“Yes,” I answered, “I am about the only one whom they have not happened to exterminate, but it is coming”!

Marchenko smiled.  “You should not stay here for very long,” he said, “It is getting dangerous and raids are being planned to finish with the burjoois who are hiding in the outskirts of Moscow.”

“Don’t think,” he went on, “that I am honestly with the communists.  My task is the same and if we failed to do something before,—­now we know we will be successful.  Kerensky is out of the life, living evidently under the friendly protection of Lenine; I think Lenine was the only man that he did not attempt to double cross.”

“Now,” he continued, “let us speak of you.  I think that you must understand that the little services that were asked of you some months ago would have prevented many, many disagreeable events.  Behind you, you can see only sad memories and mourning,—­before you, the very dark existence of a man in hiding.  If you will join us, I could guarantee you a more or less protected life,—­of course you will have to care for your own self, too.”

“Please your Excellency,” said the voice of Goroshkin behind me, “don’t refuse this time.  If your esteemed father could have known the circumstances, he would have consented, and he was a strict man.  I recollect that His Excellency would not deign to wait a second for his overcoat.”

“Very well, I accept,” I said to Marchenko, “but I must say to you that it is not for the protection you promise me.  I do not care much for my life, but I would like to preserve it.  Not to die right now, but hold it until the moment when I could avenge myself.  And that’s my personal aim.  As for your plan—­it suits me—­for it is a measure not of Russia’s good—­but a weapon against our present enemy—­the Red Flag.  And, I may add that in me you will find a disciplined man.”

Goroshkin disappeared and came back with a bottle of Abrau-Durcot, with which we celebrated my consent.

Indeed I had nothing further to think about.  My task was to go to Tumen in disguise, meet some people there, and through Goroshkin communicate with Marchenko.

My instructions included....

(a few pages torn out)

22

Goroshkin brought me a passport of Mr. Syvorotka, with my description and my particular marks (broken shoulder), documents and uniform, and gave me a few names in Tumen which I had to remember and to whom on behalf of Mr. Andrei Andreivich Vysotsky I should address myself.

“Your Excellency understands that nobody assumes any responsibility for your safety.  You just must be in touch with the people,” he said, “and be ready for what you were told to do, as we must have a man in Tumen.  If I may suggest, you should not speak or act like a gentleman.”

I decided to joke a bit with Goroshkin:  “Go to hell, you old fool,” I said, “you damned plotter,” and then I kicked a chair.