Читать книгу The Green Book; Or, Freedom Under the Snow - Mór Jókai - Страница 7

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On the way back to Ghedimin Palace naturally nothing was spoken of by the members of the hunt but the exciting scene to which they had just been witness.

"Parole d'honneur," said the clean-shaven horseman, as he struck his riding-boot with his whip, "the whole world is turned upside down! In the time of the Empress Elizabeth, if any woman had allowed herself to insult a Princess Ghedimin in that manner, she would have had her tongue cut out and have been punished with the knout."

"This is what we have to thank exaggerated philanthropy for! It was never created for us. Voltairianism will be the ruin of the nation. How can Araktseieff suffer it?"

"The woman is no Russian?"

"Perhaps some English or German here to spite us, and who has placed herself under the protection of the Embassy? By Jove! in 1816, when I was last at home, such a thing would not have been permitted!"

"These cursed foreigners! Anyway, if the president of the police does not take the matter in hand, we will administer the knout ourselves. I swear your presence alone withheld me just now, Princess Maria Alexievna!"

"Indeed! You do not know who the woman is."

"What does it matter who she is? She may even be a princess."

"She is more than that."

"Then some expatriated queen, perhaps from Georgia."

"Silence!" said the lady, as she gave a warning look in the direction of the girl riding at her other side.

"She does not understand German. So the woman is really a queen?"

At this question the lady laughed heartily.

"Really a queen! A true queen! A reigning queen—an absolute monarch! We all are her slaves; you, I, even Alexis Maximovitch. A queen who is not to be driven out of her kingdom by means of cannon, but with this!" and she held out to her companion the whistle of her shattered riding-whip.

"What! an actress?"

"Of course. What else should she be?"

"Ha, ha, ha! To whom the whistle means a revolution; whose throne is upset by hisses! Ah, Maria Alexievna, present me with this whistle. With it I will fight for you, as a knight sans peur et sans reproche."

The lady resigned the fatal weapon, so efficacious in the downfall of stage potentates, to her cavalier, as the latter lifted her out of her saddle in the portico of the Ghedimin Palace.

He then kissed her hand. She kissed him on the cheek, and, taking the young girl by the hand, she passed through a treble glass door and ascended the broad frescoed staircase within.

Here the hunting-party broke up, making rendezvous at the opera that evening.

Now the silent, bestarred gentleman, who had hitherto not mixed in the conversation, slapping the clean-shorn one on the back with the flat of his hand, said:

"Nicholas Sergievitch, a word with you. Come along with me."

"At your service, Alexis Maximovitch."

And together they rode off to the Araktseieff Palace.

There are no old palaces in St. Petersburg. The whole city only dates back a century and a half. The palace of the favorite official of the Czar is situated on the Nevski Prospect, and is built more for comfort than for elegance. During the winter the whole building is heated throughout with hot-air pipes; every window has treble cases; the floors of the rooms are of parquetry.

The two huntsmen said nothing until they had refreshed themselves with hot tea seasoned with arak and a curious compound of cayenne and cantharides. A tiny portion on the point of a knife of this latter warms one's frozen limbs. In any other climate it were poison.

The great man whom we now recognize from the name of his palace, Araktseieff, first locking the door of the room they were in, pushed up a rocking-chair to the fireplace for his guest, gave him a chibouque, and himself took up his station before the fire.

"Hark ye, Nicholas Sergievitch, put the whistle you received from the Princess just now among your treasures, and when you want to blow it go out into the woods. That is my advice to you. For if you carry out what you have sworn to the Princess you will find yourself next day on the road to Irkutsk, and, by Heaven! I can't say when you will be coming back."

"The devil!"

"You see, the Czar is of opinion that he can create a hundred noblemen such as you in an hour; but singers such as Zeneida Ilmarine are to be met with but once in the century."

"Ah! So this mysterious stranger is Zeneida Ilmarine, the far-famed Simarosa heroine? All honor to her! I take my pipe out of my mouth as I speak her revered name! When I made my promise to Princess Ghedimin, I had no idea whom it concerned. This absolves me from my oath. Against the 'divine' Zeneida one may not revolt, even to please the 'angelic' Maria Alexievna. Rather raise the standard against the whole army of legitimate rulers! What a fool I was! The excessive cold must have frozen my wits like quicksilver in a thermometer. Of course, I had heard abroad that the diva was a protégée of the Czar and Czarina, and, moreover, the beloved of the brave Ivan Maximovitch. From the dialogue in which the two ladies indulged, I might have gathered that it was a meeting between wife and lady-love."

"Now you must devise a way to find favor with both. Favor with the wife, as with the sweetheart."

"Easy as kiss your hand. I have only to tell one about the other."

"That may succeed with the wife, for she is outspoken, straightforward, and passionate. With the favorite, however, it may be more difficult; for she understands how to play as many parts in real life as on the stage. And your office it will be to find out which is the real one."

"That I will do—as sure as my name is Galban."

"Well, Chevalier Galban, you may imagine that it is a matter of some importance which has induced us to call you back from Versailles, where you were to us as eyes and ears are to man. You have there learned, in masterly fashion, how to unravel the most secret diplomatic webs by means of a woman's heart, yourself the while remaining unscathed. Now you must carry out your masterwork at home."

"What, Holy Russia has secrets which her police and the priests are unable to fathom?"

"My dear Chevalier Galban, our good Chulkin has enough to do to catch thieves, and is not too successful in that department. I counsel you, if your sledge be stopped on the way home from the club at night, give the thief your purse quietly, for if you call the watch the soldiers will ease you of your fur coat into the bargain. If, on the other hand, you fall into the hands of a policeman, he will not only clear you out, but the thief too. As for the priests, they count for nothing to our people, who are atheists."

"Have we come to that?"

"Yes; to that. General Kutusoff did well to say, when our forces came back from the French War, 'The best thing the Czar could do would be to drown the whole expedition in the Baltic.' They were all indoctrinated to a man with liberalism, and have infected the entire army. I assure you that many a young officer carries 'The Catechism of a Free Man' and 'A Scheme of Constitutional Monarchy' about with him in his coat-pocket."

"How do they get hold of them?"

"They must have a secret press."

"They have been allowed to play with freedom too long."

"That were the least danger. As long as we allowed them the game of freemasonry, all was open and above board. At the court balls they would talk in the presence of the Czar himself of freedom, and debate over the rights of the people and the emancipation of serfs. That was all academical discussion. But when the masonic lodges were closed, and the insignia sold by auction in the Jews' market on the Appraxin Dwor, the secret evil grew worse and worse. The freemasonry of Mamonoff, of a sudden, took five or six different forms. One called itself a 'General Betterment Society,' Orloff at its head. Another was 'Szojusz Spacinia,' a third 'The Confederation of Patriots,' a fourth 'Szojusz Blagadenztoiga.' There is another constituted under the title of 'Republic of the Eight Slav Races'; its members wear an eight-pointed star as a token, the inscription on one of the points being Hungary. They grow like mushrooms."

"Ridiculous! Even in my time there were clubs where secret meetings were held. But there was no talk then of danger to the State. If certain much-wronged husbands had no complaint to make, the police might let us go scot-free."

"That is not the case now," answered Araktseieff, impatiently. (It was his habit, when receiving secret visits in his own house, to keep a sword-stick in his hand, with which he would incessantly prod screens, walls, and hangings, as though ever suspecting listeners; and did he perceive that his visitor had a bulging pocket-handkerchief or note-book, he would prod that, too, to discover what was there.) "They are about everywhere, and yet nowhere to be traced. They give each other rendezvous at balls, concerts, wine-parties, etc., and so contrive to give our spies the slip. Why, they actually keep a register, a sort of parliamentary hand-book, in which the conferences of every distant province are entered concerning the organizing of a systematic revolution throughout Russia; the best form of constitution; what is to become of the dynasty; how the empire is to be partitioned, and whether to be represented by landed proprietors or the people. And this protocol it is which contains a fully named register of the conspirators, those who hold the threads of the net in their hands throughout the whole land, from the shores of the Black Sea to the Arctic Pole. Among themselves they call it 'the green book.' Now, where is this book? That is the question."

"To which I reply by a counter-question. But do not keep on so incessantly prodding my coat-pockets with that sharp stiletto of yours. Has any one seen this book—and, if seen, why has he not said where he has seen it?"

"That I will tell you, too. The conspirators are divided into three classes. The first are 'Brethren.' To this community any one may belong, on his introducer making himself responsible for him; they know nothing beyond the fact that they are members of a conspiracy, and have the right to attend meetings. The second class are called 'Men.' They are trusty people, who, on a certain watchword being given them, are authorized to act. You may reckon one-third of the officers in the army as belonging to this class. They cannot betray anything beyond their own individual names and the work given them to do. Then we come to the third class, the 'Bojars,' and leaders of the whole affair. It is extremely difficult to get in among them; and those who do belong to them do not betray one iota."

"Are they married men? Have they no wives—no mistresses?"

"That question occurred to me long ago. It is no new discovery that women are the best mediums for discovering secrets. Bright eyes and diamonds can cast light into many a dark corner—that is an old story! That 'the green book' is in the custody of some woman is unquestionable; but, so far, with all our espionage, we have reached no further. We were informed that Orloff's mistress was the possessor of 'the green book,' and paid down enormous sums for the information. And what did we find? A pack of scandalous anecdotes of St. Petersburg society, all of which, moreover, were known to us before. Then we got on another scent. 'The green book' was in the keeping of the 'Martinists,' whose president had a lady-love—faithfulness itself. In her case all our bribes were useless. So one night we had her surprised in her room, bound, the boards of the floor raised, and actually there was found a 'green book.' But it contained nothing but atheistic theses. What was the use of them? People may rebel against the Deity, but not against the Czar! At length we received secret information that the heart of the conspiracy is that league which calls itself 'The Northern Union'—its head Prince Ghedimin."

"The devil!"

"Yes, my friend; the next in succession to the throne! He it is who must hold possession of 'the green book,' or who has had it in his keeping. To whom should a man confide so dangerous a treasure but to his own wife? But the husband, we are told, always wore the key of the iron chest in which the book was guarded round his neck. Father Hilary attacked the Princess on the religious side, and persuaded her to remove the key from her husband's neck when he lay unconscious in typhus fever. She must have had many sins to atone for. Anyway, she did commit the small piece of treachery, and I passed a whole night studying 'the green book' obtained from Ghedimin."

"Well?"

"Well, having carefully gone through it, I flung it to the other end of the room. The book was filled with dangerous doctrines—nothing more. Pure abstract reasoning, philosophical treatises, and the like, but no single name of any member. What care I for the utterances of Seneca, Rousseau, Saint-Just? What I want to know is what the Muravieffs and Turgenieffs are talking about. That, too, was a mere piece of trickery. That cunning Ghedimin did not trust his wife. He gave her a book to keep which the Censor—had she betrayed him—would readily have condemned to be burned, but for which the President of Secret Police would have grudged the oil consumed in the reading."

"Then, if the real 'green book' is not to be found in his wife's keeping, it must be in that of his lady-love—and that lady-love is Zeneida?"

"Right."

"Is she a foreigner?"

"No; a subject. A Finnish girl from Helsingfors; and especially favored by the Czar, because she has triumphed over the pride of the Empire—Catalani. The Czarina, too, is very gracious to her. You know that the Czar is a great music-lover, and will not suffer the school of Cimarosa and Paisiello to be set aside by the modern school of Rossini. Zeneida Ilmarine does not sing a note of Rossini. At all hours she is admitted to the imperial family. How often have I—ay, and even the Grand Duke Nicholas—had to kick our heels in the antechamber while she was having audience? At the court soirées she is treated like any reigning princess; she alone is privileged to wear in her hair a white rose, the Czarina's favorite flower. It is entirely due to the magic of her voice that the Finnish students of Helsingfors escaped being sent off in a body to Kiew after the rebellion; for she can intercede as effectually as she can sing. The Czar would have raised her to the rank of a duchess, but what do you think the spoiled diva said? 'Would your Majesty wish to degrade me?'"

"And is this the woman who could take part in a conspiracy against the Czar?"

"Why not? if the leader of that conspiracy be sweet upon her, a Prince Ghedimin, the most powerful among Russia's twelve ruling families, the number of whose serfs and estates more than equals the whole kingdom of Würtemberg. Do not forget, moreover, that she is a 'Kalevaine.'"

"What are the proofs of this suspicion?"

"I have already told you that the conspirators are marvellously clever in eluding detection. It is not their way to creep into obscure corners or subterranean caves; they rather hold their meetings in the midst of crowds and in public places. This is a wrinkle they have learned from the Poles, among whom the 'Philaretes' and 'Vendita' usually meet at their yearly fairs. Now the fast is at hand. For seven weeks every public amusement is forbidden, that the people may see that great folks do penance as well as themselves. High and low must attend the services of the Church. But no one asks what takes place o' nights behind closed doors. This is the harvest-time for secret meetings. The invited guests have no political proclivities; they have no wish to found constitutions; their sole idea is to enjoy a good dinner—'Anti-fasters' they call themselves. Surprised by the police, all that would be discovered would probably be a table spread with appetizing game or steaming roast-beef, and, maybe, a few guests the worse for liquor. The 'sinners' would, of course, be fined, but no one would be the wiser of what was taking place in the more private apartments. And here our prima donna has peculiar advantages. The stage, as you know, makes its own laws. Who in the world expects to find strict morality among actresses and ballet-dancers? The police wisely shut their eyes to much that goes on among them. He who is lucky enough to be an invited guest to one of Zeneida Ilmarine's exclusive Carême soirées will find all the frivolous beauties of the opera and ballet, all the jeunesse dorée of St. Petersburg, assembled, and will have no need to complain of either the lack of fiery eyes or fiery wines. Many a man has been singed by them. But if he be wise enough to keep his head in the midst of the tumult, he will observe a certain portion of the company disappear gradually and noiselessly from the reception-rooms."

"There may be other reasons for such disappearance."

"Certainly. For instance, roulette may be carried on in those private apartments. Now, the Czar has issued a severe prohibition against roulette-playing—any one caught in the act is sent straight off to Siberia, without possibility of remission of sentence. It is a fact that Zeneida's calumniators, especially among the women who are envious of her, have circulated the report that she keeps a roulette bank, which enables her to indulge in all her lavish luxury. I hold a different opinion."

"Upon what grounds?"

"That Michael Turgenieff is a constant guest at these theatrical soirées, and is one of those who at midnight disappear into the inner apartments. Now, Michael Turgenieff is a philosopher and a puritan."

"Even philosophers have their lucid intervals, induced by combined charms of pretty women and good wine."

"We know Michael better. I have had my eye upon him ever since his Demi-Decemvir. He was the only one among his young companions who did not give way to any of the modern forms of debauchery. In his travels through England, France, and Germany, he only sought out great writers and men of mind and genius; he was never to be found in fashionable or vicious haunts. Not even in Paris, where vice and pleasure reign supreme. What, then, should possess him to secretly worship here at the altar of false gods? No; the presence of this one man alone is sufficient to betray that those closed doors conceal other than Eleusinian mysteries."

"And it has, so far, been impossible to discover them?"

"No sooner does Zeneida, taking the Duke's arm, leave the company than it assumes the aspect of a revel. Beauty and folly take possession of men's senses, and next day not one of them can recall anything but that they have had a jolly evening. If a 'Brother' try to follow a 'Bojar' in his retreat, he is surrounded by sirens, who lure him back by a conspiracy of charms. In order to let diamond cut diamond, and so conquer the high-priestess of the mysteries herself, it needs just such a conquering hero as you are."

"Very flattering for me! When shall I make a beginning?"