46

I wonder where Lucie is now?

Something heavy and depressing is in my mind this last time; some fog in my thoughts; I think I am losing my standing of a gentleman, dealing with all of these people.  My language has become vulgar; my manners, also.  I begin....

(few lines scratched out)

47

...  This morning Pashinsky repeated that the Em. will be taken to Ekaterinburg with the Empress and the Heir.  The daughters will stay here for a while.  “Believe me, we’ll have a good time,” he said, offensively breathing in my face.

I stood near the gates of the fence when Dr. Botkin passed.  Nobody was near me, Pashinsky having gone for a drink of water into the quarters.  I said without turning my head: 

“Decision taken to send only the Em. and Empress and the Heir.  Daughters will stay here.”  Dr. Botkin did not stop.  Then, as guard, I did not let him in, and as if I were examining him (that was my right) I said, “Please warn the ladies, and tell the Emperor that the Commissary did not act badly; I guess there is no danger in his going away.  I fear for the ladies only.”

“You don’t mean it!  They double-crossed us!  They assured us all would go.  The scoundrels!  Now please let me go,—­and thank you, you strange man.”

I let him go.

Pashinsky appeared and looked at me.  “Are you getting tired of this muzzle, too?  Isn’t he a ...?”

“Yes,” I said, “I must watch him closer now.  I think we had better watch him.  You stay on the other side, and I’ll be here near the windows.

“All right,” he said.  “Then we can meet here.  I’m going to walk from the garden to the fence, and you stay right here.  What is your suspicion?”

“Nothing in particular,” I answered....  “Just the ordinary one; I don’t like him.  That’s all.”

So we walked the way he proposed.  Every time he would be near the garden, he would cough in such a noisy and sardonic way that the Heir, who was sitting with Derevenko on the bench would turn his long, pensive face, and his old sailor guardian would look with hatred on the rascal.

When Pashinsky was away, the window behind me opened very cautiously and a lady’s voice said to me, “Don’t turn.  Is it true they are to take Father away?  Now, I know you are a gentleman.  What would you advise us to do?  I think we are all lost.”

Pashinsky started to come back; then a Lett passed, so the voice stopped.  Pashinsky came near me and said, “The Heir never cries when I tease him.  Believe me, he is a hard kid.  What do you think if I scare him more?”

“Yes,” I said, “a stubborn child.”  “I must try again,” and he walked away.

The window again gave way.  “Please,” the same voice said, “can’t you give any advice to us?  We are so frightened!  Father is praying; Mother’s very ill; we are all alone.”

“I’ll write you,” I said, (without moving my lips), “what I think and bring it back.”