X

The chief of police Kokoshkin was aroused, and the arrival of Svinin, who had come on important business, that could not be postponed, was reported to him.

The general got up at once and, with an overcoat wrapped round him, wiping his forehead, yawning and stretching himself, came out to receive Svinin. Kokoshkin listened with great attention, but quite calmly, to all Svinin had to relate. During all these explanations and requests for indulgence he only said:

“The soldier left his sentry-box, and saved a man?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Svinin.

“And the sentry-box?”

“Remained empty during that time.”

“H’m! I knew that it remained empty. I’m very pleased that nobody stole it.”

Hearing this Svinin felt certain that the general knew all about the case, and that he had already decided in what manner he would place the facts before the Emperor in his morning’s report, and also that he would not alter this decision. Otherwise such an event as a soldier of the Palace Guard having left his post would without doubt have caused greater alarm to the energetic chief of police.

But Kokoshkin did not know anything about it. The police inspector to whom the officer of the Invalid Corps had conveyed the man saved from drowning did not consider it a matter of great importance. In his sight it was not at all a subject that required him to awaken the weary chief of police in the middle of the night, and besides the whole event appeared to the inspector somewhat suspicious, because the officer of the Invalids’ was quite dry, which certainly could not have been the case if he had saved a man from drowning at the risk of his own life. The inspector looked upon the officer as an ambitious liar, who wanted to obtain another medal for his breast, and therefore detained him while the clerk on duty was taking down his statement, and tried to arrive at the truth by asking about all sorts of minute details.

It was disagreeable for the inspector that such an event should have occurred in his district, and that the man had been saved, not by a policeman but by an officer of the Palace Guard.

Kokoshkin’s calmness could be explained very simply: first, by his terrible fatigue, after a day of anxiety and hard work, and by his having assisted in the night at the extinguishing of two fires, and secondly because the act of the sentry Postnikov did not concern him, as Chief of Police, at all.

Nevertheless, Kokoshkin at once gave the necessary instructions.

He sent to the Inspector of the Admiralty Quarter and ordered him to come at once and bring the officer of the Invalid Corps and the man who had been saved with him, and asked Svinin to remain in the small waiting room adjoining his office. Then Kokoshkin went into his study, without closing the door, sat down at the table, and began to sign various papers, but he soon rested his head on his hand and fell asleep in his arm-chair at the table.

XI

In those days there were neither municipal telegraphs nor telephones, and in order to transmit the commands of the chiefs the “forty thousand couriers” of whom Gogol has left a lasting memory in his comedy had to ride post haste in all directions.

This of course was not so quickly done as by telegraph or telephone, but lent considerable animation to the town and proved that the authorities were indefatigably vigilant.

Before the breathless inspector, the life-saving officer, and the man rescued from drowning had time to come from the Admiralty police station the nervous and energetic General Kokoshkin had had time to have a snooze and refresh himself. This was seen in the expression of his face, and by the revival of his mental faculties.

Kokoshkin ordered all who had arrived to come to his study and with them Svinin too.

“The official report?” the General demanded of the Inspector.

The latter silently handed a folded paper to the General and then whispered in a low voice:

“I must beg permission to communicate a few words to your Excellency in private.”

“Very well.”

Kokoshkin went towards the bay-window followed by the Inspector.

“What is it?”

The Inspector’s indistinct whispers could be heard, and the General’s loud interjections.

“H’m, yes! Well, what then?… It is possible.… They take care to come out dry… Anything more?”

“Nothing, sir.”

The General came out of the bay-window, sat down at his desk, and began to read. He read the report in silence without showing any signs of uneasiness or suspicion, and then turning to the man who had been saved, asked in a loud voice:

“How comes it, my friend, that you got into the open places before the Palace?”

“Forgive me!”

“So! You were drunk?”

“Excuse me, I was not drunk, but only tipsy.”

“Why did you get into the water?”

“I wanted to cut across the ice, lost my way, and got into the water.”

“That means it was dark before your eyes.”

“It was dark; it was dark all round, your Excellency.”

“And you were not able to notice who pulled you out?”

“Pardon me, I could not notice anything. I think it was he” – he pointed to the officer and added: “I could not distinguish anything. I was so scared.”

“That’s what it comes to. You were loafing about when you ought to have been asleep. Now look at him well and remember who was your benefactor. An honourable man risked his life to save you.”

“I shall never forget it.”

“Your name, sir?”

The officer mentioned his name.

“Do you hear?”

“I hear, your Excellency.”

“You are Orthodox?”

“I am Orthodox, your Excellency.”

“In your prayers for health, remember this man’s name.”

“I will write it down, your Excellency.”

“Pray to God for him, and go away. You are no longer wanted.”

He bowed to the ground and cleared off immeasurably pleased that he was released.

Svinin stood there, and could not understand how by God’s grace things were taking such a turn.

XII

Kokoshkin turned to the officer of the Invalid Corps.

“You saved this man, at the risk of your own life?”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

“There were no witnesses to this occurrence, and owing to the late hour there could not have been any?”

“Yes, your Excellency, it was dark, and on the quay there was nobody except the sentry.”

“There is no need to mention the sentry; the sentry has to stand at his post and has no right to occupy himself with anything else. I believe what is written in this report. Was it not taken down from your words?”

These words Kokoshkin pronounced with special emphasis, as if he were threatening or shouting.

The officer did not falter, but with staring eyes and expanded chest, standing at attention, answered:

“From my words and quite correctly, your Excellency.”

“Your action deserves a reward.”

The officer bowed gratefully.

“There is nothing to thank for,” continued Kokoshkin. “I shall report your self-sacrificing act to His Majesty the Emperor, and your breast may be decorated with a medal even to-day. Now you may go home, have a warm drink, and don’t leave the house, as perhaps you may be wanted.”

The officer of the Invalid Corps beamed all over, bowed and retired.

Kokoshkin looking after him said:

“It is possible that the Emperor may wish to see him.”

“I understand,” answered the Inspector, with apprehension.

“I do not require you any more.”

The Inspector left the room, closed the door, and in accordance with his religious habit crossed himself.

The officer of the Invalids’ was waiting for the Inspector below, and they went away together much better friends than when they had come.

Only Svinin remained in the study of the Chief of Police. Kokoshkin looked at him long and attentively, and then asked:

“You have not been to the Grand Duke?”

At that time when the Grand Duke was mentioned everybody knew that it referred to the Grand Duke Michael.

“I came straight to you,” answered Svinin.

“Who was the officer on guard?”

“Captain Miller.”

Kokoshkin again looked at Svinin and said:

“I think you told me something different before.”

Svinin did not understand to what this could refer, and remained silent, and Kokoshkin added:

“Well, it’s all the same; good night.”

The audience was over.

XIII

About one o’clock the officer of the Invalids, was really sent for by Kokoshkin, who informed him most amiably the Emperor was very much pleased that among the officers of the Invalids’ Corps of his palace there were to be found such vigilant and self-sacrificing men, and had honoured him with the medal for saving life. Then Kokoshkin decorated the hero with his own hands, and the officer went away to swagger about town with the medal on his breast.

This affair could therefore be considered as quite finished, but Lieutenant-Colonel Svinin felt it was not concluded and regarded himself as called upon to put the dots on the “i’s.”

He had been so much alarmed that he was ill for three days, and on the fourth drove to the Peter House, had a service of thanksgiving said for him before the icon of the Saviour, and returning home reassured in his soul, sent to ask Captain Miller to come to him.

“Well, thank God, Nikolai Ivanovich,” he said to Miller,” the storm that was hanging over us has entirely passed away, and our unfortunate affair with the sentry has been quite settled. I think we can now breathe freely. All this we owe without doubt first to the mercy of God, and secondly to General Kokoshkin. Let people say he is not kind and heartless, but I am full of gratitude for his magnanimity and respect for his resourcefulness and tact. In what a masterly way he took advantage of that vainglorious Invalid swindler, who, in truth, for his impudence ought to have received not a medal but a good thrashing in the stable. There was nothing else for him to do; he had to take advantage of this to save many, and Kokoshkin manœuvred the whole affair so cleverly that nobody had the slightest unpleasantness; on the contrary, all are very happy and contented. Between ourselves, I can tell you, I have been informed by a reliable person that Kokoshkin is very satisfied with me. He was pleased I had not gone anywhere else, but came straight to him, and that I did not argue with this swindler, who received a medal. In a word, nobody has suffered, and all has been done with so much tact that there can be no fear for the future; but there is one thing wanting on our side. We must follow Kokoshkin’s example and finish the affair with tact on our side, so as to guarantee ourselves from any future occurrences. There is still one person whose position is not regulated. I speak of Private Postnikov. He is still lying in prison under arrest, no doubt troubled with the thoughts of what will be done to him. We must put an end to his torments.”

“Yes, it is time,” said Miller, delighted.

“Well, certainly, and you are the best man to do it. Please go at once to the barracks call your company together, lead Private Postnikov out of prison, and let him be punished with two hundred lashes before the whole company.”