrequired, and if she had orders she would walk into the Winter Palaceand throw down a bomb (that would kill her as well as everyone elsewithin its reach) with as much coolness as if she was merely deliveringa message."