Rachmanof glared at me for a moment.

‘So!’ he said. ‘You again! Well, it is bad luck for you, my friend, that I have caught you, for this time you shall not escape me: you have a reckoning unpaid!’

‘Oh, I will pay it twice over, friend!’ I said. ‘Here is my money-bag!’ I tapped my sword and laughed.

‘Let the old scarecrow run,’ said Rachmanof, half turning his head towards his companions; ‘let her pass, Cossack, she will be in our way. Disappear you also, shameless old hag,’ he continued, wagging his finger at the Superior. ‘A fine mother of innocent maidens, you! Fie! A man in the house, and of all men a filthy Cossack! Fie, I say!’

‘Rachmanof,’ I muttered, ‘for that speech you shall die if I can kill you. Go, mother, go into the ante-room, and pray your hardest that I may kill this beast.’

‘Yes, pray your hardest,’ laughed Rachmanof; ‘he will need it!’

‘Fight in God’s name,’ said the good old woman, disappearing into the ante-room. ‘I will pray for God’s curse upon those who invade this holy house.’

The old doorkeeper pushed past Rachmanof and disappeared also, crying and muttering prayers or curses, or I know not what. The two Streltsi fellows came several steps higher towards Rachmanof.

Then the fight began without further delay.

Rachmanof made a quick lunge at me with his sword, but the blow fell short, and I laughed aloud at him.

‘You will have to come to closer quarters, Rachmanof; there is no help for it,’ I said. ‘It is dangerous, I admit, and mighty unpleasant, but it must be done!’

With a curse he ran three steps upwards and lunged again. This time it was necessary to parry, and I replied with a counter thrust which he just, but only just, contrived to turn aside.

Then the two others came nearer, in response to Rachmanof’s orders. ‘Seize your opportunity to rush in,’ he said, ‘as soon as you perceive an opening.’

There was a slight pause while Rachmanof and his men took breath, watching me, and thinking how best to overpower me by combination. Luckily, the stairs were too narrow to admit of two men fighting abreast, else I suppose I should have been overpowered, for they were good men, all three.

During the pause I could distinctly hear the good Superior praying fervently in the ante-room, of which the door was open.

Then suddenly Rachmanof rushed upon me, and after him another, whose rush was useless, however, for he found himself obliged to wait at Rachmanof’s heels, and when he tried to lunge at me his sword nearly pierced his friend’s shoulder.

I had the best of it as to position, and of this I was determined to take full advantage. His rush was easily stopped, and when I assumed the attack it was not difficult to drive him downwards, since I smote at him from above. Step by step he descended, and his supporter was obliged to descend also, for Rachmanof would otherwise have trodden upon him.

Nevertheless, he fought well for his ground, and did not cease striking and thrusting at me, defending himself at the same time with great skill.

Then I tried a trick upon my man. I pretended to stagger backwards, in order to draw him forward with a long thrust. This succeeded. He thrust so vigorously that he was half overbalanced, and I brought my sword down cleaverwise upon his skull.

Down he went backward into the arms of his friend, who, however, instead of laying him down and giving me a moment of breathing time, held him up with his left arm and lunged instantly at me with his right. The movement was so rapid that I could not withdraw my foot in time, and I received a nasty dig in the soft of my leg.

But my man found he had made a bad speculation, for, rushing quickly upon him while he still stood hampered by his unconscious companion, I easily passed through his scrambling defence, and he dropped Rachmanof with a curse as my sword cut through his arm.

Then he stood and stamped his feet, cursing at the pain and shouting to the third man, who stood at the foot of the stairs, to come forward and help slay the filthy Cossack who had wounded both himself and Vassia.

‘Better leave me alone, friend, and take these fellows away, lest a worse thing happen!’ I cried aloud, with a laugh. ‘See what an advantage I have in this position!—be sure I shall spit you if you come nearer!’

The fellow seemed to consider for a moment, while Rachmanof lay and groaned and the other sat and cursed. He came close to Rachmanof and examined his wound, which was an ugly gash in the head, and did not look likely to have a quick mending.

‘Can you fight any more, Gregorief?’ he asked of the other fellow, who sat and cursed with a hole in his shoulder or arm.

‘How the devil can I fight with my sword arm pierced? A pretty coward are you to hesitate: spit the jeering beast through the stomach, and maybe I shall be able to help in sending him on towards hell.’

Almost before he had finished speaking, the third man, the unwounded one, made a rush upwards as though to lunge at me with his sword, but instead of doing so he suddenly ducked his head, and, spreading himself forward on his face, very quickly and dexterously seized my ankle, and with a violent tug upset me, so that I fell upon the back of my head on the stairs. It was a mighty crash, and as I fell I heard a kind of tumult on the landing above me; but from the moment my head touched the floor I knew nothing until I regained consciousness in the ante-room, and observed with surprise that I lay there with Vera weeping at my feet and the good mother praying at my head, as though I were already a corpse.

I felt pain in my leg and pain in my left arm, and a most racking pain in my head, so that for the first few moments I could not for my life remember what had happened to me. ‘What is the matter?’ I asked. ‘What has happened? Why do you weep, Vera?’

‘You have fought a great fight for us, my son,’ said the mother, ‘and have put to flight our enemies, for which the blessing of God shall rest upon you. Vera weeps because she fears you are sorely hurt, but I think there is no cause for fear. You have two flesh wounds, and a terrible blow on the back of your head has sent your wits wandering; but you will soon be better now that you know us and can speak. Do you remember fighting young Rachmanof and two others on the stairs?’

‘I remember now,’ said I. ‘Where are they? They have not prevailed, mother? Oh, surely I did not allow them to pass up?’

‘No, no, all is well, my son: they have departed, all three, and his sister is safe within. She knows nothing of the danger she has been through this day. Do your wounds pain you?’

‘Not much. I do not remember this one in the arm. How came I by that? After I fell?’

‘I will tell you. There was a rush of your enemies upon you, and we heard the scuffling and cursing. Vera was alarmed for your safety, and ran out upon the landing just as you fell backwards. When you fell the wounded man gashed you with his sword, which entered your arm; then Vera——’

‘No, no, mother, have pity!’ cried Vera, closing her ears with her hands. ‘Do not speak of it. I have killed a man, Chelminsky, and I am accursed—there! I have said it. How should God or man love a woman who has slain a fellow creature? I tell you it is an accursed thing for a woman!’

‘Peace, Vera, you did not kill him, for he was alive enough to walk into the street alone. Peace, I say, child. Listen, Chelminsky, and I will tell you all. You may, I think, under a merciful Providence, thank Vera for your life, which was nearly taken. Vera snatched your sword, which had fallen from your hand, and with it attacked so furiously the fellow who had struck at you as you lay that he cried for mercy and rolled down the stairs out of the way. Meanwhile I dragged you, with Vera’s help, into this room, locking the door behind us. Presently, hearing the street door open, I looked cautiously forth, and lo! our three men were departing. One was, I think, almost or quite untouched: he it was that supported Rachmanof, who seemed badly wounded, though he stood upon his feet. As for him whom Vera struck at, he walked out, as I say, by himself. Nay, Vera, be comforted, child, for now I think of it, he was alive enough to shake his fist at me, and curse me!’ The good old woman laughed and patted Vera, who now stopped crying.

‘Curses do not lie upon such as thee, good mother,’ I said, laughing. ‘Cheer thee, Vera! Be sure thou art not accursed. I am glad indeed the fellow carried away a beating from thee. Did the sword bite? Did blood flow?’

‘Nay, leave the matter, it is painful to her,’ said the older woman. ‘Vera is gentle, and has seen no blood shed up to this day. Let her be, Chelminsky.’

‘At any rate, be thanked, both, for your good service to me!’ said I; ‘for indeed I am glad to live. Oh that you had beaten that third fellow, Vera, even more soundly! The rascal! he threw me by a trick. I will not rest until I have made his head buzz for him as he has made mine!’

‘Nay, that you cannot,’ said the mother, ‘for you are not fit to move, and shall not. Are you content to lie here for a day or two days? There is an old sister within who is clever with herbs and plasters: she will mend you as quickly as the best of leeches.’

‘It is not necessary,’ I said. ‘I would rather go. This fellow Rachmanof and the others will tell all the world that I was here. I should soon be chased out.’

‘If I know mankind, they will say nothing of this day’s work. What, three men to one, and the beaten three to brag of it? Fear not, there will be silence.’

‘And what of Vera? Do you know these men, Vera? Would they have recognised you?’

‘I know not who the two Streltsi were. As for Rachmanof, he would know me, but he was dazed or unconscious, and I think he did not see or recognise me.’

‘At any rate, I will go,’ I determined; ‘for who knows what these fellows will do or say? Better that I should be free to act how I will from without.’

With the words I tried to stand upon my feet; but a mist came before my eyes, my head swam, and I fell back fainting. And there on my back I lay for a week, almost senseless for the first half of it, but quickly recovering throughout the last four days.

During my weakness several things happened that I knew nothing of until afterwards. The ante-room in which I lay was kept locked on the outside, and the key remained in the good mother’s possession, so that no visitors were allowed to enter the chamber occupied by me.

But visitors there were, and important ones, as I must now describe.