Barney Kohl … his face was solemn, but there was an obvious bulge at his waistband. Beside him was the square, tough face of Gant. Suddenly, Jean was filled with excitement. They had escaped then … none of them were known to Zinnovy, and they were here. That meant they had been able to hide out after the attack on the Susquehanna.
His eyes searched the crowd … Ben Turk … beside him was Shin Boyar. There were several other men he did not know but he was sure they were Americans; they looked like Frisco seamen, right off the waterfront. And they were scattered, scattered in a perimeter around the room. Kohl was seated right behind a guard. Boyar was beside another. That meant they intended to break him out, which meant shooting unless they had a plan, a good plan.
Baron Paul Zinnovy came into the room. He walked to the desk and seated himself. He was cool, composed, sure. If he noticed the strange faces in the crowd he gave no evidence of it.
The clerk got to his feet. “Jean LaBarge, stand and receive sentence!” Jean LaBarge got to his feet, and Baron Zinnovy looked over the papers he held in his hand. He smiled at LaBarge, finding pleasure in the moment. Suddenly there was a rustle of movement at the door, a shoving, a whisper, a shout, and then the door pushed open and a man in civilian clothes entered followed by a line of American bluejackets.
The man passed LaBarge by without speaking and stopped before Zinnovy, whose face had turned ashen.
“Baron Zinnovy? I am Brigadier General Lovell H. Rousseau, United States Commissioner to accept the Territory of Alaska from the government of Russia.” A Russian officer walked from the. door to a place beside the general. He stood at attention and bobbed his head. “Captain Alexei Petchouroff,” he said. “Special Emissary of His Imperial Majesty the Czar of all the Russias!”
Baron Paul Zinnovy leaned back in his chair, his face without expression.
Captain Petchouroff extended an envelope to Zinnovy. “My orders, sir, and yours.
You are to return to Okhotsk to await His Imperial Majesty’s pleasure.” Zinnovy got to his feet. “Of course, but we have a trial here, and—“ Petchouroff waved a gesture of dismissal. “In honor of this great day, His Imperial Majesty has declared a general amnesty. A pardon for all on trial and all awaiting trial in Russian America. They are free, and you are freed of this disagreeable duty!”
Jean LaBarge turned to meet Helena as she ran to him from across the room, and then the crew of the Susquehanna moved in around him.
The morning was bright and clear. Brigadier General Rousseau and General Jefferson C. Davis, backed by a solid square of two hundred American sailors, soldiers and marines, stood at attention. Across from them stood one hundred Russian soldiers in their gray, red-trimmed uniforms. The music began, and officers on both sides mounted the steps of the Castle where Prince Maksoutof awaited them. They turned and faced the square, Captain Petchouroff descending to a place beside General Rousseau.
As the Russian flag was lowered, Princess Maksoutof sobbed gently. Among the Russian civilians several were openly crying.
The American flag climbed the staff and out on the bay the guns of the U.S.S.
Ossipee boomed a salute.
Behind the gathered civilians Jean LaBarge stood beside Helena, and as the flag climbed the staff, Jean whispered, “Do you know what I’m thinking of now? I’m remembering a boy who grew up back on the Susquehanna, a boy who was smaller than any of us, but bigger in a lot of ways than any of us would ever be. In the future they may forget, or they may say cruel things about him. But what he did was not small, and there will always be a few who will not forget.” Helena squeezed his hand. “What about the other boy?”
“He now has”—he took her arm gently—“all he could ever want.” They stood together, watching the flag flutter at the masthead, and listened to the dull boom of the guns out on the bay, and heard the echoes thrown back by the mountains, while on the ageless slopes of Mount Edgecumbe the sun made a moment of glory.