Part 6 (1/2)

”And the children?”

He was silent, looking down upon her. He began to realize the helplessness of her plight. In a strange land, she found herself without friends, and charged with the support of two children.

The money he had given her she had invested in a house, through Rosenblatt, who insisted that payments were still due. No wonder he had terrified her into submission to his plans.

While his contempt remained, her husband's rage grew less. After a long silence he said, ”Listen. This feast will last two days?”

”Yes, there is food and drink for two days.”

”In two days my work here will be done. Then I go back. I must go back. My children! my children! what of my children? My dead Olga's children!” He began to pace the room. He forgot the woman on the floor. ”Oh, fatherland! My fatherland!” he cried in a voice broken with pa.s.sionate grief, ”must I sacrifice these too for thee? G.o.d in heaven! Father, mother, brother, home, wife, all I have given. Must I give my children, too?” His strong dark face was working fiercely. His voice came harsh and broken. ”No, no! By all the saints, no! I will keep my children for Olga's sake. I will let my wretched country go. What matter to me? I will make a new home in this free land and forget. Ah, G.o.d! Forget? I can never forget!

These plains!” He tore aside the quilt from the window and stooping looked out upon the prairie. ”These plains say Russia! This gleaming snow, Russia! Ah! Ah! Ah! I cannot forget, while I live, my people, my fatherland. I have suffered too much to forget. G.o.d forget me, if I forget!” He fell on his knees before the window, dry sobs shaking his powerful frame. He rose and began again to stride up and down, his hands locked before him. Suddenly he stood quite still, making mighty efforts to regain command of himself. For some moments he stood thus rigid.

The woman, who had been kneeling all the while, crept to his feet.

”My lord will give his children to me,” she said in a low voice.

”You!” he cried, drawing back from her. ”You! What could you do for them?”

”I could die for them,” she said simply, ”and for my lord.”

”For me! Ha!” His voice carried unutterable scorn.

She cowered back to the floor.

”My children I can slay, but I will leave them in no house of l.u.s.t.”

”Oh!” she cried, clasping her hands upon her breast and swaying backwards and forwards upon her knees, ”I will be a good woman.

I will sin no more. Rosenblatt I shall send--”

”Rosenblatt!” cried the man with a fierce laugh. ”After two days Rosenblatt will not be here.”

”You will--?” gasped the woman.

”He will die,” said the man quietly.

”Oh, my lord! Let me kill him! It would be easy for me at night when he sleeps. But you they will take and hang. In this country no one escapes. Oh! Do not you kill him. Let me.”

Breathlessly she pleaded, holding him by the feet. He spurned her with contempt.

”Peace, fool! He is for none other than me. It is an old score.

Ah, yes,” he continued between his teeth, ”it is an old score.

It will be sweet to feel him slowly die with my fingers in his throat.”

”But they will take you,” cried the woman.

”Bah! They could not hold me in Siberia, and think you they can in this land? But the children,” he mused. ”Rosenblatt away.” With a sudden resolve he turned to the woman. ”Woman,” he said, in a voice stern and low, ”could you--”

She threw herself once more at his feet in a pa.s.sion of entreaty.

”Oh, my lord! Let me live for them, for them--and--for you!”