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Next instant he was locked in a deadly struggle with the captain of the Nevski, a brave man, who, it seems, had refused to surrender, and had cut his way through all Sievers's men in the desperate resolve to retrieve the consequences of his own carelessness. Maclean, however, was a practised wrestler, and although lean almost as a lath, the muscles he possessed were as strong as steel bands.
There are seasons, I suppose, when these shops are crowded, but I have never happened to be in Portsmouth at the time. I seldom pass through the narrow cobble-paved street without wondering where the customers are that must keep all these flourishing little establishments going. Congress Street a more elegant thoroughfare than Market is the Nevski Prospekt of Portsmouth.
"Nothing will change you?" "Nothing." "Then it is a battle between us?" "If you like." "So be it." I helped him on with his Shuba. He said, in an ordinary conversational tone, "There may be trouble to-morrow. There's been shooting by the Nicholas Station this afternoon, I hear. I should avoid the Nevski to-morrow." I laughed. "I'm not afraid of that kind of death, Alexei Petrovitch," I said.
A similar struggle between the "Economists" and the "Politicals" was going on in the other industrial suburbs, notably in the Nevski quarter, where 45,000 operatives had struck work, and the Social Democrats were particularly active.
"What do you want?" he said. "Several things." Mr. Heatherbloom's own eyes were keen as darts. "First, you will give orders that the Nevski is to change her course to head for the nearest American port." "Impossible!" the prince exclaimed violently. "On the contrary, it is quite possible. We have the fuel, as I can testify."
There was, of course, scarcely any one there. The Michailovsky is not a large theatre, but the stalls looked extraordinarily desolate, every seat watching one with a kind of insolent wink as though, like the Nevski ten minutes before it said, "Well, now you humans are getting frightened, you're all stopping away. We're coming back to our own!"
"Perhaps because I am an artist, and it seemed inartistic to intervene to interrupt the action at an inopportune moment to stultify what promised to be an unusually involved complication. When first I saw and recognized you on the Nevski, it was like one of those divine surprises of the master dramatist, M. Sardou. Really, I was indebted for the thrill of it.
Drive quickly, and I'll pay double fare." He whipped his horses, and we turned into that maze of dark, ill-lit, narrow streets that lies between the Vosnesenski and the Nevski, turning and winding until we emerged at last into the main thoroughfare again, and then at last we turned into the street I had indicated a wide road of handsome buildings where I knew I was certain to be able to instantly get another drosky.
The stout woman repeated in a trembling, agitated voice, "You aren't allowed to cross the Nevski. The Cossacks are stopping everybody." The prostitute shook her head in her alarm, and little flakes of powder detached themselves from her nose. "Bozhe moi bozhe moi!" she said, "and I promised not to be late." Vera then, very calmly and quietly, took command of the situation.
Near the Nevski is a fine shop of pictures with snow scenes and blue rivers and Italian landscapes, and copies of Repin and Verestchagin, and portraits of the Czar. I searched here, but all were too sophisticated in their bright brown frames, and their air of being the latest thing from Paris and London.
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