Then this philosophy of life, held and pronounced by a man sentenced to long years of prison, seemed repellent to me; but now I feel that he was quite right.
I remember, as though it were only yesterday, July 20th, 1905, when the application of the above dictum came in my own life. It was half-past four in the morning when someone knocked at the door of my car, which my orderly opened. Just after I had looked at my watch and was trying to catch the conversation, the man came in and reported:
"A Chinese has arrived, breathless from running, and wants to see you at once, sir."
"Let him come in."
A labourer came in and, in broken Russian, began telling me excitedly about an accident which had occurred at one of the ovens.
"As we started taking out the coal, your assistant, Chief, with two labourers was on the top of the oven, when suddenly it caved in and let the men down into the fire. Come, Chief, come quickly, because everyone has lost his head!"
Such terror and despair were pictured in the face of the Chinese that I realized something dreadful had occurred. I jumped up, and, after directing the orderly to telephone to Udzimi for a doctor and nurses, I ran from the car without a coat and without arms, following closely upon the heels of the Chinese. In the village everything was still. As we passed one of the Cossacks on guard near the stores of charcoal, I shouted directions to him to send the sergeant and the remaining Cossacks to the place of the accident. I was wearing high boots over my trousers and a white shirt, in the left breastpocket of which I was carrying a small but rather thick notebook. When we had run for about half a mile and
