# Diamonds To Sit On/Chapter 18

Contents
CHAPTER XVIII
WHERE ARE THE OTHERS
WHILE the two friends were busy in Moscow visiting museums and auction-rooms, the doubly-bereaved widow Gritsatsuev, who was terribly upset, was discussing her loss with the neighbours. They all examined the note Bender had left her. Three days passed, but there was neither a sign of him nor of the tea-strainer, the bracelet, or chair. They had all mysteriously vanished. At last she took matters into her own hands and went to the offices of a Stargorod newspaper, where they immediately wrote out an announcement for her:
I Implore
Those persons knowing the whereabouts of Comrade Bender, aged 25-30, brown hair, who left home dressed in a green suit, yellow boots, and pale blue waistcoat, to send information to Madam Gritsatsuev, 15 Plekhanov Street, Stargorod
REWARD OFFERED
'Is it your son?' they asked her sympathetically in the newspaper office.
'It is my husband,' said the martyr, burying her face in her
'Oh! your husband.'
'Yes, my legal husband. What of it?'
'Oh! nothing, nothing. I think you had better apply to the militia.'
The widow was alarmed, for she was afraid of the militia. ​Three days running she made a ringing appeal from the pages of the Stargorod Truth, but there was no response. There was no one who knew the whereabouts of the gentleman in yellow boots, and no one claimed the reward. The neighbours gossiped while the widow grew more and more depressed. It was a strange business. Her husband had flashed across the sky like a meteor, taking in his wake a perfectly good chair and a tea-strainer. But the widow still loved him. Who can understand the heart of a woman, and especially the heart of a widow?
The citizens of Stargorod had long since grown accustomed to the tram. They climbed in and out of it without the slightest nervousness. The conductor shouted: 'Full up!’ and everything went on as if the tram had been in the town ever since the days of the Flood. Unruly passengers, women and children, and Viktor Mikhaylovich Polesov insisted upon getting into the tram from the front instead of through the door at the back. To the demand of: ‘Fares, please 1’ Polesov always replied grandly: ‘ Season ticket’; but of course he had not got a season ticket, for there were none issued.
The visit of Hippolyte and Bender had made a deep impression on the town.
There were others in Stargorod besides the widow Gritsatsuev who were wondering where Comrade Bender and his friend had vanished to; these were the members of the 'Secret Union of the Sword and Plough', who were carefully guarding the secret entrusted to them. Viktor Mikhaylovich Polesov was longing to confide in some one, but remembering Bender’s powerful shoulders and stony glare he refrained. He could not discuss the matter with any one except the fortune-teller.
‘And what do you think about it?’ he would say. ​ What possible explanation can you give for their disappearance?’
Elena Stanislavovna was also most interested, but she had no solution to offer.
‘And don’t you think,’ continued the irrepressible locksmith, ‘that they are probably executing some special mission?’
The fortune-teller was convinced that that was what they were doing.
‘And don’t you think that we ought to go on with the work? After all, we can’t sit with our hands folded.’
The fortune-teller agreed, and remarked that Hippolyte was a hero.
‘Of course he’s a hero! That’s obvious. And that splendid officer with him is a very business-like man.
You can say what you like, but the matter ought not to be left at a standstill.’
And Polesov set to work. He paid regular visits to all the members of the ' Secret Union of the Sword and Plough’; he was particularly assiduous in paying attention to Kislyarsky, and Kislyarsky would turn pale every time he saw Polesov, for he was terrified of this secret organization.
At the end of the week the members met in the fortune-teller’s room. The parrot was also present. Polesov was bursting with excitement.
‘Viktor, you’re a fool! ’ Dyadiev called across the room. ‘ What do you manage to do with yourself running about the town all day?’
‘We must act!’ Polesov shouted back.
'Of course we must act, but there’s absolutely no reason why you should shout. Now, gentlemen, this is how I understand the matter. If Hippolyte has said that the mission is a holy one, then it is a holy one, and we must take it that we haven’t much longer to wait. How it will happen we don’t need to know. There are military people to attend to ​all that; we are simply concerned with the civil side. We are the representatives of the merchants and the intelligentsia. What is the most important thing for us to do? The most important thing for us is to be ready. Have we anything ready? Have we a centre? No! Who will be the mayor of the town? We have no one. And that, gentlemen, is the most important question. The English will not stand on ceremony with the Bolsheviks, you’ll see, and I can assure you that things will change very rapidly.’
‘We don’t doubt it,’ said Charushnikov sulkily.
‘Well, that’s splendid! What is your opinion,
Mr. Kislyarsky? And yours, young men?’
The two louts, Nicky and Vlady, expressed their conviction that there would soon be a rapid change, and Kislyarsky, who had discovered that he would not be expected to take any active part, signified his approval by nodding.
‘Well, what do you want us to do?’ asked Viktor Mikhaylovich impatiently.
‘You wait! ’ said Dyadiev. ‘You should remember Mr. Vorobianinov. What cautiousness! Didn’t you notice how quickly he changed the subject round to helping the destitute children? We are to help the children. So, gentlemen, let us nominate the candidates.’
'We propose Hippolyte as marshal of nobility,’ shouted the two young men.
Charushnikov gave his assent and then said:
‘Vorobianinov will never be less than a minister and probably a dictator!’
‘Gentlemen,’ said Dyadiev, ‘ that’s the last thing we should be deciding. Let us begin with the governor.
I propose ——’
‘Mr. Dyadiev’ shouted Polesovecst atically. ‘Who else could take on such a responsibility?’
‘I am highly flattered,’ began Dyadiev, but Charush nikov suddenly interrupted. ​‘I think such an important question should be debated.’
‘Take a vote!’
They voted by ballot in the honest European way. Dyadiev was not chosen and the fortune-teller felt sorry for him. The ballot was continued and each member had allocated to him a future position in the town. At last, after a long discussion, the meeting came to an end and the members dispersed.