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Updated: June 16, 2025
Ermolai informed him that Madame Matrena was engaged in helping her husband retire, and the marshal remained at the end of the garden where he had found Michael and Boris talking in the kiosque. All three remained there for some time in conversation, standing by a table where General and Madame Trebassof sometimes dined when they had no guests.
That is simple enough. Why didn't we think of it sooner? Because everybody lost his head except the dear little domovoi-doukh!" But here something happened Rouletabille had not counted on. The general rose and said, "You have forgotten one thing, my young friend; that is that General Trebassof will not descend by the servants' stairway."
"You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his enemies but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane. Understand me thoroughly: Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly. He is good, brave as a warrior, but I wouldn't give a kopeck for his police.
Can't you see that Natacha's presence in the datcha had become quite too dangerous for that charming young girl after the poisoning of her father and step-mother failed and at the moment when her comrades were preparing to send General Trebassof a pleasant little gift of dynamite? She arranged to get away and yet to appear kidnapped. It is too simple." Rouletabille raised his head.
Michael and Natacha, in a corner, were deep in conversation, and Boris watched them with obvious impatience, still strumming the guzla. But the thing that struck Rouletabille's youthful imagination beyond all else was the mild face of the general. He had not imagined the terrible Trebassof with so paternal and sympathetic an expression.
"War is war," had been his answer, with irrefutable logic. "How can you ask mercy for these men who never give it?" Be it said for the young men of the barricades that they never surrendered, and equally be it said for Trebassof that he necessarily shot them.
Just as he rose, a messenger arrived. There was still another letter for Joseph Rouletabille. This time it was from Natacha, who wrote him: "General Trebassof and my step-mother will be very happy to have you come to dinner to-day.
"Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa," commenced the falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the young man and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch, who was already busy with the hors-d'oeuvres. "How do you do, monsieur?" said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka. Rouletabille saluted.
Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of letters between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary Committee, and that these letters show the daughter of General Trebassof to be in perfect accord with the assassins of her father for the execution of their abominable project." "The death of the general?" "I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible." "Obstinate man!
"And why not?" demanded the Chief of rolice, while, upon a sign from him, they took away the false Touman. "Because it is I who denounced him." "What a reason! And what would you like me to do?" "Guard him for me; for me alone, do you understand?" "In exchange for what?" "In exchange for the life of General Trebassof, if I must put it that way." "Eh? The life of General Trebassof!
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