e
goes high enough."

"But we shall not be blown up at all," G----, the optimist, said,
interrupting him. "It is all a romance."

"You are mistaken, my dear fellow," Jules de C----replied. "It is like
a romance, but with this confounded Nihilism, everything is the same;
it would be a mistake to trust to it. For instance, the manner in which
I made Bakounine's acquaintance--"

They knew that he was a good narrator, and it was no secret that his
life had been an adventurous one, so they drew closer to him, and
listened intently. This is what he told them:

II

"I met Countess Nioska W----, that strange woman who was usually called
Countess Satan, in Naples. I immediately attached myself to her out of
curiosity, and soon fell in love with her. Not that she was beautiful,
for she was a Russian with the bad characteristics of the Russian type.
She was thin and squat at the same time, while her face was sallow and
puffy, with high cheek-bones and a Cossack's nose. But her conversation
bewitched everyone.

"She was many-sided, learned, a philosopher, scientifically depraved,
satanic. Perhaps the word is rather pretentious, but it exactly
expresses what I want to say, for in other words she loved evil for the
sake of evil. She rejoiced in other people's vices; she liked to sow
the seeds of evil, in order to see it flourish. And that, too, by fraud
on an enormous scale. It was not enough for her to corrupt individuals,
she only did that to keep her hand in; what she wished to do was to
corrupt the masses. By slightly altering it after her own fashion, she
might have used Caligula's famous wish. She also might have wished that
the whole human race had but one head; not in order that she might cut
it off, but that she might make the philosophy of Nihilism flourish
there.

"What a temptation to become the lord and master of such a monster! I
allowed myself to be tempted, and undertook the adventure. The means
came unsought for by me, and the only thing that I had to do was to
show myself more perverted and satanic than she was herself. And so I
played the devil.

"'Yes,' I said, 'we writers are the best workmen for doing evil, as our
books may be bottles of poison. The so-called men of action only turn
the handle of the mitrailleuse which we have loaded. Formulas will
destroy the world, and it is we who invent them.'

"'That is true,' said she, 'and that is what is wanting in Bakounine, I
am sorry to say.'

"That n