Part 22 (1/2)

Again the two at the table consulted, and then Sophia Kensky called a na black portfolio in his hand, and this he laid on the table, opening the flap and taking out a sheaf of papers

”Read theroped about on the table and found first a rubber stamp and then a small, flat ink-pad Sophia lifted the first of the papers and spelt out the narowled

”An upstart woly,” he said ”I remember her She used to whip her servants Tell me, Sophia, my life, what has she done now?”

”Plotted to destroy the Revolution,” said the woht his rubber sta officer, who replaced it in his portfolio ”And the next?”

”Paul Geslkin,” she said and passed the docu to overthrow the Revolution”

”A boorjoo, a tricky young ain his staain the paper went across the table into the portfolio of the officer

The soldiers about Malcoled away, and they were alone

”What are these?” whispered Malcolm

”Death warrants,” replied Malinkoff laconically, and for the second time a cold chill ran down Malcolm's spine

Name after name were read out, and the little rubber stamp, which carried death to one and sorrow to so many, thudded down upon the paper

Malcolm felt physically ill The room was close and reeked of vile tobacco fumes There was no ventilation, and the oil lamps made the apartment insufferably hot An hour, two hours passed, and no further notice was paid to the two men

”I can't understand it quite,” said Malinkoff in a low voice

”Ordinarily this would mean serious trouble, but if the Commissary had any suspicion of you or o”

Then suddenly Boolba rose

”What is the hour?” he said

A dozen voices replied

”Half-past ten? It is time that the sweeper was here”

He threw back his head and laughed, and the reat yellow handkerchief, which re particularly unpleasant, Boolba wiped the streahtless eyes and bent down to the woman at his side, and Malcolm heard him say: ”What is his name--he told me,” and then he stood up

”Hay,” he said, ”you are a boorjoo You have ordered ood that a house should be clean, eh?”

”Very good, Boolba,” said Malcolm quietly

”Boolba he calls ood! I stood behind hireat English lord! Yes, I, Boolba!” he struck his chest, ”crawled on my knees to this man, and he calls me Boolba now--Boolba!” he roared ferociously ”Come here! Do this! Clean my boots, Boolba! Come, little Boolba, bow thy neck that I may rest my foot!”

A voice from the door interrupted him