Page:The Career of a Nihilist.djvu/24

survey the ground, and see what can be done towards the rescue of Boris.”

“Oh, they are thinking of that! I am so glad,” said Andrey. “Another reason for my hastening home.”

The passage referring to Boris was followed by a list of the other victims who had recently fallen into the hands of the police. The forthcoming trials were mentioned, and the Draconian sentences foretold, according to secret information obtained from officials. The melancholy news about the friends who were in prison was briefly summarised,—all this in the calm business-like way in which reports upon the dead and wounded are drawn up after a battle.

The reverse side of the underground struggle oozed sadly out drop by drop. There was no possibility of swallowing the bitter draught at once. At the mention of some particularly sad piece of news, they could not refrain from exchanging a few words. Otherwise they went on with their work uninterruptedly, keeping their feelings to themselves.

They now got on much more rapidly than before. George’s ciphering became steadier, and the unravelling went on almost without a hitch. After the dreary record of losses and sufferings, they entered upon pleasanter ground. Here George mentioned briefly, but with a faith and fervour all his own, the rapid progress of the movement in general, instancing the great fermentation of spirit which could be observed everywhere.

It was like a war-cry after a walk over a battlefield, or the look of a sunny landscape after a visit to the catacombs. The egotism of life, with its rights and its excitements, crept upon them, and they emerged from their dreary journey in much higher spirits than they could have expected.

“Yes, there will be a smash before long!” exclaimed Lena, in exultation, though she was a very orthodox “peasantist,” and all the matters George alluded to were in direct opposition to the articles of her belief.

She rose to stretch her numbed limbs by walking to and fro. Presently she took the letter, carefully dried it over the lamp, and lit a match with the evident intention of setting fire to it.

“Oh, don’t!” interposed Andrey, quickly.

“Why? haven’t you copied the address?”

“Yes, but I want to keep the letter for a while.”

“What for? that it might fall into some stranger’s hands?” retorted the girl sharply.