trained in the methods of Gounsovski, and it does them a cruel
injury, which I resent, for that matter, personally, to treat them this
way. But let that go, as a matter of sentiment, and return to the simple
fact itself, which proves your excessive imprudence, not to say more,
and which involves you, you alone, in a responsibility of which you
certainly have not measured the importance. All in all, I consider that
you have strangely abused the complete authority that I gave you upon
the Emperor's orders. When I learned what you had done I went to find
the Tsar, as was my duty, and told him the whole thing. He was more
astonished than can be expressed. He directed me to go myself to find
out just how things were and to furnish the general the guard you had
removed. I arrive at the isles and not only find the villa open like a
mill where anyone may enter, but I am informed, and then I see, that the
general is promenading in the midst of the crowd, at the mercy of the
first miserable venturer. Monsieur Rouletabille, I am not satisfied. The
Tsar is not satisfied. And, within an hour, my men will return to assume
their guard at the datcha."
Rouletabille listened to the end. No one ever had spoken to him in that
tone. He was red, and as ready to burst as a child's balloon blown too
hard. He said:
"And I will take the train this evening."
"You will go?"
"Yes, and you can guard your general all alone. I have had enough of it.
Ah, you are not satisfied! Ah, the Tsar is not satisfied! It is too
bad. No more of it for me. Monsieur, I am not satisfied, and I say
Good-evening to you. Only do not forget to send me from here every three
or four days a letter which will keep me informed of the health of the
general, whom I love dearly. I will offer up a little prayer for him."
Thereupon he was silent, for he caught the glance of Matrena Petrovna,
a glance so desolated, so imploring, so desperate, that the poor woman
inspired him anew with great pity. Natacha had not returned. What was
the young girl doing at that moment? If Matrena really loved Natacha
she must be suffering atrociously. Koupriane spoke; Rouletabille did
not hear him, and he had already forgotten his own anger. His spirit was
wrapped in the mystery.
"Monsieur," Koupriane finished by saying, tugging his sleeve, "do you
hear me? I pray you at least reply to me. I offer all possible excuses
for speaking to you in that tone. I reiterate them. I ask your pardon.
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