“No matter. It will suit our purposes admirably.” The captain paused in thought, wondering why anyone would want to sail on an old coal carrier when more appealing alternatives were available. Federoff mistook the captain's hesitation for the opening round of a bargaining session. Reaching into his breast pocket, he withdrew a thick envelope and placed it on the table. He opened the envelope slightly so the captain could see that it held thousands of rubles.

“You would be well compensated.” Tovrov swallowed hard. With shaking fingers, he dug a cigarette from its pack and lit up. “I don't understand,” he said.

Federoff noted the captain's bewilderment. “What do you know about the political state of our country?”

The captain relied on scuttlebutt and out-of-date papers for his news. “I am a simple sailor,” he replied. “I rarely set foot on Russian soil.”

“Even so, you are a man of vast practical experience. Please be frank, my friend. I have always valued your opinion.”

Tovrov pondered what he knew about Russia's tribulations and put it in a nautical context. “If a ship were in the same condition as our country, I would wonder why it is not at the bottom of the sea.”

“I have always admired your candor,” Federoff replied, with a hearty laugh. “It seems you have a gift for metaphor as well.” He grew serious again. “Your reply is entirely to the point. Russia is indeed in a perilous state. Our young men are dying in the Great War, the tsar has abdicated, the Bolsheviks are ruthlessly assuming power, the Germans occupy our southern flank and we have called upon other nations to snatch our chestnuts from the fire.”

“I had no idea things were that bad.” “They are getting worse, if you can believe it. Which brings me back to you and your ship.” Federoff locked his eyes on the captain's. “We loyal patriots here in Odessa have our backs to the sea. The White Army holds territory, but the Reds are pressing from the north and will soon overwhelm them. The German army's ten-mile military zone will dissolve like sugar in water. By taking on these passengers, you would be doing a great service for Russia.”

The captain considered himself a citizen of the world, but deep down he was no different from the rest of his countrymen, with their deep attachment to the motherland. He knew that the Bolsheviks were arresting and executing the old guard and that many refugees had escaped to the south. He had talked with other captains who whispered tales of taking on important passengers in the dead of night.