"What can you tell us about the secret police?" one of the youths asked.
"WHO IS THE SPY?"
"I can't tell you much about it," was the reply; "and if I could it would not be a secret police. It used to be a saying that where three men were together one was sure to be a spy, and one or both the others might be. The spies were in all classes of society, and paid by the police. They did not know each other, and it quite often happened that two of them would report against each other, doubtless to the amusement of the officials who compared their documents. If common gossip is true, the evil was greater in the time of Nicholas than under any other emperor, but many people say it is about as bad at one time as another.
"The clerk in the hotel, the waiter in the restaurant, the shopkeeper who was so polite to us, the tailor, hatter, boot-maker, milliner, or any other tradesman, any or all of them—women as well as men—may be in the employ of the Government, and report your movements and conversation. Nobody knows who is a spy, and nobody knows who is not. Consequently it is an excellent rule in Russia never to say anything in the hearing of any one else than ourselves that can be called in question. Mind, I don't know of my own knowledge that there is such a thing as a secret police, nor that such a person as a police spy exists in Russia. Having never said or done anything to which the Emperor or his most zealous officer could object, I have no fear of being interfered with.
"Here are some of the stories which were current in the time of Nicholas:
"A retired officer of the English army lived for several years in St. Petersburg. His manners were genial, and he made many friends both among the foreigners living here and those who visited Russia. He died suddenly one day, and one of his countrymen who was present at the time took charge of his effects. His papers revealed the fact that he was a spy of the Government, and was specially employed to watch foreigners.
"Soon after the Revolution of 1848 a party of French gentlemen in St. Petersburg met at the house of one of their friends. They had songs and speeches, and a pleasant evening generally; and as all were intimate, and of the same nationality, they were not at all cautious about their conversation. The only servants present were Russians, and none of them was known to understand French. Next morning the host was summoned to the Police Bureau, where he was politely received. The official read off the list of persons present, and a very accurate report of the songs, toasts, and speeches of the evening. Then he asked the host if the account was correct. The latter tremblingly answered that it was, and was then told he had been very imprudent—an assertion he could not well deny. He was dismissed with a caution not to repeat the imprudence, and you may be sure he did not. He never gave another party, and never could he guess whether the spy was one of his guests and compatriots, or one of the servants who understood French while pretending to be ignorant of it.
"A great reform has taken place, and matters which were formerly in the control of the police are now managed by courts of law. Trial by jury has been established, and though there are many hinderances on account of the scarcity of lawyers and judges and the ignorance of jurors, the system is working well. The law-schools are filled with students, and in a few years the machinery of the courts will not be unlike that of other lands.