“Assuredly. When one’s calculations are based on human folly and incredulity, failure is impossible. That is why business matters possess so little interest.”
“At the bottom, you have no esteem for anything but force and might. Your temperament is that of a condottiere of the fourteenth century. You have been let loose in this coward society of ours, there is no scope for your talents in such a restricted civilization as the present. Come, Hans, since we are speaking to one another to-night, with apparent frankness, who are you, and where do you come from? It is five years since I first met you, and yet I know you no better than I did the first day. We have mutual interests, and yet I have no hold on you. You are generally called Hans, but sometimes Fichter; although you look like a German, you can speak both Russian and Spanish admirably. I have known you to accomplish the most abominable actions, and yet you are never cruel without necessity. You attempt to obtain possession of huge sums of money, though your style of living is anything but extravagant. Where do all your resources go to? What end have you in view? What is this mysterious task you are engaged on, for the little you accomplish with us is only a small part of your work? You have trusty companions who do not belong to us. Suddenly you disappear, to accomplish some work or other we know nothing about. I sometimes suspect that we are merely tools in your hands, and are collaborating, without the faintest suspicion of it, in the execution of some far-reaching plan which embraces the whole of humanity. At times, I wonder if you are not the visible head of some enormous and terrible international federation, which, at a given moment, and everywhere at the same time, will set the revolution aflame.”
Hans smiled, shook his head approvingly, and then said in railing tones—
“Women are far better than men, after all, for being possessed of delicate tact and a clear perception of things. Ah! So you have wondered who I really was, Sophia? Well, well! my dear, you are more inquisitive than either Lichtenbach or Agostini, without speaking of the rest, for not one of them ever attempted to find out what I was unwilling to show. Good! Sophia, good! I am interested in you, my child, for you are no fool.”
Rising, he took the young woman by the waist, drew her to himself, and gave her a friendly kiss on the forehead. Then, looking at her steadfastly as though to force his words to enter her brain, he said—
“If you attempt to make a psychological study of me you will lose your time, Sophia. Know that I am Hans Fichter to you, and shall never be any other. All the same, do not forget that I am not really Hans Fichter. You have sought my personality with amusing clear-sightedness, but you will never discover it, and that is very lucky for you, otherwise you would not survive your discovery a single moment. Yes, my child, I have too many people around me, interested in my freedom of action, for any one, who thought of playing the spy on me, to be permitted to live. Do not imagine, however, that I am a kind of evil genius, a master of rebel souls, or the arbiter of future social transformations. If you did you would be on the wrong track. My power is great, but not sovereign. I am one of the numerous soldiers of a cause which will triumph in time, and I bow to no master!”
“Hans!” exclaimed Sophia; “you speak like the nihilists of my own country. I knew a young student, named Sewenikof, who propagated nihilist literature among the Moujiks in Moscow, and spoke in almost the same tones as you are using now. One day he disappeared.”
“Yes, my child, as you will disappear if you repeat a single word, however seemingly simple and inoffensive, of what I have just said. Your Sewenikof, whom I have never met, but whom I know, after all, as though I saw him, was merely an instigator, an agent who has been suppressed. That kind of thing happens every day. Be careful, Sophia. I am very fond of you, and should be sorry if any trouble befell you. All the same, I should be unable to do anything. Now it is time to say good night.”
“You are going to bed?”
“No. I have a rendezvous with my men at Ars. Have you not heard them shouting themselves hoarse all day long, fools as they are? What a pack of simpletons! These people have no idea that they are hurling threats and imprecations simply because such a course suits my convenience.”