The era of 1825 was a time of political uncertainty and deafening murmurings in the empire, where freethinking was stigmatised by exile and the air was saturated with tension. Through the thickness of popular dissatisfaction the sprouts of rebellious ideas were breaking through, like poison, poisoning the foundations of the state.

Within the walls of General Benckendorff's office reigned its own atmosphere - an atmosphere of suppression. Under the monotonous clatter of the stamp "forbid" ruthlessly extinguished hopes and ruined fortunes: the stacks of personal files of those who dared to protest were replenished with frightening regularity.

The creak of the door opening like a gunshot broke the silence. The "troublemaker" was led into the office like a prisoner, who was to be given an "educational talk" - a formality before imminent punishment.

"There is a great enthusiasm for seditious verses, don't you think? Rebels, copyists and Pushkin imitators have proliferated...," — the words, soaked with contempt, fell into silence, and a pile of tattered sheets was roughly thrown on the table. "The only thing that draws a line between him and you is the lack of talent."