With my pass from the Tumen soviet and a very sure feeling of a perfect disguise, I came yesterday to the local scoundrels,—the "high commission of investigations" as they call this filthy, impossible place where they meet. It used to be the Ecclesiastical School in other days. I had quite a time penetrating these regions guarded by the Reds. The man to whom I was recommended was an elderly kind-faced fellow. All he was saying to me was virtually addressed to the crowd of Reds in the room; as for the room, I think it used to be in former times the professors' room.
"Yes, yes,—your credentials are perfect. Comrade Schmelin,—of
course I know him! You have no such troubles in Tumen as we have here.
But—all must be done. And for the sake of the Revolution and the
Proletariat—we are here, and will do our duty."
To show how much power he had, he gave some orders to the Reds. They would come near him to take these orders, stand still as they were standing only a few months ago before an officer, and then turn in the brusque manner of soldiers.
The kind faced man—with his sly Jewish features and bulgy big eyes, did not ask me who I was, how I was, and why I wanted the position of an "advising commissary" with the detachment. He looked at me, and smiled,—read the letter I presented,—and, seeing on my face an admiration for his splendor, accepted me. My God, how alike these people-in-power are! I remember, in my early days, the Count Witte, a man with heavy, depressing looks. He liked this move of a man-of-power. I recollect Mr. Kokovtzev who liked so much to see admiration on his visitor's face…. I see this little insignificant and blunt Kerensky, that fished for worship…. And here,—this "tovarishch" Nachman—sitting in his chair and ruling—had the same identical signs of self-respect, self-adoration, and independence. And—with all of them—I would, without any effort, just by instinct, get on their feeble side, change the whole expression of my face,—even think like them, and love them,—and win. The instinct of accommodation is a great thing,—and, it seems to me I possess it in sufficient volume.
So—accepted in the ranks of those that go wherever they wish, that do whatever their left foot feels like doing, those that continue to remodel the country, those that are so free in every action—I sat near the powerful man,—Comrade Nachman—as equal to equal.
But—what I really could not conceive,—was the range of his duties; he was judge, and governor, and military commander, and lawyer, and coroner, and administrator of the city, and the notary public—all that used to be connected with business—was his concern…. They could not do it in the olden days; they had to have a specially trained man for every branch before,—and now!
"How perfectly you perform all of these different duties," I said.
42
I am a jailer; I guess the first in our family.
Together with Comrade Adolf Pashinsky,—a Pole from the dreadnaught "Andrey Pervozvanny,"—I am walking on the Great Liberty Street, and inside of the fence, watching the prisoners in the Mansion, and watching to see that supreme justice—the will of the people—be done.