“You surprise me!” exclaimed Ivan, yielding to flattery, so difficult for youth to resist when administered to the very points on which he probably prides himself; “I did not deem myself of sufficient importance to have notice taken of my words and actions.”
“I speak but the truth respecting you,” answered his companion. “Say, do you not abhor despotism and tyranny? Do you not cherish the love of freedom, and the happiness of your fellow-creatures?”
“I both detest tyranny and love freedom,” answered Ivan; “but what service can my single arm afford, either to overthrow the one, or to defend the other?”
“Much,” hastily responded the stranger. “You do not stand alone. Your principles are supported by thousands of spirits, noble as your own. The sacred cause of liberty must, and will be triumphant over all her base opponents.”
“I fear that our chains are too securely rivetted, to be wrenched asunder,” answered Ivan, “and too many are interested in forging fresh links to leave us hope of freeing ourselves, even at the sacrifice of our heart’s blood.”
“You labour under a false impression, my young friend,” answered his companion; “for all classes join heart and soul in this glorious work. Indeed, the Despot has no greater enemies than many among the highest in the land, who feel their chains more galling than do the humble serfs; again I ask you, do you not wish success to their gallant spirits engaged in the noble attempt?”
“Most earnestly do I hope they may succeed,” said Ivan.
“Enough,” answered the conspirator, for such he declared himself, “I need test you no more; for I place implicit confidence in you. This evening, the advocates of Russian Liberty hold a meeting, and, as I anticipate that ere long you will join them with heart and hand, I will introduce you to them.”
“Lead – and I will follow,” replied Ivan, with enthusiasm; “my heart yearns to join any who advocate so noble a cause, and I trust I may not prove unworthy of it.”
“No time must then be lost; e’en now they are assembled,” rejoined his companion, “their place of council is at some distance, and speak not, till I give the word, for we shall be obliged to pass the police patrols, ever watchful and vigilant.”
“Forward then,” said Ivan, “and rely on my prudence.”
The conspirator stealthily led the way down a path to the margin of the river, where they found a small skiff, capable of containing three persons – a rower resting on his oars being already seated, who, on a signal from the former, pulled rapidly down the stream. Continuing their course in silence for some time, the oarsman abruptly ceased rowing, and the little bark glided swiftly into a dark and narrow creek on the opposite bank of the river. Ivan followed his guide on shore, while the boat held her course again down the narrow stream.
As they advanced, lights were visible in the apartments of many handsome buildings, and Ivan found himself in a respectable part of the city, though one in which many vestiges still remained of the devastating conflagration which had reduced Moscow to ashes. His guide threaded in his way many lanes, and traversed wide streets, till suddenly retreating to the back of a handsome mansion, that had lately been raised from the ruins which surrounded it, he gave a low and peculiar knock at a wicket gate, opening apparently into a garden. The signal on being twice repeated, was answered by a decrepit old man, with a long beard and tattered dress, who unclosed the gate, but instantly relocked it, as the two visitors entered.
“Who is it,” said he, “seeking to disturb the old serf Kersoff at this late hour? – If any wish to buy his garden produce, let them come by daylight, and not rouse him from his bed.”
The guide whispered a word in the old man’s ear, and he retired to his hut by the side of the gate.
The light afforded by the starry heavens enabled Ivan to distinguish the appearance of the place where he stood, which seemed to have been a large garden, now filled with ruins; apparently the remains of buildings of considerable extent.
Passing over heaps of rubbish, his guide stopped at what appeared to be a small summer house – also in a ruinous state; the same signal as before was given, and the door opening, admitted them into an apartment in total darkness.
Ivan for a moment hesitated to follow; the idea of some diabolical treachery – such as he had heard of too often – again rushing on his mind; yet, quickly determining to brave the worst, he prepared to go on. His guide spoke a few words to the person who had admitted them, and who yet remained concealed, and then offered his hand to Ivan to conduct him onwards.
“The neophyte must pass through darkness before he can reach the light,” he whispered; “but fear not, it will soon burn brightly on you. Ah! I feel your pulse beats calm and regular, such are the nerves we require; do not speak now.”
They descended a flight of steps, narrow and winding, till they were again stopped by another door, which was opened, on the like signal as before being given, without the porter being visible, and they found themselves in a small chamber, lighted by a single dim lamp suspended from the ceiling. The walls were hung with black; a chair, and a table, on which were placed a skull and cross bones, an hour glass, and writing materials, were the only furniture.
His guide again spoke. “This,” said he, “is the chamber of meditation; if you doubt, you may draw back. Stir not from hence till I return, when I will lead you to undergo your ordeal, should you still nobly keep to your determination of engaging in our cause. I need not tell you not to fear, or to shrink from an ordeal which you will pass through with ease, though it may fright nerveless fools. I now go to prepare the friends of freedom for your coming; adieu!” Saying which, the conspirator disappeared through a door opposite to the one by which they had entered, and which closed with a loud noise behind him.
Ivan looked round, not a door was visible; he was a prisoner, he knew not where. Left to his own reflections, he half repented the step he had taken.
“I like not this mummery,” thought he. “How weak I have been to put such implicit trust in a man of whom I know so little. He may, after all, have deceived me; but it is now too late to retract, and if deceived, I must suffer for my folly, and will boldly carry through the adventure.” He threw himself on the chair. “Emblem of mortality!” he exclaimed, looking at the skull, “to this must we all come, and to a brave man, what terrors canst thou bring? Death, what have we to fear in thee? Why, then, should I hesitate, when thou, happen what may, must be the victor at last! Thou art, at the same time, the mighty despot of all, and the only true dispenser of liberty! Thou canst conquer the proudest potentates, and make all men equal – and yet I fear not thee; then, why should I fear aught else? Time flies quickly; I learn this lesson, that one must not delay when work is to be done!” His eye caught sight of a sheet of paper, on which were inscribed several questions. He seized the pen, and wrote appropriate answers. He remained lost in thought. “Yes,” he exclaimed, “the die is cast; I will plunge boldly in, nor dream of retracting.”
He had just come to this conclusion, when suddenly, three dark figures stood before him enveloped in cloaks, and their features concealed by masks.
“You must consent to be for a time deprived of sight,” said one, “ere the true light can shine on you. Are you ready to undergo your ordeal?”
“I am prepared for every ceremony necessary,” answered Ivan; “do as you will!”
One of the dark figures advanced, a handkerchief was tightly bound over his eyes, and he felt his hand grasped by some one.
“Follow me,” said a voice, “we have a long and toilsome road to take, full of difficulties and perils, such as you dream not of finding here; but true courage and perseverance will carry you through all dangers.”
“Lead on then,” said Ivan, “I am eager to undertake the journey.”
Ivan felt that he was led from the chamber, when a sudden rush of cold air met him, almost stopping his breath. He then seemed to be climbing over rough rocks, from which he had to spring to others, following the guide’s directions; then a torrent