Actually, I had no idea that the young Prince was really involved in revolutionary circles and that for a long time he had been kept under close observation by my colleagues. So my hatred and my desire for vengeance had one might say, met with a certain amount of luck. For hear what happened. A few days after the police had arrested Komrover, they brought into our cell a very handsome young man in the uniform of the Imperial Engineers. It was my false half-brother, the young Prince Krapotkin.
I greeted him, but of course he did not recognize me. With insidious persistence I began to worm my way into his confidence. Komrover, who lay on his bed in a corner, now held no more interest for me. And as Lakatos had once done with me, I began also to do with the Prince, luring information out of him, one thing after another, betrayal after betrayal; only with more success than Lakatos had had with me. Yes, I even asked the young Prince whether he still remembered the snuffboxes which his father used to give to his guests. That startled the young man; he reddened, I could see it even in the semi-darkness of the cell. That is just what happened: the man, who had perhaps plotted to overthrow the Czar, grew red when I reminded him of his boyhood escapades. From then on he willingly gave me all the information I asked. I learned that, as a direct result of that ridiculous affair with the snuffboxes, which had one day come to light, the youth had felt himself driven to adopt a hostile attitude towards law and order. Like so many young men of his time, he had used the fact that his vulgar little pilferings had been discovered as an excuse for becoming a so-called revolutionary and for attacking the existing organization of society. He was still handsome, and when he spoke, and even when he smiled with his white teeth, the gloomy cell in which we were imprisoned grew brighter. His uniform was faultless in cut. Faultless in shape, too, was his face, his mouth, his teeth, his eyes. I hated him.
He told me everything — everything, my friends! There is no longer any point in my telling you all that he said. But it did me no good when I reported our conversations. For punishment was meted out, not to the young Prince Krapotkin, but to the completely innocent Jew, Komrover.
I can still see how they came in and hammered the chain and ball around his left leg. He went to Siberia. But the young Prince vanished one day, quicker than he had come.
Every statement that the Prince had made to me had been attributed to young Komrover.
Such was the practice in those days, my friends!
I was with him in the cell during his last night. He cried a little, gave me a few notes to his parents and friends and relations, and then said: “God is everywhere. I do not fear. Neither do I hate. No one! You were my friend and a friend in need. I thank you!”
He embraced me and kissed me. Still today his kiss burns on my face.
And at those words Golubchik raised a finger and stroked his right cheek.
Some time later I was transferred to St. Petersburg. You cannot know what such an appointment meant. In St. Petersburg one acted under the immediate orders of the most powerful man in Russia, the head of the Ochrana. On him depended the safety of the Czar himself. My superior was none less than Count W., a Pole; even today I dare not mention his name. He was an extraordinary man. Everyone of us who served under him had to take a special oath in his room. An enormous silver crucifix stood between two yellow wax-candles on his black desk. Black curtains covered the doors and windows. Behind the desk, on a disproportionately high black chair, sat the Count, a little man with a bald head covered with freckles, with pale watery eyes which reminded one of dried forget-me-nots, shrivelled ears like yellow papier mâché, prominent cheekbones, and a perpetually half-open mouth which revealed his great strong teeth. This man knew everyone of us employed in the Ochrana; he watched over our every step, although he never seemed to leave his office. He seemed to us uncanny, and we were far more afraid of him than the country was of us. We had to swear a long oath in front of him, in his mysterious room, and before we left him, he said to each one of us: Now, beware! Child of Death! Is your life dear to you? To which we answered: Yes, Excellency! — and he dismissed us.
One day I was summoned by his secretary, who informed me that there was a special job on hand for myself and several of my companions. The great Parisian dress-designer, Monsieur Charron — that was the first time I had heard the name — had been invited to Petersburg. He was proposing to give a display of his latest models in the Petersburg Theater. Several grand dukes were interested in the mannequins. Several ladies in the highest society were interested in the dresses. Now arose the question — so said the secretary — of arranging a special form of surveillance. For who knew what undesirable characters there might not be among Monsieur Charron’s mannequins? Might they not hide weapons or bombs under their clothes? And how easy that would be for them! They would naturally have to change every five minutes, go from the stage to their dressing rooms and back again, and an accident might easily happen. Monsieur Charron had announced that he was bringing fifteen girls with him. So we needed fifteen men. The job might necessitate transgressing the ordinary laws of decency. But we would have to be prepared for that. Would I make all arrangements and take charge of the case, the secretary asked me?
This unusual, even fantastic duty pleased me greatly. I see now, my friends, that I cannot avoid making mention of even the most intimate things in my life. So I must confess to you that up till that time I had never been really in love, as is usually the case with young men. Except for the gypsy whom my friend Lakatos had introduced to me, my experiences with women had been limited to the few occasions on which I had possessed and paid for a girl in one of the so-called houses of pleasure. Although my profession necessitated my knowing the world and also gave me every opportunity of doing so, I was still young enough to imagine that I would simply have to watch these Parisian mannequins during the actual shows, and that I had been selected to spy upon these exquisite ladies in all their entrancing nakedness, and even, perhaps, to “possess” them. I immediately said that I was ready to take on the job and set about choosing my fourteen co-workers. They were the smartest and youngest fellows in our division.
The evening on which the Parisian dressmaker, together with his mannequins and innumerable trunks, arrived in Petersburg, brought us no small amount of worry.
We arrived at the station, fifteen in number, and yet it seemed to each of us as though we were only five or even two. Our supreme chief had instructed us to be particularly on the alert; and all this simply because of a dressmaker. We mingled with the crowds who had come to meet their relatives at the station. At that time I was convinced that I had been entrusted with a particularly arduous and important duty. I had no less a task than, for all I knew, to save the life of the Czar.