put yourself on my level? Ha! ha! ha! No, brother; I am still in the
Czar's service and wear my honor with my uniform! I, brother, have
never stained myself with theft or crime, Heaven be praised. But what
are you?"

"Hm! And the Golden Band? Who is its captain?" muttered Gretcka
angrily, half to himself.

"Who is its captain? I am--I, Lieutenant Sergei Antonitch Kovroff, of
the Chernovarski Dragoons! Do you hear? I am captain of the Golden
Band," he said proudly and haughtily, scrutinizing the company with
his confident gaze. "And you haven't yet got as far as the Golden
Band, because you are _cowards_! Chuproff," he cried to one of his
men, "go and take the mask off Finch, or the poor boy will suffocate,
and untie his arms--and give him a good crack on the head to teach him
to keep watch better."

The "mask" that Kovroff employed on such occasions was nothing but a
piece of oilcloth cut the size of a person's face, and smeared on one
side with a thick paste. Kovroff's "boys" employed this "instrument"
with wonderful dexterity; one of them generally stole up behind the
unconscious victim and skillfully slapped the mask in his face; the
victim at once became dumb and blind, and panted from lack of breath;
at the same time, if necessary, his hands were tied behind him and he
was leisurely robbed, or held, as the case might be.

The Golden Band was formed in the middle of the thirties, when the
first Nicholas had been about ten years on the throne. Its first
founders were three Polish nobles. It was never distinguished by the
number of its members, but everyone of them could honestly call