Zara left her place beside me on the divan, and stood facing me, near
the center table, and in the intensity of her story, lowered her voice
perceptibly. She bent forward a little, unconsciously throwing over me
the same sort of spell that now dominated her. In my own eagerness I
leaned forward, my right elbow resting upon my knee, and with bated
breath, waited for her to continue. When she did resume, it was with a
suppressed intensity that is indescribable.
"This is what the old servant told you: An hour after midnight there
was a peremptory summons at the door, and when he opened it he
discovered beyond the threshold, one of those terrible details of
fiends which the Third Section sends out on its foulest errands; but he
did not dream that they were after your sister; he only thought that
you were in trouble. The officer in charge went straight to the door of
your sister's room, as if he were as familiar with the internal
arrangements of the house, as were its regular inmates. He threw the
door ajar without warning, and followed by the scoundrels who
accompanied him, entered the room where your sister was in bed.
Sleeping innocence was aroused by a brutal command. Your sister, as
pure, as sweet, as guiltless of wrong, as beautiful in spirit as the
angels in heaven, was dragged from her bed by the rough hands of those
human devils. Her shrieks and cries, were answered by jeers. Her
piteous appeal that they would leave the room until she clothed
herself, was refused with curses. She was compelled to dress in their
presence, underneath the blazing glare of every light in the room, and
before the eyes of those inhuman wretches whose gloating, bloodshot
gaze befouled her sweet purity, as a drop of filth will befoul a limpid
spring."
"If you had entered the room at that moment, and the czar had been
there, would you have killed him, Dubravnik? Have you a sister? Answer!
Would you have killed the czar, if he had been there? THE CZAR WAS
THERE!"
Zara raised herself to her full stature as she cried aloud this
statement. Her right hand was raised high above her head; her attitude
was one of righteous denouncement, and the wrath of an outraged goddess
glowed like living fire, in every attribute of her being. Then she came
a step nearer to me, and continued: "He was there in the spirit of the outrage. He creates and upholds the
law which permitted it. Yes, you would have killed him, and you would
not have called it murder. You would have given the deed another name;
you would have called it retribution. I see it in your face; it flashes
in your eyes. I am not telling you a romance, in order to excite your
compassion, or to create sympathy. I am relating an actual occurrence.
I am telling you the story that made me a nihilist."