“No matter. I speak for those who are with me.”
“Not for all of them,” said I, interposing with an unholy laugh. “We have three here who would like to speak for themselves. Come up and ask them why your scheme to fire the house has failed.”
My reply seemed to produce far more effect than the sneer itself warranted, for we heard the men draw together and speak in low but excited tones. Suddenly the reason for this flashed upon me. I had spoken in Russian, and my accent had betrayed me for a foreigner.
“THE SUDDENNESS OF THE ACTION TOLD, AND PERHAPS THE
RECKLESSNESS OF IT HELPED ME.”—[Page 133.]
At last I began to see the way out of it all, and my strange frenzy rapidly subsided.
“Are you coming, gentlemen?” I cried again. “We can promise you a merry welcome which will save some of you at least the trouble of returning. Or do you find it easier to gag women than to face men?” and I continued to pour in a broadside of sneers and taunts, speaking all the time in Russian.
“Who is that speaking, Boreski?” came at last in the same gruff deep voice that had spoken before.
“The man you have been fools enough to mistake for the Emperor,” I answered with a laugh.
“Boreski, why do you not answer?”