The Created Legend by Fyodor Sologub (ebook reader color screen TXT) 📕

revolt and sacrifice, of wine and blood⁠—what delicious mystery in love thirsting and yielding! And more than one pair of eyes sparkled at the sight of a beloved image, and more than one pair of lips whispered:

“And he’s here!”

“And she’s here!”

In the shade, under the trees, where indiscreet glances could not penetrate, impatient lips met in a quick, timid kiss. And the first words were:

“I’m not late, comrade?”

“No, comrade Natalya, you are in time.”

“Let us go over there, comrade Valentine.”

The names were pronounced tenderly. A man in a cap, black shirt,18 and high boots, walked up to Elisaveta. He had a small black beard and moustache, and his face, which was both familiar and unfamiliar, had something in it that stirred her. He exclaimed:

“Elisaveta, you don’t recognize me?”

She recognized him at once by his voice. A warmth suffused her. She laughed and said joyously:

“I knew you by your voice alone. Your beard and moustache make you wholly unrecognizable.”

“They are glued on,” explained Trirodov.

They conversed. He heard someone whisper behind his back:

“That is comrade Elisaveta. She’s considered the first beauty in our town.”

Trirodov was for some reason overjoyed at these words, partly because Elisaveta heard them and blushed so furiously that even the dim moonlight could not hide her blushes.

A few detectives had also managed to find their way here, and there was even one provocateur. These chattels alone knew that the police had information about the meeting and that the wood would shortly be encircled by the Cossacks.

Conversations were kept up among small groups for some time before the meeting opened. The agitators discussed matters with labouring men who were not in the party. The more interesting people were introduced to the invited speaker.

Stchemilov’s loud voice rang out:

“Comrades, attention. I propose comrade Abram as chairman.”

“Agreed, agreed,” came suppressed voices from every side.

Comrade Abram took his place on a high stump of a hewn-down tree. The speeches began. Elisaveta was nervous until it came her turn to speak. She was troubled with pain and fear because she knew that Trirodov would hear her.

Proud, brave watchwords and bold instructions were heard. The provocateur also made a speech. He urged them to an immediate armed revolt. Someone’s voice called out:

“Comrades⁠—this man’s a provocateur!”

There was a commotion. The provocateur shouted something in his defence. He was promptly jostled out.

Then Stchemilov spoke; he was followed by the invited orator. Elisaveta’s agitation grew.

But when the chairman said, “Comrade Elisaveta, the word belongs to you,” she suddenly became calm and, having ascended the high stump that served as the platform, began to speak. Her deep, measured voice carried far. Someone seemed to echo it in the wood⁠—it was like a fantastic, restless din. A being beloved by her and near to her sat there and listened; her beloved, near comrades also listened. Hundreds of attentive eyes followed her, and the dear friendly looks, converging like lances under a shield, held her very high in the pure atmosphere of happiness.

The sweet moments of joy passed by like a short dream. She ended her speech and came down among the audience, where she was received with flattering comments and strong pressures of the hand⁠—sometimes, it must be confessed, a little over-strong.

“I say, comrade, you’ll break my hand. How strong you are!”

And his face would also break into a joyous smile.

The speeches ended. The songs began. The wood reechoed with proud, brave words, with a song of freedom and revolt. Suddenly the song stopped short, a confused murmur ran through the crowd. Someone shouted:

“The Cossacks!”

Someone shouted:

“Run, comrades!”

Someone ran. Someone shouted:

“Be calm, comrades!”

The Cossacks had hid themselves in the wood a couple of versts from the meeting. Many of them had managed to take several drinks. As they sat around their bonfires they began to sing a gay, noisy, indecent song, but their officers enjoined silence.

A spy came running; he whispered something to the colonel. Soon a command was given. The Cossacks jumped quickly on their horses and rode away, leaving the half-consumed bonfire behind them. The dry faggots and the grass smouldered a long time. The forest caught fire.19

“What’s the matter?” asked Elisaveta.

Someone whispered quickly:

“Do you hear, it’s the Cossacks! I wonder which side they are coming from. It’s hard to tell which way to run.”

“They are coming from town,” said someone. “The only thing to do is to go towards Opalikha.”

The leaders began to give orders:

“Comrades, be calm. Scatter as quickly as possible. Don’t jostle. The road to Dubky is clear.”

A number of horses’ heads suddenly appeared from among the trees quiet close to Elisaveta, and their dumb but good eyes looked on incomprehensibly. The crowd of young people began to run, and carried Elisaveta along with them. She was seized by a feeling of stupor. She thought:

“What’s the use of running? They’ll overtake us and drive us wherever they will.”

But she had not enough strength to pause. They were all running, and she with them. Another detachment of Cossacks appeared in front of them. Cries and wails went up from the crowd, which began to scatter in all directions. The Cossacks came on, as it were, in a broad chain.

Many managed to break through, some with bloodstained faces and torn clothes. The others were driven forward from the rear and the sides and gradually became a compact mass. It was evident that the Cossacks were trying to get the crowd into the middle of the glade. Those who had broken through the ring at the very beginning had some hope of escape. There were about a hundred people in the ring. They were driven towards the town, and those who tried to escape were lashed with the nagaika.

A few shots resounded in the distance. The provocateur fired the first shot⁠—into the air. This aroused the anger of the Cossacks, who began to shoot at those who ran.

Elisaveta and Alkina managed to escape the first ring together. But they could hear all around them the cries of the Cossacks. They paused