The Secret of the Night Part 24

"The police know everything," said Rouletabille coldly. And he asked for champagne, which he never drank.

The champagne commenced its work. While Thaddeus and the officers told each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women, Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille and gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.

"You have undertaken, young man, a n.o.ble task and one all the more difficult because General Treba.s.sof is condemned not only by his enemies but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane. Understand me thoroughly: Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly. He is good, brave as a warrior, but I wouldn't give a kopeck for his police. He has mixed in our affairs lately by creating his own secret police, but I don't wish to meddle with that. It amuses us. It's the new style, anyway; everybody wants his secret police nowadays. And yourself, young man, what, after all, are you doing here? Reporting? No. Police work? That is our business and your business. I wish you good luck, but I don't expect it. Remember that if you need any help I will give it you willingly. I love to be of service. And I don't wish any harm to befall you."

"You are very kind, monsieur," was all Rouletabille replied, and he called again for champagne.

Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concerned herself with her meal and had little answer for him.

"Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?"

"No," said Annouchka indifferently.

"The daughter of General Treba.s.sof."

"Yes, that is true, on my word," cried Ivan Petrovitch.

"Yes, yes, Natacha was there," joined in the other friends from the datcha des Iles.

"For me, I saw her weep," said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka fixedly.

But Annouchka replied in an icy tone:

"I do not know her."

"She is unlucky in having a father..." Prince Galitch commenced.

"Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave," clucked Gounsovski. "Your health, dear Annouchka."

"Your health, Gounsovski. But you have no worry about that."

"Why?" demanded Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff in equivocal fashion.

"Because he is too useful to the government," cried Ivan Petrovitch.

"No," replied Annouchka; "to the revolutionaries."

All broke out laughing. Gounsovski recovered his slipping gla.s.ses by his usual quick movement and sn.i.g.g.e.red softly, insinuatingly, like fat boiling in the pot:

"So they say. And it is my strength."

"His system is excellent," said the prince. "As he is in with everybody, everybody is in with the police, without knowing it."

"They say... ah, ah... they say..." (Athanase was choking over a little piece of toast that he had soaked in his soup) "they say that he has driven away all the hooligans and even all the beggars of the church of Kasan."

Thereupon they commenced to tell stories of the hooligans, street-thieves who since the recent political troubles had infested St. Petersburg and whom n.o.body, could get rid of without paying for it.

Athanase Georgevitch said:

"There are hooligans that ought to have existed even if they never have. One of them stopped a young girl before Varsovie station. The girl, frightened, immediately held out her purse to him, with two roubles and fifty kopecks in it. The hooligan took it all. 'Goodness,' cried she, 'I have nothing now to take my train with.' 'How much is it?' asked the hooligan. 'Sixty kopecks.' 'Sixty kopecks! Why didn't you say so?' And the bandit, hanging onto the two roules, returned the fifty-kopeck piece to the trembling child and added a ten-kopeck piece out of his own pocket."

"Something quite as funny happened to me two winters ago, at Moscow," said la belle Onoto. "I had just stepped out of the door when I was stopped by a hooligan. 'Give me twenty kopecks,' said the hooligan. I was so frightened that I couldn't get my purse open. 'Quicker,' said he. Finally I gave him twenty kopecks. 'Now,' said he then, 'kiss my hand.' And I had to kiss it, because he held his knife in the other."

"Oh, they are quick with their knives," said Thaddeus. "As I was leaving Gastinidvor once I was stopped by a hooligan who stuck a huge carving-knife under my nose. 'You can have it for a rouble and a half,' he said. You can believe that I bought it without any haggling. And it was a very good bargain. It was worth at least three roubles. Your health, belle Onoto."

"I always take my revolver when I go out," said Athanase. "It is more prudent. I say this before the police. But I would rather be arrested by the police than stabbed by the hooligans."

"There's no place any more to buy revolvers," dedared Ivan Petrovitch. "All such places are closed."

Gounsovski settled his gla.s.ses, rubbed his fat hands and said:

"There are some still at my locksmith's place. The proof is that to-day in the little Kaniouche my locksmith, whose name is Smith, when into the house of the grocer at the corner and wished to sell him a revolver. It was a Browning. 'An arm of the greatest reliability,' he said to him, 'which never misses fire and which works very easily.' Having p.r.o.nounced these words, the locksmith tried his revolver and lodged a ball in the grocer's lung. The grocer is dead, but before he died he bought the revolver. 'You are right,' he said to the locksmith; 'it is a terrible weapon.' And then he died."

The others laughed heartily. They thought it very funny. Decidedly this great Gounsovski always had a funny story. Who would not like to be his friend? Annouchka had deigned to smile. Gounsovski, in recognition, extended his hand to her like a mendicant. The young woman touched it with the end of her fingers, as if she were placing a twenty-kopeck piece in the hand of a hooligan, and withdrew from it with disgust. Then the doors opened for the Bohemians. Their swarthy troupe soon filled the room. Every evening men and women in their native costumes came from old Derevnia, where they lived all together in a sort of ancient patriarchal community, with customs that had not changed for centuries; they scattered about in the places of pleasure, in the fashionable restaurants, where they gathered large sums, for it was a fashionable luxury to have them sing at the end of suppers, and everyone showered money on them in order not to be behind the others. They accompanied on guzlas, on castanets, on tambourines, and sang the old airs, doleful and languorous, or excitable and breathless as the flight of the earliest nomads in the beginnings of the world.

When they had entered, those present made place for them, and Rouletabille, who for some moments had been showing marks of fatigue and of a giddiness natural enough in a young man who isn't in the habit of drinking the finest champagnes, profited by the diversion to get a corner of the sofa not far from Prince Galitch, who occupied the place at Annouchka's right.

"Look, Rouletabaille is asleep," remarked la belle Onoto.

"Poor boy!" said Annouchka.

And, turning toward Gounsovski:

"Aren't you soon going to get him out of our way? I heard some of our brethren the other day speaking in a way that would cause pain to those who care about his health."

"Oh, that," said Gounsovski, shaking his head, "is an affair I have nothing to do with. Apply to Koupriane. Your health, belle Annouchka."

But the Bohemians swept some opening chords for their songs, and the singers took everybody's attention, everybody excepting Prince Galitch and Annouchka, who, half turned toward one another, exchanged some words on the edge of all this musical uproar. As for Rouletabille, he certainly must have been sleeping soundly not to have been waked by all that noise, melodious as it was. It is true that he had-apparently-drunk a good deal and, as everyone knows, in Russia drink lays out those who can't stand it. When the Bohemians had sung three times Gounsovski made a sign that they might go to charm other ears, and slipped into the hands of the chief of the band a twenty-five rouble note. But Onoto wished to give her mite, and a regular collection commenced. Each one threw roubles into the plate held out by a little swarthy Bohemian girl with crow-black hair, carelessly combed, falling over her forehead, her eyes and her face, in so droll a fashion that one would have said the little thing was a weeping-willow soaked in ink. The plate reached Prince Galitch, who futilely searched his pockets.

"Bah!" said he, with a lordly air, "I have no money. But here is my pocket-book; I will give it to you for a souvenir of me, Katharina."

Thaddeus and Athanase exclaimed at the generosity of the prince, but Annouchka said:

"The prince does as he should, for my friends can never sufficiently repay the hospitality that that little thing gave me in her dirty hut when I was in hiding, while your famous department was deciding what to do about me, my dear Gounsovski."

"Eh," replied Gounsovski, "I let you know that all you had to do was to take a fine apartment in the city."

Annouchka spat on the ground like a teamster, and Gounsovski from yellow turned green.

"But why did you hide yourself that way, Annouchka?" asked Onoto as she caressed the beautiful tresses of the singer.

"You know I had been condemned to death, and then pardoned. I had been able to leave Moscow, and I hadn't any desire to be re-taken here and sent to taste the joys of Siberia."

"But why were you condemned to death?"

"Why, she doesn't know anything!" exclaimed the others.

"Good Lord, I'm just back from London and Paris-how should I know anything! But to have been condemned to death! That must have been amusing."