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“Overcome with sorrow, my father retired from the army, and took me to live in a gloomy old house in the Njazlov at Warsaw. While we were leading a somewhat secluded existence the revolutionary movement sprang up in Poland; the people commenced their struggle for freedom, and the propaganda took root with alarming rapidity. My father, a loyal subject of the Czar, believed that his warmest friend, Serge Orselska, held views similar to his own, but, as I afterwards discovered, he was mistaken. This half-brother was a scheming scoundrel, who having allied himself with the Terrorists, determined upon making it a lucrative business by becoming a police spy, so that he could give secret information regarding the conspirators. In this he had more than one object in view. My father had occasion to travel to Petersburg on business connected with his estate, and remained there several weeks. On the day following his return to Warsaw the grand coup was made, and the Czar was assassinated by a bomb thrown at his sleigh. The world was convulsed. My father, honest loyalist that he was, regarded this action of the Nihilists most unfavourably.

“Yet as soon as Alexander the Third had succeeded the dead Emperor my poor father was arrested, conveyed to Petersburg, and charged with being implicated in the assassination! Though the accusation was utterly unfounded, the perjured evidence was much against him. He was found guilty, and condemned to Siberian hard labour for life. I was in Court and heard sentence pronounced. Ah! Grand Dieu! Shall I ever forget that day?

“He was despatched with a convoy of prisoners to Asia, but on the way endeavoured to escape, and was shot dead. It was the new Czar who was responsible for my beloved father’s death; he was his murderer! and I swore it should be avenged, even if my own life were sacrificed in the attempt. Then I went to live under the guardianship of Serge Orselska, who, hearing my vow, admitted that he was a Nihilist, and persuaded me to take the oath to the Executive. I did so, and, confident of success, swore that I would make three attempts to remove the Autocrat of the Russias, adding, as a stipulation, that if none were successful the oath should be removed. Thus I developed into an enthusiastic and patriotic Terrorist. Bent upon avenging my father’s wrongs, I was prepared to go to any length, and to follow the examples of Jessy Helfman and Sophia Perovskaia in order to accomplish my object.”

“Fancy, you – a Nihilist!” I said, incredulously in abject astonishment.

“Yes, and I was not idle either. The schemes of our Circle having matured sufficiently to allow me to make the first attempt, I did so. We were living in Petersburg at the time, and although everything appeared to favour me, the plot failed at the last moment. The police, however grew suspicious, and we were compelled to fly from Russia. My uncle – who had assumed the name of Hertzen – and I, travelled first to Paris, and for a couple of years led a wandering life, visiting nearly all the European capitals. I devoted to the Cause a large portion of the fortune left me by my father, and was looked upon by the members of the Circle as one who would probably be successful in effecting our purpose. If I did, I told myself it would be but a life for a life. I believed that a terrible victory would be obtained by the Party, and saw everything in a rose-coloured light.”

Notwithstanding the overwhelming passion which filled her heart, and revealed itself painfully in spite of her, in her face, and her voice, she tried to speak slowly and calmly. There was an expression of indescribable suffering, too, around her mouth and in her eyes, which told me that this chapter of her life she would have hidden forever, if she could.

“Then it was during these wanderings that we met?” I said.

“Exactly. Fate brought us together in Genoa just as we were arranging the second attempt. I was in sore need of a friend, and – why should I hesitate to admit it – when first we met, I loved you. But, cruel Fate! mine has been a love which has almost brought death to you,” she faltered.

“How?”

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Детективы / Исторический детектив / Шпионский детектив / Проза / Проза о войне