Part 35 (1/2)

”We are here on business of our own, Alexander Petrovitch, and you've got to keep out of it. Go where you like and wait till it's over ...

here, your people are in the kitchens, go there.”

”They're in hot quarters down there.”

I did in fact see our Poles at the open window of the kitchen, in company with a good many other convicts. I did not well know what to be at; but went there followed by laughter, insulting remarks, and that sort of muttered growling which is the prison subst.i.tute for the hissings and cat-calls of the world of freedom.

”He doesn't like it at all! Chu, chu, chu! Seize him!”

I had never been so bitterly insulted since I was in the place. It was a very painful moment, but just what was to be expected in the excessive excitement the men were labouring under. In the ante-room I met T--vski, a young n.o.bleman of not much information, but of firm, generous character; the convicts excepted him from the hatred they felt for the convicts of n.o.ble birth; they were almost fond of him; every one of his gestures denoted the brave and energetic man.

”What are you about, Goriantchikoff?” he cried to me; ”come here, come here!”

”But what is _it_ all about?”

”They are going to make a formal complaint, don't you know it? It won't do them a bit of good; who'll pay any attention to convicts? They'll try to find out the ringleaders, and if we are among them they'll lay it all on us. Just remember what we have been transported for. They'll only get a whipping, but we shall be put regularly to trial. The Major detests us all, and will be only too happy to ruin us; all his sins will fall on our shoulders.”

”The convicts would tie us hands and feet and sell us directly,” added M--tski, when we got into the kitchen.

”They'll never have mercy on _us_,” added T--vski.

Besides the n.o.bles there were in the kitchen about thirty other prisoners who did not want to join in the general complaints, some because they were afraid, others because of their conviction that the whole proceeding would prove quite useless. Akim Akimitch, who was a decided opponent of everything that savoured of complaint, or that could interfere with discipline and the usual routine, waited with great phlegm to see the end of the business, about which he did not care a jot. He was perfectly convinced that the authorities would put it all down immediately.

Isaiah Fomitch's nose drooped visibly as he listened in a sort of frightened curiosity to what we said about the affair; he was much disturbed. With the Polish n.o.bles were some inferior persons of the same nation, as well as some Russians, timid, dull, silent fellows, who had not dared to join the rest, and who waited in a melancholy way to see what the issue would be. There were also some morose, discontented convicts, who remained in the kitchen, not because they were afraid, but that they thought this half-revolt an absurdity which could not succeed; it seemed to me that these were not a little disturbed, and their faces were quite unsteady. They saw clearly that they were in the right, and that the issue of the movement would be what they had foretold, but they had a sort of feeling that they were traitors who had sold their comrades to the Major. Jolkin--the long-headed Siberian peasant sent to hard labour for coining, the man who got Koulikoff's town practice from him--was there also, as well as the old man of Starodoub. None of the cooks had left their post, perhaps because they looked upon themselves as belonging specially to the authorities of the place, whom it would be unbecoming, therefore, to join in opposing.

”For all that,” said I to M--tski, ”except these fellows, all the convicts are in it,” and no doubt I said it in a way that showed misgivings.

”I wonder what in the world _we_ have to do with it?” growled B----.

”We should have risked a good deal more than they had we gone with them; and why? _Je hais ces brigands._[8] Why, do you think that they'll bring themselves up to the scratch after all? I can't see what they want putting their heads in the lion's mouth, the fools.”

”It'll all come to nothing,” said some one, an obstinate, sour-tempered old fellow. Almazoff, who was with us too, agreed heartily in this.

”Some fifty of them will get a good beating, and that's all the good they'll all get out of it.”

”Here's the Major!” cried one; everybody ran to the windows.

The Major had come up, spectacles and all, looking as wicked as might be, towering with pa.s.sion, red as a turkey-c.o.c.k. He came on without a word, and in a determined manner, right up to the line of the convicts.

In conjunctures of this sort he showed uncommon pluck and presence of mind; but it ought not to be overlooked that he was nearly always half-seas over. Just then his greasy cap, with its yellow border, and his tarnished silver epaulettes, gave him a Mephistophelic look in my excited fancy. Behind him came the quartermaster, Diatloff, who was quite a personage in the establishment, for he was really at the bottom of all the authorities did. He was an exceedingly capable and cunning fellow, and wielded great influence with the Major. He was not by any means a bad sort of man, and the convicts were, in a general way, not ill-inclined towards him. Our sergeant followed him with three or four soldiers, no more; he had already had a tremendous wigging, and there was plenty more of the same to come, if he knew it. The convicts, who had remained uncovered, cap in hand, from the moment they sent for the Major, stiffened themselves, every man s.h.i.+fting his weight to the other leg; then they remained motionless, and waited for the first word, or the first shout rather, to come from him.

They had not long to wait. Before he had got more than one word out, the Major began to shout at the top of his voice; he was beside himself with rage. We saw him from the windows running all along the line of convicts, das.h.i.+ng at them here and there with angry questions. As we were a pretty good distance off, we could not hear what he said or their replies. We only heard his shouts, or rather what seemed shouting, groaning, and grunting beautifully mingled.

”Scoundrels! mutineers! to the cat with ye! Whips and sticks! The ringleaders? _You're_ one of the ringleaders!” throwing himself on one of them.

We did not hear the answer; but a minute after we saw this convict leave the ranks and make for the guard-house.

Another followed, then a third.

”I'll have you up, every man of you. I'll---- Who's in the kitchen there?” he bawled, as he saw us at the open windows. ”Here with all of you! Drive 'em all out, every man!”

Diatloff, the quartermaster, came towards the kitchens. When we had told him that _we_ were not complaining of any grievance, he returned, and reported to the Major at once.