Beasts, Men and Gods [80]
You can do with me as you wish, because force is on your side, but you cannot compel me to speak with one who gives me offence."
At these words of mine he swung his feet down off the bed and with evident astonishment began to survey me, holding his breath and pulling still at his moustache. Retaining my exterior calmness, I began to glance indifferently around the yurta, and only then I noticed General Rezukhin. I bowed to him and received his silent acknowledgment. After that I swung my glance back to the Baron, who sat with bowed head and closed eyes, from time to time rubbing his brow and mumbling to himself.
Suddenly he stood up and sharply said, looking past and over me:
"Go out! There is no need of more. . . ."
I swung round and saw Captain Veseloffsky with his white, cold face. I had not heard him enter. He did a formal "about face" and passed out of the door.
"'Death from the white man' has stood behind me," I thought; "but has it quite left me?"
The Baron stood thinking for some time and then began to speak in jumbled, unfinished phrases.
"I ask your pardon. . . . You must understand there are so many traitors! Honest men have disappeared. I cannot trust anybody. All names are false and assumed; documents are counterfeited. Eyes and words deceive. . . . All is demoralized, insulted by Bolshevism. I just ordered Colonel Philipoff cut down, he who called himself the representative of the Russian White Organization. In the lining of his garments were found two secret Bolshevik codes. . . . When my officer flourished his sword over him, he exclaimed: 'Why do you kill me, Tavarische?' I cannot trust anybody. . . ."
He was silent and I also held my peace.
"I beg your pardon!" he began anew. "I offended you; but I am not simply a man, I am a leader of great forces and have in my head so much care, sorrow and woe!"
In his voice I felt there was mingled despair and sincerity. He frankly put out his hand to me. Again silence. At last I answered:
"What do you order me to do now, for I have neither counterfeit nor real documents? But many of your officers know me and in Urga I can find many who will testify that I could be neither agitator nor. . ."
"No need, no need!" interrupted the Baron. "All is clear, all is understood! I was in your soul and I know all. It is the truth which Hutuktu Narabanchi has written about you. What can I do for you?"
I explained how my friend and I had escaped from Soviet Russia in the effort to reach our native land and how a group of Polish soldiers had joined us in the hope of getting back to Poland; and I asked that help be given us to reach the nearest port.
"With pleasure, with pleasure. . . . I will help you all," he answered excitedly. "I shall drive you to Urga in my motor car. Tomorrow we shall start and there in Urga we shall talk about further arrangements."
Taking my leave, I went out of the yurta. On arriving at my quarters, I found Colonel Kazagrandi in great anxiety walking up and down my room.
"Thanks be to God!" he exclaimed and crossed himself.
His joy was very touching but at the same time I thought that the Colonel could have taken much more active measures for the salvation of his guest, if he had been so minded. The agitation of this day had tired me and made me feel years older. When I looked in the mirror I was certain there were more white hairs on my head. At night I could not sleep for the flashing thoughts of the young, fine face of Colonel Philipoff, the pool of blood, the cold eyes of Captain Veseloffsky, the sound of Baron Ungern's voice with its tones of despair and woe, until finally I sank into a heavy stupor. I was awakened by Baron Ungern who came to ask pardon that he could not take me in his motor car, because he was obliged to take Daichin Van with him. But he informed me that he had left instructions to give me his own white camel and two Cossacks as servants. I had no time to thank him before he rushed out of my room.
Sleep then entirely deserted me, so I dressed and began
At these words of mine he swung his feet down off the bed and with evident astonishment began to survey me, holding his breath and pulling still at his moustache. Retaining my exterior calmness, I began to glance indifferently around the yurta, and only then I noticed General Rezukhin. I bowed to him and received his silent acknowledgment. After that I swung my glance back to the Baron, who sat with bowed head and closed eyes, from time to time rubbing his brow and mumbling to himself.
Suddenly he stood up and sharply said, looking past and over me:
"Go out! There is no need of more. . . ."
I swung round and saw Captain Veseloffsky with his white, cold face. I had not heard him enter. He did a formal "about face" and passed out of the door.
"'Death from the white man' has stood behind me," I thought; "but has it quite left me?"
The Baron stood thinking for some time and then began to speak in jumbled, unfinished phrases.
"I ask your pardon. . . . You must understand there are so many traitors! Honest men have disappeared. I cannot trust anybody. All names are false and assumed; documents are counterfeited. Eyes and words deceive. . . . All is demoralized, insulted by Bolshevism. I just ordered Colonel Philipoff cut down, he who called himself the representative of the Russian White Organization. In the lining of his garments were found two secret Bolshevik codes. . . . When my officer flourished his sword over him, he exclaimed: 'Why do you kill me, Tavarische?' I cannot trust anybody. . . ."
He was silent and I also held my peace.
"I beg your pardon!" he began anew. "I offended you; but I am not simply a man, I am a leader of great forces and have in my head so much care, sorrow and woe!"
In his voice I felt there was mingled despair and sincerity. He frankly put out his hand to me. Again silence. At last I answered:
"What do you order me to do now, for I have neither counterfeit nor real documents? But many of your officers know me and in Urga I can find many who will testify that I could be neither agitator nor. . ."
"No need, no need!" interrupted the Baron. "All is clear, all is understood! I was in your soul and I know all. It is the truth which Hutuktu Narabanchi has written about you. What can I do for you?"
I explained how my friend and I had escaped from Soviet Russia in the effort to reach our native land and how a group of Polish soldiers had joined us in the hope of getting back to Poland; and I asked that help be given us to reach the nearest port.
"With pleasure, with pleasure. . . . I will help you all," he answered excitedly. "I shall drive you to Urga in my motor car. Tomorrow we shall start and there in Urga we shall talk about further arrangements."
Taking my leave, I went out of the yurta. On arriving at my quarters, I found Colonel Kazagrandi in great anxiety walking up and down my room.
"Thanks be to God!" he exclaimed and crossed himself.
His joy was very touching but at the same time I thought that the Colonel could have taken much more active measures for the salvation of his guest, if he had been so minded. The agitation of this day had tired me and made me feel years older. When I looked in the mirror I was certain there were more white hairs on my head. At night I could not sleep for the flashing thoughts of the young, fine face of Colonel Philipoff, the pool of blood, the cold eyes of Captain Veseloffsky, the sound of Baron Ungern's voice with its tones of despair and woe, until finally I sank into a heavy stupor. I was awakened by Baron Ungern who came to ask pardon that he could not take me in his motor car, because he was obliged to take Daichin Van with him. But he informed me that he had left instructions to give me his own white camel and two Cossacks as servants. I had no time to thank him before he rushed out of my room.
Sleep then entirely deserted me, so I dressed and began