'Good night - Marie.'
She paused. There was scarcely any light, but I could dimly see the pale outline of her face. She said softly, Thank you.' And kissed me on the cheek. And was gone. I stood for a while beside the closed door. Much of the magic of the night had departed with her, and realization that there was a dangerous time ahead came flooding back to me. I went at last to find Ruzsky: if nothing else, he could tell me about the city of Ekaterinburg and so keep from my mind the suddenly-gathering and fearful images which now crowded in. But he was asleep and snoring. I lay on my bunk and tried also to sleep, but could not. Then, for I must have been more weary than I knew, I did indeed doze for a little while, only to be awakened when the train halted. Yet I had given orders that it proceed without stopping to Ekaterinburg, and this was only Tyumen! And while I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes, the train was boarded by a dozen or so men and I recognized some of them as part of the Ekaterinburg detachment which had been at Tobolsk. They recognized me too, and just as quickly. Before I could move from where I stood, there was a pistol in my ribs and a voice snarling at me: 'Commissar Yakovlev, you are under arrest!'
'By whose orders?"
'On the authority of the Urals Soviet.'
I began my ritual protest. I was an emissary of the Central Executive Committee. Death awaited anyone who impeded 'Keep it for your trial!' I was told.
I was shoved roughly back and the door of the wagon-lit was slammed. Thus imprisoned, I came to Ekaterinburg. They opened my door as the train halted jerkily, and I was pulled into the corridor. Through the carriage window I could see that there was a jostling crowd around the train; a noisy one too. There were yells of 'Bring him out!' 'Hang the German bitch!' 'Show us Bloody Nicholas!' Truly it was a most frightening sight.
A moment later I was pushed to one side by the bearded lout who was guarding me, and as I turned my head I saw the Imperial Family coming towards me along the corridor, Nicholas first and carrying his own luggage, his face set.
I thought, Damn this rabble! and stood to attention and saluted. Nicholas stopped and looked at me.
I said. 'I have informed Moscow. They're bound to intervene, sir.'
His face darkened, and he gave me a look filled with hatred. 'We are under arrest, you treacherous pig!' he said, and stepped past me, adding over his shoulder, 'You've killed us all!'
In the end, they changed its name. Ekaterinburg was founded by Peter the Great and named for his wife. Now -and what irony there is in this! - now the city is Sverdlovsk, named for Yankel Sverdlov. Oh yes - the same. The Sverdlov who had sent me to Tobolsk, the Sverdlov who had christened me Yakovlev, the Sverdlov whose signature lay upon the paper which demanded all men assist me. They spat upon his signature that day - and laughed openly at mention of his name ! When I brandished Lenin at them, and Trotsky, they were no more impressed. Times have changed indeed. . . . But then - well, I was flung in to prison, and a real prison, too, with stone walls and clanging iron door. When the iron door opened again it was to admit two men. I had seen neither before. I was sitting on the grubby cell floor, for there was no chair and no bed. Scrambling at once to my feet I faced them angrily. 'How dare you imprison me!'
One of them - he looked like a superior clerk: fat, with a dark moustache and a creased suit-stood forward. 'Dare?' he said. 'The Urals Soviet does not dare. It acts - in full Soviet legality.'
'Doesn't Sverdlov?' I demanded. 'Doesn't Lenin? Are their actions illegal! Tell me, whoever you are. And I'll pass the message on!'
He surveyed me angrily. 'I am Alexander Beloborodov, chairman of the Urals Soviet, lawful government of the Urals region. Comrade Goloshchokin here is also a member.'
'I travel on direct orders from the Head of State!' I insisted, and showed my paper.
'To set Bloody Nicholas free!' said Goloshchokin. He was another type, this man: thin and intent. 'You know as well as I do what they're doing. It's a dirty deal with the Germans, made because the damned Tsarina's a German.' He turned on me angrily. 'Isn't it?'
I gave anger for anger. 'How do I know what's in their minds in Moscow? I do as I'm told. Maybe they have got one eye on the German army. To them it's too damned dangerous and too damned near. I am under orders to deliver the whole Romanov family to Moscow. When they get there, I don't know if they'll go on trial, if they'll go to the Germans - or if they'll be sent to Timbuctoo, for that matter.'
'Ah, but what do you want?' asked Beloborodov softly.
'Want?'
'What should be done?'
I thought for a moment, and thought damned carefully. These two would string me up, as soon as not, I sensed that with no difficulty. Their anxiety to demonstrate independence from Moscow was manifest.
'Me?' I said. 'I'd put them on trial before the world. There's evidence enough. But it's not my task to decide.'
'It's mine,' Beloborodov said. His round face glistened, though there was little warmth in the cell. I shook my head. 'Why? Why you? Upon what basis?
Are you Commissar for Foreign Affairs or is Comrade Trotsky? You merely want to kill for vengeance
-'
'Yes.' They said it in chorus. 'That damned German woman,' Goloshchokin went on angrily. 'How many deaths can be laid at her door?'
'And you want more?' I demanded. 'She's a German princess! If they want her back as the price of peace, what then? If she can be used to save the lives of our soldiers, why not? Because you want revenge, eh? And you are safe - a thousand miles from the German army.'
He scowled at me, and I turned to Beloborodov. 'You think I'm a traitor, do you?'
'Perhaps.' He said it quietly, threateningly.
'And Sverdlov - he's a traitor too? And Lenin? If they are not, I am not. Look at that signature!'
'How do I know it isn't forged?' Beloborodov said.
'You will know if you telegraph Moscow. There must be a telegraph available here.'
'He's bluffing,' Goloshchokin said.
'Am I? It's easy to find out. Send a telegram to Moscow!'
Whether or not they did, I have no way of knowing. What I do know is that they left me in that malodorous cell and as the iron door clanged behind them, I felt near to despair. All had gone dreadfully wrong. I was in prison, as the Tsar and Tsarina and Marie must now be. And it was I who had allowed them to fall into the hands of men who desired their deaths. No wonder the Tsar thought I had betrayed them.
I spent time staring unseeing at the stone floor before the thoughts came. What of Ruzsky? The prospect of Ekaterinburg had worried him not at all - as it would not, since like Goloshchokin and Beloborodov he was actually a member of the Soviet.
Whatever else he was!The man was a riddle: on the one hand a fanatic, on the other some kind of agent. And French, to boot! What was it he had said? After some thought I could even remember his words: 'I serve various interests,' he had said. 'For the moment, I am to help you when you need help.' And also: