I did so, and after a short wait found myself talking to General Soukhomlinoff, who told me that the Russian commander was that day at headquarters at Minsk.
When I told the monk, he said: "You must go there at once, Féodor, and carry the little tube to the Cossack Peter Tchernine, who is now Brusiloff's body-servant."
"I!" I gasped, startled at the suggestion that I should be chosen to convey death to our gallant commander.
"Yes. And pray why not? Someone whom I can trust must act as messenger. And I trust you above all men, Féodor."
For a moment I hesitated.
Then I thanked him for his expression of confidence, but he at once noticed the reluctance which I had endeavoured to conceal.
"Surely, Féodor, you are not hesitating to perform this service for the Fatherland? Think of all the sacrifices we are making to bring the benefit of German civilisation into Russia," added the pious scoundrel.
"I will go—certainly I will go," I said. "But I cannot leave to-day. I shall require papers from the Ministry ere I can travel."
"His Excellency the General will order them to be furnished to you," he said. "I will see to it at once."
And five minutes later he went out to seek the Minister.