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Authors: Boris Akunin
Tags: Historical Novel
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dryly: 'Your terms are accepted. You can have your freedom of action. That was actually what I had in mind. Just keep your eyes and your ears open and if you notice anything unusual . . . Well, you don't need me to tell you what to do.'
'Aa-choo!' Varya sneezed and then shrank back down into her chair again in fright.
The general was even more frightened than she was. He started, swung round and stared dumbfounded at the involuntary witness of his confidential conversation.
'Madam, what are you doing here? Why did you not leave the room with the lieutenant-colonel? How dare you?'
'You ought to have looked,' Varya replied with dignity. 'I'm not some mosquito or fly that you can just choose to ignore. I happen to be under arrest, and no one has given me leave to go yet.'
She thought she saw Fandorin's lips twitch ever so slightly. But no, she had imagined it - this specimen did not even know how to smile.
'Very well then, all right.' Mizinov's tone of voice held a quiet threat. 'You, my dear non-relative, have learned things which you absolutely ought not to know. In the interests of state security I am placing you under temporary administrative arrest. You will be taken under escort to the Kishinev garrison quarantine station and detained there under guard until the end of the campaign. And you have only yourself to blame.'
Varya turned pale. 'But I haven't even seen my fiance . . .'
'You'll see each other after the war,' snapped Lavrenty Mizinov, turning towards the door to summon his ophchniks; but then Erast Fandorin intervened.
'Lavrenty Arkadievich, I think it would be quite sufficient to ask Miss Suvorova to give her word of honour.'
‘I give my word of honour!' Varya cried, encouraged by this unexpected intercession on her behalf.
'I'm sorry, dear chap, we can't take the risk,' the general snapped without even looking at her. Then there's this fiance of hers. And how can we trust a girl? You know what they say: "The longer the braid, the dafter the maid."'
‘I don't have any braid! And that is a base insult to my intelligence!' Varya's voice trembled, threatening to break. 'What do I want with all your Anwars and Midhats anyway?'
'On my responsibility, Your Excellency. I vouch for Varvara Andreevna.'
Mizinov said nothing, frowning in annoyance, and Varya realised that even among secret police agents there were clearly some people who were not entirely beyond salvation. After all, he was a Serbian volunteer.
'It's stupid,' growled the general. He turned towards
Varya and asked gruffly: 'Do you know how to do anything? Is your handwriting good?'
'I qualified as a stenographer! I worked as a telegrapher! And a midwife!' said Varya, stretching the truth just a little.
'A stenographer and a telegrapher?' said Mizinov, surprised. 'All the better, then. Erast Petrovich, I will allow this woman to remain here on one single condition: she will fulfil the duties of your secretary. You will in any case require some kind of courier or messenger who will not arouse unnecessary suspicion. Only bear in mind that you have vouched for her.'
'Oh no!' Varya and Fandorin exclaimed in a single voice. Then they continued speaking together, but in different words.
Erast Petrovich said: 'I have no need of a secretary.'
Varya said: 'I will not serve in the Okhranka.'
'As you wish,' said the general, rising to his feet with a shrug. 'Novgorodtsev, the escort!'
'I agree!' shouted Varya.
Fandorin said nothing.
Chapter Four
IN WHICH THE ENEMY STRIKES THE FIRST BLOW
The Daily Post (London) 15 (3) July 1877
... an advance detachment of the dashing General Gurko's forces has captured Trnovo, the ancient capital of the Kingdom of Bulgaria, and is pressing on apace towards the Shipka Pass, the gateway to the defenceless plains that extend to the walls of Constantinople itself. The military vizier Abdul Kerim-pasha has been removed from all his posts and committed for trial. Only a miracle can save Turkey now.
They halted by
'Aa-choo!' Varya sneezed and then shrank back down into her chair again in fright.
The general was even more frightened than she was. He started, swung round and stared dumbfounded at the involuntary witness of his confidential conversation.
'Madam, what are you doing here? Why did you not leave the room with the lieutenant-colonel? How dare you?'
'You ought to have looked,' Varya replied with dignity. 'I'm not some mosquito or fly that you can just choose to ignore. I happen to be under arrest, and no one has given me leave to go yet.'
She thought she saw Fandorin's lips twitch ever so slightly. But no, she had imagined it - this specimen did not even know how to smile.
'Very well then, all right.' Mizinov's tone of voice held a quiet threat. 'You, my dear non-relative, have learned things which you absolutely ought not to know. In the interests of state security I am placing you under temporary administrative arrest. You will be taken under escort to the Kishinev garrison quarantine station and detained there under guard until the end of the campaign. And you have only yourself to blame.'
Varya turned pale. 'But I haven't even seen my fiance . . .'
'You'll see each other after the war,' snapped Lavrenty Mizinov, turning towards the door to summon his ophchniks; but then Erast Fandorin intervened.
'Lavrenty Arkadievich, I think it would be quite sufficient to ask Miss Suvorova to give her word of honour.'
‘I give my word of honour!' Varya cried, encouraged by this unexpected intercession on her behalf.
'I'm sorry, dear chap, we can't take the risk,' the general snapped without even looking at her. Then there's this fiance of hers. And how can we trust a girl? You know what they say: "The longer the braid, the dafter the maid."'
‘I don't have any braid! And that is a base insult to my intelligence!' Varya's voice trembled, threatening to break. 'What do I want with all your Anwars and Midhats anyway?'
'On my responsibility, Your Excellency. I vouch for Varvara Andreevna.'
Mizinov said nothing, frowning in annoyance, and Varya realised that even among secret police agents there were clearly some people who were not entirely beyond salvation. After all, he was a Serbian volunteer.
'It's stupid,' growled the general. He turned towards
Varya and asked gruffly: 'Do you know how to do anything? Is your handwriting good?'
'I qualified as a stenographer! I worked as a telegrapher! And a midwife!' said Varya, stretching the truth just a little.
'A stenographer and a telegrapher?' said Mizinov, surprised. 'All the better, then. Erast Petrovich, I will allow this woman to remain here on one single condition: she will fulfil the duties of your secretary. You will in any case require some kind of courier or messenger who will not arouse unnecessary suspicion. Only bear in mind that you have vouched for her.'
'Oh no!' Varya and Fandorin exclaimed in a single voice. Then they continued speaking together, but in different words.
Erast Petrovich said: 'I have no need of a secretary.'
Varya said: 'I will not serve in the Okhranka.'
'As you wish,' said the general, rising to his feet with a shrug. 'Novgorodtsev, the escort!'
'I agree!' shouted Varya.
Fandorin said nothing.
Chapter Four
IN WHICH THE ENEMY STRIKES THE FIRST BLOW
The Daily Post (London) 15 (3) July 1877
... an advance detachment of the dashing General Gurko's forces has captured Trnovo, the ancient capital of the Kingdom of Bulgaria, and is pressing on apace towards the Shipka Pass, the gateway to the defenceless plains that extend to the walls of Constantinople itself. The military vizier Abdul Kerim-pasha has been removed from all his posts and committed for trial. Only a miracle can save Turkey now.
They halted by
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