“You had this upon you,” he said in the same tone, as he fingered my revolver. “And, as I said, it is loaded.”
I turned to the soldiers.
“Gentlemen, I am at your disposal. Take me to the guard-house and send to me the officer of the watch;” and I moved toward the door.
The sergeant himself had no liking for the job now, however, and hesitated; and the official in a surly tone gave in.
“You can write,” he said, and laid paper and pen on the desk.
“I will not write now,” I said curtly, for I began to see another ending to the affair. “I gave you the opportunity and you declined it. I will go to the guard-house. His Majesty and Prince Kalkov shall find me there, and you can explain. Come, gentlemen, if you please; or shall I go alone?”
That any one should exhibit a preference to be arrested was so novel an experience for Russian officialism that they were all staggered. The official took refuge in anger.
“Are you attempting a joke with me?” he cried.
“I do not joke with persons in your position,” I retorted sternly.
“I have my duty,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.