"This woman," he said, "is arrested."
Lucas was unlocking the door. He turned with his hand on the key, and the woman touched his arm. Perhaps that touch aided him to use big words. As a resident in Tambov he knew the officer by sight, and had always been a little daunted by his manner of power. In Russia one comes easily to fear the police. But now he was free of fear.
"You be careful," he said. "I saw what was being done."
With his left hand he pushed the door, and it swung open. He motioned the woman to enter, and nodded as he saw her cross the threshold.
The officer vented a click of impatience.
"I tell you——" he began, and moved forward a step. Lucas extended an arm and the hand that held the flute across his chest.
"Back!" he said. "You mustn't enter this house—you know that! You can go to the Governor, if you like, and I will go over his head. But you shall not touch that woman."
"She is arrested," said the officer obstinately, still studying his antagonist. "If you wish to aid her, you must go to the Bureau; but you cannot take her away like this."
"Eh?" Lucas swung round on him; the time was fertile in inspirations. "Can't I?!" he demanded threateningly. "But I have taken her, man. If you seize her now you must arrest me, too, and then—we shall see!"
"I must do my duty," persisted the other.