"But you are soon to know him better. You are soon to discover what
manner of man it is to whom you have given your soul and body, your
allegiance and your worship, all the years of your life. You are soon
to know--and oh, how bitter is the awakening.
"You dash unannounced into his presence. In a wild torrent of words,
you pour forth the awful tale. You laugh, you cry; you implore, you
demand; he only frowns, or smiles derisively. You rave; he calls the
guard. You find that he does know; that others have been there before
you, and that the letter supposed to have been found in the possession
of your sister, has already been read by him. With horror, you realize
that he believes--that there is no hope for the sister you love so
tenderly, who was placed in your arms by your dying mother; whom you
swore to guard, and protect.
"That terrible man, who commits thousands of murders by proxy every
year, frowns upon you, who have been almost like a son to him. He
sneers at your agony. He believes all that has been told to him against
your sister--he is even willing to believe that you are a party to her
supposed misdeeds.
"'Forget your sister. She is dead to you, and to me,' his majesty
commands you, coldly. 'I can forgive you for your present excitement.
Forget her.' "FORGET HER!! God! Forget your sister? Forget the little girl who was
put into your arms when a child? Forget the glowing, gorgeous,
beautiful young woman she has become? Then you loose another torrent of
words. You curse your emperor. You revile the sacred person of the
czar. You go mad; you even try to strike him. Ah! It is awful, your
agony. The guard seizes you. The straps are torn from your shoulders.
The buttons are cut from your coat. The czar himself uses his great
strength to break your sword across his knee, and so far forgets his
dignity that he strikes you in the face with his open hand; and then
you are hustled to the palace gate, and thrust into the street,
disgraced, helpless, insane." Zara paused an instant, then continued,
monotonously: "Then begins months of hopeless waiting. Every day you beg admittance
to the palace. Every day you are refused. You write letters, begging
that you may be told where your sister is detained, that you may go to
her; that you may share her exile. They are unheeded. You know that she
is in Siberia, but Siberia is a vast place--greater than all Europe.
You petition men and officers who used to fawn upon you when you were
in favor, for information concerning her. They will not even speak to
you. They have been ordered not to do so. At last, when nearly five
months have passed in this way, friendless and alone, for your property
has been taken from you, you join the nihilists."