“Yasha,” I implied, “how can you say such things of me? You know how I love you, and if you go to Kolymsk I shall go with you. I have been to the Governor, and entreated him.”
“Then go again. Fall on your knees before him, and beg harder. He is said to be such a kind man that he will surely have mercy. Otherwise, we are lost. Think of our destination, a land without sun, a colony of three or four huts, spread over a space of about ten miles, that is Kolymsk. No horses, no business, no trades! It is not a land for the living. Go and implore the Governor, and he may take pity.”
I looked at Yasha, and my heart was filled with anguish. He was only twenty-seven, but his hair was already turning grey. He looked pale and exhausted. I could not keep myself from breaking into sobs. Yasha was touched, and, placing his arm around me, apologized for his insinuation, assuring me of his devotion and appreciation of my endeavours to sustain him in his trials. I left him, with the understanding that I would call on the Governor again.
“To go or not to go,” was the thought that tormented me on the way from Yasha. I learned that the Governor was notorious as a libertine. He had married into the family of a high-placed bureaucrat for the sake of a career, and his wife was a hunchback, spending most of her time abroad. Plucking up courage, I went to the Governor again, hoping to win his favour by a passionate plea for Yasha. As I entered the office I saw the clerks wink to one another significantly. I could scarcely keep my self-control, trembling in anticipation of another meeting with the Governor. As I was admitted into his study he stood up and smiled benevolently, saying:
“Ah, so finally you have come, my dear. Now, don’t be afraid; I won’t harm you. Calm yourself, and be seated,” and he helped me to a chair.
“Have pity on us, sir. Permit Yasha to remain here,” I sobbed.
“Now, now, don’t cry,” he interrupted me. “I will. He shall stay.”
My heart was full of gratitude, and I threw myself on the floor at his feet, thanking and blessing him for his kindness. Then it occurred to me that Yasha would be overjoyed to hear the news, and I rose to go, telling the Governor of my purpose.
“You need not tire yourself by rushing to the prison. I will have the message telephoned to the warden, with instructions to inform your husband immediately,” the Governor said, “and you may rest here a little while.”
I was overflowing with thankfulness. He poured some wine into a glass and insisted that I should drink it to refresh myself. I had never tasted wine before, and this particular wine was of a very strong quality. I felt a wave of warmth creep over me. It was so sweet and languorous. The Governor then filled my glass again and, also one for himself, invited me to drink with him. I made an effort to resist, but was too weak to withstand his persuasion. After the second glass it was much easier for the Governor to make me empty the third. I became drowsy and dull, unable to move. I had a sense of the Governor removing my clothes, but was too helpless to protest, let alone to offer physical resistance. He embraced me, kissed me, but I remained inert. I then had a sensation of being picked up by him and carried to a couch. Very dimly I seemed to realize it all, and, collecting my last strength, I attempted to struggle, but felt as if I had been drugged. …
I awoke about four in the morning and found myself in unfamiliar, luxurious surroundings. For a few moments I could not understand where I was, and thought that I was dreaming. There was a strange man near me. He turned his face, and I recognized him as the Governor. I suddenly remembered everything. He made a motion to embrace me, but I cried out, jumped up, dressed myself hastily and ran from the house as if pursued.
Day was just breaking. The town was still wrapped in sleep, and a low mist merged the city with the river. It was early autumn. There was peace everywhere but in my heart; there, the elements were raging, and life grappled with death for supremacy. “What shall I say to Yasha? What will our friends think of me? A prostitute!” pierced my mind poignantly. “No, that must never happen. Death is my only escape.”
I wandered about the streets for a while, until I found a grocer’s shop open, and I purchased there thirty kopek’s worth of essence of vinegar. Entering my lodging, I was met by the question:
“Where have you been? Maria Leontievna, where did you sleep last night?” My appearance in itself was enough to arouse suspicion. Without answering, I rushed into my room and locked the door. After offering my last prayers, I resolutely drank up all the poison, and was soon writhing in agony.
At the same time, about ten in the morning, Yasha was released from prison and given five hundred roubles for the establishment of a butcher’s shop. In high spirits, he made his way to my lodging, completely unaware of what had befallen me. It was only when he arrived at the house that he observed an unusual commotion. The door of my room had been broken in when my moans were heard. The poison had scorched my mouth and throat as if with a flame, and I was found unconscious on the floor, and only recovering my senses after I had been removed to the hospital. Around me stood Yasha, some nurses, and a physician who was pouring something down my throat. I could not speak, although I
