“Everything has been taken by them; they threaten to crush us if the Allies will assist them, even in the slightest way.  Still we send.  It is a question of two hundred thousand rubles,—­but nobody knows that I, Nachman, a scabby Jew, got about fifty thousand out of them.  Now another thing:  who got the pay for the heavy trucks, and for the benzine, and for the tents, and for the ... oh, many other things!... who got it?  This very Nachman, yes, comrad ... have some more, please, it’s good!...”

45

“Quod forti placuit legis habet valorem.”

Sailor Khokhriakov—­the special envoy of the Sovnarkom—­and his band. 
Here is the real danger, but only in case Colonel Kobylinsky and his
Detachment of Special Destination would consent to join the Soviets. 
They all hesitate, not the Colonel, however.

The meeting of the Peoples’ Commissaries from Petrograd (Khokhriakov) and Kaganitsky (from Ural, I guess) is certainly worthy of description.  I went there, leaving for that reason my Mansion duties—­(simply by saying to Pashinsky “tell them I am not coming to the Mansion as I have to attend the meeting"); nowadays military service is really a pleasure.

We all were sitting in the recreation room, about sixty or seventy of us in all.  Khokhriakov presided.  His neck is like a bull’s, but rougher—­and red.  He started the meeting by a thunderous “Shut up, you over there!” and “Somebody open the window; who in hell is smoking such ... tobacco (I omit the adjective, though correct and strikingly expressive, but profane)?”

The noise stopped under this voice, the windows were thrown open, and our Peoples’ Commissary began: 

“Comrades,—­before us are three questions; 1st—­whether to release the prisoners and give them to the Tobolsk people under the auspices of Comrade Kobylinsky and his men, or 2d—­whether to try the prisoners right here by the people’s tribunal, or 3d—­to comply with some other requests—­which I have the authority to propose—­to send the prisoners to a Ural city.  Let us proceed with the first question.  I put this proposition to the ballot in this way:  the Tobolians, and amongst them the popes, the monarchists, all of the counter-revolutionary trash do not want the Peoples’ rule.  So they say that the Nikolai family must be given to the Constituent Assembly.  Now, what in the hell of hells, do they mean by this?  What is a Constituant Assembly?  Isn’t it a crowd of the same enemies of the people?  Isn’t this ‘Parliament’ against our will?  Shall we, proletarians, consider the question of a Constituent Assembly?  Would it not be an act of counter-revolution?  Come out here, right before me, the one that will dare to propose such a thing,” and the ten pound wooly fist of the sailor was lifted and held for moments in the filthy air of the recreation room.

This rhetorical question, in fact, was not necessary, as we all, hearing the word “Proletariat” in the middle of Khokhriakov’s speech had already started to make a noise and to applaud, the cheers densely hung in the room,—­and even before he said, “I knew you are good proletarians and would drown this proposition, God damn you,—­carried,”—­the fate of this weak and impossible thing at that time, the hope for a Constituent Assembly,—­was told.  In no way would it do.