LAND & WATER 
March 29, 1917 
(CoiUinutd /ruin piKjc 30 
But he gut up submissively and went out. She turned to 
Tomassov and said ' Vou must stay.' 
" This express command made him suiiremely happy, 
tliought as a matter of fact he had had no idea of going. 
" She regarded him with her still kindly glances, which 
made something grow and expand within his chest. It was a 
delicious feeling, even if it did cut one's breath short now 
and then, lilcstaticallv he drank in the sound of her tranquil 
seductive talk full of innocent gaiety and spiritual cpnetude. 
His passion api)eared to him to Hame up and envelop her m 
blue fiery tongues, from head to foot and over her head, 
while her soul reposed in the centre like a big white rose . . . 
" H'm. Good this. He told me many other things 
like that, but this is the one I remember. As to himself he 
remembered e\ervthing because these were his last memories 
of that woiniin. He was seeing her for the last time, though 
he did not know it then. 
'• Mr. de Castcl returned, breaking into that atmosphere 
of sortilege. Tomassov had been drinking in even to 
complete unconsciousness of the external world. Even at 
that j)ainful moment Tomassov could not help being struck 
' by the distinction of his movements, the ease of his manner, 
his superiority to himself. And he suffered from it. It 
occured to him that these brilliant beings were made for 
each other. 
" De Castel sat down by the side of the lady and said 
to her : ' There's not the slightest doubt of it,' and they both 
turned their eves to Tomassov. Roused thoroughly from 
his enchantment he began to wonder ; and a feeling of shyness 
came over him. He sat smiling faintly at them— ^thc very 
picture of attractive innocence. 
" The lady, without taking her eyes off his blushing face, 
said with a gravity quite unusual to her. 
" ■ 1 should like to know that your generosity is perfect- 
without a flaw. Love at its highest should be the cult of 
jKTfection.' .... 
" Tomassov opened his eyes wide with admiration at tins 
as though her lips had been dropping real pearls. The senti- 
ment, however, was not uttered for the primitive Russian 
youtl'i but for the exquisitely superior man of the world, de 
Castel. 
" Tomassov could not see the effect it produced because 
the Frenchman lowered his head and sat there contemplating 
his exquisitely polished boots. The woman suggested in a 
sympathetic tone : 
" ' You have scruples ? ' 
" The Frenchman without looking up murmured : It 
could be turned into a nice point of honour.' 
■' She said vivaciously : ' That's surely artificial. I 
am all for natural feelings. I believe in nothing else. But 
j)erhaps vour conscience . . .' 
" He "interupted her. ' Not at all. My conscience is 
not childish. The fate of these people is of no military im- 
portance to us. What can it matter ? The fortune of 
France is invincible. If I didn't believe I wouldn't care to 
Uve.' 
" ' Well then . . .' she uttered meaningly, and rose 
from her couch. The French officer stood up too. Tomassov 
hastened to follow their example. He suffered from a dis- 
concerting state of mental darkness. While he was raising 
her white hand to his lips he heard the French officer say with 
a strange intonation : 
" ■ If he has the soul of a warrior ' (at that time, you 
know, people reallv talked in that way) ' if he has the soul of 
a warrior he ought' to fall at your feet in gratitude.' 
" Tomassov felt himself plunged into even denser darkness 
than before. He followed the French officer out of the room 
and out of the house. For he imagined that this was expected 
of him. 
" It was getting dusk, the weather was very bad and 
the street quite deserted. The Frenchman lingered in it 
strangely. And Tomassov lingered too, without impatience. 
He was "never in a hurry to get away from the house in which 
she lived. And besides something wonderful had happened 
to him. The hand he had reverently raised by the tips of its 
fingers had been pressed strongly to his lips. He had received 
a secret favour. He was almost frightened. The world had 
reeled. It had hardly steadied itself yet. 
" The lingering Frenchman stopped short at the corner. 
" ' I don't care much to be seen with you in the Ughted 
thoroughfares. Monsieur Tomassov,' he said in an unusual 
grim tone. 
" ■ W'hy ? ' asked the young man too startled to bo offended. 
"'From prudence,' "answered the other curtly. 'So 
we'll have to part here ; but before we jjart 1 'II disclose to 
you something of which you will see at once the importance.' 
" This, please note, was an evening in late March of the 
vear 1812. For a long time already there had been talk of 
growing coolness between Russia and France. The word war 
was being whis()ered in drawing-rooms louder and louder 
and at last was heard in official circles. Thereupon the 
Parisian police disco\ered tiiat our military envoy had corrupt- 
ed some clerks at the Ministry of War and had obtained from 
them some very important confidential documents. The 
wretched men (there were two of them) had confessed their 
crime and were to be shot that night. To-morrow all the 
town would be talking of the affair. But the worst was that 
the Fmperor Napoleon was furiously angry at the discoverv, 
and had made up his mind to have the Russian envoy arrested, 
" Such was this de Castel's disclosure ; and though he 
had spoken in low tones Tomassov remained for a moment 
stunned as by a great crash. 
Arrested ' he murmured dazedly. 
" ' Yes. And kept as a State prisoner— with everybody 
belonging to him . . .' 
" The FYench officer seized Tomassov 's arm above the 
elbow and pressed it with force. 
.And kept ' he repeated into Tomissov's very ear, and 
then letting him go, stepped back a space and remained silent. 
And it's you ! You ! who are telling me this . . .' 
cried Tomassov. His gratitude was inexpressible though hardly 
greater than his admiration for the generosity of his future 
foe. Could a brother have done for him more ? He sought the 
hand of the French officer, but the latter remained wrapped 
up closely in his cloak. Po.ssibly in the dark he had not noticed 
the attempt. He moved back a bit and in his self-possessed 
voice of a man of the world, as though he were speaking across 
a card-table or st)mething of the sort, he called Tomassov's 
attention to the fact that if lie meant to nuke use of the warn- 
ing the" moments were precious. 
They are ' agreed tiie awed Tomassov. ' Good bye, 
then. I have no words of thanks adequate to your generosity ; 
but if ever I have an opportunity, I swear it . . . You 
may command my lijc . . .' 
" But the Frenchman had retreated, had already vanished 
in the dark lonely street. Tomassov was alone. .\nd then 
he didn't waste any of the precious minutes of that night. 
" See how people's idle talk and mere gossii) pass into 
history. In all the memoirs of the time, if you read them, you 
will find it stated that our envoy was warned by some highly- 
])laced woman who was in love with him. Of course it's 
known that he had successes with women, and in the highest 
spheres too. Yet the person who warned him \\'as no other 
but our simple Tomassov — an altogether different sort of 
lover from himself 
" This is then the secret of our Emperor's representative's 
escape from arrest. He and all his official household got 
out of F'rance all right — as history records. 
" And amongst that household there was our Tomassov of 
course. He had, in the words of the French officer, the soul 
of a warrior. And what more desolate prospect to a man with 
such a soul than to be imprisoned on the eve of a war ; to be 
cut off from his country in danger, from his mihtary family, 
from his duty, from honour, and— well — from glory too. 
" Tomassov used to shudder at the mere thought of the 
moral torture he had escaped ; and he nursed in his heart an 
admiring gratitude for the two people who had saved him from 
that cruel ordeal. They were wonderful. For him love and 
friendship were but two aspects of the cult of perfection. 
He had found these fine examples of it and he vowed them 
indeed a sort of cult. It affected his attitude towards 
Frenchmen in general, great patriot as he was. He was indig- 
nant at the invasion of his country, but this indignation had n(j 
j)ersonal animosity in it. His was altogether a fine nature. 
He grieved at the appalling amount of human suffering he 
saw around him. Yes, he was compassionate to all forms 
of suffering in a manly way. 
" Less fine natures than his own did not understand 
this very well. In the regiment they had nicknanud him the 
Humane Tomassox'. 
" He didn't take offence at it. There's nothing incompatible 
between humanity and a warrior's soul. People without 
compassion are the civilians. Government officials and such 
like. As to the ferocious talk one hears from a lot of people 
in war time — well, the tongue is an unruly member at 
best, and when there's some excitement going on there's no 
curbing its furious activity. 
" So I had not been \'ery surprised to see our Tomassov 
sheathe his sword before the end of the charge. As we rode 
away from there he was very silent. He was not talkative 
as a rule, but it was evident that this close view of the Grand 
Army had affected him deeply, like some sight not of this 
earth. You know I had always been a pretty tougli individual 
well even I . . . .'\iul there was that fellow with 
a lot of poetry in his nature ! You may imagine what he 
made of it, to" himself. We rode side by side in silence. I 
was simply beyond words. 
" We established our bi\'ouac along the edge of the wood 
iConlinucd vii po'jc 36.) 
