There is no difference in fact.  I wanted to be closer to something elevated.

The lights were so quiet and peaceful looking in the dark church through high-colored windows.  There were not many people in their church, so I could concentrate.  But instead of a Christian quiet, I got something else.  I guess the idea came to me when I thought that Pashinsky was a Pole.

I began to think that I could not do very much here,—­but still something.  They will try to annoy the Princesses, and I must protect them.  Thus—­my staying here will be justified.  If Pashinsky or the Letts should do something that would be bad, I’ll kill them,—­or some of them.  When I thought of it, I looked at the Holy Faces; the sun came out of the white clouds, the rays fell on the walls,—­and the Faces smiled at me.  “Yes,” I thought, “if my decision is not agreeable,—­the sun will hide behind the clouds again.  I’ll wait for five minutes”—­the sun did not hide,—­so—­this was accepted.  Then I tried to figure how to do it, and found a way.  I’ll get Pashinsky at the first attempt.

My God, what nonsense I think of!...

49

Schtolz.  Jackson.  Vieren.  The man with the wounded leg.  Kitser.  Dutzman.  Khokhriakov.  Fost.  Pashinsky.  Kart.  Fedor.  Laksman.  Vassiliev (son).  Kobylinsky.  Perkel.  Niestadt.  Cymes.  Leibner.  Vert.  Wang-Lee.  Frenkel.  The fat Kister.  Vygardt....

(a few lines scratched out)

50

The “Kitai” was at the pier when we—­the detachment of twelve, guarding a silent man and a hysterical woman—­came there under the cover of night; it was raining, though the air was warm.  The Irtysh stood fragrant with this odor of a big, noble river.  The waters—­in which sank Yermak under his heavy corselet—­the same waters were carrying toward the unknown—­the Imperial Family.

Though their departure was supposed to be made in secrecy, there was a crowd of people on the pier—­we tried to chase them away, but they stood there.  An ascetic figure was standing on the next pier, lit only by a few lanterns.  This black figure lifted a cross and blessed the Emperor, who tenderly released his hand from the spasmatic grip of his terrified wife and made the sign of the cross.

“Quit that, Reverend scoundrel,” I heard Khokhriakov’s voice.  “Who asked you to come?”

The priest answered: 

“Thou knowest not what thou art committing.”

“Ah, shut up!  To hell with your citations, you old idiot!

“Take him down over there.  Isn’t there anyone to choke him?” continued Khokhriakov bending over the hand-rails.  “This ass is propagating,—­don’t you see, comrades?”

No one, however, moved.  This crowd around the Bishop all answered.  Their answer,—­a blunt roaring,—­sounded like distant thunder and there was such a frightening unity in this dull noise,—­that I had the shivers.

“You cowards!” bellowed the sailor, “I’ll have to come back and finish with the pope myself!  It will not be the first one, anyhow.  It’s too late now!  Be damned you all!  Go ahead!” The gangplanks dropped.