“Why, Botchkareva’s Battalion!” he replied in a loud voice.
“Botchkareva’s?” I asked reminiscently. “Oh, yes, Botchkareva; yes, I have heard about her.”
“The ——! She is a Kornilovka!” he exclaimed. “She is for the old régime.”
“How do you know?” I asked. “I thought she was non-partisan.”
“We know them all, the counter-revolutionists! She is one of them,” my companion declared emphatically.
“Well, but the Battalion of Death no longer exists, and Botchkareva has apparently vanished,” I suggested.
“Yes, we know how they vanish. Many of them have vanished like that. Kornilov had vanished, too. Then they all pop up again somewhere or other and cause trouble,” he declared.
“Now, what would you do to her if she were to pop up here?” I ventured to inquire.
“Kill her. She would never get away alive, you may stake an oath on that,” he assured me. “We have the photographs of all the leading counter-revolutionaries, so that they can’t conceal their identity if they are caught.”
The conversation then took a more profitable turn for me. I learned all about the plans of the Bolshevik force against Kornilov. The arrival of the train at Zverevo put an end to my association with my travelling companion. I thanked him warmly for all his kindness to me.