Chapter XVI: The Tratkir

With evident suspicion and mistrust, Bernikoff viewed the growing intimacy between his prisoner Ivan and the Scottish Captain; and though he neither recommended that it should cease or interdicted it, as he might and perhaps ought to have done, he made many mental notes thereof.

Though Balgonie sympathised with Ivan to the fullest extent, he knew too well the danger of doing more; and he felt that he had his own share of secret sorrow and anxiety, and might yet have greater to endure. The girl he loved with all the strength of a first and romantic passion was already a political fugitive; her father and cousin were prisoners, and perhaps in chains; her brother and his kinsman, Usakoff, already viewed as criminals; and with the terrors of despotism hanging over them all.

Natalie a fugitive--and where? In the wild forests, perhaps, where wolves and outlaws lurked: what perils and privations might she not be suffering! Natalie so delicate, so pure, so gently nurtured, and so highly bred.

Balgonie was aware, also, that intimacy with the family of Count Mierowitz, and the deep interest he had in their fate, was fraught with personal peril to himself in such a land of tyranny as Russia. Full of such thoughts as these one forenoon, he was leaning on a cannon in one of those deep embrasures of the fortress which faced the drawbridge communicating with the land. The guard was in the act of lowering the bridge to permit a man to pass out. This person was just parting from Bernikoff, with whom he had been for some time in close and earnest conversation, and from whom he was evidently receiving money--an unusual circumstance, as that distinguished field-officer generally lavished more kicks and cuffs than thanks or kopecs.

On beholding this man, as he bowed humbly, cap in hand, cross the bridge and disappear among the houses of the town beyond, Balgonie experienced a species of nervous shock. He could not doubt that this fellow, so gigantic in stature and powerful in muscular development, in the coarse caftan and leathern girdle, with the long lock of grizzled hair dangling behind his right ear, was Nicholas Paulovitch, the murderer of Podatchkine, the gipsy woodman, and the swindling mendicant of the barrier at the Neva.

"This man here in Schlusselburg," thought Balgonie, with indignation and alarm; "here in earnest conversation with Bernikoff! The spirit of mischief seems to pervade the air again!"

A few minutes afterwards the Cossack Jagouski who, as related, had been so severely knouted by Bernikoff for pilfering a pipeful of tobacco, came forward with tottering steps, and looking painfully thin and feeble from recent suffering; and with the crouching bearing of the Muscovite towards a superior, said that his Excellency the Governor wished to speak with him in his quarters, whither Balgonie at once repaired, after having, as military etiquette required, buckled on his sword.

"Carl Ivanovitch," said Bernikoff, who certainly had rather a perturbed air, "some suspicious characters are in our vicinity, and have actually been hovering in boats about the fortress. What think you of that?"

"Suspicious characters, Excellency--how?"

"In a Tratkir of the town, one dropped this coin--a silver rouble of the prisoner Ivan--Ivan the Unknown Person. To possess one, unless as I do this, for proof of treason, is to court death or Siberia."

"And from whom had you this?"

"A spy," replied the Colonel curtly.

"The man who has just left you?"

"The same."

"Nicholas Paulovitch," continued Balgonie, with increasing astonishment at the other's coolness; "the assassin of the Corporal--the wretch of whom I told you when I first arrived here!"

"All that may, or may not be," replied Bernikoff, with a stern air, almost amounting to rudeness: "when I require this devil of a fellow no more, you may impale him, if you please; but molest him not at present."

"I do not see, Excellency, that all this in any way concerns me," said Balgonie haughtily, as he lifted his hat, and put his sabre under his arm, as if about to retire.

"It does concern you thus far. I shall anticipate any attempt that be made by those lurkers, whoever they may be. You must remember," he added, lowering his voice, "the tenor of the dispatch you brought me?"

"Perfectly," replied Charlie, in a somewhat faint voice, as he knew not how terrible or repugnant might be the duty assigned him by this military despot.

"Well, you shall pass forth into the town tonight, with a patrol of twenty men, armed with sabres and carbines. Surround and search the Tratkir in the main street, and compel all therein, who seem suspicious, to produce their papers; and if they are without such, bring them to me, and I shall question them, in a fashion of my own."

By the laws of Russia, at that time, persons could not travel from St. Petersburg, or even from place to place, without a passport, describing their occupation, appearance, and route, which they were not at liberty to alter; and in the rural districts, travellers required a pass from the lord whose estate they may have been upon, before they were at liberty to quit it. Without such a document, no one would dare to furnish them with food or shelter, nor could a postmaster give them horses, however high their rank, or great their of reward. [Transcriber's note: the rest of this paragraph illegible in scan.]

"And I am to take twenty men with me?" said Balgonie, after an unpleasant pause.

"Yes! the bridge will be lowered for you after sunset. Whoever these lurkers are, they have been seen and overheard; and this coin is proof sufficient to warrant the transportation of a whole province. Be they who they may, by every dome in sacred Mother Moscow, they shall find me ready for them!"

And Bernikoff grimly touched his small dagger, a species of weapon which a Russian officer is seldom or never without, even in the present day; and when Charlie Balgonie remembered how that same dagger had been thrust into the throat of the half-strangled Peter III., a flush of indignant hate and aversion crossed his honest face. To him it was evident that the spirit of mischief or malevolence made Bernikoff select him, as one whom he suspected of a friendly interest in the family of Count Mierowitz, for this unpleasant duty, instead of Captain Vlasfief, the Lieutenant of Schlusselburg, or any other officer, who must have been better acquainted with the adjacent town and all its places of entertainment, than he, a total stranger, could ever be.

But he was a soldier; he had no resource but to obey in silence; and an angry sigh escaped him, as he stuck his loaded pistols in his girdle, when the sun sank behind the green painted roofs of the wooden town, and the evening gun boomed from the ramparts across the Lake of Ladoga.

Defiling in the twilight through the streets of Schlusselburg, he marched straight to where he knew that the principal Tratkir, or tea-house, was situated; and while his heart sank within him in fear of _whom_ he might arrest,--perhaps Natalie herself,--he at once surrounded the building, to prevent all egress, and to the evident alarm and perturbation of all who were within.

These tea-houses are no longer to be found in the capital of Russia now, for there all the _restaurants_ are constituted and arranged upon the French and German models; but they still exist in Moscow and elsewhere; and under their roofs, the genuine Muscovite consumes what would seem a fabulous amount of the Chinese plant. They are chiefly the resort of soldiers, porters, and droski drivers, all of whom must behave in a polite and orderly manner while there. All must enter the great room where the tea is served, cap in hand, alike out of respect for the company, and to the holy pictures, Souzdal daubs of SS. Sergius, Alexander Newski, and so forth, which decorate the walls; and all must salute the bar-keeper, after first saluting the Holy Image, which is to be found in every Russian apartment, and before which, a lamp of train oil is frequently burning.

When the crooked sabres of the dismounted Cossacks were seen flashing in the porch, and when Balgonie entered with his sword drawn, passing along the narrow way between the numerous tables, at which the groups were seated, amid an oppressive odour of strong tea, coarse tobacco, and Russian leather from boots, caps, and girdles; many a peasant in his canvas caftan, and many a stout moujik in his fur shoubah, felt his heart quail with apprehension, he knew not of what; and every saucer--the tea is not drunk from cups--was set down untasted, while one or two men nearly choked themselves with their lumps of sugar; for usually it is not put into the tea, but is retained in the mouth of the drinker, so that, in a spirit of economy, the poor Muscovite may indulge in two, perhaps three cups of his favourite beverage, and use thereto but one piece of sugar.

For his intrusion Balgonie apologised; this, though a very unusual proceeding in a country so despotic, failed to reassure the tea drinkers, who were all hushed in silence and expectation; and a girl who had been singing for their amusement, crouched down in a corner for concealment.

Balgonie counted the number of persons in the Tratkir, and noted the exact hour by his watch; he then proceeded, with a heart full of anxiety and dread, to examine each person in succession, in reality looking for those he had no wish to find.

All who possessed the requisite papers, showed them; others proved, all in succession, to be soldiers in uniform, moujiks, and droski drivers, with their brass badges, sailors, and serfs; thus, after a time, a load seemed to be lifted from the mind of the young officer. As he turned to leave the apartment without a prisoner, the Cossack Jagouski rather roughly dragged the singing girl from the nook where she had sought concealment, and then Balgonie recognised the fine dark face, the black eyes, and the large glittering ear-rings of Olga Paulowna, the gipsy girl whom he had befriended at Louga--she who saved him from a terrible fate in the forest.

"Let the girl go free, Jagouski," said Balgonie; "I shall answer for her if required."

Olga drew a paper from her bosom and showed that it was her passport from the Commandant of Krejko, permitting her to travel to and from Schlusselburg.

Jagouski saluted and withdrew a few paces; and now, as if the cloud of doubt and dread Balgonie's arrival had cast over all was dispersed, again the noisy hum of voices pervaded the long room of the tea-house, and laughter even broke forth at intervals.

"Olga," said Balgonie, "you here--so far from home?"

"Yes, Hospodeen, for my home is anywhere, or wherever night finds me; but I have news for you."

"News--and for me?"

"Yes," said she, sinking her voice to a whisper; "I have news of Natalie Mierowna----"

"Hush, for heaven's sake, girl!--hush!" said Balgonie with a nervous start.

"She is here----"

"Here in this house?"

"No, Hospodeen."

"Where then?--oh, speak quickly!"

"In the neighbourhood of Schlusselburg."

Charlie felt his heart die within him at this intelligence, for such a vicinity was full of peril.

"Be to-morrow at noon on the road that leads to Tosna, and you shall learn more; but do you know it, Hospodeen?"

"I shall soon discover it--and the place?"

"The skirts of the wood four versts from this."

"Good--till then, adieu; and God be with you."

Balgonie retired all unaware or heedless that his Cossacks were secretly jesting at his whispering with the pretty gipsy; and through the dark streets he marched them towards the great and sombre masses of the fort which loomed between him and the star-lighted sky, his heart the while being literally sick with alarm and dismay, in the conviction, that the long-dreaded crisis was coming--that Natalie was near, and the place of her concealment was known to a vagrant gipsy girl, the sister of Nicholas Paulovitch, who, if he knew it not already, might wrest the secret from her with the point of his knife, for the information of him whose spy he was--the hateful Bernikoff!

Ruin and sorrow were close at hand, indeed.

On receiving the official but verbal report of Balgonie, and learning that the visit to the identical tea-house where the dangerous rouble was found had proved abortive, and that there was no one to be knouted or hanged in the morning, Colonel Bernikoff became transported with rage, and lifted his cane somewhat threateningly. On this, Balgonie's hand was instantly laid on the hilt of his sword.

"Beware, Excellency," said he firmly: "a blow to an equal is a foul insult; to an inferior it is mean tyranny; and, in either instance, blood alone should wash it out."

On this the Colonel's rage assumed a new phase; he trod on his cocked hat, and ordered the wax candles which he had always burning before the image of his patron, St. Sergius, to be extinguished. He loaded the effigy with the bitterest reproaches, and for that night left the poor saint in total darkness, despite the intercession of Father Chrysostom.