“Forgive me, Katerin Stephanovna—I did forget. But now I remember, and I see what you are striving to do. It is true, what you say, and we must play with this American. And if we take good care, it may all come out as you say—it will be a way out of our danger and our troubles. Come, please! Put on the rags, and I shall be the best old exile ever was seen, one who is fleeing from the wicked Governor—from Kirsakoff! Please! Again the bandage, and I’ll be good.” “Ah, little father, there is another way to fight without using swords and guns. There is a way to gain your ends without your enemy’s suspecting that he is pushing your cart.” She gave her attention to putting the bandage back. “I grant the truth of what you say,” said Michael. “But what will Slipitsky say to this? He is a shrewd fox, and there is many a twist in a game of this sort that he knows—he has helped many a man to escape from me, for all his friendship for me in the old days. Never did I dream that we should have to resort to his cleverness—but the fox takes his wisdom where he finds it, and that is why we say that he is wise.” “It does not matter what Slipitsky thinks of it. We cannot leave all the tricks to our enemies. And you must have faith in me, if I am to work this out so that good will come of it, and we get away from the soldiers of the Ataman.” “I’ll trust you, my daughter. By the Saints! You should have been a man, Katerin Stephanovna!” “And perhaps if I were a man, we should both be dead by now,” said Katerin. “This is a war of wits, and we women have had to use our wits for many years. And if those in the high places had heeded the women, Russia might not have come to what she has.” “It is good that there are wits between the two of us, for mine are gone, my daughter. I am a hindrance. I am but a millstone about your neck, else you would have escaped from Chita long before this.” “You won’t be a millstone if you will obey what I advise in this affair with the American officer. If we cannot go through with this thing, it is better not to try our hands at it.” “Have no fear—I’ll say black is white if it does you any good,” said Michael, now once more with his face trussed in the bandages. “Listen well to what I say,” cautioned Katerin. “And you, too, Wassili. For if we fail, we have not one enemy, but two—this stranger as well as the Ataman. And if we succeed, we have none, for one will save us from the other. What better can we ask than that a man who is an enemy should deliver us from danger?” “Give me two enemies, if that can be done,” said Michael.