Midnight. The last tramcar has long since dragged its battered1 carcass back to the depot2. The moon lays its cold light on the windowsill and spreads a luminous3 coverlet on the bed, leaving the rest of the room in semi-darkness. At the table in the corner under a circle of light shed by the desk lamp sits Rita bent4 over a thick notebook, her diary. The sharp point of her pencil traces the words:
May 24
"I am making another attempt to jot5 down my impressions. Again there is a big gap. Six weeks have passed since I made the last entry. But it cannot be helped.
"How can I find time for my diary? It is past midnight now, and here I am still writing. Sleep eludes6 me. Comrade Segal is leaving us: he is going to work in the Central Committee. We were all very much upset by the news. He is a wonderful person, our Lazar Alexandrovich. I did not realise until now how much his friendship has meant to us all. The dialectical materialism7 class is bound to go to pieces when he leaves. Yesterday we stayed at his place until the wee hours verifying the progress made by our 'pupils'. Akim, the Secretary of the Komsomol Gubernia Committee, came and that horrid8 Tufta as well. I can't stand that Mr. Know-All! Segal was delighted when his pupil Korchagin brilliantly defeated Tufta in an argument on Party history.
Yes, these two months have not been wasted. You don't begrudge9 your efforts when you see such splendid results. It is rumoured10 that Zhukhrai is being transferred to the Special Department of the Military Region. I wonder why.
"Lazar Alexandrovich turned his pupil over to me. 'You will have to complete what I have begun,'
he said. 'Don't stop halfway11. You and he, Rita, can learn a great deal from each other. The lad is still rather disorganised. His is a turbulent nature and he is apt to be carried away by his emotions. I feel that you will be a most suitable guide for him, Rita. I wish you success. Don't forget to write me in Moscow.'
"Today a new secretary for the Solomensky District Committee was sent down from the Central Committee. His name is Zharky. I knew him in the army.
"Tomorrow Dmitri Dubava will bring Korchagin. Let me try to describe Dubava. Medium height, strong, muscular. Joined the Komsomol in 1918, and has been a Party member since 1920. He was one of the three who were expelled from the Komsomol Gubernia Committee for having belonged to the 'Workers' Opposition12'. Instructing him has not been easy. Every day he upset the programme by asking innumerable questions and making us digress from the subject. He and Olga Yureneva, my other pupil, did not get along at all. At their very first meeting he looked her up and down and remarked: 'Your get-up is all wrong, old girl. You ought to have trousers with leather seats, spurs, a Budyonny hat and a sabre. This way you're neither fish nor fowl13.'
"Olga wouldn't stand for that, of course, and I had to interfere14. I believe Dubava is a friend of Korchagin's. Well enough for tonight. It's time for bed."
The earth wilted15 under the scorching16 sun. The iron railing of the footbridge over the railway platforms was burning to the touch. People, limp and exhausted17 from the heat, climbed the bridge wearily; most of them were not travellers, but residents of the railway district who used the bridge to get to the town proper.
As he came down the steps Pavel caught sight of Rita. She had reached the station before him and was watching the people coming off the bridge. Pavel paused some three paces away from her. She did not notice him, and he studied her with new-found interest. She was wearing a striped blouse and a short dark-blue skirt of some cheap material. A soft leather jacket was slung18 over her shoulder. Her sun-tanned face was framed in a shock of unruly hair and as she stood there with her head thrown slightly back and her eyes narrowed against the sun's glare, it struck Korchagin for the first time that Rita, his friend and teacher, was not only a member of the bureau of the Komsomol Gubernia Committee, but....
Annoyed with himself for entertaining such "sinful" thoughts, he called to her.
"I've been staring at you for a whole hour, but you didn't notice me," he laughed. "Come along, our train is already in."
They went over to the service door leading to the platform.
The previous day the Gubernia Committee had appointed Rita as its representative at a district conference of the Komsomol, and Korchagin was to go as her assistant.
Their immediate19 problem was to board the train, which was by no means a simple task. The railway station on those rare occasions when the trains ran was taken over by an all-powerful Committee of Five in charge of boarding and without a permit from this body no one was allowed on the platform. All exits and approaches to the platform were guarded by the Committee's men. The overcrowded train could take on only a fraction of the crowd anxious to leave, but no one wanted to be left behind to spend days waiting for a chance train to come through. And so thousands stormed the platform doors in an effort to break through to the unattainable carriages. In those days the station was literally20 besieged21 and sometimes pitched battles were fought.
After vainly attempting to push through the crowd collected at the platform entrance, Pavel, who knew all the ins and outs at the station, led Rita through the luggage room. With difficulty they made their way to coach No. 4. At the carriage door a Cheka man, sweating profusely22 in the heat, was trying to hold back the crowd, and repeated over and over again:
"The carriage's full, and it's against the rules to ride on the buffers23 or the roof."
Irate24 people bore down on him, waving tickets issued by the Committee under his nose. There were angry curses, shouts and violent jostling at every carriage. Pavel saw that it would be impossible to board the train in the conventional manner. Yet board it they must, otherwise the conference would have to be called off.
Taking Rita aside, he outlined his plan of action: he would push his way inside, open a window and help her to climb in. There was no other way.
"Let me have that jacket of yours. It's better than any credential."
He slipped on the jacket and stuck his revolver into the pocket so that the grip and cord showed.
Leaving the bag with Rita, he went over to the carriage, elbowed through the knot of excited passengers at the entrance and gripped the handrail.
"Hey, Comrade, where you going?"
Pavel glanced nonchalantly over his shoulder at the stocky Cheka man.
"I'm from the Special Department. I want to see whether all the passengers in this carriage have tickets issued by the Committee," he said in a tone that left no doubt as to his authority.
The Cheka man glanced at Pavel's pocket, wiped his perspiring25 brow with his sleeve and said wearily:
"Go ahead if you can shove yourself in."
Working with his hands, shoulders, and here and there with his fists, holding on to the ledges26 of the upper berths28 to climb over the passengers who had planted themselves on their belongings29 in the middle of the passage, Pavel made his way through to the centre of the carriage, ignoring the torrent30 of abuse that rained down on him from all sides.
"Can't you look where you're going, curse you!" screamed a stout31 woman when Pavel accidentally brushed her knee with his foot, as he lowered himself to the floor. She had contrived32 to wedge her 18-stone bulk onto the edge of a seat and had a large vegetable oil can between her knees. All the shelves were stuffed with similar cans, hampers33, sacks and baskets. The air in the carriage was suffocating34.
Paying no heed35 to the abuse, Pavel demanded: "Your ticket, please!"
"My what!" the woman snapped back at the unwelcome ticket-collector.
A head appeared from the uppermost berth27 and an ugly voice boomed out: "Vaska, what's this 'ere mug want. Give 'im a ticket to kingdom come, will ya?"
The huge frame and hairy chest of what was obviously Vaska swung into view right above Pavel's head and a pair of bloodshot eyes fixed36 him with a bovine37 stare.
"Leave the lady alone, can't ya? What d'ye want tickets for?"
Four pairs of legs dangled38 from an upper side berth; their owners sat with their arms around one another's shoulders noisily cracking sunflower seeds. One glance at their faces told Pavel who they were: a gang of food sharks, hardened crooks39 who travelled up and down the country buying up food and selling it at speculative40 prices.
Pavel had no time to waste with them. He had to get Rita inside somehow.
"Whose box is this?" he inquired of an elderly man in railway uniform, indicating a wooden chest standing41 under the window.
"Hers," replied the other, pointing to a pair of thick legs in brown stockings.
The window had to be opened and the box was in the way. Since there was nowhere to move it Pavel picked it up and handed it to its owner who was seated on an upper berth.
"Hold it a moment, please, I'm going to open the window."
"Keep your hands off my things!" screamed the flat-nosed wench when he placed the box on her knees.
"Motka, what's this feller think he's doin'?" she said to the man seated beside her. The latter gave Pavel a kick in the back with his sandalled foot.
"Lissen 'ere, you! Clear out of here before I punch your nose!"
Pavel endured the kick in silence. He was too busy unfastening the window.
"Move aside, please," he said to the railwayman.
Shifting another can out of the way Pavel cleared a space in front of the window. Rita was on the platform below. Quickly she handed him the bag. Throwing it onto the knees of the stout woman with the vegetable oil can, Pavel bent down, seized Rita's hands and drew her in. Before the guard had time to notice this infringement42 of the rules, Rita was inside the carriage, leaving the guard swearing belatedly outside. The gang of toughs met Rita's appearance with such an uproar43 that she was taken aback. Since there was not even standing room on the floor, she found a place for her feet on the very edge of the lower berth and stood there holding on to the upper berth for support.
Foul44 curses sounded on all sides. From above the ugly bass45 voice croaked46:
"Look at the swine, gets in himself and drags his broad in after 'im!"
A voice from above squeaked47: "Motka, poke48 him one between the eyes!"
The woman was doing her best to stand her wooden box on Pavel's head. The two newcomers were surrounded by a ring of evil, brutish faces. Pavel was sorry that Rita had to be exposed to this but there was nothing to be done but to make the best of it.
"Move your sacks and make room for the comrade," he said to the one they called Motka, but the answer was a curse so foul that he boiled with rage. The pulse over his right eyebrow49 began to throb50 painfully. "Just wait, you scoundrel, you'll answer for this," he said to the ruffian, but received a kick on the head from above.
"Good for you, Vaska, fetch 'im another!" came approving cries from all sides.
Pavel's self-control gave way at last, and as always in such moments his actions became swift and sure.
"You speculating bastards51, you think you can get away with it?" he shouted, and hoisting52 himself agilely53 on to the upper berth, he sent his fist smashing against Motka's leering face. The speculator went tumbling onto the heads of the other passengers.
"Clear out of here, you swine, or I'll shoot down the whole lot of you!" Pavel yelled, waving his revolver under the noses of the four.
The tables were turned. Rita watched closely, ready to shoot if anyone attacked Korchagin. The upper berth-quickly cleared. The gang hastily withdrew to the neighbouring compartment54.
As he helped Rita up to the empty berth, Pavel whispered:
"You stay here, I'm going to see about those fellows."
Rita tried to stop him. "You're not going to fight them, are you?"
"No," he reassured55 her. "I'll be back soon."
He opened the window again and climbed out onto the platform. A few minutes later he was talking to Burmeister of the Transport Cheka, his former chief. The Lett heard him out and then gave orders to have the entire carriage cleared and the passengers' papers checked.
"It's just as I said," growled56 Burmeister. "The trains are full of speculators before they get here."
A detail of ten Cheka men cleared the carriage. Pavel, assuming his old duties, helped to examine the documents of the passengers. He had not broken all ties with his former Cheka comrades and in his capacity as secretary of the Komsomol he had sent some of the best Komsomol members to work there. When the screening was over, Pavel returned to Rita. The carriage was now occupied by a vastly different type of passenger: Red Army men and factory and office workers travelling on business.
Rita and Pavel had the top berth in one corner of the carriage, but so much of it was taken up with bundles of newspapers that there was only room for Rita to lie down.
"Never mind," she said, "we'll manage somehow."
The train began to move at last. As it slid slowly out of the station they caught a brief glimpse of the fat woman seated on a bundle of sacks on the platform and heard her yelling:
"Hey Manka, where's my oil can gone?"
Sitting in their cramped57 quarters with the bundles of newspapers shielding them from their neighbours, Pavel and Rita munched58 bread and apples and laughingly recalled the far from laughable episode with which their journey had begun.
The train crawled along. The old, battered and overloaded59 carriage creaked and groaned60 and trembled violently at every joint61 in the track. The deep blue twilight62 looked in at the windows.
Then night came, folding the carriage in darkness.
Rita was tired and she dozed63 with her head resting on the bag. Pavel sat on the edge of the berth and smoked. He too was tired but there was no room to lie down. The fresh night breeze blew through the open window.
Rita, awakened64 by a sudden jolt65, saw the glow of Pavel's cigarette in the darkness. It was just like him to sit up all night rather than cause her discomfort66.
"Comrade Korchagin! drop those bourgeois67 conventions and lie down," she said lightly.
Pavel obediently lay down beside her and stretched his stiff legs luxuriously68.
"We have heaps of work tomorrow. So try and get some sleep, you rowdy." She put her arm trustingly around his neck and he felt her hair touching69 his cheek.
To Pavel, Rita was sacred. She was his friend and comrade, his political guide. Yet she was a woman as well. He had first become aware of this over there at the footbridge, and that was why her embrace stirred him so much now. He felt her deep even breathing; somewhere quite close to him were her lips. Proximity70 awoke in him a powerful desire to find those lips, and it was only with a great effort of will that he suppressed the impulse.
Rita, as if divining his feelings, smiled in the darkness. She had already known the joy of passion and the pain of loss. She had given her love to two Bolsheviks.
Whiteguard bullets had robbed her of both. One had been a splendid giant of a man, a Brigade Commander; the other, a lad with clear blue eyes.
Soon the regular rhythm of the wheels rocked Pavel to sleep and he did not wake until the engine whistled shrilly71 the next morning.
Work kept Rita occupied every day until late at night and she had little time for her diary. After an interval72 a few more brief entries appeared:
August 11
"The gubernia conference is over. Akim, Mikhailo and several others have gone to Kharkov for the all-Ukraine conference, leaving all the paper work to me. Dubava and Pavel have been sent to work at the Gubernia Committee. Ever since Dmitri was made secretary of the Pechorsk District Committee he has stopped coming to lessons. He is up to his neck in work. Pavel tries to do some studying, but we don't get much done because either I am too busy or else he is sent off on some assignment. With the present tense situation on the railways the Komsomols are constantly being mobilised for work. Zharky came to see me yesterday. He complained about the boys being takenaway from him, says he needs them badly himself."
August 23
"I was going down the corridor today when I saw Korchagin standing outside the manager's office with Pankratov and another man. As I came closer I heard Pavel say:
" 'Those fellows sitting there ought to be shot. "You've no right to countermand74 our orders," he says. "The Railway Firewood Committee is the boss here and you Komsomols had better keep out of it." You ought to have seen his mug.... And the place is infested75 with parasites76 like him!' He followed this up with some shocking
language. Pankratov caught sight of me and nudged him. Pavel swung round and when he saw me he turned pale and walked off without meeting my eyes.
He won't be coming around for a long while now. He knows I will not tolerate bad language."
August 27
"We had a closed meeting of the bureau. The situation is becoming serious. I cannot write about it in detail just yet. Akim came back from the regional conference looking very worried. Yesterday another supply train was derailed. I don't think I shall try to keep this diary any more. It is much too haphazard77 anyway. I am expecting Korchagin. I saw him the other day and he told me he and Zharky are organising a commune of five."
One day while at work in the railway shops Pavel was called to the telephone. It was Rita. She happened to be free that evening and suggested that they finish the chapter they had been studying — the reasons for the fall of the Paris Commune.
As he approached Rita's house on University Street that evening, Pavel glanced up and saw a light in her window. He ran upstairs, gave his usual brief knock on the door and went in. There on the bed, where none of the young comrades were allowed even to sit for a moment, lay a man in uniform. A revolver, knapsack and cap with the red star lay on the table. Rita was sitting beside the stranger with her arms clasped tightly around him. The two were engaged in earnest conversation and as Pavel entered Rita looked up with a radiant face.
The man freed himself from her embrace and rose.
"Pavel," said Rita shaking hands with him, "this is ...."
"David Ustinovich," the man said, clasping Korchagin's hand warmly.
"He turned up quite unexpectedly," Rita explained with a happy laugh.
Pavel shook hands coldly with the newcomer and a gleam of resentment78 flashed in his eyes. He noticed the four squares of a Company Commander on the sleeve of the man's uniform.
Rita was about to say something but Pavel interrupted her. "I just dropped in to tell you that I shall be busy loading wood down at the wharves79 this evening," he said.
"And anyhow you have a visitor. Well, I'll be off, the boys are waiting for me downstairs."
And he disappeared through the door as suddenly _ as he had come. They heard him hurrying down the stairs. Then the outside door slammed and all was quiet.
"There's something the matter with him," Rita faltered80 in answer to David's questioning look.
Down below under the bridge an engine heaved a deep sigh, exhaling81 a shower of golden sparks from its mighty82 lungs. They soared upward executing a fantastic dance and were lost in the smoke.
Pavel leaned against the railing and stared at the coloured signal lights winking83 on the switches.
He screwed up his eyes.
"What I don't understand, Comrade Korchagin, is why it should hurt so much to discover that Rita has a husband? Has she ever told you she hadn't? And even if she has, what of it? Why should you take it like that? You thought, Comrade, it was all platonic84 friendship and nothing else. ... How could you have let this happen?" he asked himself with bitter irony85. "But what if he isn't her husband? David Ustinovich might be her brother or her uncle.... In which case you've done the chap an injustice86, you fool. You're no better than any other swine. It's easy enough to find out whether he's her brother or not. Suppose he turns out to be a brother or an uncle, how are you going to face her after the way you've behaved? No, you've got to stop seeing her!"
The scream of an engine whistle interrupted his reflections.
"It's getting late. Time to be going home. Enough of this nonsense."
At Solomenka, as the district where the railway workers lived was called, five young men set up a miniature commune. They were Zharky, Pavel, Klavicek, a jolly fair-haired Czech, Nikolai Okunev, secretary of the railway-yards Komsomol, and Stepan Artyukhin, a boiler87 repairman who was now working for the railway Cheka.
They found a room and for three days spent all their free time cleaning, painting and whitewashing88. They dashed back and forth89 with pails so many times that the neighbours thought the house was on fire. They made themselves bunks90, and mattresses91 filled with maple92 leaves gathered in the park, and on the fourth day the room, with a portrait of Petrovsky and a huge map on the wall, literally shone with cleanliness.
Between the windows was a shelf piled high with books. Two crates94 covered with cardboard served for chairs, another larger crate93 did duty as a cupboard. In the middle of the room stood a huge billiard table, minus the cloth, which the room's inmates95 had carried on their shoulders from the warehouse96. By day it was used as a table and at night Klavicek slept on it. The five lads fetched all their belongings, and the practical-minded Klavicek made an inventory97 of the commune's possessions. He wanted to hang it up on the wall but the others objected. Everything in the room was declared common property. Earnings98, rations99 and occasional parcels from home were all divided equally; the sole items of personal property were their weapons. It was unanimously decided100 that any member of the commune who violated the law of communal101 ownership or who betrayed his comrades' trust would be expelled from the commune. Okunev and Klavicek insisted that expulsion should be followed by eviction102 from the room, and the motion was carried.
All the active members of the District Komsomol came to the commune's house-warming party. A gigantic samovar was borrowed from the next-door neighbour. The tea party consumed the commune's entire stock of saccharine103. After tea, they sang in chorus and their lusty young voices rocked the rafters:
The whole wide world is drenched104 with tears,
In bitter toil105 our days are passed,
But, wait, the radiant dawn appears....
Talya Lagutina, the girl from the tobacco factory, led the singing. Her crimson106 kerchief had slipped to one side of her head and her eyes, whose depths none as yet had fathomed107, danced with mischief108. Talya had a most infectious laugh and she looked at the world from the radiant height of her eighteen years. Now her arm swept up and the singing poured forth like a fanfare109 of trumpets110:
Spread, our song, o'er the world like a flood,Proudly our flag waves unfurled.
It burns and glows throughout the world,On fire from our heart's blood.
The party broke up late and the silent streets awoke to the echo of their young voices.
The telephone rang and Zharky reached for the receiver.
"Keep quiet, I can't hear anything!" he shouted to the noisy Komsomols who had crowded in the Secretary's office.
The hubbub111 subsided112 somewhat.
"Hullo! Ah, it's you. Yes, right away. What's on the agenda? Oh, the same old thing, hauling firewood from the wharves. What's that? No, he's not been sent anywhere.
He's here. Want to speak to him? Just a minute."
Zharky beckoned113 to Pavel.
"Comrade Ustinovich wants to speak to you," he said and handed him the receiver.
"I thought you were out of town," Pavel heard Rita's voice say. "I happen to be free this evening.
Why don't you come over? My brother has gone. He was just passing through town and decided to look me up. We haven't seen each other for two years."
Her brother!
Pavel did not hear any more. He was recalling that unfortunate evening and the resolve he had taken that night down on the bridge. Yes, he must go to her this evening and put an end to this.
Love brought too much pain and anxiety with it. Was this the time for such things?
The voice in his ear said: "Can't you hear me?"
"Yes, yes. I hear you. Very well. I'll come over after the Bureau meeting." And he hung up.
He looked her straight in the eyes and, gripping the edge of the oak table, he said: "I don't think I'll be able to come and see you any more." He saw her thick eyelashes sweep upward at his words.
Her pencil paused in its flight over the page and then lay motionless on the open pad.
"Why not?"
"It's very hard for me to find the time. You know yourself we're not having it so easy just now. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we'll have to call it off...."
He was conscious that the last few words sounded none too firm.
"What are you beating about the bush for?" he raged inwardly. "You haven't the courage to strike out with both fists."
Aloud he went on: "Besides, I've been wanting to tell you for some time — I have difficulty in grasping your explanations. When we studied with Segal what I learned stayed in my head somehow, but with you it doesn't. I've always had to go to Tokarev after our lessons and get him to explain things properly. It's my fault — my noodle just can't take it. You'll have to find some pupil with a bit more brains."
He turned away from her searching gaze, and, deliberately115 burning all his bridges, added doggedly116: "So you see it would just be a waste of time for us to continue."
Then he got up, moved the chair aside carefully with his foot and looked at the bowed head and the face that turned pale in the light of the lamp. He put on his cap.
"Well, good-bye, Comrade Rita. Sorry I've wasted so much of your time. I ought to have told you long before this. That's where I'm to blame."
Rita mechanically gave him her hand, but she was too stunned117 by his sudden coldness to say more than a few words.
"I don't blame you, Pavel. If I haven't succeeded in finding some way of making things clear to you I deserve this."
Pavel walked heavily to the door. He closed it after him softly. Downstairs he paused for a moment — it was not too late to go back and explain.... But what was the use? For what? To hear her scornful response and find himself outside again? No.
Graveyards118 of dilapidated railway carriages and abandoned engines grew on the sidings. The wind whirled and scattered119 the dry sawdust in the deserted120 woodyards.
And all around the town in the forest thickets121 and deep ravines lurked122 Orlik's band. By day they lay low in surrounding hamlets or in wooded tracts123, but at night they crept out onto the railway tracks, tore them up ruthlessly and, their evil work done, crawled back again into their lair124.
And many an iron steed went crashing down the railway embankment. Boxcars were smashed to smithereens, sleepy humans were flattened125 like pancakes beneath the wreckage126, and precious grain mingled127 with blood and earth.
The band would swoop128 down suddenly on some small town scattering129 the frightened, clucking hens in all directions. A few shots would be fired at random130. Outside the building of the Volost Soviet131 there would be a brief crackle of rifle fire, like the sound of bracken underfoot, and the bandits would dash about the village on their well-fed horses cutting down everyone who crossed their path. They hacked132 at their victims as calmly as if they were splitting logs. Rarely did they shoot, for bullets were scarce.
The band would be gone as swiftly as it had come. It had its eyes and ears everywhere. Those eyes saw through the walls of the small white building that housed the Volost Soviet, for invisible threads led from the priest's house and the kulaks' cottages to the forest thickets. Cases of ammunition133, chunks134 of fresh pork, bottles of bluish raw spirit went the same way, also news that was whispered into the ears of the lesser135 atamans and then passed on by devious136 routes to Orlik himself.
Though it consisted of no more than two or three hundred cutthroats, the band had so far eluded137 capture. It would split up into several small units and operate in two or three districts simultaneously138. It was impossible to catch all of them. Last night's bandit would next day appear as a peaceful peasant pottering in his garden, feeding his horse or standing at his gate puffing139 smugly at his pipe and watching the cavalry140 patrols ride by with a sly look in his eyes.
Alexander Puzyrevsky with his regiment141 chased the bandits up and down the three districts with dogged persistence142. Occasionally he did succeed in treading on their tail; a month later Orlik was obliged to withdraw his gangs from two of the districts, and now he was hemmed143 in on a narrow strip of territory.
Life in the town jogged along at its customary pace. Noisy crowds swarmed144 its five markets. Two impulses dominated the milling throngs145 — to grab as much as possible, and to give as little as possible. This environment offered unlimited146 scope for the energy and abilities of all manner of sharks and swindlers. Hundreds of slippery individuals with eyes that expressed everything but honesty snooped about among the crowds. All the scum of the town gathered here like flies on a dunghill, moved by a single purpose: to hoodwink the gullible147. The few trains that came this way spewed out gobs of sack-laden people who made at once for the markets.
At night the market places were deserted, and the dark rows of booths and stalls looked sinister148 and menacing.
It was the bold man who would venture after dark into this desolate149 quarter where danger lurked behind every stall. And often by night a shot would ring out like the clang of a hammer on iron, and some throat would choke on its own blood. And by the time the handful of militiamen from the nearest beats would reach the spot (they did not venture out alone) they would find nothing but the mutilated corpse150. The killers151 had taken to their heels and the commotion152 had swept away the few nocturnal habitués of the market square like a gust73 of wind. Opposite the market place was the "Orion" cinema. The street and pavement were flooded with electric light and people crowded around the entrance. Inside the hall the movie projector153 clicked, flashing melodramatic love scenes onto the screen; now and then the film snapped and the operator stopped the projector amid roars of disapproval154 from the audience.
In the centre of the town and on the outskirts155 life appeared to be taking its usual course. Even in the Gubernia Committee of the Party, the nerve centre of revolutionary authority, everything was quiet. But this was merely an outward calm.
A storm was brewing156 in the town. Many of those who came there from various directions, with their army rifles plainly visible under their long peasant overcoats, were aware of its coming. So did those who under the guise157 of food speculators arrived on the roofs of trains, but instead of carrying their sacks to the market took them to carefully memorised addresses.
These knew. But the workers' districts, and even Bolsheviks, had no inkling of the approaching storm.
Only five Bolsheviks in town knew what was being plotted.
Closely co-operating with foreign missions in Warsaw, the remnants of Petlyura's bands which the Red Army had driven into White Poland were preparing to take part in the uprising. A raiding force was being formed of what remained of Petlyura's regiments158.
The central committee of the insurgents159 had an organisation160 in Shepetovka; it consisted of forty-seven members, most of them former active counter-revolutionaries whom the local Cheka had trustingly left at liberty.
Father Vasili, Ensign Vinnik, and Kuzmenko, a Petlyura officer, were the leaders of the organisation. The priest's daughters, Vinnik's father and brother, and a man named Samotinya who had wormed his way into the office of the Executive Committee did the spying.
The plan was to attack the frontier Special Department by night with hand grenades, release the prisoners and, if possible, seize the railway station.
Meanwhile officers were being secretly concentrated in the city which was to be the hub of the uprising, and bandit gangs were being moved into the neighbouring forests. From here, contact with Rumania and with Petlyura himself was maintained through trusted agents.
Fyodor Zhukhrai, in his office at the Special Department, had not slept for six nights. He was one of the five Bolsheviks who were aware of what was brewing. The ex-sailor was now experiencing the sensation of the big game hunter who has tracked down his prey161 and is now waiting for the beast to spring.
He dare not shout or raise the alarm. The bloodthirsty monster must be slain162. Then and then only would it be possible to work in peace, without having to glance fearfully behind every bush. The beast must not be scared away. In a life and death struggle such as this it is endurance and firmness that win the day.
The crucial moment was at hand. Somewhere in the town amidst the labyrinth163 of conspiratorial164 hide-outs the time had been set: tomorrow night.
But the five Bolsheviks who knew decided to strike first. The time was tonight.
The same evening an armoured train slid quietly out of the railway yards and the massive gates closed as quietly behind it.
Coded telegrams flew over the wires and in response to their urgent summons the alert and watchful165 men to whom the republic's security had been entrusted166 took immediate steps to stamp out the hornet's nests.
Akim telephoned to Zharky.
"Cell meetings in order? Good. Come over here at once for a conference and bring the Party District Committee Secretary with you. The fuel problem is worse than we thought. We'll discuss the details when you get here." Akim spoke167 in a firm, hurried voice.
"This firewood business is driving us all potty," Zharky growled back into the receiver.
Litke drove the two secretaries over to headquarters at breakneck speed. As they ascended168 the stairs to the first floor they saw at once that they had not been summoned here to talk about firewood.
On the office manager's desk stood a machine-gun and gunners from the Special Task Unit were busy beside it. Silent guards from the town's Party and Komsomol organisations stood in the corridors. Behind the wide doors of the Secretary's office an emergency session of the Bureau of the Party Gubernia Committee was drawing to a close.
Through a fanlight giving onto the street wires led to two field telephones. There was a subdued169 hum of conversation in the room. Akim, Rita and Mikhailo were there, Rita in a Red Army helmet, khaki skirt, leather jacket with a heavy Mauser strapped170 on to it — the uniform she used to wear at the front when she had been Company political Instructor171.
"What's all this about?" Zharky asked her in surprise.
"Alert drill, Vanya. We're going to your district right away. We are to meet at the Fifth Infantry172 School. The Komsomols are going there straight from their cell meetings. The main thing is to get there without attracting attention."
The grounds of the old military school with its giant old oaks, its stagnant173 pond overgrown with burdock and nettles174 and its broad unswept paths were wrapped in silence.
In the centre of the grounds behind a high white wall stood the school building, now the premises175 of the Fifth Infantry School for Red Army commanders. It was late at night. The upper floor of the building was dark. Outwardly all was serene176, and the chance passerby177 would have thought that the school's inmates were asleep. Why, then, were the iron gates open, and what were those two dark shapes like monster toads178 standing by the entrance? The people who gathered here from all parts of the railway district knew that the school's inmates could not be asleep, once a night alert had been given. They were coming straight from their Komsomol and Party cell meetings where the brief announcement had been made; they came quietly, individually, in pairs, never more than three together, and each of them carried the Communist Party or Komsomol membership card, without which no one could pass through the iron gates.
The assembly hall, where a large crowd had already gathered, was flooded with light. The windows were heavily curtained with thick canvas tenting. The Bolsheviks who had been summoned here stood about calmly smoking their homemade cigarettes and cracking jokes about the precautions taken for a drill. No one felt this was a real alert; it was being done to maintain discipline in the special task detachments. The seasoned soldier, however, recognised the signs of a genuine alert as soon as he entered the schoolyard. Far too much caution was being displayed.
Platoons of students were lining179 up outside to whispered commands. Machine-guns were being carried quietly into the yard and not a chink of light showed in any of the windows of the building.
"Something serious in the wind, Mityai?" Pavel Korchagin inquired of Dubava, who was sitting on a windowsill next to a girl Pavel remembered seeing a couple of days before at Zharky's place.
Dubava clapped Pavel good-humouredly on the shoulder.
"Getting cold feet, eh? Never mind, we'll teach you fellows how to fight. You don't know each other, do you?" he nodded toward the girl. "This is Anna, don't know her second name, she's in charge of the agitation180 and propaganda centre."
The girl thus introduced regarded Korchagin with interest and pushed back a wisp of hair that had escaped from under her violet kerchief. Korchagin's eyes met hers and for a moment or two a silent contest ensued. Her sparking jet-black eyes under their sweeping181 lashes114 challenged his.
Pavel shifted his gaze to Dubava. Conscious that he was blushing, he scowled182. "Which of you does the agitating183?" he inquired forcing a smile.
At that moment there was a stir in the hall. A Company Commander climbed onto a chair and shouted: "Members of the first company, line up. Hurry, Comrades, hurry!"
Zhukhrai entered with the Chairman of the Gubernia Executive Committee and Akim. They had just arrived. The hall was now filled from end to end with people lined up in formation.
The Chairman of the Gubernia Executive Committee stepped onto the mounting of a training machine-gun and raised his hand.
"Comrades," he said, "you have been summoned here on an extremely serious and urgent matter.
What I am going to tell you now could not have been told even yesterday for security reasons.
Tomorrow night a counterrevolutionary uprising is scheduled to break out in this and other towns of the Ukraine. The town is full of Whiteguard officers. Bandit units have been concentrated all around the town. Part of the conspirators184 have penetrated185 into the armoured car detachment and are working there as drivers. But the Cheka has uncovered the plot in good time and we are putting the entire Party and Komsomol organisations under arms. The first and second Communist battalions186 will operate together with the military school units and Cheka detachments. The military school units have already gone into action. It is now your turn, Comrades. You have fifteen minutes to get your weapons and line up. Comrade Zhukhrai will be in command of the operation. The unit commanders will take their orders from him. I need hardly stress the gravity of the situation. Tomorrow's insurrection must be averted188 today."
A quarter of an hour later the armed battalion187 was lined up in the schoolyard.
Zhukhrai ran his eye over the motionless ranks. Three paces in front of them stood two men girded with leather belts: Battalion Commander Menyailo, a foundry worker, a giant of a man from the Urals, and beside him Commissar Akim. To the left were the platoons of the first company, with the company commander and political instructor two paces in front. Behind them stood the silent ranks of the Communist battalion, three hundred strong. Fyodor gave the signal. "Time to begin."
The three hundred men marched through the deserted streets.
The city slept.
On Lvovskaya Street, opposite Dikaya, the battalion broke ranks.
Noiselessly they surrounded the buildings. Headquarters was set up on the steps of a shop.
An automobile189 came speeding down Lvovskaya Street from the direction of the centre, its headlights cutting a bright path before it. It pulled up sharply in front of the battalion command post.
Hugo Litke had brought his father this time. The commandant sprang out of the car, throwing a few clipped Lettish sentences over his shoulder to his son. The car leapt forward and disappeared in a flash around the bend of the road. Litke, his hands gripping the steering190 wheel as though part of it, his eyes glued to the road, drove like a devil. Yes, there was need of Litke's wild driving tonight. He was hardly likely to get two nights in the guardhouse for speeding now!
And Hugo flew down the streets like a meteor.
Zhukhrai, whom young Litke drove from one end of town to the other in the twinkling of an eye, remarked approvingly: "If you don't knock anyone down tonight you'll get
a gold watch tomorrow."
Hugo was jubilant. "I thought I'd get ten days in jail for that corner...."
The first blows were struck at the conspirators' headquarters. Before long groups of prisoners and batches191 of documents were being delivered to the Special Department.
In house No. 11 on Dikaya Street lived one Zurbert who, according to information in possession of the Cheka, had played no small part in the Whiteguard plot. The lists of the officers' units that were to operate in the Podol area were in his keeping.
Litke senior himself came to Dikaya Street to make the arrest. The windows of Zurbert's apartment looked out onto a garden which was separated from a former nunnery by a high wall. Zurbert was not at home. The neighbours said that he had not been seen at all that day. A search was made and, the lists of names and addresses were found, together with a case of hand grenades.
Litke, having ordered an ambush192 to be set, lingered for a moment in the room to examine the papers.
The young military school student on sentry193 duty in the garden below could see the lighted window from the corner of the garden where he was stationed. It was a little frightening to stand there alone in the dark. He had been told to keep an eye on the wall. The comforting light seemed very far from his post. And to make matters worse, the moon kept darting194 behind the clouds. In the night the bushes seemed to be invested with a sinister life of their own. The young soldier stabbed at the darkness around him with his bayonet. Nothingness.
"Why did they put me here? No one could climb that wall anyhow, it's far too high. I think I'll go over to the window and peep in." Glancing up again at the wall, he emerged from his dank, fungus-smelling corner. As he came up to the window, Litke picked up the papers from the table.
At that moment a shadow appeared on top of the wall whence both the sentry by the window and the man inside the room were clearly visible. With catlike agility195 the shadow swung itself onto a tree and dropped down to the ground. Stealthily it crept up to its victim. A single blow and the sentry was sprawled196 on the ground with a naval197 dirk driven up to the hilt into his neck.
A shot rang out in the garden galvanising the men surrounding the block. Six of them ran toward the house, their steps ringing loudly in the night. Litke sat slumped198 forward over the table, the blood pouring from the wound in his head. He was dead. The window pane199 was shattered. But the assassin had not had time to seize the documents.
Several more shots were heard behind the nunnery wall. The murderer had climbed over the wall to the street and was now shooting his way out, trying to escape by way of the Lukyanov vacant lot. But a bullet cut short his flight.
All night long the searches continued. Hundreds of people not registered in the books of the house committees and found in possession of suspicious documents and carrying weapons were dispatched to the Cheka, where a commission was at work screening the suspects.
Here and there the conspirators fought back. During the search in a house on Zhilyanskaya Street Anton Lebedev was killed by a shot fired point-blank.
The Solomenka battalion lost five men that night, and the Cheka lost Jan Litke, that staunch Bolshevik and faithful guardian200 of the republic.
But the Whiteguard uprising was nipped in the bud.
That same night Father Vasili with his daughters and the rest of the gang were arrested in Shepetovka.
The tension relaxed. But soon a new enemy threatened the town: paralysis201 of the railways, which meant starvation and cold in the coming winter.
Everything now depended on grain and firewood.
午夜。最后一辆电车早已拖着破旧的车厢回库了。淡淡的月光照着窗台，也照在床上，像是铺了一条浅蓝色的床单。
房间的其他地方仍旧是黑糊糊的，只有墙角的桌子上点着台灯，射出一圈亮光。丽达低着头，在一本厚厚的笔记本上写日记。
削得尖尖的铅笔迅速移动着：
５月２４日
我又想把自己的一些印象记下来。前面又是一段空白，一个半月过去了，一个字也没有写，只好就这样空着了。
哪里找得出时间来写日记呢？现在夜已深了，我才能坐下来写。一点睡意也没有。谢加尔同志就要调到中央委员会去工作。知道这个消息后，大家都很难过。他真是我们的好同志。现在我才体会到，他和大家的友谊是多么深厚，多么宝贵。谢加尔一走，辩证唯物主义学习小组自然就要散了。昨天我们在他那里一直待到深夜，检查了我们的“辅导对象”的学习成绩。共青团省委书记阿基姆也来了，还有那个令人讨厌的登记分配部部长图夫塔。这个万事通简直叫人受不了！谢加尔高兴极了，因为谈到党史的时候，他的学生柯察金把图夫塔驳得哑口无言。的确，这两个月的时间没有白费。既然学习效果这么好，付出的心血就不可惜了。听说朱赫来要调到军区特勤部去工作。为什么要调动，我不知道。
谢加尔把他的学生交给了我。
“您替我接着带下去吧，”他说。“不要半途而废。丽达，无论是您，还是他，都有值得互相学习的地方。这个年轻人还没有摆脱自发性。他还是凭着他那奔放的感情生活的，而这种旋风似的感情常常使他走弯路。丽达，根据我对您的了解，您会是他的一个最合适的指导员。我祝你成功。别忘了给我往莫斯科去信。”临别的时候，他对我这样说。
团中央新委派的索洛缅卡区委书记扎尔基今天来了。在部队里我就认识他。
明天德米特里·杜巴瓦带柯察金来学习。现在我把杜巴瓦描写一下。他中等身材，身强力壮，肌肉很发达。一九一八年入团，一九二○年入党。他是因为参加“工人反对派”而被开除出共青团省委的三个委员当中的一个。辅导他学习可真不容易。每天他都打乱计划，向我提出一大堆不着边际的问题。他同我的另一个学生奥莉加·尤列涅娃经常发生争执。
第一次学习的那天晚上，他就把奥莉加从头到脚打量一番，说：“我说老太婆，你的军装不齐全。还缺皮裆马裤、马刺、布琼尼帽和马刀，就现在这样文不文武不武的，像什么样！”
奥莉加也不示弱，我只好从中调解。杜巴瓦可能是柯察金的朋友。今天就写这些，该睡觉了。
骄阳似火，烤得大地懒洋洋的。车站天桥的铁栏杆晒得滚烫。热得无精打采的人们慢腾腾地向上走着。这些人不是旅客，多半是从索洛缅卡铁路工人区到城里去的。
保尔从天桥上边的台阶上看见了丽达。她已经先到了，正在下面看着从天桥上走下来的人群。
保尔走到丽达旁边，离她还有两三步，就站住了。她没有发觉他。保尔怀着一种少有的好奇心观察她。丽达穿着一件条纹衬衫，下面是蓝布短裙，一件柔软的皮夹克搭在肩膀上。蓬松的头发衬托着她那晒得黝黑的脸庞。丽达站在那里，微微仰着头，强烈的阳光照得她眯起了眼睛。保尔还是第一次用这样的眼光观察他的这位朋友和老师，也是第一次突然意识到，丽达不仅是团省委的一名常委，而且……但是，他立即抓住了自己的“恶念”，责备这种念头很荒唐，于是赶紧招呼她：“我已经整整看了你一个钟头，你还没有看见我。该走了吧，火车已经进站了。”
他们走到了通站台的通勤口。
昨天，省委决定派丽达代表省委去出席一个县的团代表大会，让保尔协助她工作。他们今天必须乘车出发。这可不是一件容易的事。因为车次太少，发车的时候，车站就由掌握全权的五人小组控制。没有这个小组发的通行证，任何人都无权进站。所有的进出口全由这个小组派出的值勤队把守着。一列火车就是挤破车厢，也只能运走十分之一急着上路的旅客。谁也不愿意等下一趟车，因为行车时间没有准儿，说不定一等就是几天。几千个人都往检票口拥，都想冲过去，挤到眼巴巴等了很久的绿色车厢里去。这些日子，车站被围得水泄不通，到处是人，常常发生扭打的事。
保尔和丽达挤来挤去，怎么也进不了站台。
保尔对车站的情况很熟悉，知道所有的进出通道，他就领丽达从行李房进了站台。费了好大劲，总算挤到了四号车厢跟前。车门前乱哄哄地拥着一堆人，一个热得满头大汗的肃反工作人员拦住车门，上百次地重复着一句话：“不是跟你们说了吗？车厢里挤得满满的了。车厢的连接板上和车顶上不许站人，这是上头的命令。”
人们发疯似的冲着他挤去，都把五人小组发的四号车厢乘车证伸到他鼻子跟前。每节车厢的门前都是这样，人们气势汹汹地咒骂着，喊叫着，往上挤。保尔看出来，照常规办事是根本上不了车的。但是，他们又非上去不可，否则，代表大会就不能按期召开了。
他把丽达叫到一边，把自己的打算告诉了她：他先挤进车厢去，然后打开车窗，把她从窗口拉进去。不这样，就没有别的办法。
“把你的皮夹克给我，它比什么证件都管用。”
保尔拿过她的皮夹克穿上，又把手枪往夹克口袋里一插，故意让枪柄和枪穗露在外面。他把装食物的旅行袋放在丽达脚下，走到车门跟前，毫不客气地分开旅客，一只手抓住了车门把手。
“喂，同志，往哪儿去？”
保尔回头看了看那个矮墩墩的肃反工作人员。
“我是军区特勤部的。现在要检查一下，车上的人是不是都有五人小组发的乘车证。”保尔煞有介事地说，他的口气不容许别人对他的权力有丝毫怀疑。
那个工作人员看了看他口袋里的手枪，用袖口擦掉额上的汗珠，用无所谓的语调说：“好吧，你只要能挤进去，就检查好了。”
保尔用胳膊、肩膀，甚至拳头给自己开路，拼命往里挤，有时抓住上层的铺位，把身子吊起来，从别人肩膀上爬过去。
他受到了数不清的咒骂，不过总算挤到了车厢的中间。
他从上面下来，一脚踩在一个胖女人的膝盖上，她冲着他骂起来：“你这个该死的，臭脚丫子往哪儿伸呀！”这女人像个大肉球，约摸有七普特［一普特等于１６．３８千克。——译者］，勉勉强强挤在下铺的边缘上，两条腿中间还夹着一只装黄油的铁桶。各式各样的铁桶、箱子、口袋、筐子塞满了所有的铺位。车厢里闷得使人喘不过气来。
保尔没有理睬这个胖女人的咒骂，只是问她：“您的乘车证呢，公民？”
“什么？”她对这个突然冒出来的检票员恶狠狠地反问了一句。
一个贼眉鼠眼的家伙从上面的铺位上探出头来，扯着粗嗓子喊：“瓦西卡，这小子是个什么玩意儿？打发他滚远点！”
一个人应声在保尔的头顶上出现了。看来这就是瓦西卡了。这小子又高又大，胸脯上全是毛，两只牛眼睛瞪着柯察金。
“你缠着人家妇女干吗？用得着你查什么票？”
旁边的铺位上耷拉下来八条腿。这些耷拉着腿的人勾肩搭背地坐在上面，起劲地嗑着葵花子。这些人显然是一帮合伙倒腾粮食的投机商，走南闯北，常在铁路上来往。现在保尔没有工夫理睬他们，先把丽达接上车来要紧。
“这是谁的？”他指着车窗旁边的小木头箱子，问一个上了年纪的铁路工人。
“是那个女人的。”老工人指了指两条穿褐色长筒袜的粗腿说。
应该打开车窗，可是箱子碍事，又没有地方放。于是保尔把箱子抱起来，交给了它的主人。
“请您先拿一下，公民，我要开窗子。”
“你怎么乱动别人的东西！”保尔刚把箱子放到坐在上铺的塌鼻子女人的膝盖上，她就尖声叫了起来。
“莫季卡，你看这个人在这儿胡闹什么呀？”她又转过脸来，向身旁的人求援。那个人没有动地方，用凉鞋对保尔背上踢了一脚，说：“喂，你这个癞皮狗！快给我滚蛋，要不我就揍死你。”
保尔背上挨了这一脚，忍着没有做声。他咬紧嘴唇，打开了车窗。
“同志，请您稍微让开一点。”他向那个铁路工人请求说。
保尔把一只铁桶挪开，腾出个地方来，站到车窗跟前。丽达早就在车厢旁边等候，就连忙把旅行袋递给他。保尔把旅行袋往那个夹着铁桶的胖女人膝盖上一扔，探出身子，抓住丽达的两只手，把她拉了上来。一个值勤的红军战士发现了这一违章行为，刚要过来制止，丽达已经爬进了车厢。那个动作迟缓的战士没有办法，只好骂了几句，走开了。丽达一进车厢，那伙投机商都吵嚷起来，弄得她很难为情，不知道怎么办好。她连落脚的地方都没有，只好抓住上铺的把手，站在下铺的边缘上。周围是一片辱骂声。上铺那个粗嗓门骂道：“瞧这个混蛋，自己爬进来不算，还弄进来一个婊子！”
从上面看不见的地方，有个尖嗓子叫道：“莫季卡，照准他鼻梁子使劲揍！”
塌鼻子女人也乘机要把木箱子放到保尔的头上。周围全是充满敌意的不三不四的人。保尔很后悔，不该领丽达到这里来。但是，总得想办法给她找个座位。于是，他向那个叫莫季卡的说：“公民，把你的口袋从过道上挪开，这位同志连站的地方都没有。”但是，那个家伙不但没有动弹，反而骂了一句非常下流的话，气得保尔火冒三丈。他右眉上边的伤疤像针扎一样剧烈地疼起来。他压住怒火，对那个流氓说：“下流坯子，你等着，回头我跟你算帐！”就在这个时候，上面又有人在他头上踢了一脚。
“瓦西卡，再给他点厉害瞧瞧！”周围的人像嗾狗似的喊叫起来。
保尔憋了好久的怒火，再也按捺不住，终于爆发了。他总是这样，一发起火来，动作就异常迅猛。
“怎么，你们这帮坏蛋、奸商，竟敢欺负人？”保尔像蹬着弹簧，两手一撑就蹿到中铺上，挥起拳头，朝莫季卡那副蛮横无耻的脸上猛力打去。这一拳真有劲，那个家伙一下子就栽下去。跌落在过道里的人们的头上。
“你们这帮混蛋，统统给我滚下去。不然的话，我就要你们的狗命！”保尔用手枪指着上铺那四个人的鼻子，怒冲冲地吼着。
这样一来，局面完全改变了。丽达密切注视着周围所有的人，要是有谁敢碰碰保尔，她就准备开枪。上铺马上腾出来了，那个贼眉鼠眼的家伙也慌忙躲到隔壁的铺位上去。
保尔把丽达安置在空出来的位子上，低声对她说：“你在这儿坐着，我跟他们算帐去。”
丽达拦住他说：“你还要去打架？”
“不打架，我马上就回来。”他安慰她说。
保尔又把车窗打开，跳到站台上。几分钟之后，他跨进铁路肃反委员会，走到他的老首长布尔梅斯捷尔的办公桌前。
布尔梅斯捷尔是拉脱维亚人，听保尔谈完情况后，下令让四号车厢的全体旅客下车，检查证件。
“我早说过，哪次都是火车还没进站，投机商就上了车。”
布尔梅斯捷尔咕哝着。
由十名肃反人员组成的检查组，对车厢进行了一次彻底的大检查。保尔按照老习惯，帮着检查了整个列车。他离开肃反委员会之后，仍然同那里的朋友们保持着联系，而且在他担任共青团书记之后，向铁路肃反委员会输送了不少优秀团员。检查完毕，保尔又回到丽达的车厢。这时，车里已经上满了新的乘客，他们都是出差的干部和红军战士。
其他地方已经堆满了一捆捆的报纸，只在车厢顶头的三号上铺给丽达找到了一个位子。
“行了，咱们凑合着坐吧。”丽达说。
火车开动了。车窗外面那个胖女人高高地坐在一大堆口袋上，向后退去。只听她喊道：“曼卡，我的油桶呢？”
丽达和保尔挤在一个小铺位上，跟邻铺之间隔着一捆捆的报纸。他俩一边兴致勃勃地谈论刚才这个令人不大愉快的插曲，一边狼吞虎咽地嚼着面包和苹果。
火车缓慢地爬行着。车辆失于检修，又载重过多，不断发出吱吱嘎嘎的响声，每到接轨的地方就震动一下。傍晚，车厢里渐渐暗下来，不一会儿夜幕便遮住了敞开的车窗，车厢里一片漆黑。
丽达非常疲乏，把头枕在旅行袋上打起盹来。保尔耷拉着两条腿，坐在铺边上抽烟。他也很累，但是没有地方可以躺下。凉爽的夜风，从车窗吹进来。车身突然一震，丽达惊醒了。她看见保尔的烟头在发光。“他会一直这样坐到天亮的，看样子，他是不愿意挤我，怕我难为情。”
“柯察金同志！请阁下把资产阶级那套繁文缛节扔掉吧，来，躺下休息休息。”她开玩笑说。
保尔在她身边躺了下来，非常舒服地伸直了两条发麻的腿。
“明天咱们还有很多工作要做，睡吧，你这个爱打架的家伙。”她坦然地用胳膊抱住她的朋友，保尔感到她的头发挨着了他的脸。
在保尔的心目中，丽达是神圣不可侵犯的。他们为同一目标而奋斗，她是他的战友和同志，是他政治上的指导者。不过，她毕竟是一个女人。这一点，他是今天在天桥上第一次意识到的，所以，她的拥抱使他心情很激动。他感觉到她那均匀的呼吸，她的嘴唇就在很近的地方。这使他产生了要找到那嘴唇的强烈愿望，不过他还是用顽强的毅力，把这种愿望克制住了。
丽达似乎猜到了保尔的感情，在暗中微笑了。她已经尝过爱情的欢乐和失掉爱情的痛苦。她先后把她的爱情献给两个布尔什维克，可是，白卫军的子弹却把那两个人从她手中夺走了：一个是英勇的、身材魁梧的旅长，另一个是生着一对明亮的蓝眼睛的青年。
车轮有节奏的响声很快就使保尔入睡了。直到第二天早晨，汽笛的吼声才把他吵醒。
最近，丽达都是很晚才回到自己的房间。她那本笔记本不常打开，写的几则日记，也都很简短。
８月１１日
省代表会议结束了。阿基姆、米海拉和其他一些同志都到哈尔科夫参加全乌克兰代表会议去了。日常事务工作全部落到了我的身上。杜巴瓦和保尔都收到了列席团省委会议的证件。杜巴瓦从到佩乔拉区担任团委书记以后，晚上就不再来学习了。他工作很忙。保尔还想继续学习，不过有时候我没有工夫，有时候他又到外地出差。由于铁路上的情况日益紧张，他们那里经常处于动员状态。昨天，扎尔基到我这里来，他很不满意我们从他那里调走一些人。他说，这些人他也非常需要。
８月２３日
今天我从走廊走过时，看见潘克拉托夫、柯察金，还有一个不认识的人站在行政处门口。我往前走，听见保尔正在讲着什么事：“那边的几个家伙，枪毙了也不可惜。他们说什么‘你们无权干涉我们的事务。这里的事自有铁路林业委员会作主，用不着什么共青团来管。’瞧他们那副嘴脸……这帮寄生虫可找到了藏身的地方！……”
接着就是一句不堪入耳的骂人话。潘克拉托夫一看见我，捅了保尔一下。他回过头来，看见是我，脸都白了。他没敢再看我，连忙走开了。这回他大概会有很长时间不到我这里来，因为他知道，对于骂人，我是不能原谅的。
８月２７日
今天常委会开了一次内部会谈。情况越来越复杂。现在我还不能把全部情况都记下来——不允许。阿基姆从县里回来了，心情挺不好。昨天在捷捷列夫站附近，运粮专车又被人弄出了轨。看来，我得索性不写日记了，反正总是那么零零碎碎的。我正等柯察金来。我今天见过他，知道他和扎尔基他们五个人正在组织一个公社。
一天中午，保尔在铁路工厂接到一个电话，是丽达打来的。她说今天晚上有空，让他去继续学习上次那个专题：巴黎公社失败的原因。
晚上，他走到大学环路那栋房子的门口，抬头看了看，丽达的窗子里有灯光。他顺着楼梯跑上去，用拳头捶了一下房门，没有等里面应声，就走了进去。
丽达的床上，一般男同志连坐一下的资格都没有，这时却躺着一个穿军装的男人。他的手枪、行军背包和缀着红星的军帽放在桌子上。丽达坐在他的身旁，紧紧地拥抱着他。他们正兴高采烈地谈着话……丽达喜气洋洋，朝保尔转过脸来。
那个军人也推开拥抱着他的丽达，站了起来。
“我来介绍一下，”丽达一面跟保尔打招呼，一面说。“这是……”
“达维德·乌斯季诺维奇。”军人没有等她介绍，就大大方方地报了姓名，同时紧紧地握住了保尔的手。
“没想到他会来，像是天上掉下来的一样。”丽达笑着说。
保尔握手时的态度却很冷淡。一种莫名的妒意，犹如燧石的火星在他的眼睛里闪了一下。他看见达维德袖子上戴着四个方形组成的军衔标志。
丽达正想说什么，柯察金马上拦住她说：“我是来告诉你一声，今天我要上码头去卸木柴，你别等我了……恰巧你这儿又有客人。好了，我走啦，同志们还在楼下等着呢。”
保尔突然闯进门来，又突然消失在门外。他的脚步声迅速地在楼梯上响着。下面大门砰的一声关上之后，就没有什么响动了。
“他今天有点反常。”丽达回答达维德那疑惑的目光，这样猜测说。
……天桥下面，一台机车长长地吐了一口气，从庞大的胸腔中喷出了金色的火星。火星缭乱地飞舞着，向上冲去，在烟尘中熄灭了。
保尔靠着天桥的栏杆，望着道岔上各色信号灯的闪光出神。他眯起眼睛，讥讽地责问自己：“真不明白，柯察金同志，为什么您一发现丽达有丈夫就那样痛苦？难道她什么时候说过，她没有丈夫吗？好吧，就算她说过，那又怎么样呢？为什么您突然这样难过呢？亲爱的同志，您不是一向认为，你们之间除了志同道合之外，并没有任何别的东西吗？……您怎么忽略了这一点呢？嗯？再说，要是他不是她的丈夫呢？达维德·乌斯季诺维奇，看姓名可能是她的哥哥，也可能是她的叔叔……要真是这样，你无缘无故就给人难堪，岂不是太荒唐了吗？看来，你也是一个糊涂虫，不比任何笨蛋强。他是不是她的哥哥，一打听就可以知道。假如真是她的哥哥或叔叔，你还有脸见她，跟她说话吗？得了，往后你再也别想上她那儿去了！”
汽笛的吼声打断了他的思路。
“天已经不早了，回家吧，别再自寻烦恼啦。”
在索洛缅卡（这是铁路工人区的名称），有五个人组织了一个小小的公社。这五个人是扎尔基、保尔、快活的淡黄头发捷克人克拉维切克、机车库共青团书记尼古拉·奥库涅夫和铁路局肃反委员会委员斯乔帕·阿尔秋欣，他不久以前还是一个修理厂的锅炉工。
他们弄到了一间屋子。下班之后就去油饰、粉刷、擦洗，一连忙了三天。他们提着水桶跑来跑去，邻居们还以为是着火了。他们搭起了床铺，又从公园里弄来许多树叶，塞在大口袋里做床垫。到了第四天，房间就布置妥当了，雪白的墙上挂着彼得罗夫斯基［彼得罗夫斯基（１８７８—１９５８），当时的乌克兰中央执行委员会主席。——译者］的肖像和一幅大地图。
两个窗户中间，钉着一个搁架，上面放着一堆书。两只木箱钉上马粪纸，算是凳子，另一只大一点的木箱做柜子。房子中间摆着一张巨大的台球台，球台的呢面已经没有了，这是他们用肩膀从公用事业局扛来的，白天当桌子，晚上是克拉维切克的床。大家把自己的东西全都搬了来。善于管家的克拉维切克列了一份公社全部财产的清单。他想把清单钉在墙上，但是大伙一致反对，他才作罢。现在房间里的一切都归集体所有了。工资、口粮和偶尔收到的包裹，全都平均分配。只有各人的武器才是私产。全体社员一致决定：公社成员，凡违反取消私有财产的规定并欺瞒同社社员者，一律开除出社。奥库涅夫和克拉维切克还坚持在这个决定上加上一句：并立即驱逐出室。
索洛缅卡区共青团的活动分子全都参加了公社的成立典礼。社员们从邻院借来一个挺大的茶炊，把公社所有的糖精全拿出来沏茶用了。大家喝完茶，大声合唱起来：
泪水洒遍茫茫大地，
我们受尽了劳役的煎熬，
但是总会有这样一天……
合唱由烟厂的塔莉亚·拉古京娜指挥。她的红布头巾稍微歪向一边，眼睛活像个调皮的男孩子。这对眼睛还从来没有人能够到跟前看个仔细呢。塔莉亚的笑声很有感染力。这个糊烟盒的十八岁的女工满怀青春的热忱，注视着世界。她的手往上一抬，领唱的歌声就像铜号一样响起来：
唱吧，让歌声传遍四方——
我们的旗帜在全世界飘扬，
它燃烧，放射出灿烂的光芒，
那是我们的热血，鲜红似火……
大家直到深夜才散，沉睡的街道被他们的谈笑声吵醒了。
扎尔基伸手去接电话。
“静一静，同志们，我什么也听不清！”他向挤满团区委书记办公室的那些高声说话的共青团员们喊道。
说话声稍微小了一些。
“喂喂，哦，是你啊！对，对，马上就开。会议内容？还是那件事，就是从码头上往外运木柴。什么？没有，没有派他到哪儿去。他在这儿。叫他接电话吗？好吧。”
扎尔基向保尔招招手。
“乌斯季诺维奇同志找你。”说着，他把听筒交给了保尔。
“我以为你不在呢。凑巧今天晚上我没事。你来吧。我哥哥路过这儿，顺便来看看我，我们两年没见面了。”
果然是她哥哥！
保尔没有听到她又说了些什么。那天晚上发生的事和当时他在桥上做出的决定，一起涌上心头。是的，今天应该到她那里去，放一把火，把他们之间的桥梁烧掉。爱情给人带来许多烦恼和痛苦。难道现在是谈情说爱的时候吗？
电话里丽达在问：“你怎么啦，没听见我说的话吗？”
“嗯，哪，我听着呢。好吧。开完常委会就去。”
他放下了听筒。
保尔直勾勾地盯着她的眼睛，手抓住柞木桌子的边沿，说：“往后我大概不能再到你这儿来了。”
他说完，立刻看见她那浓密的睫毛向上挑了一下。她手里那支在纸上迅速移动的铅笔也停下了，静静地搁在打开的笔记本上。
“为什么呢？”
“时间越来越不够用了。你自己也知道，咱们现在有多紧张。很可惜，学习的事只好等以后再说……”
他倾听着自己的声音，觉得最后那句话还不果断。
“干吗拐弯抹角呢？这说明你还没有勇气对着胸口给自己一拳，干脆解决问题。”想到这里，他坚定地接着说：“另外，我早就想告诉你，你讲的东西，我不大明白。我跟谢加尔学习的时候，脑子里什么都记得住，跟你学习就怎么也不行。每次在你这儿学完，我还得找托卡列夫补课。我的脑袋不好使，你还是另找一个聪明点的学生吧。”
他转过脸，避开了她那注视的目光。为了堵死退路，他又固执地补充说：“所以，咱们就别再浪费时间了。”
他站起来，小心翼翼地用脚挪开椅子，低头看了看她那垂着的头和在灯光下变得更苍白的脸。他戴上帽子，说：“就这样吧，再见了，丽达同志！这么多天没跟你说明，实在抱歉。我早说就好了。这是我的过错。”
丽达机械地把手伸给他。保尔突然对她这样冷冰冰的，使她十分惊愕，勉强说了两句：“保尔，我不怪你。既然我过去做的不合你的意，没能使你了解我，那么今天发生这种情况，该怨我自己。”
他的两只脚像铅一样沉重地迈出房间，悄悄掩上了门。走到大门口，他停住了脚步——现在还可以返回去，对她说……
可是，这又何必呢？难道要让她当面奚落一番，再回到这大门口来吗？不！
铁路的死岔线上，破烂的车厢和灭了火的机车越积越多。
木柴场空荡荡的，风卷着锯末到处飞舞。
奥尔利克匪帮像凶猛的猞猁，经常在城的周围，在丛林和峡谷里出没。白天他们隐蔽在四郊的村庄和林中的大养蜂场里；深夜就爬到铁路上，伸出锐利的爪子破坏路轨，干完坏事之后，再爬回自己的老窝去。
因此，列车经常出轨。车厢摔得粉碎，睡梦中的旅客压成了肉饼，宝贵的粮食同鲜血和泥土掺和在一起。
奥尔利克匪帮不时袭击宁静的乡镇。母鸡惊得咯咯直叫，满街乱跑。常常是啪的响一枪，接着在乡苏维埃的白房子近旁便是一阵对射，枪声清脆，就像踩断干树枝一样。随后匪徒们便骑着肥壮的马在村子里横冲直撞，砍杀被他们抓住的人。他们把马刀挥得呼呼直响，砍起人来就像劈木柴似的。为了节省子弹，他们很少开枪。
这帮匪徒来得快，去得也快。到处都有他们的耳目。一对对眼睛简直能穿透乡苏维埃的白房子的墙壁。在神甫家的院子里，在富农的考究的住宅里，都有人窥视着乡苏维埃的动静。一条条无形的线一直伸向密林深处。弹药、鲜猪肉、淡蓝色的原汁酒，源源不断地送到那里去。还有各种情报，先是咬着耳朵，悄悄告诉小头目，然后再通过极其复杂的联络网传给奥尔利克本人。
这个匪帮一共只有两三百个亡命徒，可是却一直没有能剿灭。他们分成许多小股，在两三个县里同时活动。要把他们一网打尽是不可能的。他们夜里是匪徒，白天却成了安分的庄稼人，在自家院子里磨蹭来、磨蹭去，不时给马添点草料，要不就站在大门口，嘴角露出一丝讪笑，一边吸烟袋，一边用阴沉的目光打量过往的红军骑兵巡逻队。
亚历山大·普济列夫斯基团长率领自己的部队，废寝忘食地在这三个县里来回清剿匪徒。他不知疲劳，顽强地跟踪追击，有时也能摸到匪帮的尾巴。
一个月之后，奥尔利克从两个县里撤走了他的喽罗。现在他已经处在包围之中，只好在一个小圈子里打转了。
城里的生活一如既往。五个小集市上，人群熙熙攘攘，声音喧嚣嘈杂。这里起支配作用的是两种愿望：一种是漫天要价，一种是就地还钱。形形色色的骗子都在这里大显神通。几百个眼尖手快的人，像跳蚤一样不停地活动着。他们的眼神里什么玩意儿都有，惟独没有天良。这里是一个大粪坑，全城的蛆虫都麇集在这里，他们的目的都是坑骗那些没有见过世面的“傻瓜”。很少有的几趟火车从自己的肚子里排泄出一群群背着口袋的人。这些人都向小集市涌去。
晚上，集市上已经空无一人，白天生意兴隆的小胡同、一排排黑洞洞的空货架子和商亭变得阴森可怕了。
到了夜里，在这个死气沉沉的地方，每座小亭子后面都隐藏着危险，就是胆大的人也都不敢冒险到这里来。常有这样的事：突然响起枪声，像锤子敲了一下铁板，于是，就有人倒在血泊里。等到附近站岗的民警凑在一起赶来的时候（他们单个是不敢来的），除了一具蜷缩着的尸体之外，已经什么人也找不到了。凶手早就离开作案的地方，逃之夭夭，其他在这一带鬼混过夜的人，也都因为出了事，一下子溜得无影无踪。小集市对面就是七星电影院，那里的马路和人行道灯火通明，行人熙熙攘攘。
电影院里，放映机喳喳地响着。银幕上争风吃醋的情敌在互相厮杀，片子一断，观众就怪声喊叫。看来，城里城外的生活似乎都没有离开常轨，就连革命政权的中枢——党的省委会里也都一切如常。但是，这种平静只是表面现象。
在这座城市里，正酝酿着一场风暴。
有不少人知道这场风暴即将来临。他们把步枪笨拙地藏在乡下人常穿的长袍下面，从各地潜入这座城市。有的装扮成投机倒把的商贩，坐在火车顶上来到这里。下车之后，他们不去市场，而是凭着记忆，把东西扛到预先约定的街道和住宅去。
这些人都是知情的，可是城里的工人群众，甚至布尔什维克却还蒙在鼓里，不知道风暴正在逼近。
全城只有五个布尔什维克例外，他们掌握了敌人的全部准备活动。
被红军赶到白色波兰境内的佩特留拉残匪，同驻华沙的一些外国使团紧密勾结，准备在这里组织一次暴动。
佩特留拉残部秘密地成立了一支突击队。
中央暴动委员会在舍佩托夫卡也建立了自己的组织。参加这个组织的有四十七个人，其中大多数过去就是顽固的反革命分子，只是因为当地肃反委员会轻信了他们，才没有把他们关押起来。
这个组织的头子是瓦西里神甫、温尼克准尉和一个姓库济缅科的佩特留拉军官。神甫的两个女儿、温尼克的弟弟和父亲以及钻进该市执行委员会当了办事员的萨莫特亚负责刺探情报。
他们计划在夜里发动暴乱，用手榴弹炸毁边防特勤处，放出犯人，如果可能，就占领火车站。
在作为这次暴动中心的一座大城市里，白匪军官们正在非常秘密地集中，各路匪帮也都到近郊的树林子里集结。又从这里派出了经过严格审查的“忠诚分子”，分别到罗马尼亚，到佩特留拉本人那里去，随时保持联系。
水兵朱赫来在军区特勤部已经一连六夜没有合眼了。他是掌握全部情况的五名布尔什维克中的一个。费奥多尔·朱赫来现在的心情，正像一个死死盯住即将扑来的猛兽的猎人。
在这种时候，不能喊叫，也不能声张。只有把这只嗜血成性的野兽击毙才能消除后患，安心从事劳动。把野兽惊跑是不行的。在这场殊死的搏斗中，只有冷静的头脑和铁的手腕才能克敌制胜。决定性的时刻越来越近了。
就在城里的某个地方，在秘密进行阴谋活动的迷宫里，敌人决定：明天夜里动手。
不！就在·今·天夜里。五个掌握敌情的布尔什维克决定抢先一步。
晚上，一列装甲车没有拉汽笛，悄悄地开出了车库，随后车库又悄悄地关上了大门。
直达线路急速地传递着密码电报。所有收到电报的地方，共和国的保卫者们顾不得睡觉，立即行动起来，连夜捣毁匪巢。
扎尔基接到了阿基姆的电话：“各支部的会议都布置好了吗？是吗？好。你跟区党委书记马上来开会。木柴问题比原来想的还要糟糕。你们来了，咱们再谈吧。”扎尔基听见阿基姆坚定而急促地说。
“真是，这个木柴问题快把我们搞疯了。”他咕哝着，放下了听筒。
古戈·利特克开着汽车，飞快地把两位书记送到了地方。
他们下了车，一登上二楼，立刻就明白了：叫他们来决不是为了木柴的事。
办公室主任的桌子上架着一挺马克沁机枪，特勤部队的几个机枪手在它旁边忙碌着。走廊上有本市的党团员积极分子站岗，他们都默不做声。省委书记办公室的门紧闭着，里面的省党委常委紧急会议就要结束了。
两部军用电话机的电线，经过气窗，通到室外。
人们都压低了声音说话。扎尔基在房间里见到了阿基姆、丽达和米海拉。丽达还是那副装束，跟当连指导员的时候一样：戴着红军的盔形帽，穿着草绿色的短裙和皮夹克，挎着一支沉甸甸的毛瑟枪。
“这是怎么回事？”扎尔基惊疑地问丽达。
“这是演习紧急集合，伊万。我们马上到你们区去，集合地点在第五步兵学校。各支部开完会就直接到那儿去。最要紧的是这个行动不要让别人发觉。”丽达告诉扎尔基说。
步兵学校周围的树林里静悄悄的。
参天的百年柞树默默地挺立着。池塘在牛蒡和水草的覆盖下沉睡，宽阔的林荫道已经很久没有人迹了。
在树林中间，在白色的高围墙里面，从前是武备学堂的楼房，现在已经改为红军第五步兵军官学校。夜深了，楼上没有灯光。表面上看，这里一切都很平静。过路的人一定会以为里面的人全都睡了。但是，那扇大铁门为什么敞开着呢？
门旁边那两个像大蛤蟆似的东西又是什么呢？不过，从铁路工人区的各个角落到这里来集合的人都知道，既然下了紧急集合令，军校里的人是不可能睡觉的。参加支部会的人听到简短的通知以后，就直接到这里来了。路上没有人说话。有的是一个人单独走，有的是两个一起走，最多不超过三个人。
每个人的衣袋里都有印着“共产党（布尔什维克）”或“乌克兰共产主义青年团”字样的证件。只有出示了这样的证件，才能走进那扇铁门。
大厅里已经有很多人了。这里灯光明亮，四周的窗户都用帆布帐幕挡着。集合在这里的党团员悠闲地抽着自己卷的烟，拿这次紧急集合的种种规定当作笑谈。谁也没有感觉到有什么紧急情况，不过是集合一下，让大家体会体会特勤部队的纪律，以防万一罢了。但是，有战斗经验的人，一进校门，就感到气氛有点异样，不大像演习。这里的一切简直太静了。军校学员整队的时候一声不响，口令也像耳语一样。机枪是用手抱出来的。从外面看不见楼里有一点光亮。
“德米特里，不是要出什么大事吧？”保尔走到杜巴瓦跟前，低声问。
杜巴瓦正跟一个保尔不认识的姑娘并肩坐在窗台上。前天保尔在扎尔基那里匆匆见过她一面。
杜巴瓦开玩笑地拍拍保尔的肩膀，说：“怎么，把魂都吓丢了吧？没关系，我们会教会你们打仗的。你跟她不认识吗？”杜巴瓦点头指了指姑娘问。“她的名字叫安娜，姓什么我也不知道。官衔吗，是宣传站站长。”
那个姑娘一边听杜巴瓦诙谐的介绍，一边打量着保尔。她用手理了理从淡紫色头巾下滑出来的头发。
她和保尔的目光碰到一起了，双方对视了好几秒钟，各不相让。她那两只乌黑的眼睛闪着挑战的光芒，睫毛又长又密。保尔把目光转向了杜巴瓦。他觉得脸上发热，不高兴地皱了皱眉头，然后勉强笑着说：“你们俩到底是谁宣传谁呀？”
大厅里一阵喧哗。米海拉·什科连科登上椅子，喊道：“第一中队在这儿集合！快一点，同志们，快一点！”
朱赫来、省委书记和阿基姆一起走进了大厅。他们是刚到达的。
大厅里站满了排着队的人。
省委书记登上教练机枪的平台，举起一只手，说：“同志们，我们把你们召集到这里来，是为了完成一项严肃艰巨的任务。现在要告诉你们的，甚至昨天还不能说，因为这是重大的军事秘密。明天夜里，在这个城市，以及在全乌克兰的其他城市，将要发生反革命暴乱。咱们城里已经潜伏进来许多反动军官。周围也集结了好几股土匪。有些阴谋分子甚至混进我们的装甲车营，当上了驾驶员。但是，他们的阴谋给肃反委员会察觉了，所以现在我们要把整个党团组织都武装起来。第一和第二共产主义大队要配合肃反工作人员和军校学员，跟这两支有丰富战斗经验的队伍一起行动。军校的队伍已经出发。同志们，现在该你们出发了。给你们十五分钟的时间，领取武器，整理队伍。这次行动由朱赫来同志指挥。他会给指挥员们做详细指示。我认为当前局势的严重性已经十分清楚，没有必要再向同志们解释了。我们必须先发制人，今天就制止明天的暴乱。”
一刻钟后，全副武装的队伍已经在校园里集合好了。
朱赫来用眼睛扫了一遍肃立的行列。
在队列前三步，并肩站着两个扎皮带的人：一个是大队长梅尼亚伊洛，他是个彪形大汉，乌拉尔的铸工；另一个是政委阿基姆。左面是第一中队的队伍。队伍前两步，也站着两个人——中队长什科连科和指导员乌斯季诺维奇。他们的后面是默无声息的共产主义大队的行列。一共三百名战士。
朱赫来发出命令：“出发！”
三百个人在空荡荡的街道上行进。
城市在沉睡。
走到荒凉街对面的利沃夫大街，队伍停了下来。就在这里开始行动。
他们一声不响地包围了整个地段。指挥部就设在一家商店的台阶上。
一辆汽车亮着车灯，从市中心沿利沃夫大街急驰过来，开到指挥部，刹住了车。
这一次古戈·利特克送来的是他的父亲——本市的卫戍司令扬·利特克。老利特克从车上跳下来，向儿子匆忙说了几句拉脱维亚话。汽车猛然向前一冲，一眨眼就拐到德米特里大街，不见了。古戈·利特克全神贯注地望着前方，两只手像长在方向盘上似的——忽而向左，忽而向右，不停地打着舵。
哈哈，这回可用着他利特克开飞车的本领了！谁也不会因为他发狂似的急转弯而关他两天禁闭了。
小利特克的汽车疾如流星，在街上飞驰。
转眼间，他就把朱赫来从城市的一头送到了另一头。朱赫来不禁夸奖他说：“古戈，像你今天这样开法，要是不出事，明天就奖给你一块金表。”
古戈·利特克喜出望外地说：“我还以为这样开车要关我十天禁闭呢……”
最先遭到打击的是阴谋分子的司令部。第一批俘虏和缴获的文件马上送到了特勤部。
荒凉街上有一条胡同，也叫这个古怪名字，这条胡同的十一号住着一个姓秋贝特的人。根据肃反委员会掌握的情报，他在这次反革命阴谋中扮演一个不小的角色。他那里藏有预定在波多拉区行动的军官团的名单。
卫戍司令扬·利特克亲自到荒凉街来逮捕这个家伙。秋贝特住的房子有几个窗户朝着花园，越过花园的高墙，就是从前的修道院。在这所房子里没有找到他。据邻居说，他今天一直没有回来。经过搜查，除一箱手榴弹外，还找到了一些名单和地址。老利特克下令埋伏好，自己就在桌子旁边翻看起搜到的材料来。
花园里的哨兵是军校的一个年轻学员。他可以看到这个亮着灯光的窗户。一个人站在角落里真不是滋味。有点可怕。
他的任务是监视那堵高墙。可这里离那个能壮人胆的明亮窗户很远。那个鬼月亮又很少露面，周围黑洞洞的，灌木丛像是在动弹。他用刺刀向四周探了探——什么也没有。
“干吗派我到这儿来站岗呢？墙这么高——反正谁也爬不上来。到窗子跟前瞧瞧怎么样？”年轻学员这样想。他再一次看了看墙头，就离开了散发着霉味的墙角。他在窗前停住了脚步。老利特克正匆忙地收拾文件，准备离开那个房间。就在这当口，一个人影在墙头上出现了。他从墙头上看见了窗外的哨兵和屋子里的老利特克。人影像猫一样，敏捷地从墙头攀到树上，溜到了地面，又像猫一样悄悄地接近哨兵，一扬手，哨兵倒下去了。一把海军短剑刺进了哨兵的脖子，只剩剑柄露在外面。
花园里一声枪响，包围这个地段的人们就像触了电一样。
一阵皮靴声，六个人飞速向这所房子跑来。
扬·利特克已经死了。他坐在靠椅上，头贴着桌子，满脸鲜血。窗户的玻璃已被打得粉碎，但是敌人没能把文件抢走。
修道院旁边响起了密集的枪声。凶手跳到街上，一面拼命向卢基扬诺夫广场跑去，一面不断向后开枪。他并没有逃脱：一颗子弹追上了他。
通夜进行了挨户搜查。几百个没报户口、证件可疑、藏有武器的人被押到肃反委员会，在那里由审查委员会进行甄审。
有几个地方，阴谋分子进行了武力反抗。在日良大街，安托沙·列别杰夫在一家搜查的时候，被人一枪打死了。
这天夜里，索洛缅卡大队损失了五个人，肃反委员会牺牲了一个老布尔什维克，他就是共和国的忠实保卫者扬·利特克。
暴动被制止了。
同一天夜里，在舍佩托夫卡逮捕了瓦西里神甫、他的两个女儿以及他们的全部同伙。
一场风暴平息了。
然而，新的敌人又在威胁着这个城市——铁路运输眼看要瘫痪，饥饿和寒冷就会接踵而来。
现在，一切都取决于粮食和木柴。
收听单词发音 |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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eludes
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的第三人称单数 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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materialism
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| n.［哲］唯物主义，唯物论；物质至上 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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begrudge
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| vt.吝啬，羡慕 | |
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rumoured
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| adj.谣传的；传说的；风 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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15
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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17
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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18
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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19
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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20
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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21
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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23
buffers
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| 起缓冲作用的人（或物）( buffer的名词复数 )； 缓冲器； 减震器； 愚蠢老头 | |
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24
irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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25
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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26
ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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27
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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28
berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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29
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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30
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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32
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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33
hampers
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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34
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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35
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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36
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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37
bovine
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| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
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38
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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39
crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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40
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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41
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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42
infringement
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| n.违反；侵权 | |
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43
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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44
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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45
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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46
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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47
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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48
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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49
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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50
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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51
bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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52
hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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53
agilely
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| adv.敏捷地 | |
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54
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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55
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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56
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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57
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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58
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
overloaded
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| a.超载的，超负荷的 | |
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60
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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61
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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62
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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63
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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65
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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66
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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67
bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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68
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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69
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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70
proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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71
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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72
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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73
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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74
countermand
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| v.撤回(命令)，取消(订货) | |
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75
infested
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|
| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
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76
parasites
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| 寄生物( parasite的名词复数 )； 靠他人为生的人； 诸虫 | |
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77
haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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78
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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79
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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80
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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81
exhaling
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的现在分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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82
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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83
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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84
platonic
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| adj.精神的；柏拉图（哲学）的 | |
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85
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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86
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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87
boiler
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| n.锅炉；煮器(壶，锅等) | |
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88
whitewashing
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的现在分词 )； 喷浆 | |
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89
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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90
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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91
mattresses
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| 褥垫，床垫( mattress的名词复数 ) | |
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92
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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93
crate
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| vt.(up)把…装入箱中；n.板条箱，装货箱 | |
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94
crates
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| n. 板条箱, 篓子, 旧汽车 vt. 装进纸条箱 | |
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95
inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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96
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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97
inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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98
earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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99
rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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100
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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101
communal
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| adj.公有的，公共的，公社的，公社制的 | |
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102
eviction
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| n.租地等的收回 | |
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103
saccharine
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| adj.奉承的，讨好的 | |
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104
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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105
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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106
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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107
fathomed
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| 理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 )； 彻底了解； 弄清真相 | |
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108
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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109
fanfare
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| n.喇叭；号角之声；v.热闹地宣布 | |
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110
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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111
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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112
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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113
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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115
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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116
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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117
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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118
graveyards
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| 墓地( graveyard的名词复数 )； 垃圾场； 废物堆积处； 收容所 | |
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119
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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120
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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121
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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122
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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123
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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124
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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125
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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126
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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127
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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128
swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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129
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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130
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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131
Soviet
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| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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132
hacked
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| 生气 | |
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133
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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134
chunks
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| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
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135
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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136
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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137
eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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138
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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139
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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140
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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141
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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142
persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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143
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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144
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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145
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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146
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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147
gullible
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| adj.易受骗的；轻信的 | |
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148
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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149
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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150
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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151
killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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152
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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153
projector
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| n.投影机，放映机，幻灯机 | |
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154
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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155
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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156
brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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157
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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158
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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159
insurgents
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| n.起义，暴动，造反( insurgent的名词复数 ) | |
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160
organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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161
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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162
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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163
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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164
conspiratorial
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| adj.阴谋的，阴谋者的 | |
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165
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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166
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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167
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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168
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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169
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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170
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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171
instructor
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| n.指导者，教员，教练 | |
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172
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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173
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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174
nettles
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| n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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175
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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176
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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177
passerby
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| n.过路人，行人 | |
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178
toads
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆( toad的名词复数 ) | |
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179
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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180
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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181
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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182
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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183
agitating
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| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
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184
conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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185
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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186
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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187
battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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188
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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189
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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190
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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191
batches
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| 一批( batch的名词复数 )； 一炉； （食物、药物等的）一批生产的量； 成批作业 | |
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192
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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193
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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194
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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195
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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196
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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197
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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198
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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199
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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200
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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201
paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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