第 三十一 章 · THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER

. THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER

IVAN OGAREFF’S plan had been contrived with the greatest care, and

except for some unforeseen accident he believed that it must succeed.

It was of importance that the Bolchaia Gate should be unguarded or

only feebly held when he gave it up. The attention of the besieged

was therefore to be drawn to another part of the town. A diversion was

agreed upon with the Emir.

This diversion was to be effected both up and down the river, on the

Irkutsk bank. The attack on these two points was to be conducted in

earnest, and at the same time a feigned attempt at crossing the Angara

from the left bank was to be made. The Bolchaia Gate, would be probably

deserted, so much the more because on this side the Tartar outposts

having drawn back, would appear to have broken up.

It was the 5th of October. In four and twenty hours, the capital of

Eastern Siberia would be in the hands of the Emir, and the Grand Duke in

the power of Ivan Ogareff.

During the day, an unusual stir was going on in the Angara camp. From

the windows of the palace important preparations on the opposite shore

could be distinctly seen. Numerous Tartar detachments were converging

towards the camp, and from hour to hour reinforced the Emir’s troops.

These movements, intended to deceive the besieged, were conducted in the

most open manner possible before their eyes.

Ogareff had warned the Grand Duke that an attack was to be feared. He

knew, he said, that an assault was to be made, both above and below

the town, and he counselled the Duke to reinforce the two directly

threatened points. Accordingly, after a council of war had been held in

the palace, orders were issued to concentrate the defense on the bank

of the Angara and at the two ends of the town, where the earthworks

protected the river.

This was exactly what Ogareff wished. He did not expect that the

Bolchaia Gate would be left entirely without defenders, but that there

would only be a small number. Besides, Ogareff meant to give such

importance to the diversion, that the Grand Duke would be obliged to

oppose it with all his available forces. The traitor planned also to

produce so frightful a catastrophe that terror must inevitably overwhelm

the hearts of the besieged.

All day the garrison and population of Irkutsk were on the alert. The

measures to repel an attack on the points hitherto unassailed had

been taken. The Grand Duke and General Voranzoff visited the posts,

strengthened by their orders. Wassili Fedor’s corps occupied the North

of the town, but with orders to throw themselves where the danger was

greatest. The right bank of the Angara had been protected with the few

guns possessed by the defenders. With these measures, taken in time,

thanks to the advice so opportunely given by Ivan Ogareff, there was

good reason to hope that the expected attack would be repulsed. In

that case the Tartars, momentarily discouraged, would no doubt not

make another attempt against the town for several days. Now the troops

expected by the Grand Duke might arrive at any hour. The safety or the

loss of Irkutsk hung only by a thread.

On this day, the sun which had risen at twenty minutes to six, set at

forty minutes past five, having traced its diurnal arc for eleven

hours above the horizon. The twilight would struggle with the night

for another two hours. Then it would be intensely dark, for the sky was

cloudy, and there would be no moon. This gloom would favor the plans of

Ivan Ogareff.

For a few days already a sharp frost had given warning of the

approaching rigor of the Siberian winter, and this evening it was

especially severe. The Russians posted by the bank of the Angara,

obliged to conceal their position, lighted no fires. They suffered

cruelly from the low temperature. A few feet below them, the ice in

large masses drifted down the current. All day these masses had been

seen passing rapidly between the two banks.

This had been considered by the Grand Duke and his officers as

fortunate. Should the channel of the Angara continue to be thus

obstructed, the passage must be impracticable. The Tartars could use

neither rafts nor boats. As to their crossing the river on the ice, that

was not possible. The newly-frozen plain could not bear the weight of an

assaulting column.

This circumstance, as it appeared favorable to the defenders of Irkutsk,

Ogareff might have regretted. He did not do so, however. The traitor

knew well that the Tartars would not try to pass the Angara, and that,

on its side at least, their attempt was only a feint.

About ten in the evening, the state of the river sensibly improved, to

the great surprise of the besieged and still more to their disadvantage.

The passage till then impracticable, became all at once possible. The

bed of the Angara was clear. The blocks of ice, which had for some days

drifted past in large numbers, disappeared down the current, and five or

six only now occupied the space between the banks. The Russian officers

reported this change in the river to the Grand Duke. They suggested that

it was probably caused by the circumstance that in some narrower part of

the Angara, the blocks had accumulated so as to form a barrier.

We know this was the case. The passage of the Angara was thus open to

the besiegers. There was great reason for the Russians to be on their

guard.

Up to midnight nothing had occurred. On the Eastern side, beyond the

Bolchaia Gate, all was quiet. Not a glimmer was seen in the dense

forest, which appeared confounded on the horizon with the masses of

clouds hanging low down in the sky. Lights flitting to and fro in the

Angara camp, showed that a considerable movement was taking place. From

a verst above and below the point where the scarp met the river’s bank,

came a dull murmur, proving that the Tartars were on foot, expecting

some signal. An hour passed. Nothing new.

The bell of the Irkutsk cathedral was about to strike two o’clock in

the morning, and not a movement amongst the besiegers had yet shown that

they were about to commence the assault. The Grand Duke and his officers

began to suspect that they had been mistaken. Had it really been the

Tartars’ plan to surprise the town? The preceding nights had not been

nearly so quiet--musketry rattling from the outposts, shells whistling

through the air; and this time, nothing. The officers waited, ready to

give their orders, according to circumstances.

We have said that Ogareff occupied a room in the palace. It was a large

chamber on the ground floor, its windows opening on a side terrace.

By taking a few steps along this terrace, a view of the river could be

obtained.

Profound darkness reigned in the room. Ogareff stood by a window,

awaiting the hour to act. The signal, of course, could come from him,

alone. This signal once given, when the greater part of the defenders of

Irkutsk would be summoned to the points openly attacked, his plan was to

leave the palace and hurry to the Bolchaia Gate. If it was unguarded, he

would open it; or at least he would direct the overwhelming mass of its

assailants against the few defenders.

He now crouched in the shadow, like a wild beast ready to spring on

its prey. A few minutes before two o’clock, the Grand Duke desired

that Michael Strogoff--which was the only name they could give to Ivan

Ogareff--should be brought to him. An aide-de-camp came to the room, the

door of which was closed. He called.

Ogareff, motionless near the window, and invisible in the shade did not

answer. The Grand Duke was therefore informed that the Czar’s courier

was not at that moment in the palace.

Two o’clock struck. Now was the time to cause the diversion agreed

upon with the Tartars, waiting for the assault. Ivan Ogareff opened the

window and stationed himself at the North angle of the side terrace.

Below him flowed the roaring waters of the Angara. Ogareff took a match

from his pocket, struck it and lighted a small bunch of tow, impregnated

with priming powder, which he threw into the river.

It was by the orders of Ivan Ogareff that the torrents of mineral oil

had been thrown on the surface of the Angara! There are numerous

naphtha springs above Irkutsk, on the right bank, between the suburb

of Poshkavsk and the town. Ogareff had resolved to employ this terrible

means to carry fire into Irkutsk. He therefore took possession of the

immense reservoirs which contained the combustible liquid. It was only

necessary to demolish a piece of wall in order to allow it to flow out

in a vast stream.

This had been done that night, a few hours previously, and this was the

reason that the raft which carried the true Courier of the Czar, Nadia,

and the fugitives, floated on a current of mineral oil. Through the

breaches in these reservoirs of enormous dimensions rushed the naphtha

in torrents, and, following the inclination of the ground, it spread

over the surface of the river, where its density allowed it to float.

This was the way Ivan Ogareff carried on warfare! Allied with Tartars,

he acted like a Tartar, and against his own countrymen!

The tow had been thrown on the waters of the Angara. In an instant, with

electrical rapidity, as if the current had been of alcohol, the whole

river was in a blaze above and below the town. Columns of blue flames

ran between the two banks. Volumes of vapor curled up above. The few

pieces of ice which still drifted were seized by the burning liquid, and

melted like wax on the top of a furnace, the evaporated water escaping

in shrill hisses.

At the same moment, firing broke out on the North and South of the town.

The enemy’s batteries discharged their guns at random. Several thousand

Tartars rushed to the assault of the earth-works. The houses on the

bank, built of wood, took fire in every direction. A bright light

dissipated the darkness of the night.

“At last!” said Ivan Ogareff.

He had good reason for congratulating himself. The diversion which he

had planned was terrible. The defenders of Irkutsk found themselves

between the attack of the Tartars and the fearful effects of fire. The

bells rang, and all the able-bodied of the population ran, some towards

the points attacked, and others towards the houses in the grasp of the

flames, which it seemed too probable would ere long envelop the whole

town.

The Gate of Bolchaia was nearly free. Only a very small guard had been

left there. And by the traitor’s suggestion, and in order that the event

might be explained apart from him, as if by political hate, this small

guard had been chosen from the little band of exiles.

Ogareff re-entered his room, now brilliantly lighted by the flames from

the Angara; then he made ready to go out. But scarcely had he opened the

door, when a woman rushed into the room, her clothes drenched, her hair

in disorder.

“Sangarre!” exclaimed Ogareff, in the first moment of surprise, and not

supposing that it could be any other woman than the gypsy.

It was not Sangarre; it was Nadia!

At the moment when, floating on the ice, the girl had uttered a cry on

seeing the fire spreading along the current, Michael had seized her in

his arms, and plunged with her into the river itself to seek a refuge

in its depths from the flames. The block which bore them was not thirty

fathoms from the first quay of Irkutsk.

Swimming beneath the water, Michael managed to get a footing with Nadia

on the quay. Michael Strogoff had reached his journey’s end! He was in

Irkutsk!

“To the governor’s palace!” said he to Nadia.

In less than ten minutes, they arrived at the entrance to the palace.

Long tongues of flame from the Angara licked its walls, but were

powerless to set it on fire. Beyond the houses on the bank were in a

blaze.

The palace being open to all, Michael and Nadia entered without

difficulty. In the confusion, no one remarked them, although their

garments were dripping. A crowd of officers coming for orders, and of

soldiers running to execute them, filled the great hall on the ground

floor. There, in a sudden eddy of the confused multitude, Michael and

the young girl were separated from each other.

Nadia ran distracted through the passages, calling her companion, and

asking to be taken to the Grand Duke. A door into a room flooded with

light opened before her. She entered, and found herself suddenly face to

face with the man whom she had met at Ichim, whom she had seen at Tomsk;

face to face with the one whose villainous hand would an instant later

betray the town!

“Ivan Ogareff!” she cried.

On hearing his name pronounced, the wretch started. His real name known,

all his plans would be balked. There was but one thing to be done: to

kill the person who had just uttered it. Ogareff darted at Nadia; but

the girl, a knife in her hand, retreated against the wall, determined to

defend herself.

“Ivan Ogareff!” again cried Nadia, knowing well that so detested a name

would soon bring her help.

“Ah! Be silent!” hissed out the traitor between his clenched teeth.

“Ivan Ogareff!” exclaimed a third time the brave young girl, in a voice

to which hate had added ten-fold strength.

Mad with fury, Ogareff, drawing a dagger from his belt, again rushed at

Nadia and compelled her to retreat into a corner of the room. Her last

hope appeared gone, when the villain, suddenly lifted by an irresistible

force, was dashed to the ground.

“Michael!” cried Nadia.

It was Michael Strogoff. Michael had heard Nadia’s call. Guided by her

voice, he had just in time reached Ivan Ogareff’s room, and entered by

the open door.

“Fear nothing, Nadia,” said he, placing himself between her and Ogareff.

“Ah!” cried the girl, “take care, brother! The traitor is armed! He can

see!”

Ogareff rose, and, thinking he had an immeasurable advantage over the

blind man leaped upon him. But with one hand, the blind man grasped the

arm of his enemy, seized his weapon, and hurled him again to the ground.

Pale with rage and shame, Ogareff remembered that he wore a sword. He

drew it and returned a second time to the charge. A blind man! Ogareff

had only to deal with a blind man! He was more than a match for him!

Nadia, terrified at the danger which threatened her companion ran to the

door calling for help!

“Close the door, Nadia!” said Michael. “Call no one, and leave me alone!

The Czar’s courier has nothing to fear to-day from this villain! Let him

come on, if he dares! I am ready for him.”

In the mean time, Ogareff, gathering himself together like a tiger about

to spring, uttered not a word. The noise of his footsteps, his very

breathing, he endeavored to conceal from the ear of the blind man. His

object was to strike before his opponent was aware of his approach, to

strike him with a deadly blow.

Nadia, terrified and at the same time confident, watched this terrible

scene with involuntary admiration. Michael’s calm bearing seemed to have

inspired her. Michael’s sole weapon was his Siberian knife. He did not

see his adversary armed with a sword, it is true; but Heaven’s support

seemed to be afforded him. How, almost without stirring, did he always

face the point of the sword?

Ivan Ogareff watched his strange adversary with visible anxiety. His

superhuman calm had an effect upon him. In vain, appealing to his

reason, did he tell himself that in so unequal a combat all the

advantages were on his side. The immobility of the blind man froze him.

He had settled on the place where he would strike his victim. He had

fixed upon it! What, then, hindered him from putting an end to his blind

antagonist?

At last, with a spring he drove his sword full at Michael’s breast. An

imperceptible movement of the blind man’s knife turned aside the blow.

Michael had not been touched, and coolly he awaited a second attack.

Cold drops stood on Ogareff’s brow. He drew back a step, then again

leaped forward. But as had the first, this second attempt failed. The

knife had simply parried the blow from the traitor’s useless sword.

Mad with rage and terror before this living statue, he gazed into the

wide-open eyes of the blind man. Those eyes which seemed to pierce to

the bottom of his soul, and yet which did not, could not, see--exercised

a sort of dreadful fascination over him.

All at once, Ogareff uttered a cry. A sudden light flashed across his

brain. “He sees!” he exclaimed, “he sees!” And like a wild beast trying

to retreat into its den, step by step, terrified, he drew back to the

end of the room.

Then the statue became animated, the blind man walked straight up to

Ivan Ogareff, and placing himself right before him, “Yes, I see!” said

he. “I see the mark of the knout which I gave you, traitor and coward! I

see the place where I am about to strike you! Defend your life! It is a

duel I deign to offer you! My knife against your sword!”

“He sees!” said Nadia. “Gracious Heaven, is it possible!”

Ogareff felt that he was lost. But mustering all his courage, he sprang

forward on his impassible adversary. The two blades crossed, but at a

touch from Michael’s knife, wielded in the hand of the Siberian hunter,

the sword flew in splinters, and the wretch, stabbed to the heart, fell

lifeless on the ground.

At the same moment, the door was thrown open. The Grand Duke,

accompanied by some of his officers, appeared on the threshold. The

Grand Duke advanced. In the body lying on the ground, he recognized the

man whom he believed to be the Czar’s courier.

Then, in a threatening voice, “Who killed that man?” he asked.

“I,” replied Michael.

One of the officers put a pistol to his temple, ready to fire.

“Your name?” asked the Grand Duke, before giving the order for his

brains to be blown out.

“Your Highness,” answered Michael, “ask me rather the name of the man

who lies at your feet!”

“That man, I know him! He is a servant of my brother! He is the Czar’s

courier!”

“That man, your Highness, is not a courier of the Czar! He is Ivan

Ogareff!”

“Ivan Ogareff!” exclaimed the Grand Duke.

“Yes, Ivan the Traitor!”

“But who are you, then?”

“Michael Strogoff!”