Antonov!" they wailed. "Spare our lives. We know we are guilty. But we throw ourselves on the mercy of the Revolution."
Sorry ending to a gay adventure! In the morning sallying out to kill Bolsheviks and in the evening begging Bolsheviks for their own lives. Saying "Tovarish" as one might say "swine," then breathing it reverently as a term of honor.
"Tovarish Antonov," they implored, "give us your word as a Bolshevik, a true Bolshevik. Give us your word for our safety."
"My word," said Antonov. "I give it."
"They may not take your word, Tovarish Antonov," muttered one poor wretch. "They may kill us anyhow."
"If they kill you," assured Antonov, "they must first kill me."
"But we don't want to be killed," whimpered the poor fellow.
The Mob Decrees Death
to the White Guards.
Antonov could not conceal his contempt. Turning into the hall, he started down the stairs. To the taut nerves every step sounded like the detonation of a gun.
The Red throng outside heard the steps and raised their rifles expecting a fusillade. And then this surprise! Antonov, their own leader!
"Nash! Nash!" (Ours! Ours!) acclaimed a hundred voices. "Antonov! Long live Antonov!" rose
