We appeared to be making for the road that led to Pavloff’s house, where I guessed we might be going, but I asked no questions. Mishka would speak when necessary,—not otherwise. We passed through a belt of pine trees on to the rough road; and there, more heard than seen in the darkness, we came on two horsemen, each with a led horse.
“That you, Wynn?” said a low voice—the Duke’s. “You are in good time. This is your horse; mount and let us get on.”
We started at a steady pace, not by the road, but across country, and for three versts or more we rode in absolute silence, the Duke and I in advance, Mishka and his father close behind.
“Well, I told you I could get away when I wished to,” said Loris at last. “And this time I shall not return. You are a good disciplinarian, my friend! You have come without one question! For the present we are bound for Zizcsky, where she probably awaits us. There may be trouble there; we have word that a pogrom is planned; and we may be in time to save some. The Jews are so helpless. They have lived in fear, and under sufferance for so long, that it is difficult to rouse them even to defend themselves,—out here, anyhow. In Warsaw and Minsk, and the larger towns within the pale, it is different, and, when the time comes, some among them at least will make a good fight of it!”
“We may find that the alarm was false, and things are quiet. If so,—good; we ride on to Count Vassilitzi’s house some versts further. He is Anna’s cousin and she will be there to-morrow if she is not in Zizcsky; and there we shall decide on our movements.
“I said that the game begins,—and this is it. Perhaps to-morrow,—or maybe a week or a month hence, for the train is laid and a chance spark might fire it prematurely,—a great strike will commence. All has been carefully planned. When the moment comes, the revolutionists will issue a manifesto demanding a Constitution, and that will be the signal for all workers, in every city and town of importance, to go on strike; including the post and telegraph operatives, and the railway men. It will, in effect, be a declaration of civil war; and God alone knows what the upshot will be! There will be much fighting, much violence; that is inevitable. The people are sanguine of success, for many of the soldiers and sailors are with them; but they do not realize—none of the lower classes can realize—how strong a weapon the iron hand of the bureaucracy wields, in the army and, yes, even in the remnant of the navy. Supposing one-tenth of the forces mutiny, and fight on the side of the people, or even stand neutral,—and I do not think we can count on a tenth,—there will still be nine-tenths to reckon with. Our part will be, in a way, that of guerillas. We go to Warsaw, the headquarters of our branch of the League. We shall act partly as Anna’s guards. She does not know that; she herself is utterly reckless of danger, but I have determined to protect her as far as possible, as you also are determined, eh, mon ami? Also we shall give aid where we can, endeavor to prevent unnecessary violence, and save those who are unable to defend themselves. That, in outline, is the program; we must fill in the details from one moment to the next, as occasion serves. I gather my little band as I go,” he continued, speaking, like a true son of the saddle, in an even, deliberate voice that sounded distinct over the monotonous thud of the horses’ hoofs. “Yossof has carried word, and the first recruits await us outside the village yonder. They are all picked men, members of the League; some have served in the army, and—”
From far in our rear came a dull, sinister roar, followed by a kind of vibration of the ground under our feet, like a slight shock of earthquake.
“My God, how they hate me!” I heard Loris say softly. Page [259]