“Speak, Galitch.”

The Prince did as she said.

“Annouchka had a brother, Vlassof, an engineer on the Kasan line, whom the Strike Committee had ordered to take out a train as the only means of escape for the leaders of the revolutionary troops when Trebassof’s soldiers, aided by the Semenowsky regiment, had become masters of the city.  The last resistance took place at the station.  It was necessary to get started.  All the ways were guarded by the military.  There were soldiers everywhere!  Vlassof said to his comrades, ‘I will save you;’ and his comrades saw him mount the engine with a woman.  That woman was — well, there she sits.  Vlassof’s fireman had been killed the evening before, on a barricade; it was Annouchka who took his place.  They busied themselves and the train started like a shot.  On that curved line, discovered at once, easy to attack, under a shower of bullets, Vlassof developed a speed of ninety versts an hour.  He ran the indicator up to the explosion point.  The lady over there continued to pile coal into the furnace.  The danger came to be less from the military and more from an explosion at any moment.  In the midst of the balls Vlassof kept his usual coolness.  He sped not only with the firebox open but with the forced draught.  It was a miracle that the engine was not smashed against the curve of the embankment.  But they got past.  Not a man was hurt.  Only a woman was wounded.  She got a ball in the chest.”

“There!” cried Annouchka.

With a magnificent gesture she flung open her white and heaving chest, and put her finger on a scar that Gounsovski, whose fat began to melt in heavy drops of sweat about his temples, dared not look at.

“Fifteen days later,” continued the prince, “Vlassof entered an inn at Lubetszy.  He didn’t know it was full of soldiers.  His face never altered.  They searched him.  They found a revolver and papers on him.  They knew whom they had to do with.  He was a good prize.  Vlassof was taken to Moscow and condemned to be shot.  His sister, wounded as she was, learned of his arrest and joined him.  ’I do not wish,’ she said to him, ‘to leave you to die alone.’  She also was condemned.  Before the execution the soldiers offered to bandage their eyes, but both refused, saying they preferred to meet death face to face.  The orders were to shoot all the other condemned revolutionaries first, then Vlassof, then his sister.  It was in vain that Vlassof asked to die last.  Their comrades in execution sank to their knees, bleeding from their death wounds.  Vlassof embraced his sister and walked to the place of death.  There he addressed the soldiers:  ’Now you have to carry out your duty according to the oath you have taken.  Fulfill it honestly as I have fulfilled mine.  Captain, give the order.’  The volley sounded.  Vlassof remained erect, his arms crossed on his breast, safe and sound.  Not a ball had touched him.