The left side of his face was inflamed and tears were frozen on his eyes. It was a good one, by God!
After this incident I turned to the quarters "for a drink of water" and wrote a little note that "nothing bad could happen to the Princesses when they were alone" and that, "I shall exert all in my power to prevent any disagreeable happenings." I wrote that I knew some people were working to save them. My letter, I thought, would brace them up and would give them an idea that there was, amongst these beasts—one, that would not be an enemy. In case of a struggle this idea would keep them from losing hope and their power of resistance. Then I added that I could be found in the hotel, and that Dr. Botkin knew me.
Contemplating my scratchings, I went over to the window; somebody was patiently waiting and looking around, for the voice said:
"I am so glad Derevenko slapped this awful man."
"I am too, your Highness. Now—there is a letter. I'll put it on the bayonette and stay still; you take it."
Pashinsky passed near me talking with another Red. He felt badly I am sure,—he did not look at me.
I rolled the piece of paper, stuck it on the edge of the sharp bayonette and putting the rifle on my shoulder, directed it towards the window. I felt when it was taken. Then I joined my fellow jailers.
48
Today I saw a man who resembled strikingly the Tumen Russian of the profane language. And it reminded me very much of the Ls., of the English officer, of the fellow with dark eyeglasses—and of Lucie. I felt abandoned again. So I went to the Church, but then turned back: I cannot go in, for it might spoil my reputation of a Red. However, I stood for a bit near the doors and listened to the singers, and then decided to go to the Catholic church, for only Russian Reds must not pray; Polish Reds happen to have this privilege.
There is no difference in fact. I wanted to be closer to something elevated.