The temporary prison called by Boolba "St. Basil," was made up of four blocks of buildings. All save one were built of grey granite1, and presented, when seen from the courtyard below, tiers of little windows set with monotonous2 regularity3 in discoloured walls. The fourth was evidently also of granite, but at some recent period an attempt had been made to cover its forbidding facade4 with plaster. The workmen had wearied of their good intent and had left off when their labours were half finished, which gave the building the gruesome appearance of having been half skinned. Flush with the four sides of the square was an open concrete trench5, approached at intervals6 by flights of half a dozen stone steps leading to this alley-way.
Malcolm Hay was pushed down one of these, hurried along the alley-way, passing a number of mailed iron doors, and as many barred windows, and was halted before one of the doors whilst the warder who all the time smoked a cigar, produced a key. The door was unlocked, and Hay was thrust in. Malinkoff followed. The door slammed behind them, and they heard the "click-clock" of the steel lock shooting to its socket7.
The room was a medium-sized apartment, innocent of furniture save for a table in the centre of the room and a bench which ran round the walls. Light came from a small window giving a restricted view of the courtyard and a barred transom above the doorway8. An oblong slit9 of ground glass behind which was evidently an electric globe served for the night.
There were two occupants of the room, who looked up, one--a grimy, dishevelled priest--blankly, the other with the light of interest in his eyes.
He sat in his shirt-sleeves, his coat being rolled up to serve as a pillow. Above the "bed" hung a Derby hat--an incongruous object. He was short, stout10, and fresh coloured, with a startling black moustache elaborately curled at the ends and two grey eyes that were lined around with much laughter. He walked slowly to the party and held out his hand to Malcolm.
"Welcome to the original Bughouse," he said, and from his accent it was impossible to discover whether he was American or English. "On behalf of self an' partner, we welcome you to Bughouse Lodge11. When do you go to the chair--he's due to-day," he jerked his thumb at the crooning priest. "I can't say I'm sorry. So far as I am concerned he's been dead ever since they put him here."
Malcolm recognized the little man in a flash. It was his acquaintance of London.
"You don't remember me," smiled Malcolm, "but what is your particular crime?"
The little man's face creased12 with laughter.
"Shootin' up Tcherekin," he said tersely13, and Malinkoff's eyebrows14 rose.
"You're--Beem--is that how you pronounce it?"
"Bim," said the other, "B-I-M. Christian15 name Cherry--Cherry Bim; see the idea? Named after the angels. Say, when I was a kid--I've got a photograph way home in Brooklyn to prove it--I had golden hair in long ringlets!"
"This is the American who held up Tcherekin and nearly got away with ten million roubles," he said.
Cherry Bim had taken down his Derby and had adjusted it at the angle demanded by the circumstances.
"That's right--but I didn't know they was roubles. I _should_ excite my mentality17 over waste paper! No, we got word that it was French money."
"There was another man in it?" said Malinkoff, lighting18 a cigarette--there had been no attempt to search them.
"Don't let that match go out!" begged Cherry Bim, and dug a stub from his waistcoat pocket. "Yes," he puffed19, "Isaac Moskava--they killed poor old Issy. He was a good feller, but too--too--what's the word when a feller falls to every dame20 he meets?"
"Impressionable?" suggested Malcolm.
"That's the word," nodded Cherry Bim; "we'd got away with twenty thousand dollars' worth of real sparklers in Petrograd. They used to belong to a princess, and we took 'em off the lady friends of Groobal, the Food Commissioner21, and I suggested we should beat it across the Swedish frontier. But no, he had a girl in Moscow--he was that kind of guy who could smell patchouli a million miles away."
Malcolm gazed at the man in wonderment.
"Do I understand that you are a--a----" He hesitated to describe his companion in misfortune, realizing that it was a very delicate position.
"I'm a cavalier of industry," said Cherry Bim, with a flourish.
"Chevalier is the word you want," suggested Malcolm, responding to his geniality22.
"It's all one," said the other cheerfully. "It means crook23, I guess? Don't think," he said seriously, "don't you think that I'm one of those cheap gun-men you can buy for ten dollars, because I'm not. It was the love of guns that brought me into trouble. It wasn't trouble that brought me to the guns. I could use a gun when I was seven," he said. "My dad--God love him!--lived in Utah, and I was born at Broke Creek24 and cut my teeth on a '45. I could shoot the tail-feathers off a fly's wing," he said. "I could shoot the nose off a mosquito."
It was the deceased Isaac Moskava who had brought him to Russia, he said. They had been fellow fugitives25 to Canada, and Isaac, who had friends in a dozen Soviets26, had painted an entrancing picture of the pickings which were to be had in Petrograd. They worked their way across Canada and shipped on a Swedish barque, working their passage before the mast. At Stockholm Issy had found a friend, who forwarded them carriage paid to the capital, whereafter things went well.
"Have you got any food?" asked Cherry Bim suddenly. "They starve you here. Did you ever eat _schie_? It's hot water smelling of cabbage."
"Have you been tried?" asked Malinkoff, and the man smiled.
"Tried!" he said contemptuously. "Say, what do you think's goin' to happen to you? Do you think you'll go up before a judge and hire a lawyer to defend you? Not much. If they try you, it's because they've got something funny to tell you. Look here."
He leapt up on to the bench with surprising agility27 and stood on tiptoe, so that his eyes came level with a little grating in the wall. The opening gave a view of another cell.
"Look," said Cherry Bim, stepping aside, and Malcolm peered through the opening.
At first he could see nothing, for the cell was darker than the room he was in, but presently he distinguished28 a huddled29 form lying on the bench, and even as he looked it was galvanized to life. It was an old man who had leaped from the bench mumbling30 and mouthing in his terror.
"I am awake! I am awake!" he screamed in Russian. "_Gospodar_, observe me! I am awake!"
His wild yells shrunk to a shrill31 sobbing32, and then, with a long sigh, he climbed back to the bench and turned his back to the wall. Malcolm exchanged glances with Malinkoff, who had shared the view.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Come down and I'll tell you. Don't let the old man hear you speak--he's frightened."
"What did he say?" he asked curiously33.
Malcolm repeated the words, and Cherry Bim nodded.
"I see. I thought they were stuffing me when they told me, but it's evidently true. He's a Jew," he went on. "Do you think them guys don't kill Jews? Don't you make any mistake about that--they'll kill anybody. This old man has a daughter or a granddaughter, and one of the comrades got fresh with him, so poor old Moses--I don't know his name but he looks like the picture of Moses that we had in our Bible at home--shot at this fellow and broke his jaw34, so they sent him to be killed in his sleep."
"In his sleep?" repeated Malcolm incredulously, and Cherry Bim nodded.
"That's it," he said. "So long as he's awake they won't kill him--at least they say so. I guess when his time comes they'll settle him, asleep or awake. The poor old guy thinks that so long as he's awake he's safe--do you get me?"
"It's hellish!" said Malcolm between his teeth. "They must be devils."
"Oh, no, they're not," said Cherry Bim. "I've got nothing on the Soviets. I bet the fellow that invented that way of torturing the old man thinks he's done a grand bit of work. Say, suppose you turned a lot of kids loose to govern the United States, why Broadway would be all cluttered35 up with dead nursery maids and murdered governesses. That's what's happening in Russia. They don't mean any harm. They're doing all they know to govern, only they don't know much--take no notice of his reverence36, he always gets like this round about meal times."
The voice of the black-coated priest grew louder. He stood before the barred window, crossing himself incessantly37.
"It is the celebration of the Divine Mystery," said Malinkoff in a low voice, and removed his cap.
"For our holy fathers the high priests Basil the Great, Gregory the Divine, Nicholas of Myra in Lycia, for Peter and Alexis and Jonas, and all holy high priests," groaned38 the man, "for the holy wonder workers, the disinterested39 Cosmas and Damiauns, Cyrus and John, Pantaleon and Hermolaus, and all unmercenary saints...!
"By the intercession of these, look down upon us, O God!"
He walked back to his seat and, taking compassion40 upon this man with a white, drawn41 face, Malcolm went to him.
"Little father," he said, "is there anything we can do for you?"
He produced his cigarette case, but the pope shook his head.
"There is nothing, my son" he replied in a weary voice, which he did not raise above one monotonous tone, "unless you can find the means of bringing Boolba to this cell. Oh, for an hour of the old life!" He raised his hand and his voice at the same moment, and the colour came to his cheeks. "I would take this Boolba," he said, "as holy Ivan took the traitors42 before the Kremlin, and first I would pour boiling hot water upon him and then ice cold water, and then I would flay43 him, suspending him by the ankles; then before he was dead I would cut him in four pieces----"
"Phew!" said Malcolm, and walked away.
"Did you expect to find a penitent44 soul?" asked Malinkoff dryly. "My dear fellow, there is very little difference between the Russian of to-day and the Russian of twelve months ago, with this exception, that the men who had it easy are now having it hard, and those who had to work and to be judged are now the judges."
Malcolm said nothing. He went to the bench and making himself as comfortable as possible he lay down. It was astounding45 that he could be, as he was, accustomed to captivity46 in the space of a few hours. He might have lived in bondage47 all his life, and he would be prepared to live for ever so long as--he did not want to think of the girl, that sweeper of Boolba's.
As to his own fate he was indifferent. Somehow he believed that he was not destined48 to die in this horrible place, and prayed that at least he might see the girl once more before he fell a victim to the malice49 of the ex-butler.
To his agony of mind was added a more prosaic50 distress--he was ravenously51 hungry, a sensation which was shared by his two companions.
"I've never known them to be so late," complained Cherry Bim regretfully. "There's usually a bit of black bread, if there's nothing else."
He walked to the window and, leaning his arms on the sill, looked disconsolately52 forth53.
"Hi, Ruski!" he yelled at some person unseen, and the other inmates54 of the room could see him making extravagant55 pantomime, which produced nothing in the shape of food.
It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and Malcolm was dozing56, when they heard the grate of the key in the lock and the slipping of bolts, then the door opened slowly. Malcolm leapt forward.
"Irene--your Highness!" he gasped57.
The girl walked into the cell without a word, and put the big basket she had been carrying upon the table. There was a faint colour in the face she turned to Malcolm. Her hands were outstretched to him, and he caught them in his own and held them together.
"Poor little girl!"
She smiled.
"Mr. Hay, you have made good progress in your Russian since I met you last," she said. "General Malinkoff, isn't it?"
The general stood strictly58 to attention, his hand at his cap--a fact which seemed to afford great amusement to the gaoler who stood in the doorway, and who was an interested spectator.
"It was Boolba's idea that I should bring you food," said the girl, "and I have been ordered to bring it to you every day. I have an idea that he thinks"--she stopped--"that he thinks I like you," she went on frankly59, "and of course that is true. I like all people who fly into danger to rescue distressed60 females," she smiled.
"Can anything be done for you?" asked Malcolm in a low voice. "Can't you get away from this place? Have you no friends?"
She shook her head.
"I have one friend," she said, "who is in even greater danger than I--no, I do not mean you. Mr. Hay"--she lowered her voice--"there may be a chance of getting you out of this horrible place, but it is a very faint chance. Will you promise me that if you get away you will leave Russia at once?"
He shook his head.
"You asked me that once before, your Highness," he said. "I am less inclined to leave Russia now than I was in the old days, when the danger was not so evident."
"Highness"--it was the priest who spoke61--"your magnificence has brought me food also? Highness, I served your magnificent father. Do you not remember Gregory the priest in the cathedral at Vladimir?"
She shook her head.
"I have food for you, father," she said, "but I do not recall you."
"Highness" he spoke eagerly and his eyes were blazing, "since you go free, will you not say a prayer for me before the miraculous62 Virgin63? Or, better still, before the tomb of the holy and sainted Dimitry in the cathedral of the Archangel! And, lady," he seized her hand in entreaty64, "before the relics65 of St. Philip the Martyr66 in our Holy Cathedral of the Assumption."
Gently the girl disengaged her arm.
"Father, I will pray for you," she said. "Good-bye!" she said to Malcolm, and again extended both her hands, "till to-morrow!"
Malcolm raised the hands to his lips, and stood like a man in a dream, long after the door had slammed behind her.
"Gee67!" said the voice of Cherry Bim with a long sigh. "She don't remember me, an' I don't know whether to be glad or sorry--some peach!"
Malcolm turned on him savagely68, but it was evident the man had meant no harm.
"She is a friend of mine," he said sharply.
"Sure she is," said the placid69 Cherry, unpacking70 the basket, "and the right kind of friend. If this isn't caviare! Say, shut your eyes, and you'd think you were at Rectoris."
收听单词发音 |
1
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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facade
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| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
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trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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tersely
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| adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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soviets
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| 苏维埃（Soviet的复数形式） | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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cluttered
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| v.杂物，零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 )；乱糟糟地堆满，把…弄得很乱；（以…） 塞满… | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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flay
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| vt.剥皮；痛骂 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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ravenously
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| adv.大嚼地，饥饿地 | |
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disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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66
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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