Everything was ripe for a rupture. The army had been won over to the cause of the Revolution. In the various provinces, administrative details had already been arranged, and to every one his part had been distributed. To Casimir Moskowski was assigned the insurrectionary province of Volhynia. The signal was awaited from St. Petersburg. As soon as the Revolution had broken out and gained ground there, the signal would be given to all the other chief towns, to the South Russians in Kiev, to the Tartars at Kazan, to the Crimean peoples in Bogchiserai, to the Finns in Helsingfors, to the Poles at Warsaw—the Revolution would raise its head simultaneously in all these places. And before long the concerted outbreak would spread from Bialystok to Perm, Odessa, and even to distant Tobolsk.
The Starosta was ravished at the prospect.
"But how about the Governor?" he said.
"Nicholas Eskimov will be seized in the citadel, together with the garrison."
"And then he shall sweep the courtyard of the Palace of Bialystok," cried the Starosta, "and that stuck-up little daughter of his, Tatiana, shall wash the crockery in my scullery."
"But all this must be kept secret till the signal arrives from St. Petersburg for a general rising."
There was only one thing which nettled the old Starosta. As the Holy League had included Volhynia among its provinces, why did they not confide the leadership of the insurrection to the man best entitled to it; in other words, to himself, the father? Why give it to his son?
"Well, you know, you are very old, and drink a great deal."
At last the old man accommodated himself to the new order of things. After all, if his son became the chief man in Volhynia, the glory of it could not fail to rebound upon him.
From that day forth the two young men remained hidden in the Castle; none knew of their whereabouts.