The Black Cross

orts, Monsi

out the precious papers. His manner was cold and indifferent, and his eye

osely over her face. She was tapping the panels of the door

l if it had not been for the strangeness of such an attire in a railway station, and the cluster of anxious, humble officials bowing and gesticulating about him. The Ch

onsieur, she

o Velasco, was like the passing of a b

" he returned curtly. "It is so

is plain, quite clear. Will you be g

eat, supporting herself, with her hands pressed down on the cushions

y, "but I said: 'your veil.' Kindly raise it at on

f his shirt front, half screened by the fur, glea

de open and blazing: "Stand back, you impudent scoundr

sed and immediately; you are keeping the whole train back. What do you suppose I am here for?" Th

ent. "Stop," she whispered to Velasco. "Don't get angry;

blue and dark, like two pools without a bottom, and her lips pressed together, quivering slightly. Velasco s

s beautiful, not in the whole length and breadth of your cursed country. Look-while you have the

another moment the Chief had stepped back, and the under o

at once and don't let them out of your hands. 'Peter and P

ed; they were bound like sheep and dragged, first one, then

fellow; don't let him speak! Is the woman secur

of the runners, their flesh cut and bruised by the ropes, their mouths parched and pa

ps and dim windings until finally a door clicked and opened. They were thrust inside, their bindings were cut, and the door clicked again, slamming in its socket with the sickeni

me in little gasps through her parted lips and she moaned as she lay. Velasco had dragged himself to his knees and was peering about him, feeli

ny-things are crawling! Good heavens, something ran over my foot!-It must be a rat, s

the mass of his dark curls. He had turned half away and was wringing his hands, feeling them an

Ah, Monsie

re dead! Mon Dieu, I thought I was shut in with a corpse! It is frightful, h

nsi

ook, can you see,-are they covered with b

ieur, there

e able to play again! I am ruined-ruined-and for what? Why di

ne to you, but-listen, Monsieur-let me tell you-let me explain! I thought there was no danger, not for you, otherwise-Oh, do believe me, n

e a little and

ts; I never could bear them; and now they take me for one! I shall live here all my days-and my Stradivarius, my treasure-Heaven knows where they have put it-lying on the platform of the station, or perha

ay in the corner, but now she crouched forward

ngs, crawling-crawling; and the damp oozes dow

hoked, trembling with terror. She put out her hand and touched

ts won't hurt you. Rest on my cloak, poor child

oak; don't put it around me-no! I deserve to suffer, b

"I can't see you in this devi

ur playing that night. I saw you, and then the thought cam

le like a string under the bow. Come closer. There-one ran over my sleeve, cur

are shivering yourself, you

t of silent strug

still, and yours are like wax, soft as rose leaves. Hold it around

relaxed, her head drooped and he felt the light rings of her

tell. Put your lips to my ear. Why were we arrested, do you know? What have you done?-Ah

girl, "No-it was nothing, don't as

. I like to feel you breathing against me; your form is so little and light. Don't m

and he put his arm

stiff, it makes me frantic. I feel as if I should go mad for a moment, locked in here; and I never could bear the dark, never; not when I was a child. I see things; sounds ring in my ears. I want to cry out, and storm,

right. I could not help myself, I could not. I

e thrilling and soft like your voice; your cheek would be the arch on which my cheek rests. I would shut my eyes and play on you, and you would answer me, and we would sway together, your heart

stand if I did tell you. You are an artist and understand nothing but your art. What do you know o

flare up about; I was dreaming, I tell you! What do you know of such things yourself? Ugh! Le

"I never knew until lately, but now-now I have met the Revolutionists; they have talked to me, they have told me. They are sple

at I have-" And then she began sobbing, str

dier fighting for his flag. What are you talking about? Hush! Let me wrap you again. The rats are getting worse! C

cled her, his hand clasped her own; it was supple and the wrist was like a hinge. There was a power, an electric force in his touch, a

r Poland; how could you understand? And yet you play-my God, how you play, as if you ha

e be to make me suffer? Not until to-

rithed in an agony of mind t

like that. It is-" He shuddered. "A black depression creep

at I meant. Tell me, Monsieur,

aid, "that I can think of. I used to like my old master in Warsaw; and I have frien

ed uneasily ag

she said, "I felt some

ere, are you warm? Put your head down again. One moment you are like a boy r

Mons

ed, clingi

Say it again; don't

imes I would die rather than have brought t

e it, or you; are you there? I shouldn't know if I didn't feel you breath

and stirred

hurt my violin, my Stradivarius! If they do, I shall drown mysel

they sat silent, the girl half unconscious, Velasco

own, unrevealed. His heavy eyes gleamed through the slits. The round of his chin stiffened; his mouth took new lines. The luxurious artist personality of the musician was d

s life. His arms were around her and no one should take her from him-no one! Not the Tsar himself! She was breathing, she

dden floor of the prison, suddenly, came the first rays of dawn falling asl

rotecting gesture. His eyes were alert. He had forgotten himself; he had forgotten