第 22 页

Yet rest awhile he must; he had to consider the situation and decide on the next step. He remembered that there was a summerhouse at the end of the garden. No one would see him there.

Hoisting himself to the top of the fence, he clambered over and dropped into the garden below.

With a brief glance at the house, barely visible among the trees, he made for the summerhouse. To his dismay he found that it was open on nearly all sides. The wild vine that had walled it in during the summer had withered and now all was bare.

He turned to go back, but it was too late. There was a furious barking behind him. He wheeled round and saw a huge dog coming straight at him down the leaf-strewn path leading from the house. Its fierce growls rent the stillness of the garden.

Pavel made ready to defend himself. The first attack he repulsed with a heavy kick. But the animal crouched to spring a second time. There is no saying how the encounter would have ended had a familiar voice not called out: "Come here, Tresor! Come here!"

Tonya came running down the path. She dragged Tresor back by the collar and turned to address the young man standing by the fence.

"What are you doing here? You might have been badly mauled by the dog. It's lucky I. . . ."

She stopped short and her eyes widened in surprise. How extraordinarily like Korchagin was this stranger who had wandered into her garden.

The figure by the fence stirred.

"Tonya!" said the young man softly. "Don't you recognise me?"

Tonya cried out and rushed impulsively over to him.

"Pavel, you?"

Tresor, taking the cry as a signal for attack, sprang forward.

"Down, Tresor, down!" A few cuffs from Tonya and he slunk back with an injured air toward the house, his tail between his legs.

"So you're free?" said Tonya, clinging to Pavel's hands.

"You knew then?"

"I know everything," replied Tonya breathlessly. "Liza told me. But however did you get here?

Did they let you go?"

"Yes, but only by mistake," Pavel replied wearily. "I ran away. I suppose they're looking for me now. I really don't know how I got here. I thought I'd rest a bit in your summerhouse. I'm awfully tired," he added apologetically.

She gazed at him for a moment or two and a wave of pity and tenderness swept over her.

"Pavel, my darling Pavel," she murmured holding his hands fast in hers. "I love you. . . . Do you hear me? My stubborn boy, why did you go away that time? Now you're coming to us, to me. I shan't let you go for anything. It's nice and quiet in our house and you can stay as long as you like."

Pavel shook his head.

"What if they find me here? No, I can't stay in your place."

Her hands squeezed his fingers and her eyes flashed.

"If you refuse, I shall never speak to you again. Artem isn't here, he was marched off under escort to the locomotive. All the railwaymen are being mobilised. Where will you go?"

Pavel shared her anxiety, and only his fear of bringing trouble to this girl now grown so dear to him held him back. But at last, worn out by his harrowing experiences, hungry and exhausted, he gave in.

While he sat on the sofa in Tonya's room, the following conversation ensued between mother and daughter in the kitchen.

"Mama, Korchagin is in my room. He was my pupil, you remember? I don't want to hide anything from you. He was arrested for helping a Bolshevik sailor to escape. Now he has run away from prison, but he has nowhere to go." Her voice trembled. "Mother dear, please let him stay here for a while."

The mother looked into her daughter's pleading eyes.

"Very well, I have no objection. But where do you intend to put him?"

Tonya flushed.

"He can sleep in my room on the sofa," she said. "We needn't tell Papa anything for the time being."

Her mother looked straight into her eyes.

"Is this what you have been fretting about so much lately?" she asked.

"Yes."

"But he is scarcely more than a boy."

"I know," replied Tonya, nervously fingering the sleeve of her blouse. "But if he hadn't escaped they would have shot him just the same."

Yekaterina Mikhailovna was alarmed by Korchagin's presence in her home. His arrest and her daughter's obvious infatuation with a lad she scarcely knew disturbed her.

But Tonya, considering the matter settled, was already thinking of attending to her guest's comfort.

"He must have a bath, first thing, Mama. I'll see to it at once. He is as dirty as a chimney sweep. It must be ages since he had a wash."

And she bustled off to heat the water for the bath and find some clean linen for Pavel. When all was ready she rushed into the room, seized Pavel by the arm and hurried him off to the bathroom without more ado.

"You must have a complete change of clothes. Here is a suit for you to put on. Your things will have to be washed. You can wear that in the meantime," she said pointing to the chair where a blue sailor blouse with striped white collar and a pair of bell-bottomed trousers were neatly laid out.

Pavel looked surprised. Tonya smiled.

"I wore it at a masquerade ball once," she explained. "It will be just right for you. Now, hurry.

While you're washing, I'll get you something to eat."

She went out and shut the door, leaving Pavel with no alternative but to undress and climb into the tub.

An hour later all three, mother, daughter and Pavel, were dining in the kitchen.

Pavel, who was ravenously hungry, consumed three helpings before he was aware of it. He was rather shy of Yekaterina Mikhailovna at first but soon thawed out when he saw how friendly she was.

After dinner they retired to Tonya's room and at Yekaterina Mikhailovna's request Pavel related his experiences.

"What do you intend doing now?" Yekaterina Mikhailovna asked when he had finished.

Pavel pondered the question a moment. "I should like to see Artem first, and then I shall have to get away from here."

"But where will you go?"

"I think I could make my way to Uman or perhaps to Kiev. I don't know myself yet, but I must get away from here as soon as possible."

Pavel could hardly believe that everything had changed so quickly. Only that morning he had been in the filthy cell and now here he was sitting beside Tonya, wearing clean clothes, and, what was most important, he was free.

What queer turns life can take, he thought: one moment the sky seems black as night, and then the sun comes shining through again. Had it not been for the danger of being arrested again he would have been the happiest lad alive at this moment.

But he knew that even in this large, silent house he was far from safe. He must go away from here,it did not matter where. And yet he did not at all welcome the idea of going away. How thrilling it had been to read about the heroic Garibaldi! How he had envied him! But now he realised that Garibaldi's must have been a hard life, hounded as he was from place to place. He, Pavel, had only lived through seven days of misery and torment, yet it had seemed like a whole year.

No, clearly he was not cut out to be a hero.

"What are you thinking about?" Tonya asked, bending over toward him. The deep blue of her eyes seemed fathomless.

"Tonya, shall I tell you about Khristina?"

"Yes, do," Tonya urged him.

He told her the sad story of his fellow-captive.

The clock ticked loudly in the silence as he ended his story: ".. .And that was the last we saw of her," his words came with difficulty. Tonya's head dropped and she had to bite her lips to force back the tears.

Pavel looked at her. "1 must go away tonight," he said with finality.

"No, no, 1 shan't let you go anywhere tonight."

She stroked his bristly hair tenderly with her slim warm fingers. . . .

"Tonya, you must help me. Someone must go to the station and find out what has happened to Artem and take a note to Seryozha. I have a revolver hidden in a crow's nest. I daren't go for it, but Seryozha can get it for me. Will you be able to do this for me?"

Tonya got up.

"I'll go to Liza Sukharko right away. She and I will go to the station together. Write your note and I'll take it to Seryozha. Where does he live? Shall I tell him where you are if he should want to see you?"

Pavel considered for a moment before replying. "Tell him to bring the gun to your garden this evening."

It was very late when Tonya returned. Pavel was fast asleep. The touch of her hand awoke him and he opened his eyes to find her standing over him, smiling happily.

"Artem is coming here soon. He has just come back. Liza's father has agreed to vouch for him and they're letting him go for an hour. The engine is standing at the station. I couldn't tell him you are here. I just told him I had something very important to tell him. There he is now!"

Tonya ran to open the door. Artem stood in the doorway dumb with amazement, unable to believe his eyes. Tonya closed the door behind him so that her father, who was lying ill with typhus in the study, might not overhear them.

Another moment and Artem was giving Pavel a bear's hug that made his bones crack, and crying:

"Pavel! My little brother!"

And so it was decided: Pavel was to leave the next day. Artem would arrange for Bruzzhak to take him on a train bound for Kazatin.

Artem, usually grave and reserved, was now almost beside himself with joy at having found his brother after so many days of anxiety and uncertainty.

"Then it's settled. Tomorrow morning at five you'll be at the warehouse. While they're loading on fuel you can slip in. I wish I could stay and have a chat with you but I must be getting back. I'll see you off tomorrow. They're making up a battalion of railwaymen. We go about under an armed escort just like when the Germans were here."

Artem said good-bye to his brother and left.

Dusk gathered fast, Sergei would be arriving soon with the revolver. While he waited, Pavel paced nervously up and down the dark room. Tonya and her mother were with the forest warden.

He met Sergei in the darkness by the fence and the two friends shook hands warmly. Sergei had brought Valya with him. They conversed in low tones.

"I haven't brought the gun," Sergei said. "That backyard of yours is thick with Petlyura men. There are carts standing all over the place and they had a bonfire going. So I couldn't climb the tree to get the gun. It's a damn shame." Sergei was much put out.

"Never mind," Pavel consoled him. "Perhaps it's just as well. It would be worse if I happened to be caught on the way with the gun. But make sure you get hold of it."

Valya moved closer to Pavel.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow, at daybreak."

"How did you manage to get away? Tell us."

In a rapid whisper Pavel told them his story. Then he took leave of his comrades. The jolly Sergei was unusually silent.

"Good luck, Pavel, don't forget us," Valya said in a choking voice.

And with that they left him, the darkness swallowing them up in an instant.

Inside the house all was quiet. The measured ticking of the clock was the only sound in the stillness.

For two of the house's inmates there was no thought of sleep that night. How could they sleep when in six hours they were to part, perhaps never to meet again. Was it possible in that brief space of time to give utterance to the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seethed within them?

Youth, sublime youth, when passion, as yet unknown, is only dimly felt in a quickening of the pulse; when your hand coming in chance contact with your sweetheart's breast trembles as if affrighted and falters, and when the sacred friendship of youth guards you from the final step!

What can be sweeter than to feel her arm about your neck and her burning kiss on your lips.

It was the second kiss they had exchanged throughout their friendship. Pavel, who had experienced many a beating but never a caress except from his mother, was stirred to the depths of his being. Hitherto life had shown him its most brutal side, and he had not known it could be such a glorious thing; now this girl had taught him what happiness could mean.

He breathed the perfume of her hair and seemed to see her eyes in the darkness.

"I love you so, Tonya, I can't tell you how much, for I don't know how to say it."

His brain was in a whirl. How responsive her supple body. . . . But youth's friendship is a sacred trust.

"Tonya, when all this mess is over I'm bound to get a job as a mechanic, and if you really want me, if you're really serious and not just playing with me, I'll be a good husband to you. I'll never beat you, never do anything to hurt you, I swear it."

Fearing to fall asleep in each other's arms—lest Tonya's mother find them and think ill of them—they separated.

Day was breaking when they fell asleep after having made a solemn compact never to forget one another.

Yekaterina Mikhailovna woke Pavel early. He jumped quickly out of bed. While he was in the bathroom, putting on his own clothes and boots, with Dolinnik's jacket on top, Yekaterina Mikhailovna woke Tonya.

They hurried through the grey morning mist to the station. When they reached the timber yards by the back way they found Artem waiting impatiently for them beside the loaded tender.

A powerful engine moved up slowly, enveloped in clouds of hissing steam. Bruzzhak looked out of the cab.

Pavel bid Tonya and Artem a hasty farewell, then gripped the iron rail and climbed up into the engine. Looking back he saw two familiar figures at the crossing: the tall figure of Artem and the small graceful form of Tonya beside him. The wind tore angrily at the collar of her blouse and tossed her chestnut hair. She waved to him.

Artem glanced at Tonya out of the corner of his eye and noticing that she was on the verge of tears, he sighed.

"I'll be damned if there isn't something up between these two," he said to himself. "And me thinking Pavel is still a little boy!"

When the train disappeared behind the bend he turned to Tonya and said: "Well, shall we be friends?" And Tonya's tiny hand was lost in his huge paw.