Entry 47

47


... This morning Pashinsky repeated that the Em. will be taken to
Ekaterinburg with the Empress and the Heir. The daughters will stay
here for a while. "Believe me, we'll have a good time," he said,
offensively breathing in my face.

I stood near the gates of the fence when Dr. Botkin passed. Nobody was
near me, Pashinsky having gone for a drink of water into the quarters.
I said without turning my head:

"Decision taken to send only the Em. and Empress and the Heir.
Daughters will stay here." Dr. Botkin did not stop. Then, as guard, I
did not let him in, and as if I were examining him (that was my
right) I said, "Please warn the ladies, and tell the Emperor that the
Commissary did not act badly; I guess there is no danger in his going
away. I fear for the ladies only."

"You don't mean it! They double-crossed us! They assured us all would
go. The scoundrels! Now please let me go, -- and thank you, you strange
man."

I let him go.

Pashinsky appeared and looked at me. "Are you getting tired of this
muzzle, too? Isn't he a ...?"

"Yes," I said, "I must watch him closer now. I think we had better
watch him. You stay on the other side, and I'll be here near the
windows.

"All right," he said. "Then we can meet here. I'm going to walk
from the garden to the fence, and you stay right here. What is your
suspicion?"

"Nothing in particular," I answered.... "Just the ordinary one; I
don't like him. That's all."

So we walked the way he proposed. Every time he would be near the
garden, he would cough in such a noisy and sardonic way that the
Heir, who was sitting with Derevenko on the bench would turn his long,
pensive face, and his old sailor guardian would look with hatred on
the rascal.

When Pashinsky was away, the window behind me opened very cautiously
and a lady's voice said to me, "Don't turn. Is it true they are to
take Father away? Now, I know you are a gentleman. What would you
advise us to do? I think we are all lost."

Pashinsky started to come back; then a Lett passed, so the voice
stopped. Pashinsky came near me and said, "The Heir never cries when I
tease him. Believe me, he is a hard kid. What do you think if I scare
him more?"

"Yes," I said, "a stubborn child." "I must try again," and he walked
away.

The window again gave way. "Please," the same voice said, "can't
you give any advice to us? We are so frightened! Father is praying;
Mother's very ill; we are all alone."

"I'll write you," I said, (without moving my lips), "what I think and
bring it back."

"Thank you."

I went to Pashinsky, whose teasing was becoming hideous and rough.
He said to the Heir that they had decided to shoot the whole family.
Tears were on the child's face but he kept on bravely; he could not go
away -- Pashinsky was at the gate.

I wished: "Just a day or two, -- and I will be able to do something. Oh,
God! Send something to stop it right now."

I guess that my prayer was heard.

The tutor's face, -- one of those broad Russian faces, -- gradually grew
purple and then grey. Slowly, and hypnotising Pashinsky, he approached
the scamp, took him by the collar and pulled him towards the fence.
Then, losing his breath, Derevenko said, "Leave the boy alone,
you scoundrel! You, -- you call yourself a Russian sailor? You? Have
this...." and the slap on Pashinsky's face sounded to me like Chopin's
First Nocturne. What divine music!

I expected a clash. But no! The rifle fell out of Pashinsky's hands
and, silent and tamed, with half-closed eyes, he was waiting for
another smash. Then Derevenko saw me and thought I was going to shoot
him, but I made no such move. I slipped away and went innocently
towards the big gate. So, when Pashinsky came to me -- he was sure I
had seen nothing, and when I asked how the teasing was going on, he
answered:

"Oh, I let this trash go. It annoys me."

The left side of his face was inflamed and tears were frozen on his
eyes. It was a good one, by God!

After this incident I turned to the quarters "for a drink of water"
and wrote a little note that "nothing bad could happen to the
Princesses when they were alone" and that, "I shall exert all in my
power to prevent any disagreeable happenings." I wrote that I knew
some people were working to save them. My letter, I thought, would
brace them up and would give them an idea that there was, amongst
these beasts -- one, that would not be an enemy. In case of a struggle
this idea would keep them from losing hope and their power of
resistance. Then I added that I could be found in the hotel, and that
Dr. Botkin knew me.

Contemplating my scratchings, I went over to the window; somebody was
patiently waiting and looking around, for the voice said:

"I am so glad Derevenko slapped this awful man."

"I am too, your Highness. Now -- there is a letter. I'll put it on the
bayonette and stay still; you take it."

Pashinsky passed near me talking with another Red. He felt badly I am
sure, -- he did not look at me.

I rolled the piece of paper, stuck it on the edge of the sharp
bayonette and putting the rifle on my shoulder, directed it towards
the window. I felt when it was taken. Then I joined my fellow jailers.