The poem recited, all united to congratulate the youthful Tyrtaeus; while Zeneida, with eyes filled with tears, kissed him on both cheeks.
Pushkin, annoyed, looked away. For a woman to kiss a man is the accepted custom in Russian society. Ghedimin scarcely heeded Zeneida"s action, and he certainly had the best right to demur; but Pushkin was plainly annoyed by it. He envied Ryleieff: envied him the kiss; how much more the poem which answered its purpose--_faute de mieux_!
"The verses are splendid!" exclaimed Prince Ghedimin. "We will have a million copies of them struck off in Lunin"s press, and distributed among the peasants."
"You forget, Prince," put in Zeneida, "that our peasants cannot read. I would suggest it were more practical to have the poem set to music, that it might be diffused more rapidly among them. In that way it would pa.s.s from field to field; mowers, reapers, wagoners, would carry it from village to village, and what is once sung among them never dies out. In our Finnish _Volkslieder_ has lived the history of the nation, the traditions of its historical life, its freedom. These no man can take away. The _Ma.r.s.eillaise_ alone raised an army in France."
"But to whom confide the setting of it to music?" asked the Prince.
"Here is Herr Pushkin," said Zeneida. "He composes charming melodies."
Pushkin felt as if stung by a tarantula.
He compose the melody to Ryleieff"s song of freedom! Subordination can be carried to a nicety of perfection. A state councillor, when he puts on the uniform of a private of volunteers, may find he has to obey the orders of his own chancery clerk and corporal; or a duke, if he become a freemason, have to make obeisance to a bootmaker, as master of the lodge; but for one poet to be called upon to write the music to another poet"s effusion, when he feels himself to be Caesar and the other man Pompey, is a sheer impossibility.
Pushkin"s face crimsoned.
"To the best of my belief, the words and air of the _Ma.r.s.eillaise_ were composed at one and the same time. Rouget de l"Isle wrote them together.
Nor can it be otherwise. The poet alone can find the fitting inspiration. Ryleieff"s poem is fine, very fine, but it does not inflame and excite one. To such an end the fire of enthusiasm is a necessity."
And unconsciously he slapped his breast, as though to say, "And it is here."
"Do you know, Pushkin," said Zeneida, "if you are really feeling the poetic ardor of which you speak--if you think you can compose something better than we have here, you could not do better than to retire into this little side chamber; there you will find piano and writing-table.
Give us something better suited to our purpose!"
Pushkin was caught.
"Why not? I will write you a song which the peasant will not need to take first to the priest to have its meaning explained to him."
And with that he looked straight into Zeneida"s eyes, with a look which said, "If you can bestow a kiss for Ryleieff"s rhymes, what will you give me when I put on paper the words that burn in my heart?"
Rising, he repaired to the inner room. Soon the sound of chords showed him to be deep in poetic creation. When once thus absorbed, a man does not lightly break off.
Zeneida had no better wish for him.
As Pushkin left the room Zeneida turned the roulette-board. The ball stopped at Nicholas Turgenieff. He was thus made President of the Council that day, and accordingly took the chair--made to resemble that of the banker of a roulette-table.
And now Prince Ghedimin, drawing out a delicate little polished key, which fitted into a keyhole revealed by pushing aside a bra.s.s b.u.t.ton, handed it to the President, who turned it twice in the lock. Hereupon the copper slab, upon which the roulette-board was fixed, slid to the other end of the long table, disclosing, in the part thus laid open, "the green book." One single lamp hanging from the ceiling illuminated the figures of those sitting there, looking, by its light, like statues in a museum; every feature seemed to gain in sharpness of outline; their immobility lending character and determination to their faces; so many historical subjects destined either to rise to eminence, the idols of the people, or to fall under the hand of the executioner. In those few moments, devoted to silent reflection, which each man seemed to be engaged in studying his neighbor, many were looking upon the other for the first time, and appeared to be mentally comparing the reality with the ideal previously formed. The members of the Southern Confederation had never before met their Polish brother. Many of them had seen Jakuskin ten years before, but then he was a merry youth with clean-shaven face. That has all disappeared. He is now a wild man of the woods, who only smiles when he speaks of murder. Leaning against the President"s chair is Zeneida; att.i.tude and figure alike recall statues of the "Republic," only that instead of a dagger she holds a bouquet in her hand sent her by her rival. A dagger in disguise. Besides those we have already named, the following historical personages were present: the three brothers Bestuseff, Prince Trubetzkoi Obolensky, Korsofski, Urbuseff, Peslien, Orloff, Konovitzin, Odojefski, Setkof, Sutsin, Battenkoff, Rostopschin, Rosen, Steinkal, Arsibuseff, Annenkoff, Oustofski, and Muravieff Apostol, all representatives of the many wide-spread secret societies.
Ryleieff, the secretary, opened "the green book."
The President desired him to read out the business done during the last sitting.
It concerned the working out of a plan of const.i.tutional government for the whole Russian empire; its t.i.tle--"Ruskaja Pravda." It was a republic in which every province that the Russian despot had annexed to form one vast empire was to arise as an independent state under its individual president--Great Russia, Little Russia, Finland, Poland, Livland, Kasan, Siberia, the Crimea, the Caucasus; nine republics with one government and one army, under the control of one Directorate, to hold its sittings at Moscow.
The Republic needed no St. Petersburg. Neither the "Saint," nor the "Peter," nor the "burg" (city).
The device upon the plan was--
Question: "Will Europe in fifty years" time be republican or Russian?"
To which the answer was--"Both."
This plan of const.i.tution was painted with the colors of a glowing fancy. First, to free every people, and then to unite all free peoples!
None to be oppressed by the other. Each to be left to choose his own way to prosperity, speak his own tongue, cultivate his own land. No more hatred or jealousy among nations.
So it stood in "the green book."
Prince Ghedimin was the first to speak.
"It is a grand idea; but the greatest obstacle in the way of freeing the people is that the people are unconscious of their servitude. Let it be our part to make it clear to them. Let us flood the land with catechisms of the "free man"; let us study the special grievances of every race in the provinces; learn to know their want and misery, and win them to the cause of freedom by promising them redress. A people suffers when it is hungry; has to submit to blows; has its sons taken off to be soldiers; but it is ignorant of the yoke that is bowing down its neck."
Pestel waited impatiently until he could speak.
"My dear Prince, your plan may be very good for such as can afford to wait fifty years and build card houses, which fall to pieces at every current of air. We have not the time to devote to philosophical theories. We count upon the army and the aristocracy. The power once in our hands, we can take our measures to secure the education of the ma.s.ses. A revolution left in their hands would lead to another Pugatsef revolt."
"And would that be a bad thing?" asked Jakuskin, in a hoa.r.s.e voice, advancing to them from the corner where he was seated.
"It would be bad because there could be no organization. He who would carry out our scheme must be master of the situation. In Russia, the successful leader of an insurgent movement would only be another tyrant.
Our scheme must be carried out simultaneously, at the word of command, throughout all Russia. No sooner that done than every secret society is abandoned, and we suppress all conspiracies; and, hateful as is now the system of police detectives, it must, in future, be raised to an honorable calling. Every man of mind, every free man, and every patriot must be proud to make himself a police-agent of a free country. All this must come about at the stroke of a magic wand."
"And what do you propose to do under the stroke of the magic wand with the Czar and the Grand Dukes?" asked Jakuskin, with chilling irony.
"Make them prisoners, convey them on board a man-of-war, and ship them off to the New World."
"Humph! to the other world! In Charon"s boat," hissed out the Caucasian soldier; and, going up to the table, he struck it with his clinched fist. "Hark ye, envoys of the North and South, members of your various virtuous and benevolent societies, you are all on a wrong tack, you deceive yourselves. There is but one answer to the question I put to you: scatter their ashes to the four winds. I am no puling child, such as you are. I have not covered two thousand versts to come here and hear you thresh out your philosophical theses; I am here to act."
Ryleieff here interrupted the speaker with quiet dignity.
"Quite right. But you will act as the majority decide."
At this call to order the vehement Caucasian"s blood boiled within him.
"Once I was young like you, Ryleieff; but that is long past. Once I, too, believed that one only needed to be a good man one"s self to make the world better. I, too, had then as young and lovely a betrothed as you now have; I was an officer in the guards, and at twenty had distinguished myself in ten battles. And do you know what happened to me? The evening before my wedding-day, Araktseieff"s son, a worthless fellow who did not even know how to buckle on his sword, and who had been made colonel over me, stole away my bride. I challenged him in mortal combat, and the dastardly coward, instead of accepting my challenge, denounced me to the Czar, and I was exiled to the Caucasus.
As, with h.e.l.l in my heart, I was taking my leave of the city, the last thing that met my eyes was the body of a drowned girl brought to me. It was my bride. I kissed her. I still feel the chill of that kiss upon my lips, and I shall feel it until the blood wipes it out, for which I long as keenly as any cannibal. When you are in Czarskoje Zelo look at a certain finely painted battle-piece. Close behind the Czar you will see a youth on a rearing horse, a youth wielding his sword high in air, his face beaming with triumph and loyalty. That youth was I! Years have quenched my enthusiasm; but my sword still swings over his head."
"And so I trust it may remain, ever wielded on high as in the picture."
"But that it will not!" cried Jakuskin, vehemently. "I swear it by the devil they sent into my heart as its constant indweller, I will listen to naught else but my eternal vengeance! You may fill your "green book"
with resolutions--this is my determination!" And as he waved his arm aloft, he extracted a hidden dagger from his coat-sleeve, and displayed its glittering surface to the company.
Horrified, Ryleieff, springing up, drew forth a pistol from a side-pocket and levelled it at Jakuskin"s breast.
"And I swear that I will shoot you down on the spot if you venture to a.s.sert yourself against our rules."
"Very well, then, shoot me down! Fire away, boy!" growled Jakuskin, tearing open his coat and presenting his bare breast to the mouth of the pistol. "And learn from me how to die."
"Obey the rules, Jakuskin! Take back your word!" shouted several, as they rushed up to pacify the infuriated man.