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Afterward she said sleepily: "What will happen next?"
"There's going to be a constituent assembly, elected by what they called the four-tail suffrage: universal, direct, secret, and equal. Meanwhile the Duma is forming a provisional government. "
"Who will be its leader?"
"Lvov. "
Katerina sat upright. "A prince! Why?"
"They want the confidence of all classes. "
"To hell with all classes!" Indignation made her even more beautiful, bringing color to her face and a sparkle to her eyes. "The workers and soldiers have made the revolution-why do we need the confidence of anyone else?"
This question had bothered Grigori, too, but the answer had convinced him. "We need businessmen to reopen factories, wholesalers to recommence supplying the city, shopkeepers to open their doors again. "
"And what about the tsar?"
"The Duma is demanding his abdication. They have sent two delegates to Pskov to tell him so. "
Katerina was wide-eyed. "Abdication? The tsar? But that would be the end. "
"Yes. "
"Is it possible?"
"I don't know," said Grigori. "We'll find out tomorrow. "
{VI}
In the Catherine Hall of the Tauride Palace on Friday, the debate was desultory. Two or three thousand men and a few women packed the room, and the air was full of tobacco smoke and the smell of unwashed soldiers. They were waiting to hear what the tsar would do.
The debate was frequently interrupted for announcements. Often they were less than urgent-a soldier would stand up to say that his battalion had formed a committee and arrested the colonel. Sometimes they were not even announcements, but speeches calling for the defense of the revolution.
But Grigori knew something was different when a gray-haired sergeant jumped onto the platform, pink-faced and breathless, with a sheet of paper in his hand, and called for silence.
Slowly and loudly he said: "The tsar has signed a document. . . "
The cheering began after those few words.
The sergeant raised his voice: ". . . abdicating the crown. . . "
The cheer rose to a roar. Grigori was electrified. Had it really happened? Had the dream come true?
The sergeant held up his hand for quiet. He had not yet finished.
". . . and because of the poor health of his twelve-year-old son, Alexei, he has named as his successor the grand duke Mikhail, the tsar's younger brother. "
The cheers turned to howls of protest. "No!" Grigori shouted, and his voice was lost among thousands.
When after several minutes they began to quieten, a greater roar was heard from outside. The crowd in the courtyard must have heard the same news, and were receiving it with the same indignation.
Grigori said to Konstantin: "The provisional government must not accept this. "
"Agreed," said Konstantin. "Let's go and tell them so. "
They left the soviet and crossed the palace. The ministers of the newly formed government were meeting in the room where the old temporary committee had met-indeed, they were to a worrying degree the same men. They were already discussing the tsar's statement.
Pavel Miliukov was on his feet. The monocled moderate was arguing that the monarchy had to be preserved as a symbol of legitimacy. "Horseshit," Grigori muttered. The monarchy symbolized incompetence, cruelty, and defeat, but not legitimacy. Fortunately, others felt the same way. Kerensky, who was now minister of justice, proposed that Grand Duke Mikhail should be told to refuse the crown, and to Grigori's relief the majority agreed.
