The King's Commisar

'But yew would?'

They know me, the Bolsheviks there.'

'Maybe, but do they trust you?'

I shrugged. "The sight of Yakovlev won't set them murdering the youngsters.'

'Thinking of a boat, are you - from Tobolsk up the Ob?'

I shook my head, though that was precisely the direction of my thoughts. 'What will you do, General?'

He puffed smoke. 'More of the same. Harass these Bolshevik dogs wherever I can. Wait for the rest to arrive: they'll be here in a few weeks!'

'Who will - what others?'

'The Whites. Kolchak's army, the Czech Legion, all of them. It's advance, advance at the moment and the Bolsheviks are falling back. One day soon you'll get your wish. We'll take Ekaterinburg. Meanwhile I need guns and money.'

'Let's hope the Tsar will still be alive when you reach him. Will money buy guns?'

'Takes time,' Dutov said. 'Munitions have a long way to come from the Far East, but yes.'

For some minutes I had been looking at General Dutov with a thoughtful and sceptical eye, for there was a picture in my mind of that chest of gold coins, and a rearing question: should it be handed to Dutov? My own instinctive answer was that it should; what is a royal treasure for if it is not to be spent on the arms necessary to preserve the royal life? But Dutov was a brigand if ever I saw one. He was not a man who, shown the gold, would say at once, 'How generous! A thousand thanks.' Dutov would say, 'Where did it come from?' and 'How much more?'

Therefore I asked him, as great favour, to arrange for the line ahead to be cleared of the standing train. He agreed-'I like playing with trains' - and departed to arrange it. The task would be a simple one, for there was a spur siding actually in view.

Then, while he was away, I had Koznov assist me to lift the chest from the carriage, bear it forward to my wagon-lit, and stow it beneath the bed. That done, I took up the pillow used earlier to surrender, stepped down to the track and began to wave it. The signal brought a galloper and I said, 'Ask General Dutov if he can spare me a moment.'

The man appeared to regard this as mild effrontery. 'You should go to the General,' he admonished me.

'Tell him it will be worthwhile.'

I watched him ride off. A minute passed, then the milk-white beast came flying towards me.

'What's this?' barked Dutov. 'A damned summons?'

'Come with me.' I climbed aboard the train.

'What is it, damn you?' All this was an offence to his dignity. He followed me along to the wagon-lit, growling to himself.

I flung open the door and pointed to the handle of the chest where it protruded from beneath my bed.

'Help me pull it out.'

'I'll get one of my men.'

'Better,' I said, 'if this is private.'

He looked at me sharply.

'Entrusted to me by the Tsar,' I said, 'so it wouldn't fall into Bolshevik hands.'

He gave a little roar of eagerness and together we dragged the box out. When I lifted the lid, I thought he would explode with joy.

'A king's ransom, here,' he purred.

'A king's treasure,' I told him. 'To be used, as His Majesty insisted, in the general cause.'

'General damned nonsense,' said Dutov dismissively, his hands in the chest and coins clinking merrily.

'There isn't a general cause.'

'There's an anti-Bolshevik cause,' I said, 'and that will do.'

He was suddenly roaring with laughter. I for one had certainly never seen the like of the fortune in gold which lay in that chest, and I doubt if Dutov had either. Then suddenly the laughter stopped, and he was regarding me with suspicious eyes. 'How much did you take?'

'None,’ I said.

¦\AA'None!' he yelled. 'You're a damned liar! I bet you've taken -'

'Close the lid, man,' I said. 'And you'll see that the chest is full to the top. I have this -' and I took from my pocket a crucifix encrusted with sapphires, and lied to him - 'a gift from the Tsarina which I would not exchange for a moment. Not for all of that!'

He didn't know whether to gape at me or at the gold; his eyes were not still for a second. Perhaps a minute passed before he said, with a wonderful air of cunning: 'Think what I can buy with this!'

'Exactly,' I said.

So now my train could push ahead along a clear track, for Dutov did not remain long after the gold came to him. It was an easy and uninterrupted run through empty country that brought us at last back to Tyumen, and by then my mind was made up concerning the treasure. I left the faithful Koznov and his men to guard it at the station and made my way to the river quay. There was ice on the water still, and plenty of it; but it was broken now and the edges smooth as it melted. There was a building containing an office or two, and behind that, a warehouse of good size. A brass plate on the door of the offices proclaimed this to be premises of the West Siberian Steamship Co. The door was locked, and repeated banging on it produced no answer. It was probable, I thought, that the workers in this place would hibernate in the winter. But the winter was over now. I set out to find the responsible men.

The manager I found without trouble, in a house no distance away. He was a man in some difficulty, for the winter had changed his world. When in October the frosts had rendered the river unnavigable, there had still been a Provisional Government, and the company's owners, though far away in London and Oslo, were at least known. Now he knew only what the local Bolsheviks had told him: that everything belonged to the people. So, with spring upon him and a steamship company to manage, he was looking round for instructions very keenly.

'That steamer over there -' I pointed - 'is she fit to sail?'

'Oh yes. We keep a fire going through the winter months so-'

'How long to get steam up?'

'What are you proposing, Comrade?'

'CommissarYakovlev,' I said, and produced my paper.

He goggled at it.

'I intend to requisition that steamer for a journey to Tobolsk.'

'Of course, of course. We can have steam up in three hours.'

'Good. And I shall need horses and wagons.'

There was surprisingly little trouble: Tyumen was once again merely a town along the track, for the men from Ekaterinburg had gone. Carts and horses were rapidly assembled and it was perfectly clear that the relationship between the steamer manager and the carters was both long-standing and amiable. So all was done with fair ease and proper care. I stood by the rail carriages to make sure there was no attempted theft. One might imagine that men like those carters, who could never in their lives have come across such things before, might be at the least curious and at worst fiercely acquisitive; but they were not. In their placidity and capacity for work they much resembled their own horses. By mid-afternoon all was aboard the Rus, for that was the steamer's name, and I was ready to depart. The boat's master, one Meluik, was at the wheel and Koznov's men were below, ready to feed the boiler from the stacks of corded wood.

So we sailed. What I remember from that journey aboard the Rus is a sense of peace. Tyumen is itself a small town and Tobolsk hardly bigger and there is little between them save the waters of the river and a few villages along the banks. So the steamer nudged along through the ice, thrusting it aside; and on either bank the farmland was green with the spring thrust of young corn. There came a point when Captain Meluik pointed to a village as we passed and said, That is Pokrovskoe, Commissar.' His tone suggested I should know its name.

'Pokrovskoe?' I repeated, snapping my fingers. 'Ah, that's where -?'

'Rasputin,' he said eagerly. 'The mad monk came from there. Last year when the Tsar and Tsarina made this journey on my ship -' and then he caught himself. 'Your pardon, Commissar, the ex-Tsar and ex-Tsarina, that's what I meant.'