Pashinsky thought over my proposition for a second,—thinking was a strenuous effort for him. His obscene face wore a suffering and preoccupied expression; then he said:
"I think you are right. We'll let Fost stay and watch the inner doors, and you and I will be alone in this side of the house. Then the men on the streets can't catch us, and we will be protected from the inside too…."
Then he had some idea. A bad one, I am sure!
"All right, that's a good way, anyhow. Now I am going to take a bath,—I need it. If somebody asks for me, say so."
The Lett and I remained. I stood for half an hour near my window,—then it opened. I fixed the note on the bayonette and it went to its destination.
After, a voice said:
"Mister * * *, we are afraid! What can we do? Do you think that you can protect us? Please tell the truth, don't try to console us."
"I am sure, your Highness," I said, "please don't worry."
The voice continued: "They took out the keys from the doors. We cannot even lock ourselves in, or hide. Can't you tell this to the Budishchev's—perhaps they can do something?"
"You shouldn't try to hide, and there is no use to tell it to anybody, believe me. Be in the room on the second floor and wait there. I will be on the watch as I said."