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diff --git a/44117-0.txt b/44117-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd03715 --- /dev/null +++ b/44117-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10603 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44117 *** + + THE DUEL + + [Illustration: colophon] + + + + + BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + + + Alexander Kuprin was born in 1870. He passed through the Cadet School +and Military College at Moscow, entered the Army as lieutenant in 1890, + and resigned after seven years to devote himself to literature. + + + + + THE DUEL + + _By_ A. KUPRIN + + [Illustration: text decoration] + + LONDON: + GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD. + RUSKIN HOUSE 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. + + _First published in 1916_ + + [_An abridged version was published under the title + "In Honour's Name" in 1907_] + + (_All rights reserved_) + + + + + THE DUEL + + + + +I + + +The 6th Company's afternoon drill was nearly over, and the junior +officers looked with increasing frequency at their watches, and with +growing impatience. The rank and file of the new regiment were being +instructed in garrison duty. Along the whole of the extensive +parade-ground the soldiers stood in scattered groups: by the poplars +that bordered the causeway, by the gymnastic apparatus, by the door of +the company's school, and in the neighbourhood of the butts. All these +places were to represent during the drill the most important buildings +in the garrison--the commander's residence, the headquarters, the powder +magazine, the administration department, etc. Sentries were posted and +relieved; patrols marched here and there, shouting at and saluting each +other in military fashion; harsh non-commissioned officers visited and +examined the sentries on duty, trying, sometimes by a trick, sometimes +by pretended threats, to fool the soldiers into infringing the rules, +e.g. to quit their posts, give up their rifles, to take charge of +contraband articles, etc. The older men, who had had previous experience +of such practical jokes, were very seldom taken in, but answered rudely, +"The Tsar alone gives orders here," etc., etc. The young recruits, on +the other hand, often enough fell into the snare set for them. + +"Khliabnikov!" a stout little "non-com." cried angrily in a voice which +betrayed a passion for ruling. "What did I tell you just now, simpleton? +Did I put you under arrest? What are you sticking there for, then? Why +don't you answer?" + +In the third platoon a tragi-comic scene took place. Moukhamedjinov, a +young soldier, Tartar by birth, was not yet versed in the Russian +language. He got more and more confused under the commander's irritating +and insidious questions. At last he lost his head entirely, brought his +rifle to the charge, and threatened all the bystanders with the bayonet. + +"Stop, you madman!" roared Sergeant Bobuilev. "Can't you recognize your +own commander, your own captain?" + +"Another step and you are a dead man!" shouted the Tartar, in a furious +rage. His eyes were bloodshot, and he nervously repelled with his +bayonet all who approached him. Round about him, but at a respectful +distance, a crowd of soldiers flocked together, accepting with joy and +gratitude this interesting little interlude in the wearisome drill. + +Sliva, the captain of the company, approached to see what was going on. +While he was on the opposite side of the parade-ground, where, with bent +back and dragging steps, he tottered slowly backwards and forwards, a +few young officers assembled in a small group to smoke and chatter. They +were three, all told: Lieutenant Viätkin, a bald, moustached man of +thirty-three, a jovial fellow, chatterbox, singer, and particularly fond +of his glass; Sub-Lieutenant Romashov, who had hardly served two years +in the regiment; and, lastly, Sub-Ensign Lbov, a lively, well-shaped +young man, with an expression of shrewd geniality in his pale eyes and +an eternal smile on his thick, innocent lips. He passed for a +peripatetic storehouse of anecdotes, specially crammed with old and +worn-out officers' stories. + +"This is an out-and-out scandal," said Viätkin, as he looked at his +dainty little watch, the case of which he angrily closed with a little +click. "What the devil does he mean by keeping the company all this +time?" + +"You should ask him that question, Pavel Pavlich," replied Lbov, with a +sly look. + +"Oh, go to the devil! Go and ask him yourself. But the point which I +want to emphasize is that the whole business is utterly futile; there is +always this fuss before the review, and every time they overdo it. The +soldiers are so worried and badgered, that at the review they stand like +blockheads. Do you know that story about the two captains who made a +pretty heavy bet as to which of them had in his company the best +trencher-man? When one of the 'champions' had consumed seven pounds of +bread he was obliged to acknowledge himself beaten. His Captain, furious +with indignation, sent for his sergeant-major, and said: 'What made you +send me a creature like that? After his seventh pound he had to give up, +and I've lost my wager!' The poor sergeant-major stared at his superior. +'I don't know what could have happened to him, your Excellency. This +very morning I rehearsed with him, and then he ate _eight_ pounds +without any ado.' It's the same case here, gentlemen. We rehearse +without mercy and common-sense up to the very last, and thus, when the +tug-of-war comes, the soldier drops down from sheer weariness." + +"Last night," began Lbov, who could hardly get his words out for +laughing--"last night, when the drill was over, I went to my quarters. +It was past eight, and quite dark then. As I was approaching the +barracks of the 11th Company I heard some ear-piercing music from there. +I go there and am told that the men are being taught our horn signals. +All the recruits were obliged to sing in chorus. It was a hideous +concert, and I asked Lieutenant Andrusevich how any one could put up +with such a row so late at night. He answered laughingly, 'Why shouldn't +we now and then, like the dogs, howl at the moon?'" + +"Now I can't stand this any longer," interrupted Viätkin, with a yawn. +"But who's that riding down there? It looks like Biek." + +"Yes, it's Biek-Agamalov," replied sharp-sighted Lbov. "Look how +beautifully he rides." + +"Yes, he does," chimed in Romashov. "To my thinking, he rides better +than any other of our cavalrymen. But just look at his horse dancing. +Biek is showing off." + +An officer, wearing an Adjutant's uniform and white gloves, was riding +quietly along the causeway. He was sitting on a high, slim-built horse +with a gold-coloured and short-clipped tail, after the English fashion. +The spirited animal pirouetted under his rider, and impatiently shook +its branch-bit by the violent tossings of its long and nobly formed +neck. + +"Pavel Pavlich, is it a fact that Biek is a Circassian by birth?" asked +Romashov. + +"Yes, I think so," answered Viätkin. "Armenians pretend sometimes that +they are Circassians or Lezghins,[1] but nobody can be deceived with +regard to Biek. Only look how he carries himself on horseback." + +"Wait, I'll call him," said Lbov. + +Lbov put his hands to his mouth, and tried to form out of them a sort of +speaking-tube, and shouted in a suppressed voice, so as not to be heard +by the Commander-- + +"Lieutenant Biek-Agamalov!" + +The officer on horseback pulled the reins, stopped for a second, and +swung in the saddle towards the right. Then he also turned his horse to +the right, bent slightly forward, and, with a springy and energetic +movement, jumped the ditch, and rode in a short gallop up to the +officers. + +He was a man somewhat below the medium height, lean, muscular, and very +powerful. His countenance, with its receding forehead, delicate, +aquiline nose, and strong, resolute lines about the mouth, was manly and +handsome, and had not yet got the pale and sickly hue that is so +characteristic of the Oriental when he is getting on in years. + +"Good-day, Biek," was Viätkin's greeting. "Who was the girl for whom you +were exercising your arts of seduction down there, you lady-killer?" + +Biek-Agamalov shook hands with the officers, whilst with an easy and +graceful movement he bent slightly forward in the saddle. He smiled, and +his gleaming white and even row of teeth cast a sort of lustre over the +lower part of his face, with its black and splendidly cultivated +moustache. + +"Two or three little Jewess girls were there, but what is that to do +with me? I took no notice of them." + +"Ah! we know well enough how you play the game with ladies," said +Viätkin jestingly. + +"I say!" interrupted Lbov, with a laugh; "have you heard what General +Dokturov[2] remarked about the Adjutants in the infantry? It ought to +interest you, Biek. He said they were the most dare-devil riders in the +whole world." + +"No lies, now, ensign," replied Biek, as he gave his horse the reins and +assumed an expression as if he intended to ride down the joker. + +"It's true, by God it is! 'They ride,' said he, 'the most wretched +"crocks" in the world--spavined "roarers"--and yet, only give the order, +and off they fly at the maddest speed over stocks and stones, hedges and +ditches--reins loose, stirrups dropped, cap flying, ah!--veritable +cantaurs.'" + +"What news, Biek?" asked Viätkin. + +"What news? None. Ah! stay. A little while ago the Commander of the +regiment ran across Lieutenant-Colonel Liekh at mess. Liekh, as drunk as +a lord, was wobbling against the wall with his hands behind him, and +hardly able to stammer out a syllable. Shulgovich rushed at him like an +infuriated bull, and bellowed in such a way that it might be heard over +the whole market-place: 'Please remove your hands from the small of your +back when you stand in the presence of your commanding officer.' And all +the servants witnessed this edifying scene." + +"Ah! that is detestable," chimed in Viätkin, laughing. "Yesterday, when +he favoured the 4th Company with a visit, he shouted: 'Who dares to +thrust the regulations in my face? I am your regulations. Not a word +more. Here I'm your Tsar and your God.'" + +Lbov was again laughing at his own thoughts. + +"Gentlemen, have you heard what happened to the Adjutant of the 4th +Regiment?" + +"Keep your eternal stories to yourself, Lbov," exclaimed Viätkin, +interrupting him in a severe tone. "To-day you're worse than usual." + +"I have some more news to tell," Biek-Agamalov went on to say, as he +again facetiously threatened Lbov with his horse, which, snorting and +shaking its head, beslavered all around it with foam. "The Commander has +taken it into his head that the officers of all the companies are to +practise sabre-cutting at a dummy. He has aroused a fearful animosity +against himself in the 9th Company. Epifanov was arrested for having +neglected to sharpen his sabre. But what are you frightened of, Lbov? He +isn't dangerous, and you must teach yourself to make friends with these +noble animals. It may, you know, some day fall to your lot to be +Adjutant; but then, I suppose, you will sit your horse as securely as a +roast sparrow on a dish." + +"_Retro, Satanas!_" cried Lbov, who had some difficulty in protecting +himself against the horse's froth-covered muzzle. "You've heard, I +suppose, what happened to an Adjutant of the 4th Regiment who bought +himself a circus-horse? At the review itself, right before the eyes of +the inspecting General, the well-trained beast began to exhibit its +proficiency in the 'Spanish walk.' You know, I suppose, what that is? At +every step the horse's legs are swung high in the air from one side to +the other. At last, both horse and rider alighted in the thick of the +company. Shrieks, oaths, universal confusion, and a General, half-dead +with rage, who at last, by a supreme effort, managed to hiss out: +'Lieutenant and Adjutant, for this exhibition of your skill in riding +you have twenty-one days' arrest. March!'" + +"What rot!" interrupted Viätkin in an indignant tone. "I say, Biek, the +news of the sabre-cutting was by no means a surprise to us. It means +that we do not get any free time at all. Turn round and see what an +abortion some one brought here yesterday." + +He concluded his sentence by a significant gesture towards the middle of +the parade-ground, where a monstrously ugly figure of raw clay, lacking +both arms and legs, had been erected. + +"Ha! look there--already. Well, have you tried it?" asked Biek, his +interest excited. "Have you had a go at it yet, Romashov?" + +"Not yet." + +"Don't you think I've something better to do than occupy myself with +rubbish of that sort?" exclaimed Viätkin angrily. "When am I to find +time for that? From nine in the morning to six at night I have to be +here, there, and everywhere, and hardly manage to get a bite or sup. +Besides, thank God! I've still my wits about me." + +"What silly talk! An officer ought to be able to handle his sabre." + +"Why? if I may ask. You surely know that in warfare, with the firearms +now in use, one never gets within a range of a hundred paces of the +enemy. What the devil's the use of a sabre to me? I'm not a cavalryman. +When it comes to the point, I shall seize hold of a rifle and--bang! So +the matter's simple enough. People may say what they please; the bullet +is, after all, the safest." + +"Possibly so; but, even in time of peace, there are still many occasions +when the sabre may come in useful--for instance, if one is attacked in +street riots, tumults, etc." + +"And you think I should condescend to exchange cuts with the tag-rag of +the streets? No, thank you, my good friend. In such a case I prefer to +give the command, 'Aim, fire'--and all's said and done." + +Biek-Agamalov's face darkened. + +"You are talking nonsense, Pavel Pavlich. Now answer me this: Suppose, +when you are taking a walk, or are at a theatre or restaurant, some +coxcomb insults you or a civilian boxes your ears. What will you do +then?" + +Viätkin shrugged his shoulders and protruded his under lip +contemptuously. + +"In the first place, that kind of man only attacks those who show that +they are afraid of him, and, in the second, I have my--revolver." + +"But suppose the revolver were left at home?" remarked Lbov. + +"Then, naturally, I should have to go home and fetch it. What stupid +questions! You seem to have clean forgotten the incident of a certain +cornet who was insulted at a music-hall by two civilians. He drove home +for his revolver, returned to the music-hall, and cheerfully shot down +the pair who had insulted him--simple enough." + +Biek-Agamalov made an indignant gesture. "We know--we have heard all +that, but in telling the story you forget that the cornet in question +was convicted of deliberate murder. Truly a very pretty business. If I +had found myself in a similar situation, I should have----" + +He did not finish his sentence, but the little, well-formed hand in +which he held the reins was clenched so hard that it trembled. Lbov was +seized with one of his usual paroxysms of laughter. + +"Ah! you're at it again," Viätkin remarked severely. + +"Pardon me, gentlemen, but I really couldn't--ha, ha, ha! I happened to +think of a tragi-comic scene that was enacted in the 17th Regiment. +Sub-Ensign Krause on one occasion had a row with some one in an +aristocratic club. The steward, to prevent further mischief, seized him +so violently by the shoulder-knot that the latter was torn off, +whereupon Krause drew his revolver and put a bullet through the +steward's skull. A little lawyer who incautiously mixed himself up in +the game shared the same fate. The rest of the party rushed out of the +room like so many frightened hens. But Krause quietly proceeded to the +camp, and was then challenged by the sentry. 'Who goes there?' shouted +the sentry. 'Sub-Ensign Krause, who is coming to die by the colours of +his regiment'; whereupon he walked straight up to the colours, laid +himself down on the ground, and fired a bullet through his left arm. The +court afterwards acquitted him." + +"That was a fine fellow," exclaimed Biek-Agamalov. + +Then began the young officers' usual favourite conversation on duels, +fights, and other sanguinary scenes, whereupon it was stated with great +satisfaction that such transgressions of law and municipal order always +went unpunished. Then, for instance, a story was told about how a +drunken, beardless cornet had drawn his sword at random on a small crowd +of Jews who were returning from keeping the Passover; how a +sub-lieutenant in the infantry had, at a dancing-hall, stabbed to death +an undergraduate who happened to elbow him at the buffet, how an officer +at St. Petersburg or Moscow shot down like a dog a civilian who dared to +make the impertinent observation that decent people were not in the +habit of accosting ladies with whom they are not acquainted. + +Romashov, who, up to now, had been a silent listener to these piquant +stories, now joined in the conversation; but he did so with every sign +of reluctance and embarrassment. He cleared his throat, slowly adjusted +his eyeglass, though that was not absolutely necessary then, and +finally, in an uncertain voice, spoke as follows-- + +"Gentlemen, allow me to submit to you this question: In a dispute of +that sort it might happen, you know, that the civilian chanced to be a +respectable man, even perhaps a person of noble birth. Might it not, in +that case, be more correct to demand of him an explanation or +satisfaction? We should both belong to the cultured class, so to speak." + +"You're talking nonsense, Romashov," interrupted Viätkin. "If you want +satisfaction from such scum you'll most certainly get the following +answer, which is little gratifying: 'Ah, well, my good sir, I do not +give satisfaction. That is contrary to my principles. I loathe duels and +bloodshed--and besides, you can have recourse, you know, to the Justice +of the Peace, in the event of your feeling yourself wronged.' And then, +for the whole of your life, you must carry the delightful recollection +of an unavenged box on the ears from a civilian." + +Biek-Agamalov smiled in approbation, and with more than his usual +generosity showed his whole row of gleaming white teeth. "Hark you, +Viätkin, you ought really to take some interest in this sabre-cutting. +With us at our home in the Caucasus we practise it from childhood--on +bundles of wattles, on water-spouts, the bodies of sheep." + +"And men's bodies," remarked Lbov. + +"And on men's bodies," repeated Agamalov with unruffled calm. "And such +strokes, too! In a twinkling they cleave a fellow from his shoulder to +the hip." + +"Biek, can you perform a test of strength like that?" + +Biek-Agamalov sighed regretfully. + +"No, alas! A sheep, or a calf; I can say I could cleave to the neck by a +single stroke, but to cut a full-grown man down to the waist is beyond +my power. To my father it would be a trifle." + +"Come, gentlemen, and let us try our strength and sabres on that +scarecrow," said Lbov, in a determined tone and with flashing eyes. +"Biek, my dear boy, come with us." + +The officers went up to the clay figure that had been erected a little +way off. Viätkin was the first to attack it. After endeavouring to +impart to his innocent, prosaic face an expression of wild-beast +ferocity, he struck the clay man with all his might and with an +unnecessarily big flourish of his sabre. At the same time he uttered the +characteristic sound "Khryass!" which a butcher makes when he is cutting +up beef. The weapon entered about a quarter of an inch into the clay, +and Viätkin had some trouble to extricate his brave sabre. + +"Wretchedly done," exclaimed Agamalov, shaking his head. "Now, Romashov, +it's your turn." + +Romashov drew his sabre from its sheath, and adjusted his eyeglass with +a hesitating movement. He was of medium height, lean, and fairly strong +in proportion to his build, but through constitutional timidity and lack +of interest not much accustomed to handling the weapon. Even as a pupil +at the Military Academy he was a bad swordsman, and after a year and a +half's service in the regiment he had almost completely forgotten the +art. + +He raised his sabre high above his head, but stretched out, +simultaneously and instinctively, his left arm and hand. + +"Mind your hand!" shouted Agamalov. + +But it was too late then. The point of the sabre only made a slight +scratch on the clay, and Romashov, to his astonishment, who had +mis-reckoned on a strong resistance to the steel entering the clay, lost +his balance and stumbled forward, whereupon the blade of the sabre +caught his outstretched hand and tore off a portion of skin at the lower +part of his little finger, so that the blood oozed. + +"There! See what you've done!" cried Biek angrily as he dismounted from +his charger. "How can any one handle a sabre so badly? You very nearly +cut off your hand, you know. Well, that wound is a mere trifle, but +you'd better bind it up with your handkerchief. Ensign, hold my horse. +And now, gentlemen, bear this in mind. The force or effect of a stroke +is not generated either in the shoulder or the elbow, but _here_, in the +wrist." He made, as quick as lightning, a few rotary movements of his +right hand, whereupon the point of his sabre described a scintillating +circle above his head. "Now look, I put my left hand behind my back. +When the stroke itself is to be delivered it must not be done by a +violent and clumsily directed blow, but by a vigorous cut, in which the +arm and sabre are jerked slightly backwards. Do you understand? +Moreover, it is absolutely necessary that the plane of the sabre exactly +coincides with the direction of the stroke. Look, here goes!" + +Biek took two steps backwards from the manikin, to which he seemed, as +it were, to fasten himself tightly by a sharp, penetrating glance. +Suddenly the sabre flashed in the air, and a fearful stroke, delivered +with a rapidity that the eye could not follow, struck like lightning the +clay figure, the upper part of which rolled, softly but heavily, down to +the ground. The cut made by the sabre was as smooth and even as if it +had been polished. + +"The deuce, that was something like a cut!" cried the enthusiastic Lbov +in wild delight. "Biek, my dear fellow, of your charity do that over +again." + +"Yes, do, Biek," chimed in Viätkin. + +But Agamalov, who was evidently afraid of destroying the effect he had +produced, smiled as he replaced the sabre in its scabbard. He breathed +heavily, and at that moment, by his bloodthirsty, wildly staring eyes, +his hawk's nose, and set mouth, he put one in mind of a proud, cruel, +malignant bird of prey. + +"That was really nothing remarkable," he exclaimed in a tone of assumed +contempt. "At home in the Caucasus my old father, although he is over +sixty-six, could cut off a horse's head in a trice. You see, my +children, everything can be acquired by practice and perseverance. At my +home we practise on bundles of fagots tightly twisted together, or we +try to cut through a water-spout without the least splash being +noticeable. Well, Lbov, it's your turn now." + +At that very moment, however, Bobuilev, the "non-com.," rushed up to +Viätkin, with terror depicted on every feature. + +"Your Honour! The Commander of the regiment is here." + +"Attention!" cried Captain Sliva's sharp voice from the other side of +the parade-ground. The officers hastily made their way to their +respective detachments. + +A large open carriage slowly approached the avenue and stopped at the +parade-ground. Out of it stepped the Commander with great trouble and +agony amidst a loud moaning and groaning from the side of the poor +carriage. The Commander was followed by his Adjutant, Staff-Captain +Federovski, a tall, slim officer of smart appearance. + +"Good day, 7th Company," was his greeting in a careless, indistinct +voice. An ear-splitting chorus of soldiers, dispersed over the whole +extent of the ground, replied instantly: "God preserve your Excellency!" + +The officers touched their caps. + +"Proceed with the drill," ordered the Commander, as he went up to the +nearest platoon. + +Colonel Shulgovich was evidently not in a good humour. He wandered about +the platoons, growling and swearing, all the while repeatedly trying to +worry the life out of the unhappy recruits by catch-questions from the +"Military Regulations." Time after time he was heard to reel out the +most awful strings of insults and threats, and in this he displayed an +inventive power and mastery that could hardly be surpassed. The soldiers +stood before him, transfixed with terror, stiff, motionless, scarcely +daring to breathe, and, as it were, hypnotized by the incessant, +steadfast glances, as hard as marble, from those senile, colourless, +severe eyes. Colonel Shulgovich, although much troubled with fatness and +advanced in years, nevertheless still contrived to carry his huge, +imposing figure. His broad, fleshy face, with its bloated cheeks and +deeply receding forehead, was surrounded below by a thick, silvery, +pointed beard, whereby the great head came very closely to resemble an +awe-inspiring rhomboid. The eyebrows were grey, bushy, and threatening. +He always spoke in a subdued tone, but his powerful voice--to which +alone he owed his comparatively rapid promotion--was heard all the same +as far as the most distant point of the parade-ground, nay! even out on +the highroad. + +"Who are you?" asked the Colonel, suddenly halting in front of a young +soldier named Sharafutdinov, who was on sentry duty near the gymnastic +apparatus. + +"Recruit in the 6th Company, Sharafutdinov, your Excellency," the Tartar +answered in a strained and hoarse voice. + +"Fool! I mean, of course, what post are you supposed to occupy?" + +The soldier, who was frightened by his Commander's angry tone, was +silent: he could only produce one or two nervous twitchings of the +eyebrows. + +"Well?" Shulgovich raised his voice. + +"I--am--standing--on guard," the Tartar at last spluttered out, chancing +it. "I cannot--understand, your Excellency," he went on to say, but he +relapsed into silence again, and stood motionless. + +The Colonel's face assumed a dark brick colour, a shade with a touch of +blue about it, and his bushy eyebrows began to pucker in an alarming +way. Beside himself with fury, he turned round and said in a sharp +tone-- + +"Who is the youngest officer here?" + +Romashov stepped forward and touched his cap. + +"I am, Colonel." + +"Ha--Sub-lieutenant Romashov, you evidently train your men well. Stand +at attention and stretch your legs," bawled Shulgovich suddenly, his +eyes rolling. "Don't you know how to stand in the presence of your +commanding officer? Captain Sliva, I beg to inform you that your +subaltern officer has been lacking in the respect due to his chief. And +you, you miserable cur," he now turned towards the unhappy +Sharafutdinov, "tell me the name of your Commander." + +"I don't know," replied Sharafutdinov quickly, but in a firm tone in +which, nevertheless, a melancholy resignation might be detected. + +"Oh, _I_ ask you the name of your Colonel. Do you know who I am? +I--I--I!" and Shulgovich drummed with the flat of his hand several times +on his broad chest. + +"I don't know." + +The Colonel delivered himself of a string of about twenty words of +cynical abuse. "Captain Sliva, I order you at once to exhibit this son +of a sea-cook, so that all may see him, with rifle and heavy +accoutrements, and let him stand there till he rots. And as for you, +Sub-lieutenant, I know well enough that loose women and flirtation +interest you more than the service does. In waltzing and reading Paul de +Kock you're said to be an authority, but as to performing your duties, +instructing your men--that, of course, is beneath your dignity. Just +look at this creature" (he gave Sharafutdinov a sound slap on the +mouth)--"is this a Russian soldier? No, he's a brute beast, who does not +even recognize his own commanding officer. You ought to be ashamed of +yourself." + +Romashov stared speechlessly at his chief's red and rage-distorted +countenance. He felt his heart threatening to burst with shame and +indignation. Suddenly, almost unconsciously, he burst out in a hollow +voice-- + +"Colonel, this fellow is a Tartar and does not understand a word of our +language, and besides...." + +But he did not finish his sentence. Shulgovich's features had that very +instant undergone a ghastly change. His whole countenance was as white +as a corpse's, his withered cheeks were transfused with sharp, nervous +puckers, and his eyes assumed a terrible expression. + +"Wh-at!" roared he in a voice so unnatural and awe-inspiring that a +little crowd of Jew boys, who, some distance from the causeway, were +sitting on the fence on which they had swarmed, were scattered like +sparrows--"you answer back? Silence! A raw young ensign permits himself +to---- Lieutenant Federovski, enter in my day-book that I have ordered +Sub-lieutenant Romashov four days' arrest in his room for breach of +discipline. And Captain Sliva is to be severely rebuked for neglecting +to instil into his junior officers 'a true military spirit.'" + +The Adjutant saluted respectfully without any sign of fear. Captain +Sliva stood the whole time bending slightly forward, with his hand to +his cap, and quivering with emotion, though without altering a feature +of his wooden face. + +"I cannot help being surprised at you, Captain Sliva," again grunted +Shulgovich, who had now to some extent regained his self-control. "How +is it possible that you, who are one of the best officers in the +regiment, and, moreover, old in the service, can let your youngsters run +so wild? They want breaking in. It is no use to treat them like young +ladies and being afraid of hurting them." + +With these words he turned his back on the Captain, and, followed by the +Adjutant, proceeded to the carriage awaiting him. Whilst he was getting +into the carriage, and till the latter had turned round behind the +corner of the regimental school, a dull, painful silence reigned in the +parade-ground. + +"Ah! you dear old ducky," exclaimed Captain Sliva in a dry tone and with +deep contempt, when the officers had, some minutes later, separated. +"Now, gentlemen, I suppose I, too, ought to say a couple of loving words +to you. Learn to stand at attention and hold your jaw even if the sky +falls--etc. To-day I've had a wigging for you before the whole of my +company. Who saddled me with you? Who asked for your services? Not I, at +any rate. You are, for me and my company, about as necessary as a fifth +leg is to a dog. Go to the deuce, and return to your feeding-bottle." + +He finished his bitter lecture with a weary, contemptuous movement of +his hand, and dragged himself slowly away in the direction of his dark, +dirty, cheerless bachelor quarters. Romashov cast a long glance at him, +and gazing at the tall, thin figure, already bent with age, as well as +by the affront just endured, he felt a deep pity for this lonely, +embittered man whom nobody loved, who had only two interests in the +whole world--correct "dressing" of the 6th Company when marching at a +review, and the dear little schnapps bottle which was his trusty and +sole companion till bedtime. + +And whereas Romashov also had the absurd, silly habit, which is often +peculiar to young people, viz. in his introspection to think of himself +as a third party, and then weave his noble personality into a +sentimental and stilted phrase from novelettes, our soft-hearted +lieutenant now expressed his opinion of himself in the following +touching manner-- + +"And over his kindly, expressive eyes fell the shadow of grief." + + + + +II + + +The soldiers marched home to their quarters in platoon order. The square +was deserted. Romashov stood hesitating for a moment at the causeway. It +was not the first time during the year and a half he had been in the +service he had experienced that painful feeling of loneliness, of being +lost among strangers either hostile or indifferent, or that distressful +hesitation as to where one shall spend the evening. To go home or spend +the evening at the officers' mess was equally distasteful to him. At the +latter place, at that time of day, there was hardly a soul, at most a +couple of ensigns who, whilst they drank ale and smoked to excess and +indulged in as many oaths and unseemly words as possible, played +pyramids in the wretched little narrow billiard-room; in addition to all +this, the horrible smell of food pervading all the rooms. + +"I shall go down to the railway-station," said Romashov at last. "That +will be something to do." + +In the poor little town, the population of which mainly consisted of +Jews, the only decent restaurant was that at the railway-station. There +were certainly two clubs--one for officers, the other for the civilian +"big-wigs" of the community. They were both, however, in a sorry plight, +and on these grounds the railway restaurant had become the only place +where the inhabitants assembled to shake off the dust of everyday life, +and to get a drink or a game at cards. Even the ladies of the place +accompanied their male protectors there, chiefly, however, to witness +the arrival of the trains and scrutinize the passengers, which always +offered a little change in the dreary monotony of provincial life. + +Romashov liked to go down to the railway-station of an evening at the +time when the express arrived, which made its last stop before reaching +the Prussian frontier. With a curious feeling of excitement and tension, +he awaited the moment when the train flashed round a sharp curve of the +line, the locomotive's fiery, threatening eye grew rapidly in size and +intensity, and, at the next second, thundered past him a whole row of +palatial carriages. "Like a monstrously huge giant that suddenly checks +himself in the middle of a furious leap," he thought, the train came to +an abrupt stop before the platform. From the dazzling, illuminated +carriages, that resembled a fairy palace, stepped beautiful and elegant +ladies in wonderful hats, gentlemen dressed according to the latest +Paris fashion, who, in perfect French or German, greeted one another +with compliments or pointed witticisms. None of the passengers took the +slightest notice of Romashov, who saw in them a striking little sample +of that envied and unattainable world where life is a single, +uninterrupted, triumphal feast. + +After an interval of eight minutes a bell would ring, the engine would +whistle, and the _train de luxe_ would flit away into the darkness. The +station would be soon deserted after this, and the lights lowered in the +buffet and on the platform, where Romashov would remain gazing with +melancholy eyes, after the lurid gleam of the red lamp of the rear +coach, until it disappeared in the gloom like an extinguished spark. + +"I shall go to the station for a while," Romashov repeated to himself +once more, but when he cast a glance at his big, clumsy goloshes, +bespattered with clay and filth, he experienced a keen sense of shame. +All the other officers in the regiment wore the same kind of goloshes. +Then he noticed the worn buttonholes of his shabby cloak, its many +stains, and the fearfully torn lower border that almost degenerated into +a sort of fringe at the knees, and he sighed. One day in the previous +week he had, as usual, been promenading the platform, looking with +curiosity at the express train that had just arrived, when he noticed a +tall, extraordinarily handsome lady standing at the open door of a +first-class carriage. She was bare-headed, and Romashov managed to +distinguish a little, straight, piquant nose, two charming, pouting +lips, and a splendid, gleaming black head of hair which, parted in the +middle of her forehead, stole down to her coquettish little ears. Behind +her, and looking over her shoulder, stood a gigantic young man in a +light suit, with a scornful look, and moustaches after the style +affected by Kaiser Wilhelm. In fact, he bore a certain resemblance to +Wilhelm. The lady looked at Romashov, it seemed to him with an +expression of interest, and he said to himself: "The fair unknown's eyes +rested with pleasure on the young warrior's tall, well-formed figure." +But when, after walking on a few steps, he turned round to catch the +lady's eyes again, he saw that both she and her companion were looking +after him and laughing. In that moment he saw himself from outside, as +it were--his awful goloshes, his cloak, pale face, stiff, angular +figure--and experienced a feeling of shame and indignation at the +thought of the bombastic, romantic phrase he had just applied to +himself. Ah! even at this moment, when he was walking along the road in +the gloomy spring evening, he flushed at that torturing recollection. + +"No, I shall not go to the station," he whispered to himself with bitter +hopelessness. "I'll take a little stroll and then go straight home." + +It was in the beginning of April. The dusk was deepening into night. The +poplars that bordered the road, the small white houses with their +red-tiled roofs, the few wanderers one met in the street at this +hour--all grew darker, lost colour and perspective. All objects were +changed into black shadow, the lines of which, however, still showed +distinctly against the dark sky. Far away westwards, outside the town, +the sunset still gleamed fiery red. Vast dark-blue clouds melted slowly +down into a glowing crater of streaming, flaming gold, and then assumed +a blood-red hue with rays of violet and amber. But above the volcano, +like a dome of varying green, turquoise and beryl, arose the boundless +sky of a luminous spring night. + +Romashov looked steadily at this enchanting picture whilst he slowly and +laboriously dragged himself and his goloshes along the causeway. As he +always did, even from childhood, he even now indulged in fancies of a +mysterious, marvellous world that waited for and beckoned to him in the +far distance, beyond the sunset. Just there--there behind the clouds and +the horizon--is hidden a wonderfully beautiful city lighted up by the +beams of a sun invisible from here, and protected against our eyes by +heavy, inexorable, threatening clouds. There the human eye is blinded by +streets paved with gold; there, to a dazzling height, the dome-capped +towers rise above the purple-hued roofs, where the palace windows +shimmer in the sun like innumerable gems, where countless flags and +banners resplendent with colour sway in the breeze. And in this fairy +city throng bands of rejoicing people, whose whole life is nothing but +an endless, intoxicating feast, a chord of harmony and bliss vibrating +for ever and ever. In paradisaical parks and gardens, amidst fountains +and flowers, stroll godlike men and women fair as the day, who have +never yet known an unfulfilled desire, who have never yet experienced +sorrow and struggle and shame. + +Romashov suddenly called to mind the painful scene in the parade-ground, +the Commander's coarse invectives and that outrageous insult in the +presence of his comrades and subordinates. Ah! what affected him most +bitterly of all was that a person had railed at him before the soldiers +in the same rough and ruthless way as he himself, alas! had only too +often done to his subordinates. This he felt almost as a degradation, +nay, even as a debasement of his dignity as a human being. + +Then awoke within him, exactly as was the case in his early youth--alas! +in many respects he still much resembled a big child--feelings at once +revengeful, fantastic, and intoxicating. "Stuff and nonsense!" he +shouted out to himself. "All my life is before me." And, as it were, in +keeping with his thoughts, he took firmer strides, and breathed more +deeply. "To-morrow to spite them all I shall rise with the sun, stick to +my books, and force an entrance into the Military Academy. Hard work? I +can work hard if I like. I must take myself in hand, that is all. I'll +read and cram like fury, early and late, and then, some fine day, to +every one's astonishment, I shall pass a brilliant examination. And +then, of course, every one will say: 'This was nothing unexpected, we +might have foretold that long ago. Such an energetic, talented young +man!'" + +And our Romashov already saw himself in his mind's eye with a snug Staff +appointment and unlimited possibilities in the future. His name stood +engraved on the golden tablet of the Military Academy. The professors +had predicted a brilliant career for him, tried to retain him as a +lecturer at the Academy, etc. etc.--but in vain. All his tastes were for +the practical side, for troop service. He had also first to perform his +duties as company officer, and as a matter of course--yes, _as a matter +of course_--in his old regiment. He would, therefore, have to make +another appearance here--in this disgusting little out-of-the-way +hole--as a Staff officer uncommonly learned and all-accomplished, in +every respect unsurpassable, well-bred and elegant, inexorably severe to +himself, but benevolently condescending towards others, a pattern for +all, envied by all, etc. etc. He had seen at the manoeuvres in the +previous year a similar prodigy, who stood millions of miles above the +rest of mankind, and who, therefore, kept himself far apart from his +comrades at the officers' mess. Cards, dice, heavy drinking and noisy +buffoonery were not in his line; he had higher views. Besides, he had +only honoured with a short visit that miserable place, which for him was +only a stage, a step-ladder on the road to honour--and decorations. + +And Romashov pursued his fancies. The grand manoeuvres have begun, and +the battalion is busy. Colonel Shulgovich, who never managed to make out +the strategical or tactical situation, gets more and more muddled in his +orders, commands and countermands, marches his men aimlessly here and +there, and has already got two orderlies at him, bringing severe +reprimands from the Commander of the corps. "Look here, Captain," says +Shulgovich, turning to his former sub-lieutenant, "help me out of this. +We are old and good friends, you know--well, we did have a little +difference on one occasion. Now tell me what I ought to do." His face is +red with anxiety and vexation; but Romashov sits straight in the saddle, +salutes stiffly, and in a respectful but freezing tone replies: "Pardon, +Colonel. _Your_ duty is to advance your regiment in accordance with the +Commander's order; _mine_ is only to receive your instructions and to +carry them out to the best of my ability." In the same moment a third +orderly from the Commander approaches at a furious gallop. + +Romashov, the brilliant Staff officer, rises higher and higher towards +the pinnacles of power and glory. A dangerous strike has taken place at +a steel manufactory. Romashov's company is charged with the difficult +and hazardous task of restoring peace and order amongst the rioters. +Night and gloom, incendiarism, a flaming sea of fire, an innumerable, +hooting, bloodthirsty mob, a shower of stones. A stately young officer +steps in front of the company, his name is Romashov. "Brothers," cries +he, in a strong but melodious voice, "for the third and last time I +beseech you to disperse, otherwise--I shall fire." Wild shouts, derisive +laughter, whistling. A stone hits Romashov on the shoulder, but his +frank, handsome countenance maintains its unalterable calm. Slowly he +turns towards his soldiers, whose eyes scintillate with rage at the +insolent outrage that some one had dared to commit on their idolized +Captain. A few brief, energetic words of command are heard, "Line and +aim--fire!" A crashing report of rifles, immediately followed by a roar +of rage and despair from the crowd. A few score dead and wounded lie +where they have fallen; the rest flee in disorder or beg for mercy and +are taken prisoners. The riot is quelled, and Romashov awaits a gracious +token of the Tsar's gratitude and favour, together with a special reward +for the heroism he displayed. + +Then comes the longed-for war. Nay, even before the war he is sent by +the War Office to Germany as a spy on the enemy's military power near +the frontier. Perfectly familiar with the German language, he enters +upon his hazardous career. How delightful is such an adventure to a +brave and patriotic man! Absolutely alone, with a German passport in his +pocket and a street organ on his back, he wanders from town to town, +from village to village, grinds out tunes, collects coppers, plays the +part of a simple lout, and meanwhile obtains, in all secrecy, plans and +sketches of fortresses, stores, barracks, camps, etc., etc. Foes and +perils lie in wait for him every minute. His own Government has left him +helpless and unprotected. He is virtually an outlaw. If he succeeds in +his purpose, honours and rewards of all kinds await him. Should he be +unmasked, he will be condemned straight off to be shot or hanged. He +sees himself standing in the dark and gloomy trench, confronted by his +executioners. Out of compassion they fasten a white cloth before his +eyes; but he tears it away and throws it to the ground with the proud +words, "Do you not think an officer can face death?" An old Colonel +replies, in a quivering voice: "Listen, my young friend. I have a son of +the same age as you. I will spare you. Tell us your name--tell us, at +any rate, your nationality, and the death sentence will be commuted to +imprisonment." "I thank you, Colonel; but it is useless. Do your duty." +Then he turns to the soldiers, and says to them in a firm voice in +German: "Comrades, there is only one favour I would crave: spare my +face, aim at my heart." The officer in command, deeply moved, raises his +white pocket-handkerchief--a crashing report--and Romashov's story is +ended. + +This picture made such a lively impression on his imagination that +Romashov, who was already very excited and striding along the road, +suddenly stopped short, trembling all over. His heart beat violently, +and he clenched his hands convulsively. He gained, however, command over +himself immediately, and smiling compassionately at himself, he +continued on his way in the darkness. + +But it was not long before he began to conjure up fresh pictures in his +imagination. The cruel war with Prussia and Austria, long expected and +prepared for, had come. An enormous battlefield, corpses everywhere, +havoc, annihilation, blood, and death. It was the chief battle, on the +issue of which the whole war depended. The decisive moment had arrived. +The last reserves had been brought up, and one was waiting anxiously for +the Russian flanking column to arrive in time to attack the enemy in the +rear. At any cost the enemy's frantic attack must be met without +flinching. The most important and threatened position on the field was +occupied by the Kerenski regiment, which was being decimated by the +concentrated fire of the enemy. The soldiers fight like lions without +yielding an inch, although the whole line is being mowed down by a +murderous fire of shells. Every one feels that he is passing through an +historical moment. A few more seconds of heroic endurance and victory +will be snatched out of the enemy's hands. But Colonel Shulgovich +wavers. He is a brave man--that must be admitted--but the perils of a +fight like this are too much for his nerves. He turns pale and trembles. +The next moment he signals to the bugler to sound the retreat, and the +latter has already put the bugle to his lips, when, that very moment, +Colonel Romashov, chief of the Staff, comes dashing from behind the hill +on his foaming Arab steed. "Colonel, we dare not retreat. The fate of +Russia will be decided here." Shulgovich begins blustering. "Colonel +Romashov, it is I who am in command and must answer to God and the Tsar. +The regiment must retire--blow the bugle." But Romashov snatches the +bugle from the bugler's hand and hurls it to the ground. "Forward, my +children!" he shouts; "the eyes of your Emperor and your +fellow-countrymen are fixed on you." "Hurrah!" With a deafening shout of +joy the soldiers, led by Romashov, rush at the foe. Everything +disappears in a chasm of fire and smoke. The enemy wavers, and soon his +lines are broken; but behind him gleam the Russian bayonets. "The +victory is ours! Hurrah, comrades"---- + +Romashov, who no longer walked but ran, gesticulating wildly, at last +stopped and gradually became himself again. It seemed to him as if some +one with fingers cold as ice had suddenly passed them over his back, +arms, and legs, his hair bristled, and his strong excitement had brought +tears to his eyes. He had no notion how he suddenly found himself near +his quarters, and, as he recovered from his mad fancies, he gazed with +astonishment at the street door he knew so well, at the neglected +fruit-garden within which stood the little whitewashed wing where he +lodged. + +"How does all this nonsense get into my head?" said he, with a sense of +shame and a shrug of his shoulders in self-contempt. + + + + +III + + +When Romashov reached his room he threw himself, just as he was, with +cap and sabre, on his bed, and for a long time he lay there motionless, +staring up at the ceiling. His head burned, his back ached; and he +suffered from a vacuum within him as profound as if his mind was +incapable of harbouring a feeling, a memory, or a thought. He felt +neither irritation nor sadness, but he was sensible of a suffocating +weight on his heart, of darkness and indifference. + +The shades of a balmy April night fell. He heard his servant quietly +occupied with some metal object in the hall. + +"Curiously enough," said he to himself, "I have read somewhere or other +that one cannot live a single second without thinking. But here I lie +and think about absolutely nothing. Isn't that so? Perhaps it is just +this: I am thinking that _I am thinking about nothing_. It even seems as +if a tiny wheel in my brain is in motion. And see here a new reflection, +an objective introspection--I am also thinking of----" + +He lay so long and tortured himself with such forced mental images that +returned in an eternal circle that it finally became physically +repulsive to him. It was just as if a great loathsome spider, from which +he could not extricate himself, was softly groping about _under his +brain_. At last he raised his head from the pillows and called out-- + +"Hainán." + +At that very moment was heard a tremendous crash of something falling +and rolling on the floor. It was probably the funnel belonging to the +samovar which had dropped. The door was opened hastily and shut again +with a loud bang. The servant burst into the room, making as much noise +in opening and shutting the door as if we were running away from some +one. + +"It is I, your Honour," shrieked Hainán in a fear-stricken voice. + +"Has there been any message from Lieutenant Nikoläiev?" + +"No, your Excellency," replied Hainán in the same shrieking tone. + +Between the officer and his servant there existed a certain simple, +sincere, affectionately familiar relationship. When the question only +required the usual stereotyped, official answer, e.g. "Yes, your +Excellency," "No, your Excellency," etc., then Hainán shrieked the words +in the same wooden, soulless, and unnatural way as soldiers always do in +the case of their officers, and which, from their first days in the +recruit school, becomes ineradicably ingrained in them as long as they +live. + +Hainán was by birth a Circassian, and by religion an idolater. This +latter circumstance gave great satisfaction to Romashov, because among +the young officers of the regiment the silly and boyish custom prevailed +of training their respective servants to be something unique, or of +teaching them certain semi-idiotic answers and phrases. + +For instance, when his friends paid him a visit, Viätkin used to say to +his orderly, a Moldavian, "Busioskul, have we any champagne in the +cellar?" And Busioskul would answer with imperturbable gravity, "No, +your Excellency. Last night you were pleased to drink up the last +dozen." Another officer, Sub-lieutenant Epifanov, amused himself by +putting to his servant learned and difficult questions which he himself +could hardly answer. "Listen, my friend, what are your views on the +restoration of the monarchy in France at the present day?" The servant +answers, "Your Honour, it will, I think, succeed." Lieutenant Bobetinski +had written down a whole catechism for his flunkey, and the latter +trained genius replied frankly and unhesitatingly to the most absurd +questions, e.g. "Why is this important for the third?" Answer--"For the +third this is not important." "What is Holy Church's opinion about it?" +Answer--"Holy Church has no opinion about it." The same servant would +declaim, with the quaintest, semi-tragical gestures, Pinen's rôle in +"Boris-Gudunov." It was also usual and much appreciated to make him +express himself in French: "Bong shure, musseur. Bon nuite, moussier. +Vulley vous du tay, musseur?" etc. etc., in that style. All these +follies naturally arose from the dullness of that little garrison town, +and the narrowness of a life from which all interests were excluded +except those belonging to the service. + +Romashov often talked to Hainán about his gods--about whom the +Circassian had only dim and meagre ideas; but it amused him greatly to +make Hainán tell the story of how he took the oath of allegiance to the +Tsar and Russia--a story well worth hearing now and then. At that time +the oath of allegiance was, for the Orthodox, administered by a priest +of the Greek Church; for Catholics, by the _ksends_[3]; for +Protestants, when a Lutheran pastor was not available, by Staff-Captain +Ditz; and for Mohammedans, by Lieutenant Biek-Agamalov. For Hainán and +two of his fellow-countrymen a particular and highly original form had +been authorized. The three soldiers were ordered to march in turn up to +the Adjutant of the regiment, and from the point of the sabre held +towards them they were required to bite off, with deep reverence, a +piece of bread that had been dipped in salt. Under no circumstances was +the bread to be touched by their hands. The symbolism of this curious +ceremony was as follows: When the Circassian had eaten his lord's--the +Tsar's--bread and salt in this peculiar way he was ruthlessly condemned +to die by the sword if he ever failed in loyalty and obedience. Hainán +was evidently very proud of having thus taken his oath of allegiance to +the Tsar, and he never got tired of relating the circumstance; but as +every time he told his story he adorned it with fresh inventions and +absurdities, it became at last a veritable Münchausen affair, which was +always received with Homeric laughter by Romashov and his guests. + +Hainán now thought that his master would start his usual questions about +gods and Adjutants, and stood ready to begin with a cunning smile on his +face, when Romashov said-- + +"That will do; you can go." + +"Shall I not lay out your Honour's new uniform?" asked the +ever-attentive Hainán. + +Romashov was silent and pondered. First he would say "Yes," then "No," +and again "Yes." At last, after a long, deep sigh, uttered in the +descending scale, he replied in a tone of resignation-- + +"No, Hainán, never mind about that--get the samovar ready and then run +off to the mess for my supper." + +"I will stay away to-day," whispered he to himself. "It doesn't do to +bore people to death by calling on them like that every day. And, +besides, it is plain I am not a man people long for." + +His resolution to stay at home that evening seemed fixed enough, and yet +an inner voice told him that even to-day, as on most other days during +the past three months, he would go to the Nikoläievs'. Every time he +bade these friends of his good-bye at midnight, he had, with shame and +indignation at his own weakness and lack of character, sworn to himself +on his honour that he would not pay another call there for two or three +weeks. Nay, he had even made up his mind to give up altogether these +uncalled-for visits. And all the while he was on his way home, whilst he +was undressing, ah! even up to the moment he fell asleep, he believed it +would be an easy matter for him to keep his resolution. The night went +by, the morning dawned, and the day dragged on slowly and unwillingly, +evening came, and once more an irresistible force drew him to this +handsome and elegant abode, with its warm, well-lighted, comfortable +rooms, where peace, harmony, cheerful and confidential conversation, +and, above all, the delightful enchantment of feminine beauty awaited +him. + +Romashov sat on the edge of his bed. It was already dark, but he could, +nevertheless, easily discern the various objects in his room. Oh, how he +loathed day by day his mean, gloomy dwelling, with its trumpery, +tasteless furniture! His lamp, with its ugly shade that resembled a +night-cap, on the inconvenient, rickety writing-table, looked haughtily +down on the nerve-torturing alarm-clock and the dirty, vulgar inkstand +that had the shape of a badly modelled pug-dog. Over his head something +intended to represent a wall decoration--a piece of felt on which had +been embroidered a terrible tiger and a still more terrible Arab riding +on horseback, armed with a spear. In one corner a tumbledown bookstand, +in the other the fantastic silhouette of a hideous violoncello case. +Over the only window the room could boast a curtain of plaited straw +rolled up into a tube. Behind the door a clothes-stand concealed by a +sheet that had been white in prehistoric times. Every unmarried +subaltern officer had the same articles about him, with the exception of +the violoncello which Romashov had borrowed from the band attached to +the regiment--in which it was completely unnecessary--with the intention +of developing on it his musical talent. But as soon as he had tried in +vain to teach himself the C major scale, he tired of the thing +altogether, and the 'cello had now stood for more than a year, dusty and +forgotten, in its dark corner. + +More than a year ago Romashov, who had just left the military college, +had taken both pride and joy in furnishing his modest lodgings. To have +a room of his own, his own things, to choose and buy household furniture +according to his own liking, to arrange everything according to his own +consummate taste--all that highly flattered the _amour propre_ of that +young man of two-and-twenty. It seemed only yesterday that he sat on the +school form, or marched in rank and file with his comrades off to the +general mess-room to eat, at the word of command, his frugal breakfast. +To-day he was his own master. And how many hopes and plans sprang into +his brain in the course of those never-to-be-forgotten days when he +furnished and "adorned" his new home! What a severe programme he +composed for his future! The first two years were to be devoted chiefly +to a thorough study of classical literature, French and German, and also +music. After that, a serious preparation for entering the Staff College +was to follow. It was necessary to study sociology and society life, and +to be abreast of modern science and literature. Romashov therefore felt +himself bound at least to subscribe to a newspaper and to take in a +popular monthly magazine. The bookstand was adorned with Wundt's +_Psychology_, Lewes's _Physiology_, and Smiles's _Self-Help_, etc., etc. + +But for nine long months have the books lain undisturbed on their +shelves, forgotten by Hainán, whose business it is to dust them. Heaps +of newspapers, not even stripped of their wrappers, lie cast in a pile +beneath the writing-table, and the æsthetic magazine to which we just +referred has ceased to reach Romashov on account of repeated +"irregularities" with regard to the half-yearly payment. Sub-Lieutenant +Romashov drinks a good deal of vodka at mess; he has a tedious and +loathsome liaison with a married woman belonging to the regiment, whose +consumptive and jealous husband he deceives in strict accordance with +all the rules of art; he plays _schtoss_,[4] and more and more +frequently comes into unpleasant collisions both in the service and also +in the circles of his friends and acquaintances. + +"Pardon me, your Honour," shouted his servant, entering the room +noisily. Then he added in a friendly, simple, good-natured tone: "I +forgot to mention that a letter has come from Mrs. Peterson. The +orderly who brought it is waiting for an answer." + +Romashov frowned, took the letter, tore open a long, slender, +rose-coloured envelope, in a corner of which fluttered a dove with a +letter in its beak. + +"Light the lamp, Hainán," said he to his servant. + + MY DEAR DARLING IRRESISTIBLE LITTLE GEORGI (read Romashov in the + sloping, crooked lines he knew so well),--For a whole week you have + not been to see me, and yesterday I was so miserable without you + that I lay and wept the whole night. Remember that if you fool me + or deceive me I shall not survive it. One single drop of poison and + I shall be freed from my tortures for ever; but, as for you, + conscience shall gnaw you for ever and ever. You must--must come to + me to-night at half-past seven. _He_ is not at home, he is + somewhere--on tactical duty or whatever it is called. Do come! I + kiss you a thousand thousand times. + +Yours always, +RAISA. + + P.S.-- + + Have you forgotten the river fast rushing, + Under the willow-boughs wending its way, + Kisses you gave me, dear, burning and crushing, + When in your strong arms I tremblingly lay? + + P.SS.--You must absolutely attend the soirée next Saturday at the + officers' mess. I will give you the third quadrille. You + understand. + +A long way down on the fourth page lay written-- + + I have kissed + here. + +This delightful epistle wafted the familiar perfume of Persian lilac, +and drops of that essence had, here and there, left yellow stains behind +them on the letter, in which the characters had run apart in different +directions. This stale scent, combined with the tasteless, absurdly +sentimental tone throughout this letter from a little, immoral, +red-haired woman, excited in Romashov an intolerable feeling of disgust. +With a sort of grim delight he first tore the letter into two parts, +laid them carefully together, tore them up again, laid the bits of paper +once more together, and tore them again into little bits till his +fingers got numb, and then, with clenched teeth and a broad, cynical +grin, threw the fragments under his writing-table. At the same time, +according to his old habit, he had time to think of himself in the third +person-- + +"And he burst out into a bitter, contemptuous laugh." + +A moment later he realized that he would have to go that evening to the +Nikoläievs'. "But this is the last time." After he had tried to deceive +himself by these words, he felt for once happy and calm. + +"Hainán, my clothes." + +He made his toilet hastily and impatiently, put on his elegant new +tunic, and sprinkled a few drops of eau-de-Cologne on a clean +handkerchief; but when he was dressed, and ready to go, he was stopped +suddenly by Hainán. + +"Your Honour," said the Circassian, in an unusually meek and +supplicating tone, as he began to execute a most curious sort of dance +before his master. Whilst he was performing a kind of "march on the +spot" he lifted his knees right up, one after the other, rocking his +shoulders, nodding his head, and making a series of convulsive movements +in the air with his arms and fingers. Hainán was in the habit of giving +vent to his excited feelings by curious gestures of that sort. + +"What do you want now?" + +"Your Honour," stammered Hainán, "I want to ask you something; please +give me the white gentleman." + +"The white gentleman? What white gentleman?" + +"The one you ordered me to throw away--the one standing in that corner." + +Hainán pointed with his fingers to the stove-corner, where a bust of +Pushkin was standing on the floor. This bust, which Romashov had +obtained from a wandering pedlar, really did not represent the famous +poet, but merely reproduced the forbidding features of an old Jew +broker. Badly modelled, so covered with dust and fly dirt as to be +unrecognizable, the stone image aroused Romashov's aversion to such an +extent that he had at last made up his mind to order Hainán to throw it +into the yard. + +"What do you want with it?" asked Romashov, laughing. "But take it by +all means, take it, I am only too pleased. I don't want it, only I +should like to know what you are going to do with it." + +Hainán smiled and changed from one foot to the other. + +"Well, take him, then; I wish you joy of it. By the way, do you know who +it is?" + +Hainán smiled in an embarrassed way, and infused still more energy into +his caperings. + +"No--don't know." Hainán rubbed his lips with his coat sleeve. + +"So you don't know. Well, listen. This is Pushkin--Alexander Sergievich +Pushkin. Did you understand me? Now repeat--'Alexander Sergievich----'" + +"Besiäev," repeated Hainán in a determined tone. + +"Besiäev? Well, call him Besiäev if you like. Now I am off. Should any +message come from Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, say I'm not at home, and you +don't know where I have gone. Do you understand? But if any one wants me +in the way of business connected with the regiment, run down at once for +me at Lieutenant Nikoläiev's. You may fetch my supper from the mess and +eat it yourself. Good-bye, old fellow." + +Romashov gave his servant a friendly smack on his shoulder, which was +answered by a broad, happy, familiar smile. + + + + +IV + + +When Romashov reached the yard it was quite dark. He stumbled like a +blind man into the street, his huge goloshes sank deep into the thick, +stiff mud, and every step he took was accompanied by a smacking noise. +Now and again one golosh stuck so fast in the mud of the road that it +remained there, and he had all the difficulty in the world, whilst +balancing himself wildly on his other foot, to recover his treasure. + +The little town seemed to him to be absolutely dead. Not a sound was +heard, even the dogs were silent. Here and there a gleam of light +streamed from the small, low-pitched, white house, against which the +window-sills sharply depicted their shapes in the yellowish-brown mire. +From the wet and sticky palings along which Romashov slowly worked his +way, from the raw, moist bark of the poplars, from the dirty road +itself, there arose a strong, refreshing scent of spring, which aroused +a certain unconscious sense of joy and comfort. Nay, even with the +tormenting gale which swept violently through the streets seemed mingled +a youthful, reawakened desire of life, and the gusts of wind chased one +another like boisterous and sportive children in a "merry-go-round." + +When Romashov reached the house where the Nikoläievs dwelt, he stopped, +despondent and perplexed. The close, cinnamon-coloured curtains were +let down, but behind them one could, nevertheless, distinguish the +clear, even glow of a lamp. On one side the curtain curved inwards and +formed a long, small chink against the window-sill. Romashov pressed his +face cautiously against the window, and hardly dared to breathe for fear +of betraying his presence. + +He could distinguish Alexandra Petrovna's head and shoulders. She was +sitting in a stooping attitude on that green rep divan that he knew so +well. From her bowed head and slight movements he concluded that she was +occupied with some needlework. Suddenly she straightened herself up, +raised her head, and drew a long breath. Her lips moved. + +"What is she saying?" thought Romashov. "And look! now she's smiling. +How strange to see through a window a person talking, and not to be able +to catch a word of what she says." + +The smile, however, suddenly disappeared from Alexandra Petrovna's face; +her forehead puckered, and her lips moved rapidly and vehemently. +Directly afterwards she smiled again, but wickedly and maliciously, and +with her head made a slow gesture of disapproval. + +"Perhaps they are talking about me," thought Romashov, not without a +certain disagreeable anxiety; but he knew how something pure, chaste, +agreeably soothing and benevolent beamed on him from this young woman +who, at that moment, made the same impression on him as a charming +canvas, the lovely picture of which reminded him of happy, innocent days +of long ago. "Shurochka," whispered Romashov tenderly. + +At that moment Alexandra Petrovna lifted her face from her work and cast +a rapid, searching, despondent glance at the window. Romashov thought +she was looking him straight in the face. It felt as if a cold hand had +seized his heart, and in his fright he hid himself behind a projection +of the wall. Again he was irresolute and ill at ease, and he was just +about to return home, when, by a violent effort of the will, he overcame +his pusillanimity and walked through a little back-door into the +kitchen. + +The Nikoläievs' servant relieved him of his muddy goloshes, and wiped +down his boots with a kitchen rag. When Romashov pulled out his +pocket-handkerchief to remove the mist from his eyeglass he heard +Alexandra Petrovna's musical voice from the drawing-room. + +"Stepan, have they brought the orders of the day yet?" + +"She said that with an object," thought Romashov to himself. "She knows +well enough that I'm in the habit of coming about this time." + +"No, it is I, Alexandra Petrovna," he answered aloud, but in an +uncertain voice, through the open drawing-room door. + +"Oh, it's you, Romashov. Well, come in, come in. What are you doing at +the side entrance? Volodya, Romashov is here." + +Romashov stepped in, made an awkward bow, and began, so as to hide his +embarrassment, to wipe his hands with his handkerchief. + +"I am afraid I bore you, Alexandra Petrovna." + +He tried to say this in an easy and jocose tone, but the words came out +awkwardly, and as it seemed to him, with a forced ring about them. + +"What nonsense you talk!" exclaimed Alexandra Petrovna. "Sit down, +please, and let us have some tea." + +Looking him straight in the face with her clear, piercing eyes, she +squeezed as usual his cold fingers with her little soft, warm hand. + +Nikoläiev sat with his back to them at the table that was almost hidden +by piles of books, drawings, and maps. Before the year was out he had to +make another attempt to get admitted to the Staff College, and for many +months he had been preparing with unremitting industry for this stiff +examination in which he had already twice failed. Staring hard at the +open book before him, he stretched his arm over his shoulder to Romashov +without turning round, and said, in a calm, husky voice-- + +"How do you do, Yuri[5] Alexievich? Is there any news? Shurochka, give +him some tea. Excuse me, but I am, as you see, hard at work." + +"What a fool I am!" cried poor Romashov to himself. "What business had I +here?" Then he added out loud: "Bad news. There are ugly reports +circulating at mess with regard to Lieutenant-Colonel Liech. He is said +to have been as tight as a drum. The resentment in the regiment is +widespread, and a very searching inquiry is demanded. Epifanov has been +arrested." + +"Oh!" remarked Nikoläiev in an absent tone. "But excuse my interruption. +You don't say so!" + +"I, too, have been rewarded with four days. But that is stale news." + +Romashov thought at that moment that his voice sounded peculiar and +unnatural, as if he were being throttled. "What a wretched creature I am +in their eyes!" thought he, but in the next moment consoled himself by +the help of that forced special pleading to which weak and timid persons +usually have recourse in similar predicaments. "Such you always are; +something goes wrong; you feel confused, embarrassed, and at once you +fondly imagine that others notice it, though only you yourself can be +clearly conscious of it," etc., etc. + +He sat down on a chair near Shurochka, whose quick crochet needle was in +full swing again. She never sat idle, and all the table-covers, +lamp-shades, and lace curtains were the product of her busy fingers. +Romashov cautiously took up the long crochet threads hanging from the +ball, and said-- + +"What do you call this sort of work?" + +"Guipure. This is the tenth time you have asked me that." + +Shurochka glanced quickly at him, and then let her eyes fall on her +work; but before long she looked up again and laughed. + +"Now then, now then, Yuri Alexievich, don't sit there pouting. +'Straighten your back!' and 'Head up!' Isn't that how you give your +commands?" + +But Romashov only sighed and looked out of the corner of his eye at +Nikoläiev's brawny neck, the whiteness of which was thrown into strong +relief by the grey collar of his old coat. + +"By Jove! Vladimir Yefimovich is a lucky dog. Next summer he's going to +St. Petersburg, and will rise to the heights of the Academy." + +"Oh, that remains to be seen," remarked Shurochka, somewhat tartly, +looking in her husband's direction. "He has twice been plucked at his +examination, and with rather poor credit to himself has had to return to +his regiment. This will be his last chance." + +Nikoläiev turned round suddenly; his handsome, soldierly, moustached +face flushed deeply, and his big dark eyes glittered with rage. + +"Don't talk rubbish, Shurochka. When I say I shall pass my examination, +I shall pass it, and that's enough about it." He struck the side of his +outstretched hand violently on the table. "You are always croaking. I +said I should--" + +"Yes, '_I said I should_,'" his wife repeated after him, whilst she +struck her knee with her little brown hand. "But it would be far better +if you could answer the following question: 'What are the requisites for +a good line of battle?' Perhaps you don't know" (she turned with a +roguish glance towards Romashov) "that I am considerably better up in +tactics than he. Well, Volodya--Staff-General that is to be--answer the +question now." + +"Look here, Shurochka, stop it," growled Nikoläiev in a bad temper. But +suddenly he turned round again on his chair towards his wife, and in his +wide-open, handsome, but rather stupid eyes might be read an amusing +helplessness, nay, even a certain terror. + +"Wait a bit, my little woman, and I will try to remember. 'Good fighting +order'? A good fighting order _must_ be arranged so that one does not +expose oneself too much to the enemy's fire; that one can easily issue +orders, that--that--wait a minute." + +"That waiting will be costly work for you in the future, I think," said +Shurochka, interrupting him, in a serious tone. Then, with head down and +her body rocking, she began, like a regular schoolgirl, to rattle off +the following lesson without stumbling over a single word-- + +"'The requisites of "good fighting order" are simplicity, mobility, +flexibility, and the ability to accommodate itself to the ground. It +ought to be easy to be inspected and led. It must, as far as possible, +be out of reach of the enemy's fire, easy to pass from one formation to +another, and able to be quickly changed from fighting to marching +order.' Done!" + +She opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and, as she turned her lively, +smiling countenance to Romashov, said-- + +"Was that all right?" + +"What a memory!" exclaimed Nikoläiev enviously, as he once more plunged +into his books. + +"We study together like two comrades," explained Shurochka. "I could +pass this examination at any time. The main thing"--she made an +energetic motion in the air with her crochet needle--"the main thing is +to work systematically or according to a fixed plan. Our system is +entirely my own invention, and I say so with pride. Every day we go +through a certain amount of mathematics and the science of war--I may +remark, by the way, that artillery is not my _forte_; the formulæ of +projectiles are to me specially distasteful--besides a bit out of the +Drill and Army Regulations Book. Moreover, every other day we study +languages, and on the days we do not study the latter we study history +and geography." + +"And Russian too?" asked Romashov politely. + +"Russian, do you say? Yes, that does not give us much trouble; we have +already mastered Groth's _Orthography_, and so far as the essays are +concerned, year after year they are after the eternal stereotyped +pattern: _Para pacem, para bellum_; characteristics of Onyägin and his +epoch, etc., etc." + +Suddenly she became silent, and snatched by a quick movement the +distracting crochet needle from Romashov's fingers. She evidently wanted +to monopolize the whole of his attention to what she now intended to +say. After this she began to speak with passionate earnestness of what +was at present the goal of all her thoughts and aims. + +"Romochka, please, try to understand me. I cannot--cannot stand this any +longer. To remain here is to deteriorate. To become a 'lady of the +regiment,' to attend your rowdy _soirées_, to talk scandal and intrigue, +to get into tempers every day, and wear out one's nerves over the +housekeeping, money and carriage bills, to serve in turn, according to +precedency, on ladies' committees and benevolent associations, to play +whist, to--no, enough of this. You say that our home is comfortable and +charming. But just examine this _bourgeois_ happiness. These eternal +embroideries and laces; these dreadful clothes which I have altered and +modernized God knows how often; this vulgar, 'loud'-coloured sofa rug +composed of rags from every spot on earth--all this has been hateful and +intolerable to me. Don't you understand, my dear Romochka, that it is +society--real society--that I want, with brilliant drawing-rooms, witty +conversation, music, flirtation, homage. As you are well aware, our good +Volodya is not one to set the Thames on fire, but he is a brave, +honourable, and industrious fellow. If he can only gain admission to the +Staff College I swear to procure him a brilliant career. I am a good +linguist; I can hold my own in any society whatever; I possess--I don't +know how to express it--a certain flexibility of mind or spirit that +helps me to hold my own, to adapt myself everywhere. Finally, Romochka, +look at me, gaze at me carefully. Am I, as a human being, so +uninteresting? Am I, as a woman, so devoid of all charms that I deserve +to be doomed to stay and be soured in this hateful place, in this awful +hole which has no place on the map?" + +She suddenly covered her face with her handkerchief, and burst into +tears of self-pity and wounded pride. + +Nikoläiev sprang from his chair and hastened, troubled and distracted, +to his wife; but Shurochka had already succeeded in regaining her +self-control and took her handkerchief away from her face. There were no +tears in her eyes now, but the glint of wrath and passion had not yet +died out of them. + +"It is all right, Volodya. Dear, it is nothing." She pushed him +nervously away. Immediately afterwards she turned with a little laugh to +Romashov, and whilst she was again snatching the thread from him, she +said to him coquettishly: "Answer me candidly, you clumsy thing, am I +pretty or not? Remember, though, it is the height of impoliteness not to +pay a woman the compliment she wants." + +"Shurochka, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" exclaimed Nikoläiev +reprovingly, from his seat at the writing-table. + +Romashov smiled with a martyr's air of resignation. Suddenly he replied, +in a melancholy and quavering voice-- + +"You are very beautiful." + +Shurochka looked at him roguishly from her half-closed eyes, and a +turbulent curl got loose and fell over her forehead. + +"Romochka, how funny you are!" she twittered in a rather thin, girlish +voice. The sub-lieutenant blushed and thought according to his wont-- + +"And his heart was cruelly lacerated." + +Nobody said a word. Shurochka went on diligently crocheting. Vladimir +Yefimovich, who was bravely struggling with a German translation, now +and then mumbled out some German words. One heard the flame softly +sputtering and fizzing in the lamp, which displayed a great yellow silk +shade in the form of a tent. Romochka had again managed to possess +himself of the crochet-cotton, which, almost without thinking about it, +he softly and caressingly drew through the young woman's fingers, and it +afforded him a delightful pleasure to feel how Shurochka unconsciously +resisted his mischievous little pulls. It seemed to him as if +mysterious, magnetic currents, now and again, rushed backwards and +forwards through the delicate white threads. + +Whilst he was steadily gazing at her bent head, he whispered to himself, +without moving his lips, as if he were carrying on a tender and +impassioned conversation-- + +"How boldly you said to me, 'Am I pretty?' Ah, you are most beautiful! +Here I sit looking at you. What happiness! Now listen. I am going to +tell you how you look--how lovely you are. But listen carefully. Thy +face is as dark as the night, yet pale. It is a face full of passion. +Thy lips are red and warm and good to kiss, and thine eyes surrounded by +a light yellowish shadow. When thy glance is directed straight before +thee, the white of thine eyes acquires a bluish shade, and amidst it all +there beams on me a great dark blue mysteriously gleaming pupil. A +brunette thou art not; but thou recallest something of the gipsy. But +thy hair is silky and soft, and braided at the back in a knot so neat +and simple that one finds a difficulty in refraining from stroking it. +You little ethereal creature, I could lift you like a little child in my +arms; but you are supple and strong, your bosom is as firm as a young +girl's, and in all thy being there is something quick, passionate, +compelling. A good way down on your left ear sits a charming little +birthmark that is like the hardly distinguishable scar after a ring has +been removed. What charm----" + +"Have you read in the newspapers about the duel between two officers?" +asked Shurochka suddenly. + +Romashov started as he awoke from his dreams, but he found it hard to +remove his gaze from her. + +"No, I've not read about it, but I have heard talk of it. What about +it?" + +"As usual, of course, you read nothing. Truly, Yuri Alexeitch, you are +deteriorating. In my opinion the proceedings were ridiculous. I quite +understand that duels between officers are as necessary as they are +proper." + +Shurochka pressed her crochet to her bosom with a gesture of conviction. + +"But why all this unnecessary and stupid cruelty? Just listen. A +lieutenant had insulted another officer. The insult was gross, and the +Court of Honour considered a duel necessary. Now, there would have been +nothing to say about it, unless the conditions themselves of the duel +had been so fixed that the latter resembled an ordinary execution: +fifteen paces distance, and the fight to last till one of the duellists +was _hors de combat_. This is only on a par with ordinary slaughter, is +it not? But hear what followed. On the duelling-ground stood all the +officers of the regiment, many of them with ladies; nay, they had even +put a photographer behind the bushes! How disgusting! The unfortunate +sub-lieutenant or ensign--as Volodya usually says--a man of your +youthful age, moreover the party insulted, and not the one who offered +the insult--received, after the third shot, a fearful wound in the +stomach, and died some hours afterwards in great torture. By his +deathbed stood his aged mother and sister, who kept house for him. Now +tell me why a duel should be turned into such a disgusting spectacle. +Of course the immediate consequence" (Shurochka almost shrieked these +words) "was that all those sentimental opponents of duelling--eugh, how +I despise these 'liberal' weaklings and poltroons!--at once began making +a noise and fuss about 'barbarism,' 'fratricide,' how 'duels are a +disgrace to our times,' and more nonsense of that sort." + +"Good God! I could never believe that you were so bloodthirsty, +Alexandra Petrovna," exclaimed Romashov, interrupting her. + +"I am by no means bloodthirsty," replied Shurochka, sharply. "On the +contrary, I am very tender-hearted. If a beetle crawls on to my neck I +remove it with the greatest caution so as not to inflict any hurt on +it--but try and understand me, Romashov. This is my simple process of +reasoning: 'Why have we officers?' Answer: 'For the sake of war.' 'What +are the most necessary qualities of an officer in time of war?' Answer: +'Courage and a contempt of death.' 'How are these qualities best +acquired in time of peace?' Answer: 'By means of duels.' How can that be +proved? Duels are not required to be obligatory in the French Army, for +a sense of honour is innate in the French officer; he knows what respect +is due to himself and to others. Neither is duelling obligatory in the +German Army, with its highly developed and inflexible discipline. But +with us--us, as long as among our officers are to be found notorious +card-sharpers such as, for instance, Artschakovski; or hopeless sots, as +our own Nasanski, when, in the officers' mess or on duty, violent scenes +are of almost daily occurrence--then, such being the case, duels are +both necessary and salutary. An officer must be a pattern of +correctness; he is bound to weigh every word he utters. And, moreover, +this delicate squeamishness, the fear of a shot! Your vocation is to +risk your life--which is precisely the point." + +All at once she brought her long speech to a close, and with redoubled +energy resumed her work. + +"Shurochka, what is 'rival' in German?" asked Nikoläiev, lifting his +head from the book. + +"Rival?" Shurochka stuck her crochet-needle in her soft locks. "Read out +the whole sentence." + +"It runs--wait--directly--directly--ah! it runs: 'Our rival abroad.'" + +"_Unser ausländischer Nebenbuhler_" translated Shurochka straight off. + +"_Unser_," repeated Romashov in a whisper as he gazed dreamily at the +flame of the lamp. "When she is moved," thought he, "her words come like +a torrent of hail falling on a silver tray. _Unser_--what a funny word! +_Unser--unser--unser._" + +"What are you mumbling to yourself about, Romashov?" asked Alexandra +Petrovna severely. "Don't dare to sit and build castles in the air +whilst I am present." + +He smiled at her with a somewhat embarrassed air. + +"I was not building castles in the air, but repeating to myself +'_Unser--unser._' Isn't it a funny word?" + +"What rubbish you are talking! _Unser._ Why is it funny?" + +"You see" (he made a slight pause as if he really intended to think +about what he meant to say), "if one repeats the same word for long, and +at the same time concentrates on it all his faculty of thought, the word +itself suddenly loses all its meaning and becomes--how can I put it?" + +"I know, I know!" she interrupted delightedly. "But it is not easy to +do it now. When I was a child, now--how we used to love doing it!" + +"Yes--yes--it belongs to childhood--yes." + +"How well I remember it! I remember the word 'perhaps' particularly +struck me. I could sit for a long time with eyes shut, rocking my body +to and fro, whilst I was repeatedly saying over and over again, +'Perhaps, perhaps.' And suddenly I quite forgot what the word itself +meant. I tried to remember, but it was no use. I saw only a little +round, reddish blotch with two tiny tails. Are you attending?" Romashov +looked tenderly at her. + +"How wonderful that we should think the same thoughts!" he exclaimed in +a dreamy tone. "But let us return to our _unser_. Does not this word +suggest the idea of something long, thin, lanky, and having a sting--a +long, twisting insect, poisonous and repulsive?" + +"_Unser_, did you say?" Shurochka lifted up her head, blinked her eyes, +and stared obstinately at the darkest corner of the room. She was +evidently striving to improve on Romashov's fanciful ideas. + +"No, wait. _Unser_ is something green and sharp. Well, we'll suppose it +is an insect--a grasshopper, for instance--but big, disgusting, and +poisonous. But how stupid we are, Romochka!" + +"There's another thing I do sometimes, only it was much easier when I +was a child," resumed Romashov in a mysterious tone. "I used to take a +word and pronounce it slowly, extremely slowly. Every letter was drawn +out and emphasized interminably. All of a sudden I was seized by a +strangely inexpressible feeling: all--everything near me sank into an +abyss, and I alone remained, marvelling that I lived, thought, and +spoke." + +"I, too, have had a similar sensation," interrupted Shurochka gaily, +"yet not exactly the same. Sometimes I made violent efforts to hold my +breath all the time I was thinking. 'I am not breathing, and I won't +breathe again till, till'--then all at once I felt as if time was +running past me. No, time no longer existed; it was as if--oh, I can't +explain!" + +Romashov gazed into her enthusiastic eyes, and repeated in a low tone, +thrilling with happiness-- + +"No, you can't explain it. It is strange--inexplicable." + +Nikoläiev got up from the table where he had been working. His back +ached, and his legs had gone dead from long sitting in the same +uncomfortable position. The arteries of his strong, muscular body +throbbed when, with arms raised high, he stretched himself to his full +length. + +"Look here, my learned psychologists, or whatever I should call you, it +is supper-time." + +A cold collation had been laid in the comfortable little dining-room, +where, suspended from the ceiling, a china lamp with frosted glass shed +its clear light. Nikoläiev never touched spirits, but a little decanter +of schnapps had been put on the table for Romashov. Shurochka, +contorting her pretty face by a contemptuous grimace, said, in the +careless tone she so often adopted-- + +"Of course, you can't do without that poison?" + +Romashov smiled guiltily, and in his confusion the schnapps went the +wrong way, and set him coughing. + +"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" scolded his young hostess. "You can't +even drink it without choking over it. I can forgive it in your adored +Nasanski, who is a notorious drunkard, but for you, a handsome, +promising young man, not to be able to sit down to table without vodka, +it is really melancholy. But that is Nasanski's doing too!" + +Her husband, who was glancing through the regimental orders that had +just come in, suddenly called out-- + +"Just listen! 'Lieutenant Nasanski has received a month's leave from the +regiment to attend to his private affairs.' Tut, tut! What does that +mean? He has been tippling again? You, Yuri Alexievich, are said, you +know, to visit him. Is it a fact that he has begun to drink heavily?" + +Romashov looked embarrassed and lowered his gaze. + +"No, I have not observed it, but he certainly does drink a little now +and again, you know." + +"Your Nasanski is offensive to me," remarked Shurochka in a low voice, +trembling with suppressed bitterness. "If it were in my power I would +have a creature like that shot as if he were a mad dog. Such officers +are a disgrace to their regiment." + +Almost directly after supper was over, Nikoläiev, who in eating had +displayed no less energy than he had just done at his writing-table, +began to gape, and at last said quite plainly-- + +"Do you know, I think I'll just take a little nap. Or if one were to go +straight off to the Land of Nod, as they used to express it in our good +old novels----" + +"A good idea, Vladimir Yefimovich," said Romashov, interrupting him in, +as he thought, a careless, dreamy tone, but as he rose from table he +thought sadly, "They don't stand on ceremony with me here. Why on earth +do I come?" + +It seemed to him that it afforded Nikoläiev a particular pleasure to +turn him out of the house; but just as he was purposely saying good-bye +to his host first, he was already dreaming of the delightful moment +when, in taking leave of Shurochka, he would feel at the same time the +strong yet caressing pressure of a beloved one's hand. When this +longed-for moment at length arrived he found himself in such a state of +happiness that he did not hear Shurochka say to him-- + +"Don't quite forget us. You know you are always welcome. Besides, it is +far more healthy for you to spend your evenings with us than to sit +drinking with that dreadful Nasanski. Also, don't forget we stand on no +ceremony with you." + +He heard her last words as it were in a dream, but he did not realize +their meaning till he reached the street. + +"Yes, that is true indeed; they don't stand on ceremony with me," +whispered he to himself with the painful bitterness in which young and +conceited persons of his age are so prone to indulge. + + + + +V + + +Romashov was still standing on the doorstep. The night was rather warm, +but very dark. He began to grope his way cautiously with his hand on the +palings whilst waiting until his eyes got accustomed to the darkness. +Suddenly the kitchendoor of Nikoläiev's dwelling was thrown open, and a +broad stream of misty yellow light escaped. Heavy steps sounded in the +muddy street, the next moment Romashov heard Stepan's, the Nikoläievs' +servant's, angry voice-- + +"He comes here every blessed day, and the deuce knows what he comes +for." + +Another soldier, whose voice Romashov did not recognize, answered +indifferently with a lazy, long-drawn yawn-- + +"What business can it be of yours, my dear fellow? Good-night, Stepan." + +"Good-night to you, Baúlin; look in when you like." + +Romashov's hands suddenly clung to the palings. An unendurable feeling +of shame made him blush, in spite of the darkness. All his body broke +out into a perspiration, and, in his back and the soles of his feet, he +felt the sting of a thousand red-hot, pointed nails. "This chapter's +closed; even the soldiers laugh at me," thought he with indescribable +pain. Directly afterwards it flashed on his mind that that very evening, +in many expressions used, in the tones of the replies, in glances +exchanged between man and wife, he had seen a number of trifles that he +had hitherto not noticed, but which he now thought testified only to +contempt of him, and ridicule, impatience and indignation at the +persistent visits of that insufferable guest. + +"What a disgrace and scandal this is to me!" he whispered without +stirring from the spot. "Things have reached such a pitch that it is as +much as the Nikoläievs can do to endure my company." + +The lights in their drawing-room were now extinguished. "They are in +their bedroom now," thought Romashov, and at once he began fancying that +Nikoläiev and Shurochka were then talking about him whilst making their +toilet for the night with the indifference and absence of bashfulness at +each other's presence that is characteristic of married couples. The +wife is sitting in her petticoat in front of the mirror, combing her +hair. Vladimir Yefimovitch is sitting in his night-shirt at the edge of +the bed, and saying in a sleepy but angry tone, whilst flushed with the +exertion of taking off his boots: "Hark you, Shurochka, that infernal +bore, your dear Romashov, will be the death of me with his insufferable +visits. And I really can't understand how you can tolerate him." Then to +this frank and candid speech Shurochka replies, without turning round, +and with her mouth full of hairpins: "Be good enough to remember, sir, +he is not _my_ Romochka, but _yours_." + +Another five minutes elapsed before Romashov, still tortured by these +bitter and painful thoughts, made up his mind to continue his journey. +Along the whole extent of the palings belonging to the Nikoläievs' house +he walked with stealthy steps, cautiously and gently dragging his feet +from the mire, as if he feared he might be discovered and arrested as a +common vagrant. To go straight home was not to his liking at all. Nay, +he dared not even think of his gloomy, low-pitched, cramped room with +its single window and repulsive furniture. "By Jove! why shouldn't I +look up Nasanski, just to annoy _her_?" thought he all of a sudden, +whereupon he experienced the delightful satisfaction of revenge. + +"She reproached me for my friendship with Nasanski. Well, I shall just +for that very reason pay him a visit." + +He raised eyes to heaven, and said to himself passionately, as he +pressed his hands against his heart-- + +"I swear--I swear that to-day I have visited them for the last time. I +will no longer endure this mortification." + +And immediately afterwards he added mentally, as was his ingrained +habit-- + +"His expressive black eyes glistened with resolution and contempt." + +But Romashov's eyes, unfortunately, were neither "black" nor +"expressive," but of a very common colour, slightly varying between +yellow and green. + +Nasanski tenanted a room in a comrade's--Lieutenant Siégerscht's--house. +This Siégerscht was most certainly the oldest lieutenant in the whole +Russian Army. Notwithstanding his unimpeachable conduct as an officer +and the fact of his having served in the war with Turkey, through some +unaccountable disposition of fate, his military career seemed closed, +and every hope of further advancement was apparently lost. He was a +widower, with four little children and forty-eight roubles a month, on +which sum, strangely enough, he managed to get along. It was his +practice to hire large flats which he afterwards, in turn, let out to +his brother officers. He took in boarders, fattened and sold fowls and +turkeys, and no one understood better than he how to purchase wood and +other necessaries cheap and at the right time. He bathed his children +himself in a common trough, prescribed for them from his little +medicine-chest when they were ill, and, with his sewing-machine, made +them tiny shirts, under-vests, and drawers. Like many other officers, +Siégerscht had, in his bachelor days, interested himself in woman's +work, and acquired a readiness with his needle that proved very useful +in hard times. Malicious tongues went so far as to assert that he +secretly and stealthily sold his handiwork. + +Notwithstanding all his economy and closeness, his life was full of +troubles. Epidemic diseases ravaged his fowl-house, his numerous rooms +stood unlet for long periods; his boarders grumbled at their bad food +and refused to pay. The consequence of this was that, three or four +times a year, Siégerscht--tall, thin, and unshaven, with cheerless +countenance and a forehead dripping with cold sweat--might be seen on +his way to the town to borrow some small sum. And all recognized the +low, regimental cap that resembled a pancake, always with its peak +askew, as well as the antiquated cloak, modelled on those worn in the +time of the Emperor Nicholas, which waved in the breeze like a couple of +huge wings. + +A light was burning in Siégerscht's flat, and as Romashov approached the +window, he saw him sitting by a round table under a hanging-lamp. The +bald head, with its gentle, worn features, was bent low over a little +piece of red cloth which was probably destined to form an integral part +of a Little Russian _roubashka_.[6] Romashov went up and tapped at the +window. Siégerscht started up, laid aside his work, rose from the table, +and went up to the window. + +"It is I, Adam Ivanich--open the window a moment." + +Siégerscht opened a little pane and looked out. + +"Well, it's you, Sub-Lieutenant Romashov. What's up?" + +"Is Nasanski at home?" + +"Of course he's at home--where else should he be? Ah! your friend +Nasanski cheats me nicely, I can tell you. For two months I have kept +him in food, but, as for his paying for it, as yet I've only had grand +promises. When he moved here, I asked him most particularly that, to +avoid unpleasantness and misunderstandings, he should----" + +"Yes, yes, we know all about that," interrupted Romashov; "but tell me +now how he is. Will he see me?" + +"Yes, certainly, that he will; he does nothing but walk up and down his +room." Siégerscht stopped and listened for a second. "You yourself can +hear him tramping about. You see, I said to him, 'To prevent +unpleasantness and misunderstandings, it will be best for----'" + +"Excuse me, Adam Ivanich; but we'll talk of that another time. I'm in a +bit of a hurry," said Romashov, interrupting him for the second time, +and meanwhile continuing his way round the corner. A light was burning +in one of Nasanski's windows; the other was wide open. Nasanski himself +was walking, in his shirt sleeves and without a collar, backwards and +forwards with rapid steps. Romashov crept nearer the wall and called him +by name. + +"Who's there?" asked Nasanski in a careless tone, leaning out of the +window. "Oh, it's you, Georgie Alexievich. Come in through the window. +It's a long and dark way round through that door. Hold out your hand and +I'll help you." + +Nasanski's dwelling was if possible more wretched that Romashov's. Along +the wall by the window stood a low, narrow, uncomfortable bed, the +bulging, broken bottom of which was covered by a coarse cotton coverlet; +on the other wall one saw a plain unpainted table with two common chairs +without backs. High up in one corner of the room was a little cupboard +fixed to the wall. A brown leather trunk, plastered all over with +address labels and railway numbers, lay in state. There was not a single +thing in the room except these articles and the lamp. + +"Good-evening, my friend," said Nasanski, with a hearty hand-shake and a +warm glance from his beautiful, deep blue eyes. "Please sit down on this +bed. As you've already heard, I have handed in my sick-report." + +"Yes, I heard it just now from Nikoläiev." + +Again Romashov called to mind Stepan's insulting remark, the painful +memory of which was reflected in his face. + +"Oh, you come from the Nikoläievs," cried Nasanski and with visible +interest. "Do you often visit them?" + +The unusual tone of the question made Romashov uneasy and suspicious, +and he instinctively uttered a falsehood. He answered carelessly-- + +"No, certainly not often. I just happened to look them up." + +Nasanski, who had been walking up and down the room during the +conversation, now stopped before the little cupboard, the door of which +he opened. On one of its shelves stood a bottle of vodka, and beside it +lay an apple cut up into thin, even slices. Standing with his back to +his guest, Nasanski poured out for himself a glass, and quickly drained +it. Romashov noticed how Nasanski's back, under its thin linen shirt, +quivered convulsively. + +"Would you like anything?" asked Nasanski, with a gesture towards the +cupboard. "My larder is, as you see, poor enough; but if you are hungry +one can always try and procure an omelette. Anyhow, that's more than our +father Adam had to offer." + +"Thanks, not now. Perhaps later on." + +Nasanski stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked about the room. +After pacing up and down twice he began talking as though resuming an +interrupted conversation. + +"Yes, I am always walking up and down and thinking. But I am quite +happy. To-morrow, of course, they will say as usual in the regiment, +'He's a drunkard.' And that is true in a sense, but it is not the whole +truth. All the same, at this moment, I'm happy; I feel neither pain nor +ailments. It is different, alas! in ordinary circumstances. My mind and +will-power are paralysed; I shall again become a cowardly and despicably +mean creature, vain, shabby, hypocritical--a curse to myself and every +one else. I loathe my profession, but, nevertheless, I remain in it. And +why? Ah! the devil himself could not explain that. Because I had it +knocked into me in my childhood, and have lived since in a set where it +is held that the most important thing in life is to serve the State, to +be free from anxiety as to one's clothes and daily bread. And +philosophy, people say, is mere rubbish, good enough for one who has +nothing else to do or who has come into a goodly heritage from his dear +mamma. + +"Thus I, too, occupy myself with things in which I don't take the +slightest interest, or issue orders that seem to me both harsh and +unmeaning. My daily life is as monotonous and cheerless as an old deal +board, as rough and hard as a soldier's regulation cap. I dare scarcely +think of, far less talk of, love, beauty, my place in the scheme of +creation, of freedom and happiness, of poetry and God. They would only +laugh ha! ha! ha! at me, and say: 'Oh, damn it! That, you know, is +philosophy. It is not only ridiculous but even dangerous for an officer +to show he holds any high views,' and at best the officer escapes with +being dubbed a harmless, hopeless ass." + +"And yet it is this that alone gives life any value," sighed Romashov. + +"And now the happy hour is drawing nigh about which they tattle so +heartlessly and with so much contempt," Nasanski went on to say without +listening to Romashov's words. He walked incessantly backwards and +forwards, and interpolated his speech, every now and then, with striking +gestures, which were not, however, addressed to Romashov, but were +always directed to the two corners of the room which he visited in turn. +"Now comes my turn of freedom, Romashov--freedom for soul, thought, and +will. Then I shall certainly live a peculiar, but nevertheless rich, +inner life. All that I have seen, heard, and read will then gain a +deeper meaning, will appear in a clear and more distinct light, and +receive a deep, infinite significance. My memory will then be like a +museum of rare curiosities. I shall be a very Rothschild. I take the +first object within my reach, gaze at it long, closely, and with +rapture. Persons, events, characters, books, women, love--nay, first and +last, women and love--all this is interwoven in my imagination. Now and +then I think of the heroes and geniuses of history, of the countless +martyrs of religion and science. I don't believe in God, Romashov, but +sometimes I think of the saints and martyrs and call to mind the Holy +Scriptures and canticles." + +Romashov got up quietly from his seat at the edge of the bed and walked +away to the open window, and then he sat down with his back resting +against the sill. From that spot, from the lighted room, the night +seemed to him still darker and more fraught with mystery. Tepid breezes +whispered just beneath the window, amongst the dark foliage of the +shrubs. And in this mild air, charged with the sharp, aromatic perfume +of spring, under those gleaming stars, in this dead silence of the +universe, one might fancy he felt the hot breath of reviving, +generating, voluptuous Nature. + +Nasanski continued all along his eternal wandering, and indulged in +building castles in the air, without looking at Romashov, as if he were +talking to the walls. + +"In these moments my thoughts--seething, motley, original--chase one +another. My senses acquire an unnatural acuteness; my imagination +becomes an overwhelming flood. Persons and things, living or dead, which +are evoked by me stand before me in high relief and also in an +extraordinarily intense light, as if I saw them in a _camera obscura_. I +know, I know now, that all that is merely a super-excitation of the +senses, an emanation of the soul flaming up like lightning, but in the +next instant flickering out, being produced by the physiological +influence of alcohol on the nervous system. In the beginning I thought +such psychic phenomena implied an elevation of my inner, spiritual Ego, +and that even I might have moments of inspiration. But no; there was +nothing permanent or of any value in this, nothing creative or +fructifying. Altogether it was only a morbid, physiological process, a +river wave that at every ebb that occurs sucks away with it and destroys +the beach. Yes, this, alas! is a fact. But it is also equally +indisputable that these wild imaginings procured me moments of ineffable +happiness. And besides, let the devil keep for his share your +much-vaunted high morality, your hypocrisy, and your insufferable rules +of health. I don't want to become one of your pillar-saints nor do I +wish to live a hundred years so as to figure as a physiological miracle +in the advertisement columns of the newspapers. I am happy, and that +suffices." + +Nasanski again went up to the little cupboard, poured out and swallowed +a "nip," after which he shut the cupboard door with much ceremony and an +expression on his face as if he had fulfilled a religious duty. Romashov +walked listlessly up from the window to the cupboard, the life-giving +contents of which he sampled with a gloomy and _blasé_ air. This done, +he returned to his seat on the window-bench. + +"What were you thinking about just before I came, Vasili Nilich?" asked +Romashov, as he made himself as comfortable as possible. + +Nasanski, however, did not hear his question. "How sweet it is to dream +of women!" he exclaimed with a grand and eloquent gesture. "But away +with all unclean thoughts! And why? Ah! because no one has any right, +even in imagination, to make a human being a culprit in what is low, +sinful, and impure. How often I think of chaste, tender, loving women, +of their bright tears and gracious smiles; of young, devoted, +self-sacrificing mothers, of all those who have faced death for love; of +proud, bewitching maidens with souls as pure as snow, knowing all, yet +afraid of nothing. But such women do not exist--yet I am wrong, +Romashov; such women do exist although neither you nor I have seen them. +This may possibly be vouchsafed you; but to me--never!" + +He was now standing right in front of Romashov and staring him straight +in the face, but by the far-off expression in his eyes, by the +enigmatical smile that played on his lips, any one could observe that he +did not even see to whom he was talking. Never had Nasanski's +countenance--even in his better and sober moments--seemed to Romashov so +attractive and interesting as at this instant. His golden hair fell in +luxuriant curls around his pure and lofty brow; his blond, closely +clipped beard was curled in light waves, and his strong, handsome head +on his bare, classically shaped neck reminded one of the sages and +heroes of Greece, whose busts Romashov had seen in engravings and at +museums. Nasanski's bright, clever blue eyes glistened with moisture, +and his well-formed features were rendered still more engaging by the +fresh colour of his complexion, although a keen eye could not, I +daresay, avoid noticing a certain flabbiness--the infallible mark of +every person addicted to drink. + +"Love--what an abyss of mystery is contained in the word, and what bliss +lies hidden in its tortures!" Nasanski went on to say in an enraptured +voice. In his violent excitement he caught hold of his hair with both +hands, and took two hasty strides towards the other end of the room, but +suddenly stopped, and turned round sharply to Romashov with a merry +laugh. The latter observed him with great interest, but likewise not +without a certain uneasiness. + +"Just this moment I remember an amusing story" (Nasanski now dropped +into his usual good-tempered tone), "but, ugh! how my wits go +wool-gathering--now here, now there. Once upon a time I sat waiting for +the train at Ryasan, and wait I did--I suppose half a day, for it was +right in the middle of the spring floods, and the train had met with +real obstacles. Well, you must know, I built myself a little nest in the +waiting-room. Behind the counter stood a girl of eighteen--not pretty, +being pockmarked, but brisk and pleasant. She had black eyes and a +charming smile. In fact, she was a very nice girl. We were three, all +told, at the station: she, I, and a little telegraphist with white +eyebrows and eyelashes. Ah! excuse me, there was another person +there--the girl's father, a fat, red-faced, grey-haired brute, who put +me in mind of a rough old mastiff. But this attractive figure kept +itself, as a rule, behind the scenes. Only rarely and for a few minutes +did he put in an appearance behind the counter, to yawn, scratch himself +under his waistcoat, and immediately afterwards disappear for a longish +time. He spent his life in bed, and his eyes were glued together by +eternally sleeping. The little telegraphist paid frequent and regular +visits to the waiting-room, laid his elbows on the counter, but was, for +the most part, as mute as the grave. She, too, was silent and looked +dreamily out of the window at the floods. All of a sudden our youngster +began humming-- + + "'Love--love. + What is love? + Something celestial + That drives us wild.' + +"After this, again silence. A pause of five minutes, she begins, in her +turn-- + + "'Love--love. + What is love?' etc. + +"Both the sentimental words as well as the melody were taken from some +musty old operetta that had perhaps been performed in the town, and had +become a pleasant recollection to both the young people. Then again the +same wistful song and significant silence. At last she steals softly a +couple of paces to the window, all the while keeping one hand on the +counter. Our Celadon quietly lays hold of the delicate fingers, one by +one, and with visible trepidation gazes at them in profound devotion. +And again the _motif_ of that hackneyed operetta is heard from his lips. +It was spring with all its yearning. Then all this cloying 'love' only +awoke in me nausea and disgust, but, since then, I have often thought +with deep emotion of the vast amount of happiness this innocent +love-making could bestow, and how it was most certainly the only ray of +light in the dreary lives of these two human beings--lives, very likely, +even more empty and barren than my own. But, I beg your pardon, +Romashov; why should I bore you with my silly, long-winded stories?" + +Nasanski again betook himself to the little cupboard, but he did not +fetch out the schnapps bottle, but stood motionless with his back turned +to Romashov. He scratched his forehead, pressed his right hand lightly +to his temple, and maintained this position for a considerable while, +evidently a prey to conflicting thoughts. + +"You were speaking of women, love, abysses, mystery, and joy," remarked +Romashov, by way of reminder. + +"Yes, love," cried Nasanski in a jubilant voice. He now took out the +bottle, poured some of its contents out, and drained the glass quickly, +as he turned round with a fierce glance, and wiped his mouth with his +shirt sleeve. "Love! who do you suppose understands the infinite meaning +of this holy word? And yet--from it men have derived subjects for +filthy, rubbishy operettas; for lewd pictures and statues, shameless +stories and disgusting 'rhymes.' That is what we officers do. Yesterday +I had a visit from Ditz. He sat where you are sitting now. He toyed with +his gold pince-nez and talked about women. Romashov, my friend, I tell +you that if an animal, a dog, for instance, possessed the faculty of +understanding human speech, and had happened to hear what Ditz said +yesterday, it would have fled from the room ashamed. Ditz, as you know, +Romashov, is a 'good fellow,' and even the others are 'good,' for really +bad people do not exist; but for fear of forfeiting his reputation as a +cynic, 'man about town,' and 'lady-killer,' he dares not express himself +about women otherwise than he does. Amongst our young men there is a +universal confusion of ideas that often finds expression in bragging +contempt, and the cause of this is that the great majority seek in the +possession of women only coarse, sensual, brutish enjoyment, and that +is the reason why love becomes to them only something contemptible, +wanton--well, I don't know, damn it! how to express exactly what I +mean--and, when the animal instincts are satisfied, coldness, disgust, +and enmity are the natural result. The man of culture has said +good-night to love, just as he has done to robbery and murder, and seems +to regard it only as a sort of snare set by Nature for the destruction +of humanity." + +"That is the truth about it," agreed Romashov quietly and sadly. + +"No, that is _not_ true!" shouted Nasanski in a voice of thunder. "Yes, +I say it once more--it is a lie. In this, as in everything else, Nature +has revealed her wisdom and ingenuity. The fact is merely that whereas +Lieutenant Ditz finds in love only brutal enjoyment, disgust, and +surfeit, Dante finds in it beauty, felicity, and harmony. True love is +the heritage of the elect, and to understand this let us take another +simile. All mankind has an ear for music, but, in the case of millions, +this is developed about as much as in stock-fish or Staff-Captain +Vasilichenko. Only one individual in all these millions is a Beethoven. +And the same is the case in everything--in art, science, poetry. And so +far as love is concerned, I tell you that even this has its peaks which +only one out of millions is able to climb." + +He walked to the window, and leaned his forehead against the sill where +Romashov sat gazing out on the warm, dark, spring night. At last he said +in a voice low, but vibrating with strong inward excitement-- + +"Oh, if we could see and grasp Love's innermost being, its supernatural +beauty and charm--we gross, blind earth-worms! How many know and feel +what happiness, what delightful tortures exist in an undying, hopeless +love? I remember, when I was a youth, how all my yearning took form and +shape in this single dream: to fall in love with an ideally beautiful +and noble woman far beyond my reach, and standing so high above me that +every thought of possessing her I might harbour was mad and criminal; to +consecrate to her all my life, all my thoughts, without her even +suspecting it, and to carry my delightful, torturing secret with me to +the grave; to be her slave, her lackey, her protector, or to employ a +thousand arts just to see her once a year, to come close to her, +and--oh, maddening rapture!--to touch the hem of her garment or kiss the +ground on which she had walked----" + +"And to wind up in a mad-house," exclaimed Romashov in a gloomy tone. + +"Oh, my dear fellow, what does that matter?" cried Nasanski +passionately. "Perhaps--who knows?--one might then attain to that state +of bliss one reads of in stories. Which is best--to lose your wits +through a love which can never be realized, or, like Ditz, to go stark +mad from shameful, incurable diseases or slow paralysis? Just think what +felicity--to stand all night in front of her window on the other side of +the street. Look, there's a shadow visible behind the drawn curtain--can +it be _she_? What's she doing? What's she thinking of? The light is +lowered--sleep, my beloved, sleep in peace, for Love is keeping vigil. +Days, months, years pass away; the moment at last arrives when Chance, +perhaps, bestows on you her glove, handkerchief, the concert programme +she has thrown away. She is not acquainted with you, does not even know +that you exist. Her glance passes over you without seeing you; but +there you stand with the same unchangeable, idolatrous adoration, ready +to sacrifice yourself for her--nay, even for her slightest whim, for her +husband, lover, her pet dog, to sacrifice life, honour, and all that you +hold dear. Romashov, a bliss such as this can never fall to the lot of +our Don Juans and lady-killers." + +"Ah, how true this is! how splendidly you speak!" cried Romashov, +carried away by Nasanski's passionate words and gestures. Long before +this he had got up from the window, and now he was walking, like his +eccentric host, up and down the long, narrow room, pacing the floor with +long, quick strides. "Listen, Nasanski. I will tell you something--about +myself. Once upon a time I fell in love with a woman--oh, not here; no, +in Moscow. I was then a mere stripling. Ah, well, she had no inkling of +it, and it was enough for me to be allowed to sit near her when she +sewed, and to draw quietly and imperceptibly, the threads towards me. +That was all, and she noticed nothing; but it was enough to turn my head +with joy." + +"Ah, yes, how well I understand this!" replied Nasanski with a friendly +smile, nodding his head all the time. "A delicate white thread charged +with electrical currents. What a store of poetry is enshrined in that! +My dear fellow, life is so beautiful!" + +Nasanski, absorbed in profound reverie, grew silent, and his blue eyes +were bright with tears. Romashov also felt touched, and there was +something nervous, hysterical, and spontaneous about this melancholy of +his, but these expressions of pity were not only for Nasanski, but +himself. + +"Vasili Nilich, I admire you," cried he as he grasped and warmly pressed +both Nasanski's hands. "But how can so gifted, far-sighted, and +wide-awake a man as you rush, with his eyes open, to his own +destruction? But I am the last person on earth who ought to read you a +lesson on morals. Only one more question: supposing in the course of +your life you happened to meet a woman worthy of you, and capable of +appreciating you, would you then----? I've thought of this so often." + +Nasanski stopped and stared for a long time through the open window. + +"A woman----" he uttered the word slowly and dreamily. "I'll tell you a +story," he continued suddenly and in an energetic tone. "Once in my life +I met an exceptional--ah! wonderful--woman, a young girl, but as Heine +somewhere says: 'She was worthy of being loved, and he loved her; but he +was not worthy, and she did not love him.' Her love waned because I +drank, or perhaps it was I drank because she did not love me. _She_--by +the way, it was not here that this happened. It was a long time ago, and +you possibly know that I first served in the infantry for three years, +after that for four years with the reserves, and for a second time, +three years ago, I came here. Well, to continue, between her and me +there was no romance whatever. We met and had five or six chats +together--that was all. But have you ever thought what an irresistible, +bewitching might there is in the past, in our recollections? The memory +of these few insignificant episodes of my life constitutes the whole of +my wealth. I love her even to this very day. Wait, Romashov, you deserve +to hear it--I will read out to you the first and only letter I ever +received from her." He crouched down before the old trunk, opened it, +and began rummaging impatiently among a mass of old papers, during +which he kept on talking. "I know she never loved any one but herself. +There was a depth of pride, imperiousness, even cruelty about her, yet, +at the same time, she was so good, so genuinely womanly, so infinitely +pleasant and lovable. She had two natures--the one egoistical and +calculating, the other all heart and passionate tenderness. See here, I +have it. Read it now, Romashov. The beginning will not interest you +much" (Nasanski turned over a few lines of the letter), "but read from +here; read it all." + +Romashov felt as if some one had struck him a stunning blow on the head, +and the whole room seemed to dance before his eyes, for the letter was +written in a large but nervous and compressed hand, that could only +belong to Alexandra Petrovna--quaint, irregular, but by no means +unsympathetic. Romashov, who had often received cards from her with +invitations to small dinners and card parties, recognized this hand at +once. + +"It is a bitter and hard task for me to write this," read Romashov under +Nasanski's hand; "but only you yourself are to blame for our +acquaintance coming to this tragic end. Lying I abominate more than +anything else in life. It always springs from cowardice and weakness, +and this is the reason why I shall also tell you the whole truth. I +loved you up to now; yes, I love you even now, and I know it will prove +very hard for me to master this feeling. But I also know that, in the +end, I shall gain the victory. What do you suppose our lot would be if I +acted otherwise? I confess I lack the energy and self-denial requisite +for becoming the housekeeper, nurse-girl, or sister of mercy to a +weakling with no will of his own. I loathe above everything +self-sacrifice and pity for others, and I shall let neither you nor any +one else excite these feelings in me. I will not have a husband who +would only be a dog at my feet, incessantly craving alms or proofs of +affection. And you would never be anything else, in spite of your +extraordinary talents and noble qualities. Tell me now, with your hand +upon your heart, if you are capable of it. Alas! my dear Vasili Nilich, +if you could. All my heart, all my life yearns for you. I love you. What +is the obstacle, then? No one but yourself. For a person one loves, one +can, you know, sacrifice the whole world, and now I ask of you only this +one thing; but can you? No, you cannot, and now I bid you good-bye for +ever. In thought I kiss you on your forehead as one kisses a corpse, and +you are dead to me--for ever. I advise you to destroy this letter, not +that I blush for or fear its contents, but because I think it will be a +source to you of tormenting recollections. I repeat once more----" + +"The rest is of little interest to you," said Nasanski abruptly, as he +took the letter from Romashov's hand. "This, as I have just told you, +was her only letter to me." + +"What happened afterwards?" stammered Romashov awkwardly. + +"Afterwards? We never saw one another afterwards. She went her way and +is reported to have married an engineer. That, however, is another +matter." + +"And you never visit Alexandra Petrovna?" + +Romashov uttered these words in a whisper, but both officers started at +the sound of them, and gazed at each other a long time without speaking. +During these few seconds all the barriers raised by human guile and +hypocrisy fell away, and the two men read each other's soul as an open +book. Hundreds of things that had hitherto been for them a profound +secret stood before them that moment in dazzling light, and the whole of +the conversation that evening suddenly took a peculiar, deep, nay, +almost tragic, significance. + +"What? you too?" exclaimed Nasanski at last, with an expression +bordering on fear in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure and +exclaimed with a laugh, "Ugh! what a misunderstanding! We were +discussing something quite different. That letter which you have just +read was written hundreds of years ago, and the woman in question lived +in Transcaucasia. But where was it we left off?" + +"It is late, Vasili Nilich, and time to say good-night," replied +Romashov, rising. + +Nasanski did not try to keep him. They separated neither in a cold or +unfriendly way, but they were, as it seemed, ashamed of each other. +Romashov was now more convinced than ever that the letter was from +Shurochka. During the whole of his way home he thought of nothing except +this letter, but he could not make out what feelings it aroused in him. +They were a mingling of jealousy of Nasanski--jealousy on account of +what had been--but also a certain exultant pity for Nasanski, and in +himself there awoke new hopes, dim and indefinite, but delicious and +alluring. It was as if this letter had put into his hand a mysterious, +invisible clue that was leading him into the future. + +The breeze had subsided. The tepid night's intense darkness and silence +reminded one of soft, warm velvet. One felt, as it were, life's mystic +creative force in the never-slumbering air, in the dumb stillness of the +invisible trees, in the smell of the earth. Romashov walked without +seeing which way he went, and it seemed to him as if he felt the hot +breath of something strong and powerful, but, at the same time, sweet +and caressing. His thoughts went back with dull, harrowing pain to +bygone happy springs that would never more return--to the blissful, +innocent days of his childhood. + +When he reached home he found on the table another letter from Raisa +Alexandrovna Peterson. In her usual bad taste she complained, in turgid, +extravagant terms, of his "deceitful conduct" towards her. She "now +understood everything," and the "injured woman" within her invoked on +him all the perils of hatred and revenge. + + Now I know what I have to do (the letter ran). If I survive the + sorrow and pain of your abominable conduct, you may be quite + certain I shall cruelly avenge this insult. You seem to think that + nobody knows where you are in the habit of spending your evenings. + You are watched! and even walls have ears. Every step you take is + known to me. But all the same, you will never get anything _there_ + with all your soft, pretty speeches, unless N. flings you + downstairs like a puppy. So far as I am concerned, you will be wise + not to lull yourself into fancied security. I am not one of those + women who let themselves be insulted with impunity. + + A Caucasian woman am I + Who knows how to handle a knife. + + --Once yours, now nobody's, + +RAISA. + + PS.--I command you to meet me at the soirée on Saturday and explain + your conduct. The third quadrille will be kept for you; but mind, + there is no special importance _now_ in that. + +R. P. + +To Romashov this ill-spelled, ungrammatical letter was a breath of the +stupidity, meanness, and spiteful tittle-tattle of a provincial town. He +felt for ever soiled from head to foot by this disgusting _liaison_, +scarcely of six months' standing, with a woman he had never loved. He +threw himself on his bed with an indescribable feeling of depression. He +even felt as if he were torn to tatters by the events of the day, and he +involuntarily called to mind Nasanski's words that very night: "his +thoughts were as grey as a soldier's cloak." + +He soon fell into a deep, heavy sleep. As he had always done of late, +when he had had bitter moments, he saw himself, even now in his dreams, +as a little child. There were no impure impulses in him, no sense of +something lacking, no weariness of life; his body was light and healthy, +and his soul was luminous and full of joy and hope; and in this world of +radiance and happiness he saw dear old Moscow's streets in the dazzling +brightness that is presented to the eyes in dreamland. But far away by +the horizon, at the very verge of this sky that was saturated with +light, there arose quickly and threateningly a dark, ill-boding wall of +cloud, behind which was hidden a horrible provincial hole of a place +with cruel and unbearable slavery, drills, recruit schools, drinking, +false friends, and utterly corrupt women. His life was nothing but joy +and gladness, but the dark cloud was waiting patiently for the moment +when it was to fold him in its deadly embrace. And it so happened that +little Romashov, amidst his childish babble and innocent dreams, +bewailed in silence the fate of his "double." + +He awoke in the middle of the night, and noticed that his pillow was wet +with tears. Then he wept afresh, and the warm tears again ran down his +cheeks in rapid streams. + + + + +VI + + +With the exception of a few ambitious men bent on making a career for +themselves, all the officers regarded the service as an intolerable +slavery to which they must needs submit. The younger of them behaved +like veritable schoolboys; they came late to the drills, and wriggled +away from them as soon as possible, provided that could be done without +risk of serious consequences to themselves afterwards. The captains, +who, as a rule, were burdened with large families, were immersed in +household cares, scandals, money troubles, and were worried the whole +year through with loans, promissory notes, and other methods of raising +the wind. Many ventured--often at the instigation of their +wives--secretly to divert to their own purposes the moneys belonging to +the regiment and the soldiers' pay--nay, they even went so far as +"officially" to withhold their men's private letters when the latter +were found to contain money. Some lived by gambling--vint, schtoss, +lansquenet--and certain rather ugly stories were told in connection with +this--stories which high authorities had a good deal of trouble to +suppress. In addition to all this, heavy drinking, both at mess and in +their own homes, was widespread amongst the officers. + +With regard to the officers' sense of duty, that, too, was, as a rule, +altogether lacking. The non-commissioned officers did all the work; the +pay-sergeants set in motion and regulated the inner mechanism of the +company, and were held responsible for the despatch of it; hence very +soon, and quite imperceptibly, the commander became a mere marionette in +the coarse, experienced hands of his subordinates. The senior officers, +moreover, regarded the exercises of the troops with the same aversion as +did their junior comrades, and if at any time they displayed their zeal +by punishing an ensign, they only did it to gain prestige or--which was +more seldom the case--to satisfy their lust of power or desire for +revenge. + +Captains of brigades and battalions had, as a rule, absolutely nothing +to do in the winter. During the summer it was their duty to inspect the +exercises of the battalion, to assist at those of the regiment and +division, and to undergo the hardships of the field-manoeuvres. During +their long freedom from duty they used to sit continually in their +mess-room, eagerly studying the _Russki Invalid_,[7] and savagely +criticizing all new appointments; but cards were, however, their alpha +and omega, and they most readily permitted their juniors to be their +hosts, though they but very rarely exercised a cautious hospitality in +their own homes, and then only with the object of getting their numerous +daughters married. + +But when the time for the great review approached, it was quite another +tune. All, from the highest to the lowest, were seized by a sort of +madness. There was no talk of peace and quiet then; every one tried, by +additional hours of drill and an almost maniacal activity, to make up +for previous negligence. The soldiers were treated with the most +heartless cruelty, and overtaxed to the last degree of sheer exhaustion. +Every one was tyrant over some wretch; the company commanders, with +endless curses, threatened their "incompetent" subalterns, and the +latter, in turn, poured the vials of their wrath over the "non-coms.," +and the "non-coms.," hoarse with shouting orders, oaths, and the most +frightful insults, struck and misused the soldiers in the most ferocious +manner. The whole camp and parade-ground were changed into a hell, and +Sundays, with their indispensable rest and peace, loomed like a heavenly +paradise in the eyes of the poor tortured recruits. + +This spring the regiment was preparing for the great May parade. It was +at this time common knowledge that the review was to take place before +the commander of the corps--a strict old veteran, known throughout +military literature by his works on the Carlist War and the +Franco-German Campaign of 1870, in which he took part as a volunteer. +Besides, he was known throughout the kingdom for his eccentric general +orders and manifestoes that were invariably couched in a lapidary style +à la Savóroff. The reckless, sharp, and coarse sarcasm he always infused +into his criticism was feared by the officers more than even the +severest disciplinary punishment. + +It was not to be wondered at that for a fortnight the whole regiment +worked with feverish energy, and Sunday was no less longed for by the +utterly worn-out officers than by the men, who were well-nigh tortured +to death. + +But to Romashov, who sat idle under arrest, Sunday brought neither joy +nor repose. As he had tried in vain to sleep during the night, he got up +early, dressed slowly and unwillingly, drank his tea with undisguised +repugnance, and refreshed himself at last by hurling a few insults at +Hainán, who did not heed them in the least, but continued to stalk about +the room as happy, active, and clumsy as a puppy. + +Romashov sauntered up and down his narrow room in his unbuttoned, +carelessly donned undress uniform. Now he bumped his knee against the +foot of the bed, now his elbow against the rickety bookcase. It was the +first time now for half a year--thanks to a somewhat unpleasant +accident--that he found himself alone in his own abode. He had always +been occupied with drill, sentry duty, card-playing, and libations to +Bacchus, dancing attendance on the Peterson woman, and evening calls on +the Nikoläievs. Sometimes, if he happened to be free and had nothing +particular in view, Romashov might, if worried by moping and laziness, +and as if he feared his own company, rush aimlessly off to the club, or +some acquaintance, or simply to the street, in hopes of finding some +bachelor comrade--a meeting which infallibly ended with a drinking-bout +in the mess-room. Now he contemplated with dread the long, unendurable +day of loneliness and boredom before him, and a crowd of stupid, +extraordinary fancies and projects buzzed in his brain. + +The bells in the town were ringing for High Mass. Through the inner +window, which had not been removed since the winter began, forced their +way into the room these trembling tones that were produced, as it were, +one from the other, and in the melancholy clang of which, on this +sentimental spring morning, there lay a peculiar power of charm. +Immediately outside Romashov's window lay a garden in which many +cherry-trees grew in rich abundance, all white with blooms, and all +soft and round as a flock of snow-white sheep whose wool was fine. +Between them, here and there, arose slim but gigantic poplars that +stretched their boughs beseechingly towards heaven, and ancient, +venerable chestnut-trees with their dome-like crests. The trees were +still bare, with black, naked boughs, but on these, though the eye could +hardly discern them, the first yellowish verdure, fresh as the dew, +began to be visible. In the pure, moisture-laden air of the +newly-awakened spring day, the trees rocked softly here and there before +the cool, sportive breezes that murmured from time to time among the +flowers, and bowed them to the ground with a roguish kiss. + +From the windows one could discern, on the left, through a gateway, a +part of the dirty street, which on one side was fenced off. People +passed alongside of the fence from time to time, walking slowly as they +picked out a dry place for their next step. "Lucky people," thought +Romashov, as he enviously followed them with his eyes, "they need not +hurry. They have the whole of the long day before them--ah! a whole, +free, glorious day." + +And suddenly there came over him a longing for freedom so intense and +passionate that tears rushed to his eyes, and he had great difficulty in +restraining himself from running out of the house. Now, however, it was +not the mess-room that attracted him, but only the yard, the street, +fresh air. It was as if he had never understood before what freedom was, +and he was astonished at the amount of happiness that is comprised in +the simple fact that one may go where one pleases, turn into this or +that street, stop in the middle of the square, peep into a half-opened +church door, etc., etc., all at one's own sweet will and without having +to fear the consequences. The right to do, and the possibility of doing, +all this would be enough to fill a man's heart with an exultant sense of +joy and bliss. + +He remembered in connection with this how, in his earliest youth, long +before he entered the Cadet School, his mother used to punish him by +tying him tightly to the foot of the bed with fine thread, after which +she left him by himself; and little Romashov sat for whole hours +submissively still. But never for an instant did it occur to him to flee +from the house, although, under ordinary circumstances, he never stood +on ceremony--for instance, to slide down the water-pipe from other +storys to the street; to dangle, without permission, after a military +band or a funeral procession as far as the outskirts of Moscow; or to +steal from his mother lumps of sugar, jam, and cigarettes for older +playfellows, etc. But this brittle thread exercised a remarkable +hypnotizing influence on his mind as a child. He was even afraid of +breaking it by some sudden, incautious movement. In that case he was +influenced by no fear whatsoever of punishment, neither by a sense of +duty, nor by regret, but by pure hypnosis, a superstitious dread of the +unfathomable power and superiority of grown-up or older persons, which +reminds one of the savage who, paralysed by fright, dares not take a +step beyond the magic circle that the conjurer has drawn. + +"And here I am sitting now like a schoolboy, like a little helpless, +mischievous brat tied by the leg," thought Romashov as he slouched +backwards and forwards in his room. "The door is open, I can go when I +please, can do what I please, can talk and laugh--but I am kept back by +a thread. _I_ sit here; _I_ and nobody else. Some one has ordered me to +sit here, and I shall sit here; but who has authorized him to order +this? Certainly not _I_. + +"I"--Romashov stood in the middle of the room with his legs straddling +and his head hanging down, thinking deeply. "_I, I, I!_" he shouted in a +loud voice, in which there lay a certain note of astonishment, as if he +now was first beginning to comprehend the meaning of this short word. +"Who is standing here and gaping at that black crack in the floor?--Is +it really I? How curious--I"--he paused slowly and with emphasis on the +monosyllable, just as if it were only by such means that he could grasp +its significance. + +He smiled unnaturally; but, in the next instant, he frowned, and turned +pale with emotion and strain of thought. Such small crises had not +infrequently happened to him during the last five or six years, as is +nearly always the case with young people during that period of life when +the mind is in course of development. A simple truth, a saying, a common +phrase, with the meaning of which he has long ago been familiar, +suddenly, by some mysterious impulse from within, stands in a new light, +and so receives a particular philosophical meaning. Romashov could still +remember the first time this happened to him. It was at school during a +catechism lesson, when the priest tried to explain the parable of the +labourers who carried away stones. One of them began with the light +stones, and afterwards took the heavier ones, but when at last he came +to the very heaviest of all his strength was exhausted. The other worked +according to a diametrically different plan, and luckily fulfilled his +duty. To Romashov was opened the whole abyss of practical wisdom that +lay hidden in this simple picture that he had known and understood ever +since he could read a book. Likewise with the old saying: "Seven times +shalt thou measure, once shalt thou cut." In a happy moment he suddenly +perceived the full, deep import of this maxim; wisdom, understanding, +wise economy, calculation. A tremendous experience of life lay concealed +in these few words. Such was the case now. All his mental individuality +stood suddenly before him with the distinctness of a lightning flash. + +"My Ego," thought Romashov, "is only that which is within me, the very +kernel of my being; all the rest is the non-Ego--that is, only secondary +things. This room, street, trees, sky, the commander of my regiment, +Lieutenant Andrusevich, the service, the standard, the soldiers--all +this is non-Ego. No, no, this is non-Ego--my hands and feet." Romashov +lifted up his hands to the level of his face, and looked at them with +wonder and curiosity, as if he saw them now for the first time in his +life. "No, all this is non-Ego. But look--I pinch my arm--that is the +Ego. I see my arm, I lift it up--_this_ is the Ego. And what I am +thinking now is also Ego. If I now want to go my way, that is the Ego. +And even if I stop, that is the Ego. + +"Oh, how wonderful, how mysterious is this. And so simple too. Is it +true that all individuals possess a similar Ego? Perhaps it is only I +who have it? Or perhaps nobody has it. Down there hundreds of soldiers +stand drawn up in front of me. I give the order: 'Eyes to the right,' to +hundreds of human beings who has each his own Ego, and who see in me +something foreign, distant, i.e. non-Ego--then turn their heads at once +to the right. But I do not distinguish one from the other; they are to +me merely a mass. And to Colonel Schulgovich both I and Viätkin and +Lbov, and all the captains and lieutenants, are likewise perhaps merely +a 'mass,' viz., he does not distinguish one of us from the other, or, in +other words, we are entirely outside his ken as individuals to him." + +The door was opened, and Hainán stole into the room. He began at once +his usual dance, threw up his legs into the air, rocked his shoulders, +and shouted-- + +"Your Honour, I got no cigarettes. They said that Lieutenant Skriabin +gave orders that you were not to have any more on credit." + +"Oh, damn! You can go, Hainán. What am I to do without cigarettes? +However, it is of no consequence. You can go, Hainán." + +"What was it I was thinking of?" Romashov asked himself, when he was +once more alone. He had lost the threads, and, unaccustomed as he was to +think, he could not pick them up again at once. "What was I thinking of +just now? It was something important and interesting. Well, let us turn +back and take the questions in order. Also, I am under arrest; out in +the street I see people at large; my mother tied me up with a +thread--_me, me_. Yes, so it was. The soldier perhaps has an Ego, +perhaps even Colonel Shulgovich. Ha, he! now I remember; go on. Here I +am sitting in my room. I am arrested, but my door is open. I want to go +out, but I dare not. Why do I not dare? Have I committed any +crime--theft--murder? No. All I did was merely omitting to keep my heels +together when I was talking to another man. Possibly I was wrong. Yet, +why? Is it anything important? Is it the chief thing in life? In about +twenty or thirty years--a second in eternity--my life, my Ego, will go +out like a lamp does when one turns the wick down. They will light +life--the lamp--afresh, over and over again; but my Ego is gone for +ever. Likewise this room, this sky, the regiment, the whole army, all +stars, this dirty globe, my hands and feet--all, all--shall be +annihilated for ever. Yes, yes; that is so. Well, all right--but wait a +bit. I must not be in too much of a hurry. I shall not be in existence. +Ah, wait. I found myself in infinite darkness. Somebody came and lighted +my life's lamp, but almost immediately he blew it out again, and once +more I was in darkness, in the eternity of eternities. What did I do? +What did I utter during this short moment of my existence? I held my +thumb on the seam of my trousers and my heels together. I shrieked as +loud as I could: 'Shoulder arms!' and immediately afterwards I thundered +'Use your butt ends, you donkeys!' I trembled before a hundred tyrants, +now miserable ghosts in eternity like my own remarkable, lofty Ego. But +why did I tremble before those ghosts and why could they compel me to do +such a lot of unnecessary, idiotic, unpleasant things? How could they +venture to annoy and insult my Ego--these miserable spectres?" + +Romashov sat down by the table, put his elbows on it, and leaned his +head on his hands. It was hard work for him to keep in check these wild +thoughts which raced through his mind. + +"H'm!--my friend Romashov, what a lot you have forgotten--your +fatherland, the ashes of your sire, the altar of honour, the warrior's +oath and discipline. Who shall preserve the land of your sires when the +foe rushes over its boundaries? Ah! when I am dead there will be no +more fatherland, no enemy, no honour. They will disappear at the same +time as my consciousness. But if all this be buried and brought to +naught--country, enemies, honour, and all the other big words--what has +all this to do with _my Ego_? I am more important than all these phrases +about duty, honour, love, etc. Assume that I am a soldier and my Ego +suddenly says, 'I won't fight,' and not only _my own_ Ego, but millions +of other Egos that constitute the whole of the army, the whole of +Russia, the entire world; all these say, 'We won't!' Then it will be all +over so far as war is concerned, and never again will any one have to +hear such absurdities as 'Open order,' 'Shoulder arms,' and all the rest +of that nonsense. + +"Well, well, well. It must be so some day," shouted an exultant voice in +Romashov. "All that talk about 'warlike deeds,' 'discipline,' 'honour of +the uniform,' 'respect for superiors,' and, first and last, the whole +science of war exists only because humanity will not, or cannot, or dare +not, say, 'I won't.'" + +"What do you suppose all this cunningly reared edifice that is called +the profession of arms really is? Nothing, humbug, a house hanging in +midair, which will tumble down directly mankind pronounces three short +words: 'I will not.' My Ego will never say, 'I will not eat,' 'I will +not breathe,' 'I will not see,' But if any one proposes to my Ego that +it shall die, it infallibly replies: 'I will not.' What, then, is war +with all its hecatombs of dead and the science of war, which teaches us +the best methods of murdering? Why, a universal madness, an illusion. +But wait. Perhaps I am mistaken. No, I cannot be mistaken, for this 'I +will not' is so simple, so natural, that everybody must, in the end, say +it. Let us, however, examine the matter more closely. Let us suppose +that this thought is pronounced this very moment by all Russians, +Germans, Englishmen, and Japanese. Ah, well, what would be the +consequence? Why, that war would cease for ever, and the officers and +soldiers would go, every man, to his home. And what would happen after +that? I know: Shulgovich would answer; Shulgovich would immediately get +querulous and say: 'Now we are done for; they can attack us now whenever +they please, take away our hearths and homes, trample down our fields, +and carry off our wives and sisters.' And what about rioters, +socialists, revolutionaries? But when the whole of mankind without +exception has shouted: 'We will no longer tolerate bloodshed,' who will +then dare to assail us? No one! All enemies would be reconciled, submit +to each other, forgive everything, and justly divide among themselves +the abundance of the earth. Gracious God, when shall this dream be +fulfilled?" + +Whilst Romashov was indulging in these fancies, he failed to notice that +Hainán had quietly stolen in behind his back and suddenly stretched his +arm over his shoulder. Romashov started in terror, and roared out +angrily-- + +"What the devil do you want?" + +Hainán laid before him on the table a cinnamon-coloured packet. "This is +for you," he replied in a friendly, familiar tone, and Romashov felt +behind him his servant's jovial smile. "They are cigarettes; smoke now." + +Romashov looked at the packet. On it was printed, "The Trumpeter, +First-class Cigarettes. Price 3 kopecks for 20." + +"What does this mean?" he asked in astonishment. "Where did this come +from?" + +"I saw that you had no cigarettes, so I bought these with my own money. +Please smoke them. It is nothing. Just a little present." + +After this, to conceal his confusion, Hainán ran headlong to the door, +which he slammed after him with a deafening bang. Romashov lighted a +cigarette, and the room was soon filled with a perfume that strongly +reminded one of melted sealing-wax and burnt feathers. + +"Oh, you dear!" thought Romashov, deeply moved. "I get cross with you +and scold you and make you pull off my muddy boots every evening, and +yet you go and buy me cigarettes with your few last coppers. 'Please +smoke them.' What made you do it?" + +Again he got up and walked up and down the room with his hands behind +him. + +"Our company consists of at least a hundred men, and each of them is a +creature with thoughts, feelings, experience of life, personal +sympathies and antipathies. Do I know anything about them? No, nothing, +except their faces. I see them before me as they stand in line every +day, drawn up from right to left: Sóltyss, Riaboschápka, Yégoroff, +Yaschtschischin, etc., etc.--mere sorry, grey figures. What have I done +to bring my soul nearer to their souls, my Ego to theirs? Nothing." + +He involuntarily called to mind a rough night at the end of autumn, when +(as was his custom) he was sitting drinking in the mess-room with a few +comrades. Suddenly the pay-sergeant Goumeniuk, of the 9th Company, +rushed into the room, and breathlessly called to his commander-- + +"Your Excellency, the recruits are here." + +Yes, there they stood in the rain, in the barrack-yard, driven together +like a herd of frightened animals without any will of their own, which +with cowed, suspicious glances gazed at their tormentors. "Each +individual," thought Romashov, as he slowly and carefully inspected +their appearance, "has his own characteristic expression of countenance. +This one, for instance, is most certainly a smith; that is, doubtless, a +jolly chap who plays his accordion with some talent; that one with the +shrewd features can both read and write, and looks as if he were a +_polevói_."[8] And one felt that these poor recruits who, a few days +ago, had been violently seized whilst their wives and children were +crying and lamenting, had tried, with tears in their voices, to join in +the coarse songs of their wild, drunken brothers in misfortune. But a +year later they stood like soldiers in long rigid rows--grey, sluggish, +apathetic figures, all cast, as it were, in the same mould. But they +never left their homes of their own free will. Their Ego resented it. +And yet they went. Why all this inconsistency? How can one not help +thinking of that old and well-known story about the cock who fought +desperately with his wings and resisted to the uttermost when his beak +was pressed against a table, but who stood motionless, hypnotized, when +some one drew a thick line with a piece of chalk across the table from +the tip of his beak. + +Romashov threw himself on the bed. + +"What is there left for you to do under the circumstances?" he asked +himself in bitter mockery. "Do you think of resigning? But, in that +case, where do you think of going? What does the sum of knowledge amount +to that you have learnt at the infants' school, the Cadet School, at +the Military Academy, at mess? Have you tried the struggle and +seriousness of life? No, you have been looked after and your wants +supplied, as if you were a little child, and you think perhaps, like a +certain schoolgirl, that rolls grow on trees. Go out into the world and +try. At the very first step you would slip and fall; people would +trample you in the dust, and you would drown your misery in drink. And +besides, have you ever heard of an officer leaving the service of his +own free will? No, never. Just because he is unfit for anything he will +not give up his meagre bread-and-butter. And if any one is forced into +doing this, you will soon see him wearing a greasy old regimental cap, +and accepting alms from people in the street. I am a Russian officer of +gentle birth, _comprenez-vous_? Alas, where shall I go--what will become +of me?" + +"Prisoner, prisoner!" cried a clear female voice beneath the window. + +Romashov jumped up from his bed and rushed to the window. Opposite him +stood Shurochka. She was protecting her eyes from the sun with the palm +of her hand, and pressing her rosy face against the window pane, +exclaiming in a mocking tone:-- + +"Oh, give a poor beggar a copper!" + +Romashov fumbled at the window-catch in wild eagerness to open it, but +he remembered in the same moment that the inner window had not been +removed. With joyous resolution he seized the window-frame with both +hands, and dragged it to him with a tremendous tug. A loud noise was +heard, and the whole window fell into the room, besprinkling Romashov +with bits of lime and pieces of dried putty. The outer window flew up, +and a stream of fresh air, charged with joy and the perfume of flowers, +forced its way into the room. + +"Ha, at last! Now I'll go out, cost what it may," shouted Romashov in a +jubilant voice. + +"Romashov, you mad creature! what are you doing?" + +He caught her outstretched hand through the window; it was closely +covered by a cinnamon-coloured glove, and he began boldly to kiss it, +first upwards and downwards, and after that from the finger-tips to the +wrist. Last of all, he kissed the hole in the glove just below the +buttons. He was astonished at his boldness; never before had he ventured +to do this. Shurochka submitted as though unconscious to this passionate +burst of affection, and smilingly accepted his kisses whilst gazing at +him in shy wonderment. + +"Alexandra Petrovna, you are an angel. How shall I ever be able to thank +you?" + +"Gracious, Romochka! what has come to you? And why are you so happy?" +she asked laughingly as she eyed Romashov with persistent curiosity. +"But wait, my poor prisoner, I have brought you from home a splendid +_kalátsch_ and the most delicious apple puffs." + +"Stepan, bring the basket here." + +He looked at her with devotion in his eyes, and without letting go her +hand, which she allowed to remain unresistingly in his, he said +hurriedly-- + +"Oh, if you knew all I have been thinking about this morning--if you +only knew! But of this, later on." + +"Yes, later on. Look, here comes my lord and master. Let go my hand. How +strange you look to-day! I even think you have grown handsome." + +Nikoläiev now came up to the window. He frowned, and greeted Romashov +in a rather cool and reserved way. + +"Come, Shurochka," he said to his wife, "what in the world are you +thinking about? You must both be mad. Only think, if the Commander were +to see us. Good-bye, Romashov; come and see us." + +"Yes, come and see us, Yuri Alexievich," repeated Shurochka. She left +the window, but returned almost at once and whispered rapidly to +Romashov. "Don't forget us. You are the only man here whom I can +associate with--as a friend--do you hear? And another thing. Once for +all I forbid you to look at me with such sheep's eyes, remember that. +Besides, you have no right to imagine anything. You are not a coxcomb +yet, you know." + + + + +VII + + +At 3.30 p.m. Lieutenant Federovski, the Adjutant of the regiment, drove +up to Romashov's house. He was a tall, stately, and (as the ladies of +the regiment used to say) presentable young man, with freezingly cold +eyes and an enormous moustache that almost grazed his shoulder. Towards +the younger officers he was always excessively polite, but, at the same +time, officially correct in his conduct. He was not familiar with any +one, and had a very high opinion of himself and his position. Nearly all +the captains flattered and paid court to him. + +As he entered the door, he rapidly scanned with his blinking eyes the +whole of the scanty furniture in Romashov's room. The latter, who lay +resting on his bed, jumped off, and, blushing, began to button up his +undress tunic. + +"I am here by orders of the commander, who wishes to speak to you," said +Federovski in a dry tone. "Be good enough to dress and accompany me as +soon as possible." + +"I shall be ready at once. Shall I put on undress or parade uniform?" + +"Don't, please, stand on ceremony. A frock-coat, if you like, that would +be quite sufficient. Meanwhile, with your permission, I will take a +seat." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon--will you have some tea?" said Romashov fussily. + +"No, thanks. My time is short, and I must ask you to be as quick as +possible about changing your clothes." + +And without taking off his cloak or gloves, he sat down whilst Romashov +changed his clothes in nervous haste and with painful glances at his not +particularly clean shirt. Federovski sat the whole time with his hands +resting on the hilt of his sabre, as motionless as a stone image. + +"I suppose you do not happen to know why I am sent for?" + +The Adjutant shrugged his shoulders. + +"A singular question! How should I know? You ought to know the reason +better than I. But if I may give you a bit of friendly advice, put the +sabre-belt under--not over--the shoulder strap. The Colonel is, as you +are aware, particular about such matters. And now, if you please, we +will start." + +Before the steps stood a common _calèche_, attached to which were a +couple of high, lean army horses. Romashov was polite enough to encroach +as little as possible on the narrow seat, so as not to cause his +attendant any discomfort, but the latter did not, so it seemed, take the +slightest notice of that. On the way they met Viätkin; the latter +exchanged a chilly and correct salute with the Adjutant, but honoured +Romashov, who for a second turned round, with a comic but enigmatical +gesture that might probably mean: "Ah, poor fellow, you are on your way +to Pontius Pilate." They met other officers, some of whom regarded +Romashov with a sort of solemn interest, others with unfeigned +astonishment, and some bestowed on him only a derisive smile. Romashov +tried to avoid their glances and felt himself shrinking beneath them. + +The Colonel did not receive him at once. He had some one in his private +room. Romashov had to wait in a half-dark hall that smelt of apples, +naphtha, newly-polished furniture and, besides that, of something which +not at all unpleasantly reminded him of the odour which seems +particularly inseparable from clothes and furniture in well-to-do German +families that are pedantically careful about their goods and chattels. + +As he walked slowly up and down the hall, he glanced at himself several +times in a mirror in a light ashwood frame which was fixed to the wall; +and each time he looked his face struck him as being unhealthily pale, +ugly, and queer. His uniform, too, was shabby, and his epaulettes +soiled. + +Out in the hall might be heard the incessant rumbling of the Colonel's +deep bass voice. The words themselves could not be distinguished, but +the ferocious tone told the tale clearly enough that Colonel Shulgovich +was scolding some one with implacable and sustained rage. This went on +for about five minutes; after which Schulgovich suddenly became silent, +a trembling, supplicating voice succeeded his, and, after a moment's +pause, Romashov clearly heard the following frightful tirade uttered +with a terrible accent of pride, indignation, and contempt: + +"What nonsense is it that you dare to talk about your wife and your +children? What the devil have I to do with them? Before you brought your +children into the world you ought to have considered how you could +manage to feed them. What? So now you are trying to throw the blame on +your Colonel, are you? But it has nothing to do with him. You know too +well, Captain, that if I do not deliver you into the hands of justice I +shall fail in my duty as your commander. Be good enough not to +interrupt me. Here there is no question of an offence against +discipline, but a glaring crime, and _your_ place henceforward will +certainly not be in the regiment, but you yourself best know _where_." +Again he heard that miserable, beseeching voice, so pitiful that it did +not sound human. + +"Good Lord! what is it all about?" thought Romashov, who, as if he were +glued to the looking-glass, gazed at his pale face without seeing it, +and felt his heart throbbing painfully. "Good Lord! how horrible!" + +The plaintive, beseeching voice again replied, and spoke at some length. +When it ceased, the Colonel's deep bass began thundering, but now +evidently a trifle more calmly and gently than before, as if his rage +had spent itself, and his desire to witness the humiliation of another +were satisfied. + +Shulgovich said abruptly: "Engrave it for ever on your red nose. All +right! But this is the last time. Remember now! The last time! Do you +hear? If it ever comes to my ears that you have been drunk, +the--silence!--I know what you intend to say, but I won't hear any more +of your promises. In a week's time I shall inspect your company. You +understand? And as to the troops' pay, that matter must be settled +to-morrow. You hear? _To-morrow._ And now I shall not detain you longer, +Captain. I have the honour----" + +The last words were interrupted by a scraping on the floor, and a few +tottering steps towards the door; but, suddenly, the Colonel's voice was +again heard, though this time its wrathful and violent tone did not +sound quite natural. + +"Wait a moment! Come here, you devil's pepper-box! Where are you off +to? To the Jews, of course--to get a bill signed. Ah, you fool--you +blockhead! Here you are! One, two, three, four--three hundred. I can't +do more. Take them and be off with you. Pay me back when you can. What a +mess you have made of things, Captain! Now be off with you! Go to the +devil--your servant, sir!" + +The door sprang open, and into the hall staggered little Captain +Sviatovidov, red and perspiring, with harassed, nay, ravaged, features. +His right hand grasped convulsively his new, rustling bundle of +banknotes. He made a sort of pirouette directly he recognized Romashov, +tried, but failed miserably in the attempt, to assume a sportive, +free-and-easy look, and clutched tight hold of Romashov's fingers with +his hot, moist, trembling hand. His wandering, furtive glances rested at +last on Romashov as if he would ask the question: "Have you heard +anything or have you not?" + +"He's a tiger, a bloodhound!" he whispered, pointing to the door of the +Colonel's room; "but what the deuce does it matter?" Sviatovidov twice +crossed himself quickly. "The Lord be praised! the Lord be praised!" + +"Bon-da-ren-ko!" roared Shulgovich from his room, and his powerful voice +that moment filled every nook and corner of the house. "Bondarenko, who +is out there still? Bring him in." + +"Hold your own, my young lion," whispered Sviatovidov with a false +smile. "_Au revoir_, Lieutenant. Hope you'll have a good time." + +Bondarenko glided through the door. He was a typical Colonel's servant, +with an impudently condescending look, hair pomaded and parted in the +middle, dandified, with white gloves. He addressed Romashov in a +respectful tone, but eyed him, at the same time, in a very bold way. + +"His Excellency begs your Honour to step in." + +He opened the door and stepped aside. Romashov walked in. + +Colonel Shulgovich sat at a table in a corner of the room, to the left +of the door. He was wearing his fatigue tunic, under which appeared his +gleaming white shirt. His red, sinewy hands rested on the arm of his +easy chair. His unnaturally big, old face, with short tufts of hair on +the top of his head, and the white pointed beard, gave an impression of +a certain hardness and coldness. The bright colourless eyes gleamed +almost aggressively at the visitor, whose salutation was returned with a +brief nod. Romashov at that moment noticed a crescent-shaped ring in the +Colonel's ear, and thought to himself: "Strange that I never saw that +ring before." + +"This is very serious," began Shulgovich, in a gruff bass that seemed to +proceed from the depths of his diaphragm, after which he made a long +pause. "Shame on you!" he continued in a raised voice. "Because you've +served a year all but one week you begin to put on airs. Besides this, I +have many other reasons to be annoyed with you. For instance: I come to +the parade-ground and make a justifiable remark about you. At once you +are ready to answer your commanding officer in a silly, insolent manner. +Can that be called military tact and discipline? No. Such a thing is +incredible, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself." The latter words +were roared by Shulgovich with such deafening violence that his victim +felt a tremor under his knee-cap. + +Romashov looked gloomily away, and no power in the world, thought he, +should induce him to look at the Colonel straight in his basilisk face. + +"Where's my _Ego_ now?" he asked himself ironically. "Here the only +thing to do is to suffer, keep silent, and stand at attention." + +"It does not matter now how I obtained my information about you. It is +quite sufficient I know all your sins. _You drink._ You, a mere boy--a +callow creature that has but lately left school--swig schnapps like a +cobbler's apprentice. Hold your tongue, don't try to defend yourself, I +know everything--and much more than you think. Well, God forbid!--if you +are bent on going down the broad path you are welcome to do it, so far +as I'm concerned. Still, I'll give you a warning: drink has made more +than one of your sort acquainted with the inside of a prison. Lay these +words of mine to heart. My long-suffering is great, but even an angel's +patience can be exhausted. The officers of a regiment are mutually +related as members of one family; but don't forget that an unworthy +member who tarnishes the honour of the family is ruthlessly cast out." + +"Here I stand paralysed with fright, and my tongue is numbed," thought +Romashov, as he stared, as though hypnotized, at the little silver ring +in the Colonel's ear. "At this moment I ought to tell him straight out +that I do not in the least degree value the honour of belonging to this +worthy family, and that I shall be delighted to leave it to enter the +reserves; but have I the courage to say so?" His lips moved, he found a +difficulty in swallowing, but he stood still, as he had throughout the +interview. + +"But let us," continued Shulgovich in the same harsh tone, "examine more +closely your conduct in the past. In the previous year--practically as +soon as you entered the service, you requested leave on account of your +mother's illness, nay, you even produced a sort of letter about it. +Well, in such cases an officer cannot, you know, openly express his +doubts as to the truth of a comrade's word. But I take this opportunity +of telling you in private that I had my own opinion then about that +story. You understand?" + +Romashov had for a long time felt a tremor in his right knee. This +tremor was at first very slight, in fact scarcely noticeable, but it +very soon assumed alarming proportions, and finally extended over the +whole of his body. This feeling grew very painful at the thought that +Shulgovich might possibly regard his nervousness as proceeding from +fear; but when his mother's name was mentioned, a consuming heat coursed +through Romashov's veins, and his intense nervous tremor ceased +immediately. For the first time during all this painful scene he raised +his eyes to his torturer and looked him defiantly straight in the face. +And in this look glittered a hatred, menace, and imperious lust of +vengeance from the insulted man, so intense and void of all fear that +the illimitable distance between the omnipotent commander and the +insignificant sub-lieutenant, who had no rights at all, was absolutely +annihilated. A mist arose before Romashov's eyes, the various objects in +the room lost their shape, and the Colonel's gruff voice sounded to him +as if from a deep abyss. Then there suddenly came a moment of darkness +and ominous silence, devoid of thoughts, will, or external perception, +nay, even without consciousness. He experienced only a horrible +certainty that, in another moment, something terrible and maniacal, +something irretrievably disastrous, would happen. A strange, unfamiliar +voice whispered in his ear: "Next moment I will kill him," and Romashov +was slowly but irresistibly forced to fix his eyes on the Colonel's bald +head. + +Afterwards, as if in a dream, he became aware, although he could not +understand the reason, of a curious change in his enemy's eyes, which, +in rapid succession, reflected wonder, dread, helplessness, and pity. +The wave of destruction that had just whelmed through Romashov's soul, +by the violence of natural force, subsided, sank, and disappeared in +space. He tottered, and now everything appeared to him commonplace and +uninteresting. Shulgovich, in nervous haste, placed a chair before him, +and said, with unexpected but somewhat rough kindness-- + +"The Devil take you! what a touchy fellow you are! Sit down and be +damned to you! But you are all alike. You look at me as if I were a wild +beast. 'The old fossil goes for us without rhyme or reason.' And all the +time God knows I love you as if you were my own children. Do you think I +have nothing to put up with, either? Ah, gentlemen, how little you know +me! It is true I scold you occasionally, but, damn it all! an old fellow +has a right to be angry sometimes. Oh, you youngsters! Well, let us make +peace. Give me your hand and come to dinner." + +Romashov bowed without uttering a syllable, and pressed the coarse, +cold, hairy hand. His recollection of the past insult to some extent +faded, but his heart was none the lighter for this. He remembered his +proud, inflated fancies of that very morning, and he now felt like a +little pale, pitiful schoolboy, like a shy, abandoned, scarcely +tolerated brat, and he thought of all this with shame and +mortification. Also, whilst accompanying Shulgovich to the dining-room, +he could not help addressing himself, as his habit was, in the third +person-- + +"And a shadow rested on his brow." + +Shulgovich was childless. In the dining-room, his wife--a fat, coarse, +self-important, and silent woman--awaited him. She had not a vestige of +neck, but displayed a whole row of chins. Notwithstanding her +_pince-nez_ and her scornful mien, there was a certain air of vulgarity +about her countenance, which gave the impression of its being formed, at +the last minute, hurriedly and negligently, out of dough, with raisins +or currants instead of eyes. Behind her waddled, dragging her feet, the +Colonel's old mother--a little deaf, but still an active, domineering, +venomous old hag. While she closely and rudely examined Romashov over +her spectacles, she clawed hold of his fingers and coolly pressed to his +lips her black, shrivelled, bony hand, that reminded one most of an +anatomical specimen. This done, she turned to the Colonel and asked him, +just as if they had been absolutely alone in the dining-room-- + +"Who is this? I don't remember seeing him here before?" + +Shulgovich formed his hands into a sort of speaking-tube, and bawled +into the old woman's ear: + +"Sub-lieutenant Romashov, mamma. A capital officer, a smart fellow, and +an ornament to his regiment--comes from the Cadet School. By the way, +Sub-lieutenant," he exclaimed abruptly, "we are certainly from the same +province. Aren't you from Pevsa?"[9] + +"Yes, Colonel, I was born in Pevsa." + +"To be sure, to be sure; now I remember. You are from the Narovtschátski +district?" + +"Quite right, Colonel." + +"Ah, yes--how could I have forgotten it! Mamma," he again trumpeted into +his mother's ear, "mamma, Sub-lieutenant Romashov is from our province; +he's from Narovtschátski." + +"Ah, ah," and the old woman raised her eyebrows as a sign that she +understood. "Well, then, you're, of course, a son of Sergei Petrovich +Shishkin?" + +"No, dear mother," roared the Colonel, "you are wrong. His name is +Romashov, not Shishkin." + +"Yes, didn't I say so? I never knew Sergei Petrovich except by hearsay; +but I often met Peter Petrovich. He was a charming young man. We were +near neighbours, and I congratulate you, my young friend, on your +relationship." + +"Well, as you will have it, you old deaf-as-a-post," exclaimed the +Colonel, interrupting her with good-humoured cynicism." But now, let's +sit down; please take a seat, Sub-lieutenant. Lieutenant Federovski," he +shrieked towards the door, "stop your work and come and have a +schnapps." The Adjutant, who, according to the custom in many regiments, +dined every day with his chief, hurriedly entered the dining-room. He +clicked his spurs softly and discreetly, walked straight up to the +little majolica table with the _sakuska_,[10] calmly helped himself to a +schnapps, and ate with extreme calmness and enjoyment. Romashov noticed +all that with an absurd, envious feeling of admiration. + +"You'll take one, won't you?" said Shulgovich to Romashov. "You're no +teetotaller, you know." + +"No, thank you very much," replied Romashov hoarsely; and, with a slight +cough, "I do not usually----" + +"Bravo, my young friend. Stick to that in future." + +They sat down to table. The dinner was good and abundant. Any one could +observe that, in this childless family, both host and hostess had an +innocent little weakness for good living. Dinner consisted of chicken +soup with vegetables, roast bream with _kascha_,[11] a splendid fat duck +and asparagus. On the table stood three remarkable decanters containing +red wine, white wine, and madeira, resplendent with embossed silver +stoppers bearing elegant foreign marks. The Colonel, whose violent +explosion of wrath but a short time previously had evidently given him +an excellent appetite, ate with an elegance and taste that struck the +spectator with pleasure and surprise. He joked all the time with a +certain rough humour. When the asparagus was put on the table, he +crammed a corner of his dazzlingly white serviette well down under his +chin, and exclaimed in a lively way-- + +"If I were the Tsar, I would eat asparagus every day of my life." + +Only once, at the fish course, he fell into his usual domineering tone, +and shouted almost harshly to Romashov-- + +"Sub-lieutenant, be good enough to put your knife down. Fish and cutlets +are eaten only with a fork. An officer must know how to eat properly; he +may, at any time, you know, be invited to the palace. Don't forget +that." + +Romashov was uncomfortable and constrained the whole time. He did not +know what to do with his hands, which, for the most part, he kept under +the table plaiting the fringe of the tablecloth. He had long got out of +the habit of observing what was regarded as "good form" in an elegant +and wealthy house. And, during the whole time he was at table, one sole +thought tortured him: "How disagreeable this is, and what weakness and +cowardice on my part not to have the courage to refuse this humiliating +invitation to dinner. Now I shall not stand this any longer. I'll get up +and bow to the company, and go my way. They may think what they please +about it. They can hardly eat me up for that--nor rob me of my soul, my +thoughts, my consciousness. Shall I go?" And again he was obliged to +acknowledge to himself, with a heart overflowing with pain and +indignation, that he lacked the moral courage necessary to assert his +individuality and self-respect. + +Twilight was falling when at last coffee was served. The red, slanting +beams of the setting sun filtered in through the window blinds, and +sportively cast little copper-coloured spots or rays on the dark +furniture, on the white tablecloth, and the clothes and countenances of +those present. Conversation gradually languished. All sat silent, as +though hypnotized by the mystic mood of the dying day. + +"When I was an ensign," said Shulgovich, breaking the silence, "we had +for the chief of our brigade a General named Fofanov. He was just one of +those gentle and simple old fogies who had risen from the ranks during a +time of war, and, as I believe, belonged at the start to what we call +Kantonists.[12] I remember how at reviews he always went straight up to +the big drum--he was insanely enamoured of that instrument--and said to +the drummer, 'Come, come, my friend, play me something really +melancholy.' This same General had also the habit of going to bed +directly the clock struck eleven. When the clock was just on the stroke +of the hour, he invariably said to his guests, 'Well, well, gentlemen, +eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves, but I'm going to throw myself into the +arms of Neptune.' Somebody once remarked, 'Your Excellency, you mean the +arms of Morpheus?' 'Oh, that's the same thing. They both belong to the +same mineralogy.' Well, that's just what I am going to do, gentlemen." + +Shulgovich got up and placed his serviette on the arm of his chair. "I, +too, am going to throw myself into the arms of Neptune. I release you, +gentlemen." + +Both officers got up and stretched themselves. "A bitter, ironical smile +played on his thin lips," thought Romashov about himself--only +_thought_, however, for at that moment his countenance was pale, +wretched, and by no means prepossessing to look at. + +Once more Romashov was on his way home, and once more he felt himself +lonely, abandoned, and helpless in this gloomy and hostile place. Once +more the sun flamed in the west, amidst heavy, dark blue thunder-clouds, +and once more before Romashov's eyes, in the distance, behind houses and +fields, at the verge of the horizon, there loomed a fantastic fairy city +beckoning to him with promises of marvellous beauty and happiness. + +The darkness fell suddenly between the rows of houses. A few little +Jewish children ran, squealing, along the path. Here and there in +doorways, in the embrasures of windows, and in the dusk of gardens there +were sounds of women's laughter, provocative and unintermittent, and +with a quiver of warm animalistic gladness which is heard only when +spring is near. With the deep yet calm melancholy that now lay heavy on +Romashov's heart there were mingled strange, dim memories of a bliss +miraged but never enjoyed in youth's still lovelier spring, and there +arose in his heart a delicious presentiment of a strong, invincible love +that at last gained its object. + +When Romashov reached his abode he found Hainán in his dark and dirty +cupboard in front of Pushkin's bust. The great bard was smeared all over +with grease, and before him burning candles cast bright blurs on the +statue's nose, its thick lips and muscular neck. Hainán sat, in the +Turkish style, cross-legged on the three boards that constituted his +bed, rocked his body to and fro, and mumbled out in a sing-song tone +something weird, melancholy, and monotonous. + +"Hainán," shouted Romashov. + +The servant started, jumped up, and stood at attention. Fear and +embarrassment were displayed on his countenance. + +"Allah?" asked Romashov in the most friendly way. + +The Circassian's shaven boyish mouth expanded in a broad grin which +showed his beautiful white teeth in the candle-light. + +"Allah, your Honour." + +"It is all the same, Hainán. Allah is in you. Allah is in me. There is +one Allah for us all." + +"My excellent Hainán," thought Romashov to himself as he went into his +room. "And I dare not shake hands with him. Dare not! Damn it all! from +to-day I will dress and undress myself. It's a disgrace that some one +else should do it for me." + +That evening he did not go to the mess-room, but stayed at home and +brought out of a drawer a thick, ruled book, nearly entirely filled with +elegant, irregular handwriting. He wrote far into the night. It was the +third in order of Romashov's novels, and its title ran: _A Fatal +Beginning_. + +But our lieutenant blushed furiously at his literary efforts, and he +would not have been induced for anything in the world to acknowledge his +authorship. + + + + +VIII + + +Barracks had just begun to be built for the garrison troops on what was +called the "Cattle Square," outside the town, on the other side of the +railway. Meanwhile the companies were quartered here and there in the +town. The officers' mess-room was situated in a rather small house. The +drawing-room and ballroom had their windows over the street. The other +rooms, the windows of which overlooked a dark, dirty backyard, were set +apart for kitchen, dining-room, billiard-room, guest-chamber, and +ladies'-room. A long narrow corridor with doors to all the rooms in the +house ran the whole length of the building. In the rooms that were +seldom used, and not often cleaned or aired, a musty, sour smell greeted +the visitor as he entered. + +Romashov reached the mess at 9 p.m. Five or six unmarried officers had +already assembled for the appointed soirée, but the ladies had not yet +arrived. For some time past there had been a keen rivalry amongst the +latter to display their acquaintance with the demands of fashion, +according to which it was incumbent on a lady with pretensions to +elegance scrupulously to avoid being among the first to reach the +ballroom. The musicians were already in their places in a sort of +gallery that was connected with the room by means of a large window +composed of many panes of glass. Three-branched candelabra on the +pillars between the windows shed their radiance, and lamps were +suspended from the roof. The bright illumination on the scanty +furniture, consisting only of Viennese chairs, the bare walls, and the +common white muslin window-curtains, gave the somewhat spacious room a +very empty and deserted air. + +In the billiard-room the two Adjutants of the battalion, Biek-Agamalov +and Olisár--the only count in the regiment--were engaged in a game of +"Carolina." The stakes were only ale. Olisár--tall, gaunt, sleek, and +pomaded--an "old, young man" with wrinkled face and bald crown, +scattered freely billiard-room jests and slang. Biek-Agamalov lost both +his game and his temper in consequence. In the seat by the window sat +Staff-Captain Lieschtschenko--a melancholy individual of forty-five, an +altogether miserable figure, the mere sight of which could bore people +to death--watching the game. His whole appearance gave the impression of +hopeless melancholy. Everything about him was limp: his long, fleshy, +wrinkled red nose; his dim, dark-brown thread-like moustache that +reached down below his chin. His eyebrows, which grew a good way down to +the bridge of his nose, made his eyes look as if he were just about to +weep, and his thin, lean body with his sunken chest and sloping +shoulders looked like a clothes-horse in its worn and shiny uniform. +Lieschtschenko neither smoked, drank, nor played; but he found a strange +pleasure in looking at the cards from behind the players' backs, and in +following the movements of the balls in the billiard-room. He likewise +delighted in listening, huddled up in a dining-room window, to the row +and vulgarities of the wildest drinking-bouts. He could thus sit, for +hours at a time, motionless as a stone statue, and without uttering a +single word. All the officers were so accustomed to this that they +almost regarded the silent Lieschtschenko as one of the inevitable +fixtures of a normal gambling or drinking bout. + +After saluting the three officers, Romashov sat down by Lieschtschenko, +who courteously made room for him, as with a deep sigh he fixed his +sorrowful and friendly, dog-like eyes on him. + +"How is Maria Viktorovna?" asked Romashov in the careless and +intentionally loud voice which is generally employed in conversation +with deaf or rather stupid people, and which all the regiment (including +the ensigns) used when they happened to address Lieschtschenko. + +"Quite well, thanks," replied Lieschtschenko with a still deeper sigh. +"You understand--her nerves; but, you know, at this time of year----" + +"But why did she not come with you? But perhaps Maria Viktorovna is not +coming to the soirée to-night?" + +"What do you mean? of course she's coming; but you see, my dear fellow, +there was no room for me in the cab. She and Raisa Peterson took a trap +between them, and as you'll understand, my dear fellow, they said to me, +'Don't come here with your dirty, rough boots, they simply ruin our +clothes.'" + +"Croisez in the middle--a nice 'kiss.' Pick up the ball, Biek," cried +Olisár. + +"I am not a lackey. Do you think I'll pick up your balls?" replied +Biek-Agamalov in a furious tone. + +Lieschtschenko caught in his mouth the tips of his long moustaches, and +thereupon began sucking and chewing them with an extremely thoughtful +and troubled air. + +"Yuri Alexievich, my dear fellow, I have a favour to ask you," he +blurted out at last in a shy and deprecating tone. "You lead the dance +to-night, eh?" + +"Yes, damn it all! They have so arranged it among themselves. I did try +to get off it, kow-towed to the Adjutant--ah, pretty nearly reported +myself ill. 'In that case,' said he, 'you must be good enough to hand in +a medical certificate.'" + +"This is what I want you to do for me," Lieschtschenko went on in the +same humble voice. "For God's sake see that she does not have to sit out +many dances." + +"Maria Viktorovna?" + +"Yes, please----" + +"Double with the yellow in the corner," said Biek-Agamalov, indicating +the stroke he intended to make. Being short, he often found billiards +very troublesome. To reach the ball now he was obliged to lie lengthways +on the table. He became quite red in the face through the effort, and +two veins in his forehead swelled to such an extent that they converged +at the top of his nose like the letter V.[13] + +"What a conjurer!" said Olisár in a jeering, ironical tone. "I could not +do that." + +Agamalov's cue touched the ball with a dry, scraping sound. The ball did +not move from its place. + +"Miss!" cried Olisár jubilantly, as he danced a _cancan_ round the +billiard table. "Do you snore when you sleep, my pretty creature?" + +Agamalov banged the thick end of his cue on the floor. + +"If you ever again speak when I am making a stroke," he roared, his +black eyes glittering, "I'll throw up the game." + +"Don't, whatever you do, get excited. It's so bad for your health. Now +it's my turn." + +Just at that moment in rushed one of the soldiers stationed in the hall +for the service of the ladies, and came to attention in front of +Romashov. + +"Your Honour, the ladies would like you to come into the ballroom." + +Three ladies who had just arrived were already pacing up and down the +ballroom. They were none of them exactly young; the eldest of them, the +wife of the Club President--Anna Ivanovna Migunov--turned to Romashov +and exclaimed in a prim, affected tone, drawling out the words and +tossing her head: + +"Sub-lieutenant Romashov, please order the band to play something whilst +we are waiting." + +"With pleasure, ladies," replied Romashov with a polite bow. He then +went up to the orchestra and called to the conductor, "Zisserman, play +us something pretty." + +The first thundering notes of the overture to "Long live the Tsar" +rolled through the open windows of the music gallery across the +ballroom, and the flames of the candelabra vibrated to the rhythm of the +drum beats. + +The ladies gradually assembled. A year ago, Romashov had felt an +indescribable pleasure in those very minutes before the ball when, in +accordance with his duties as director of the ball, he received the +ladies as they arrived in the hall. Oh, what mystic witchery those +enchantresses possessed when, fired by the strains of the orchestra, by +the glare of many lights, and by the thought of the approaching ball, +they suffered themselves, in delicious confusion, to be divested of +their boas, fur cloaks, wraps, etc. Women's silvery laughter, +high-pitched chatter, mysterious whispers, the freezing perfume from +furs covered with hoar-frost, essences, powder, kid gloves, etc. All +this commingled constituted the mystic, intoxicating atmosphere that is +only found where beautiful women in evening dress crowd one another +immediately before entering a ballroom. What a charm in their lovely +eyes, beaming with the certainty of victory, that cast a last, swift, +scrutinizing glance in the mirror at their hair! What music in the +_frou-frou_ of trains and silken skirts! What bliss in the touch of +delicate little hands, shawls, and fans! + +All this enchantment, Romashov felt, had now ceased for ever. He now +understood, and not without a certain sense of shame, that much of this +enchantment had owed its origin to the perusal of bad French novels, in +which occurred the inevitable description of how "Gustave and Armand +cross the vestibule when invited to a ball at the Russian Embassy." He +also knew that the ladies of his regiment wore for years the same +evening dress, which, on certain festive occasions, was pathetically +remodelled, and that the white gloves very often smelt of benzine. The +generally prevailing passion for different sorts of aigrettes, scarves, +sham diamonds, feathers, and ribbons of loud and gaudy colours, struck +him as being highly ridiculous and pretentious. The same lack of taste +and shabby-genteel love of display were shown even in their homes. They +"made up" shamelessly, and some faces by this means had acquired a +bluish tint; but the most unpleasant part of the affair, in Romashov's +opinion, was what he and others in the regiment, on the day after the +ball, discovered as having happened behind the scenes--gossip, +flirtations, and big and little scandals. And he also knew how much +poverty, envy, love of intrigue, petty provincial pride, and low +morality were hidden behind all this splendid misery. + +Now Captain Taliman and his wife entered the room. They were both tall +and compact. She was a delicate, fragile blonde; he, dark, with the face +of a veritable brigand, and affected with a chronic hoarseness and +cough. Romashov knew beforehand that Taliman would very soon whisper his +usual phrase, and, sure enough, the latter directly afterwards +exclaimed, as his gipsy eyes wandered spy-like over the ballroom-- + +"Have you started cards yet, Lieutenant?" + +"No, not yet, they are all together in the dining-room." + +"Ah, really, do you know, Sonochka, I think I'll go into the dining-room +for a minute just to glance at the _Russki Invalid_. And you, my dear +Romashov, kindly look after my wife here for a bit--they are starting +the quadrille there." + +After this the Lykatschev family--a whole caravan of pretty, laughing, +lisping young ladies, always chattering--made its appearance. At the +head walked the mother, a lively little woman, who, despite her forty +years, danced every dance, and brought children into the world "between +the second and third quadrille," as Artschakovski, the wit of the +regiment, liked to put it. + +The young ladies instantly threw themselves on Romashov, laughing and +chattering in the attempt to talk one another down. + +"Lieutenant Romashov, why do you never come to thee uth?" + +"You wicked man!" + +"Naughty, naughty, naughty!" + +"Wicked man!" + +"I will give you the firtht quadwille." + +"Mesdames, mesdames," said Romashov in self-defence, bowing and scraping +in all directions, and forced against his will to do the polite. + +At that very moment he happened to look in the direction of the street +door. He recognized, silhouetted against the glass, Raisa Alexandrovna's +thin face and thick, prominent lips, which, however, were almost hidden +by a white kerchief tied over her hat. + +Romashov, like a schoolboy caught in the act, slipped into the +reception-room as quick as lightning, but however much he might try to +convince himself that he escaped Raisa's notice, he felt a certain +anxiety. In his quondam mistress's small eyes lay a new expression, +hard, menacing, and revengeful, that foreboded a bad time for him. + +He walked into the dining-room, where a crowd of officers were +assembled. Nearly all the chairs round the long oilcloth-covered table +were engaged. The blue tobacco smoke curled slowly along the roof and +walls. A rancid smell of fried butter emanated from the kitchen. Two or +three groups of officers had already made inroads on the cold collation +and schnapps. A few were reading the newspapers. A loud, multitudinous +murmur of voices blended with the click of billiard balls, the rattle of +knives, and the slamming of the kitchen door. A cold, unpleasant draught +from the vestibule caught one's feet and legs. + +Romashov looked for Lieutenant Bobetinski and went to him. + +Bobetinski was standing, with his hands in his trousers pockets, quite +near the long table. He was rocking backwards and forwards, first on +his toes, then on his heels, and his eyes were blinking from the smoke. +Romashov gently touched his arm. + +"I beg your pardon!" said Bobetinski as he turned round and drew one +hand out of his pocket; but he continued peering with his eyes, +squinting at Romashov, and screwing his moustache with a superior air +and his elbows akimbo. "Ha! it is you? This is very delightful!" + +He always assumed an affected, mincing air, and spoke in short, broken +sentences, thinking, by so doing, that he imitated the aristocratic +Guardsmen and the _jeunesse dorée_ of St. Petersburg. He had a very high +opinion of himself, regarded himself as unsurpassed as a dancer and +connoisseur of women and horses, and loved to play the part of a _blasé_ +man of the world, although he was hardly twenty-four. He always shrugged +his shoulders coquettishly high, jabbered horrible French, pattered +along the streets with limp, crooked knees and trailing gait, and +invariably accompanied his conversation with careless, weary gestures. + +"My good Peter Taddeevich," implored Romashov in a piteous voice, "do, +please, conduct the ball to-night instead of me." + +"_Mais, mon ami_"--Bobetinski shrugged his shoulders, raised his +eyebrows, and assumed a stupid expression. "But, my friend," he +translated into Russian, "why so? _Pourquoi donc?_ Really, how shall I +say it? You--you astonish me." + +"Well, my dear fellow, please----" + +"Stop! No familiarities, if you please. My dear fellow, indeed!" + +"But I beg you, Peter Taddeevich. You see, my head aches, and I have a +pain in my throat; it is absolutely impossible for me to----" + +In this way Romashov long and fruitlessly assailed his brother officer. +Finally, as a last expedient, he began to deluge him with gross +flattery. + +"Peter Taddeevich, there is no one in the whole regiment so capable as +yourself of conducting a ball with good taste and genius, and, moreover, +a lady has specially desired----" + +"A lady!" Bobetinski assumed a blank, melancholy expression. "A lady, +did you say? Ah, my friend, at my age----" he smiled with a studied +expression of hopeless resignation. "Besides, what is woman? Ha, ha! an +enigma. However, I'll do what you want me to do." And in the same +doleful tone he added suddenly, "_Mon cher ami_, do you happen to +have--what do you call it--three roubles?" + +"Ah, no, alas!" sighed Romashov. + +"Well, one rouble, then?" + +"But----" + +"_Désagréable._ The old, old story. At any rate, I suppose we can take a +glass of vodka together?" + +"Alas, alas! Peter Taddeevich, I have no further credit." + +"Oh! _O pauvre enfant!_ But it does not matter, come along!" Bobetinski +waved his hand with an air of magnanimity. "I will treat you." + +Meanwhile, in the dining-room the conversation had become more and more +high-pitched and interesting for some of those present. The talk was +about certain officers' duels that had lately taken place, and opinions +were evidently much divided. + +The speaker at that moment was Artschakovski, a rather obscure +individual who was suspected, not without reason, of cheating at cards. +There was a story current about him, which was whispered about, to the +effect that, before he entered the regiment, when he still belonged to +the reserves, he had been head of a posting-station, and was arrested +and condemned for killing a post-boy by a blow of his fist. + +"Duels may often be necessary among the fools and dandies of the +Guards," exclaimed Artschakovski roughly, "but it is not the same thing +with us. Let us assume for an instance that I and Vasili Vasilich Lipski +get blind drunk at mess, and that I, who am a bachelor, whilst drunk, +box his ears. What will be the result? Well, either he refuses to +exchange a couple of bullets with me, and is consequently turned out of +the regiment, or he accepts the challenge and gets a bullet in his +stomach; but in either case his children will die of starvation. No, all +that sort of thing is sheer nonsense." + +"Wait a bit," interrupted the old toper, Lieutenant-Colonel Liech, as he +held his glass with one hand and with the other made several languid +motions in the air; "do you understand what the honour of the uniform +is? It is the sort of thing, my dear fellow, which---- But speaking of +duels, I remember an event that happened in 1862 in the Temriukski +Regiment." + +"For God's sake," exclaimed Artschakovski, interrupting him in turn, +"spare us your old stories or tell us something that took place after +the reign of King Orre." + +"What cheek! you are only a little boy compared with me. Well, as I was +saying----" + +"Only blood can wipe out the stain of an insult," stammered Bobetinski, +who plumed himself on being a cock, and now took part in the +conversation in a bragging tone. + +"Well, gentlemen, there was at that time a certain ensign--Solúcha," +said Liech, making one more attempt. + +Captain Osadchi, commander of the 1st Company, approached from the +buffet. + +"I hear that you are talking about duels--most interesting," he began in +a gruff, rolling bass that reminded one of a lion's roar, and +immediately drowned every murmur in the room. "I have the honour, +Lieutenant-Colonel. Good-evening, gentlemen." + +"Ah! what do I see--the Colossus of Rhodes? Come and sit down," replied +Liech affably. "Come and have a glass with me, you prince of giants." + +"All right," answered Osadchi in an octave lower. + +This officer always had a curiously unnerving effect on Romashov, and at +the same time aroused in him a mingled feeling of fear and curiosity. +Osadchi was no less famous than Shulgovich, not only in the regiment but +also in the whole division, for his deafening voice when giving the word +of command, his gigantic build, and tremendous physical strength. He was +also renowned for his remarkable knowledge of the service and its +requirements. Now and then it even happened that Osadchi was, in the +interests of the service, removed from his own regiment to another, and +he usually succeeded, in the course of half a year, in turning the most +backward, good-for-nothing troops into exemplary war-machines. His magic +power seemed much more incomprehensible to his brother officers inasmuch +as he never--or at least in very rare instances--had recourse to blows +or insults. Romashov always thought he could perceive, behind those +handsome, gloomy, set features, the extreme paleness of which was thrown +into stronger relief by the bluish-black hair, something strained, +masterly, alluring, and cruel--a gigantic, bloodthirsty wild beast. +Often whilst observing Osadchi unseen from a distance, Romashov would +try to imagine what the man would be like if he were in a rage, and, at +the very thought of it, his limbs froze with fear. And now, without a +thought of protesting, he saw how Osadchi, with the careless calm that +enormous physical strength always lends, coolly sat down on the seat +intended for himself. + +Osadchi drained his glass, nibbled a crisp radish, and said in a tone of +indifference-- + +"Well, what is the verdict?" + +"That story, my dear friend," Liech put in, "I will tell you at once. It +was at the time when I was serving in the Temriukski Regiment, a +Lieutenant von Zoon--the soldiers called him 'Pod-Zvoon'--who, on a +certain occasion, happened to be at mess----" + +Here, however, Liech was interrupted by Lipski, a red-faced, thick-set +staff captain who, in spite of his good forty years, did not think it +beneath him to be the Jack-pudding in ordinary and butt of the men, and +by virtue thereof had assumed the insolent, jocular tone of a spoilt +favourite. + +"Allow me, Captain, to put the matter in a nutshell. Lieutenant +Artschakovski says that duels are nothing but madness and folly. For +such heresy he ought to be sent with a bursary to a seminary for +priests--but enough of that. But to get on with the story, Lieutenant +Bobetinski took up the debate and demanded _blood_. Then came +Lieutenant-Colonel Liech with his hoary chestnuts, which, on that +occasion, by a wonderful dispensation of Providence, we managed to +escape. After that, Sub-lieutenant Michin tried, in the midst of the +general noise, to expound his views, which were more and more +undistinguishable both from the speaker's insufficient strength of lungs +and his well-known bashfulness." + +Sub-lieutenant Michin--an undersized youth with sunken chest, dark, +pock-marked, freckled face and two timid, almost frightened +eyes--blushed till the tears came into his eyes. + +"Gentlemen, I only--gentlemen, I may be mistaken," he said, "but, in my +opinion--I mean in other words, as I look at the matter, every +particular case ought necessarily to be considered by itself." He now +began to bow and stammer worse and worse, at the same time grabbing +nervously with the tips of his fingers at his invisible moustaches. "A +duel may occasionally be useful, even necessary, nobody can deny, and I +suppose there is no one among us who will not approach the lists--when +honour demands it. That is, as I have said, indisputable; but, +gentlemen, sometimes the highest honour might also be found in--in +holding out the hand of reconciliation. Well, of course, I cannot now +say on what occasions this----" + +"Ugh! you wretched Ivanovich," exclaimed Artschakovski, interrupting him +in a rude and contemptuous tone, "don't stand here mumbling. Go home to +your dear mamma and the feeding-bottle." + +"Gentlemen, won't you allow me to finish what I was going to say?" + +But Osadchi with his powerful bass voice put a stop to the dispute. In a +second there was silence in the room. + +"Every duel, gentlemen, must, above all, end in death for at least one +of the parties, otherwise it is _absurd_. Directly coddling or humanity, +so-called, comes in, the whole thing is turned into a farce. 'Fifteen +paces distance and only one shot.' How damnably pitiful! Such a +deplorable event only happens in such tomfooleries as are called French +duels, which one reads about, now and then, in our papers. They meet, +each fires a bullet out of a toy pistol, and the thing is over. Then +come the cursed newspaper hacks with their report on the duel, which +invariably winds up thus: 'The duel went off satisfactorily. Both +adversaries exchanged shots without inflicting any injury on either +party, and both displayed the greatest courage during the whole time. At +the breakfast, after the champagne, both the former mortal enemies fell +into each other's arms, etc.' A duel like that, gentlemen, is nothing +but a scandal, and does nothing to raise the tone of our society." + +Several of the company tried to speak at once. Liech, in particular, +made a last despairing attack on those present to finish his story: + +"Well, well, my friends, it was like this--but listen, you puppies." + +Nobody, however, did listen to his adjurations, and his supplicating +glances wandered in vain over the gathering, seeking for a deliverer and +ally. All turned disrespectfully away, eagerly engrossed in that +interesting subject, and Liech shook his head sorrowfully. At last he +caught sight of Romashov. The young officer had the same miserable +experience as his comrades with regard to the old Lieutenant-Colonel's +talents as a story-teller, but his heart grew soft, and he determined to +sacrifice himself. Liech dragged his prey away with him to the table. + +"This--well--come and listen to me, Ensign. Ah, sit here and drink a +glass with me. All the others are mere asses and loons." Liech, with +considerable difficulty, raised his languid arm and made a contemptuous +gesture towards the group of officers. "Buzz, buzz, buzz! What +understanding or experience is there amongst such things? But wait a +bit, you shall hear." + +Glass in one hand, the other waving in the air as if he were the +conductor of a big orchestra, Liech began one of his interminable +stories with which he was larded--like sausages with liver--and which he +never brought to a conclusion because of an endless number of +divagations from the subject, parentheses, embroideries, and analogues. +The anecdote in question was about an American duel, Heaven only knows +how many years ago, between two officers who, playing for their lives, +guessed odd and even on the last figure of a date on a rouble-note. But +one of them--it was never quite cleared up as to whether it was a +certain Pod-Zvoon or his friend Solúcha--was blackguard enough to paste +together two rouble-notes of different dates of issue, whereby the front +had always an even date, but the back an odd one--"or perhaps it was the +other way about," pondered Liech long and conscientiously. "You see, my +dear fellow, they of course then began to dispute. One of them said----" + +Alas, however, Liech did not even this time get to the end of his story. +Madame Raisa Alexandrovna Peterson had glided into the buffet. Standing +at the door, but not entering, which was, moreover, not permitted to +ladies, she shouted with the roguishness and audacity of a privileged +young lady: + +"Gentlemen, what do I see? The ladies have arrived long ago, and here +you are sitting and having a good old time. We want to dance." + +Two or three young officers arose to go into the ballroom. The rest +coolly remained sitting where they were, chatting, drinking, and +smoking, without taking the slightest notice of the coquettish lady. +Only Liech, the chivalrous old professional flirt, strutted up with +bandy, uncertain legs to Raisa, with hands crossed over his chest--and +pouring the contents of his glass over his uniform, cried with a drunken +emotion: + +"Most divine among women, how can any one forget his duties to a queen +of beauty? Your hand, my charmer; just one kiss----" + +"Yuri Alexievich," Raisa babbled, "it's your turn to-day to arrange the +dancing. You are a nice one to do that." + +"_Mille pardons, madame. C'est ma faute._ This is my fault," cried +Bobetinski, as he flew off to her. On the way he improvised a sort of +ballet with scrapes, bounds, genuflections, and a lot of wonderful +attitudes and gestures. "Your hand. _Votre main, madame._ Gentlemen, to +the ballroom, to the ballroom!" + +He offered his arm to Raisa Alexandrovna, and walked out of the room as +proud as a peacock. Directly afterwards he was heard shouting in his +well-known, affected tone: + +"_Messieurs_, take partners for a waltz. Band! a waltz!" + +"Excuse me, Colonel, I am obliged to go now. Duty calls me," said +Romashov. + +"Ah, my dear fellow," replied Liech, as his head drooped with a dejected +look--"are you, too, such a coxcomb as the others? But wait just a +moment, Ensign; have you heard the story of Moltke--about the great +Field-Marshal Moltke, the strategist?" + +"Colonel, on my honour, I must really go--I----" + +"Well, well, don't get excited. I won't be long. You see, it was like +this: the great Man of Silence used to take his meals in the officers' +mess, and every day he laid in front of him on the table a purse full of +gold with the intention of bestowing it on the first officer from whose +lips he heard a single intelligent word. Well, at last, you know, the +old man died after having borne with this world for ninety years, +but--you see--the purse had always been in safe keeping. Now run along, +my boy. Go and hop about like a sparrow." + + + + +IX + + +In the ballroom, the walls of which seemed to vibrate in the same rhythm +as the deafening music, two couples were dancing. Bobetinski, whose +elbows flapped like a pair of wings, pirouetted with short, quick steps +around his partner, Madame Taliman, who was dancing with the stately +composure of a stone monument. The gigantic Artschakovski of the fair +locks made the youngest of the Lykatschev girls, a little thing with +rosy cheeks, rotate round him, whereas he, leaning forward, and closely +observing his partner's hair and shoulders, moved his legs as if he were +dancing with a child. Fifteen ladies lined the walls quite deserted, and +trying to look as if they did not mind it. As, which was always the case +at these soirées, the gentlemen numbered less than a quarter of the +ladies, the prospect of a lively and enjoyable evening was not +particularly promising. + +Raisa Alexandrovna, who had just opened the ball, and was, therefore, +the object of the other ladies' envy, was now dancing with the slender, +ceremonious Olisár. He held one of her hands as if it had been fixed to +his left side. She supported her chin in a languishing way against her +other hand, which rested on his right shoulder. She kept her head far +thrown back in an affected and unnatural attitude. When the dance was +over she sat purposely near Romashov, who was leaning against the +doorpost of the ladies' dressing-room. She fanned herself violently, and +looking up to Olisár, who was leaning over her, lisped in a soft +_dolcissimo_: + +"Tell me, Count, tell me, please, why do I always feel so hot? Do tell +me." + +Olisár made a slight bow, clicked his spurs, stroked his moustache +several times. + +"Dear lady, that is a question which I don't think even Martin Sadek +could answer." + +When Olisár cast a scrutinizing glance at the fair Raisa's _décolleté_ +bosom, pitiable and bare as the desert itself, she began at once to +breathe quickly and deeply. + +"Ah, I have always an abnormally high temperature," Raisa Alexandrovna +went on to say with a significant expression, insinuating by her smile +that her words had a double meaning. "I suffer, too, from an unusually +fiery temperament." + +Olisár gave vent to a short, soft chuckle. + +Romashov stood looking sideways at Raisa, thinking with disgust, "Oh, +how loathsome she is." And at the thought that he had once enjoyed her +favours, he experienced the sensation as if he had not changed his linen +for months. + +"Well, well, Count, don't laugh. Perhaps you do not know that my mother +was a Greek?" + +"And how horribly she speaks, too," thought Romashov. "Curious that I +never noticed this before. It sounds as if she had a chronic cold or a +polypus in her nose--'by buther was a Greek.'" + +Now Raisa turned to Romashov and threw him a challenging glance. + +Romashov mentally said, "His face became impassive like a mask." + +"How do you do, Yuri Alexievich? Why don't you come and speak to me?" +Romashov went up to her. With a venomous glance from her small, sharp +eyes she pressed his hand. The pupils of her eyes stood motionless. + +"At your desire I have kept the third quadrille for you. I hope you have +not forgotten that." + +Romashov bowed. + +"You are very polite! At least you might say _Enchanté, madame!_" +("Edchadté, badabe" was what Romashov heard.) "Isn't he a blockhead, +Count?" + +"Of course, I remember," mumbled Romashov insincerely. "I thank you for +the great honour." + +Bobetinski did nothing to liven up the evening. He conducted the ball +with an apathetic, condescending look, just as if he was performing, +from a strict sense of duty, something very distasteful and +uninteresting to himself, but of infinite importance to the rest of +mankind. When, however, the third quadrille was about to begin, he got, +as it were, a little new life, and, as he hurried across the room with +the long gliding steps of a skater, he shouted in a loud voice: + +"_Quadrille monstre! Cavaliers, engagez vos dames!_" + +Romashov and Raisa Alexandrovna took up a position close to the window +of the music gallery, with Michin and Madame Lieschtschenko for their +_vis-à-vis_. The latter hardly reached up to her partner's shoulders. +The number of dancers had now very noticeably increased, and the couples +stood up for the third quadrille. Every dance had therefore to be +repeated twice. + +"There must be an explanation; this must be put a stop to," thought +Romashov, almost deafened by the noise of the big drums and the braying +brass instruments in his immediate proximity. "I have had enough! 'And +in his countenance you could read fixed resolution.'" + +The "dancing-masters" and those who arranged the regimental balls had +preserved by tradition certain fairly innocent frolics and jokes for +such soirées, which were greatly appreciated by the younger dancers. For +instance, at the third quadrille it was customary, as it were +accidentally, by changing the dances, to cause confusion among the +dancers, who with uproar and laughter did their part in increasing the +general disorder. Bobetinski's device that evening consisted in the +gentlemen pretending to forget their partners and dancing the figure by +themselves. Suddenly a "galop all round" was ordered, the result of +which was a chaos of ladies and gentlemen rushing about in fruitless +search for their respective partners. + +"_Mesdames, avancez--pardon, reculez._ Gentlemen, alone. +_Pardon--balancez avec vos dames!_" + +Raisa Alexandrovna kept talking to Romashov in the most virulent tone +and panting with fury, but smiling all the while as if her conversation +was wholly confined to pleasant and joyous subjects. + +"I will not allow any one to treat me in such a manner, do you hear? I +am not a good-for-nothing girl you can do as you like with. Besides, +decent people don't behave as you are behaving." + +"Raisa Alexandrovna, for goodness' sake try to curb your temper," begged +Romashov in a low, imploring tone. + +"Angry with you? No, sir, that would be to pay you too high a +compliment. I despise you, do you hear? Despise you; but woe to him who +dares to play with my feelings! You left my letter unanswered. How dare +you?" + +"But your letter did not reach me, I assure you." + +"Ha! don't try to humbug me. I know your lies, and I also know where you +spend your time. Don't make any mistake about that. + +"Do you think I don't know this woman, this Lilliput queen, and her +intrigues? Rather, you may be sure of that," Raisa went on to say. "She +fondly imagines she's a somebody; yes, she does! Her father was a +thieving notary." + +"I must beg you, in my presence, to express yourself in a more decent +manner in regard to my friends," interrupted Romashov sharply. + +Then and there a painful scene occurred. Raisa stormed and broke out in +a torrent of aspersions on Shurochka. The fury within her had now the +mastery; her artificial smiles were banished, and she even tried to +drown the music by her snuffly voice. Romashov, conscious of his +impotence to try to put in a word in defence of the grossly insulted +Shurochka, was distracted with shame and wrath. In addition to this were +the intolerable din of the band and the disagreeable attention of the +bystanders, which his partner's unbridled fury was beginning to attract. + +"Yes, her father was a common thief; she has nothing to stick her nose +in the air about and she ought, to be sure, to be very careful not to +give herself airs!" shrieked Raisa. "And for a thing like that to dare +to look down on us! We know something else about her, too!" + +"I implore you!" whispered Romashov. + +"Don't make any mistake about it; both you and she shall feel my claws. +In the first place, I shall open her husband's eyes--the eyes of that +fool Nikoläiev, who has, for the third time, been 'ploughed' in his +exam. But what else can one expect from a fool like that, who does not +know what is going on under his nose? And it is certainly no longer any +secret who the lover is." + +"_Mazurka générale! Promenade!_" howled Bobetinski, who at that moment +was strutting through the room with the pomp of an archangel. + +The floor rocked under the heavy tramping of the dancers, and the muslin +curtains and coloured lamps moved in unison with the notes of the +mazurka. + +"Why cannot we part as friends?" Romashov asked in a shy tone. He felt +within himself that this woman not only caused him indescribable +disgust, but also aroused in his heart a cowardice he could not subdue, +and which filled him with self-contempt. "You no longer love me; let us +part good friends." + +"Ha! ha! You're frightened; you're trying to cut my claws. No, my fine +fellow. I am not one of those who are thrown aside with impunity. It is +I, mind you, who throw aside one who causes me disgust and loathing--not +the other way about. And as for your baseness----" + +"That's enough; let's end all this talk," said Romashov, interrupting +her in a hollow voice and with clenched teeth. + +"Five minutes' _entr'acte_. _Cavaliers, occupez vos dames!_" shouted +Bobetinski. + +"I'll end it when I think fit. You have deceived me shamefully. For you +I have sacrificed all that a virtuous woman can bestow. It is your fault +that I dare not look my husband in the face--my husband, the best and +noblest man on earth. It's you who made me forget my duties as wife and +mother. Oh, why, why did I not remain true to him!" + +Romashov could not, however, now refrain from a smile. Raisa +Alexandrovna's innumerable amours with all the young, new-fledged +officers in the regiment were an open secret, and both by word of mouth +and in her letters to Romashov she was in the habit of referring to her +"beloved husband" in the following terms: "my fool," or "that despicable +creature," or "this booby who is always in the way," etc., etc. + +"Ah, you have even the impudence to laugh," she hissed; "but look out +now, sir, it is my turn." + +With these words she took her partner's arm and tripped along, with +swaying hips and smiling a vinegary smile on all sides. When the dance +was over her face resumed its former expression of hatred. Again she +began to buzz savagely--"like an angry wasp," thought Romashov. + +"I shall never forgive you this, do you hear? _Never._ I know the reason +why you have thrown me over so shamelessly and in such a blackguardly +fashion; but don't fondly imagine that a new love-intrigue will be +successful. No; never, as long as I live, shall that be the case. +Instead of acknowledging in a straightforward and honourable way that +you no longer love me, you have preferred to cloak your treachery and +treat me like a vulgar harlot, reasoning, I suppose, like this: 'If it +does not come off with the other, I always have her, you know.' Ha! ha! +ha!" + +"All right, you may perhaps allow me to speak decently," began Romashov, +with restrained wrath. His face grew paler and paler, and he bit his +lips nervously. "You have asked for it, and now I tell you straight. I +do _not_ love you." + +"Oh, what an insult!" + +"I have never loved you; nor did you love me. We have both played an +unworthy and false game, a miserable, vulgar farce with a nauseous plot +and disgusting _rôles_. Raisa Alexandrovna, I have studied you, and I +know you, very likely, better than you do yourself. You lack every +requisite of love, tenderness, nay, even common affection. The cause of +it is your absolutely superficial character, your narrow, petty outlook +on life. And, besides" (Romashov happened to remember at this point +Nasanski's words), "only elect, refined natures can know what a great or +real love is." + +"Such elect, refined natures, for instance, as your own." + +Once more the band thundered forth. Romashov looked almost with hatred +at the trombone's wide, shining mouth, that, with the most cynical +indifference, flung out its hoarse, howling notes over the whole of the +room. And its fellow-culprit--the poor soldier who, with the full force +of his lungs, gave life to the instrument--was with his bulging eyes and +blue, swollen cheeks, no less an object of his dislike and disgust. + +"Don't let us quarrel about it. It is likely enough that I am not worthy +of a great and real love, but we are not discussing that now. The fact +is that you, with your narrow, provincial views and silly vanity, must +needs always be surrounded by men dancing attendance on you, so that you +may be able to boast about it to your lady friends in what you are +pleased to call 'Society.' And possibly you think I have not understood +the purpose of your ostentatiously familiar manner with me at the +regimental soirées, your tender glances, etc., the intimately +dictatorial tone you always assume when we are seen together. Yes, +precisely the chief object was that people should notice the +free-and-easy way in which you treated me. Except for this all your game +would not have had the slightest meaning, for no real love or affection +on my part has ever formed part of your--programme." + +"Even if such had been the case I might well have chosen a better and +more worthy object than you," replied Raisa, in a haughty and scornful +tone. + +"Such an answer from _you_ is too ridiculous to insult me; for, listen, +I repeat once more, your absurd vanity demands that some slave should +always be dancing attendance on you. But the years come and go, and the +number of your slaves diminishes. Finally, in order not to be entirely +without admirers, you are forced to sacrifice your plighted troth, your +duties as wife and mother." + +"No; but that's quite sufficient. You shall most certainly hear from +me," whispered Raisa, in a significant tone and with glittering eyes. + +At that moment, Captain Peterson came across the room with many absurd +skips and shuffles in order to avoid colliding with the dancers. He was +a thin, consumptive man with a yellow complexion, bald head, and black +eyes, in the warm and moist glance of which lurked treachery and malice. +It was said of him that, curiously enough, he was to such an extent +infatuated with his wife that he played the part of intimate friend, in +an unctuous and sickening way, with all her lovers. It was likewise +common knowledge that he had tried by means of acrimonious perfidy and +the most vulgar intrigues to be revenged on every single person who had, +with joy and relief, turned his back on the fair Raisa's withered +charms. + +He smiled from a distance at his wife and Romashov with his bluish, +pursed lips. + +"Are you dancing, Romashov? Well, how are you, my dear Georgi? Where +have you been all this time? My wife and I were so used to your company +that we have been quite dull without you." + +"Been awfully busy," mumbled Romashov. + +"Ah, yes, we all know about those military duties," replied Captain +Peterson, with a little insinuating whistle that was directly changed +into an amicable smile. His black eyes with their yellow pupils +wandered, however, from Raisa to Romashov inquisitively. + +"I have an idea that you two have been quarrelling. Why do you both look +so cross? What has happened?" + +Romashov stood silent whilst he gazed, worried and embarrassed, at +Raisa's skinny, dark, sinewy neck. Raisa answered promptly, with the +easy insolence she invariably displayed when lying: + +"Yuri Alexievich is playing the philosopher. He declares that dancing is +both stupid and ridiculous, and that he has seen his best days." + +"And yet he dances?" replied the Captain, with a quick, snake-like +glance at Romashov. "Dance away, my children, and don't let me disturb +you." + +He had scarcely got out of earshot before Raisa Alexandrovna, in a +hypocritical, pathetic tone, burst out with, "And I have deceived this +saint, this noblest of husbands. And for whom?--Oh, if he knew all, if +he only knew!" + +"_Mazurka générale_," shrieked Bobetinski. "Gentlemen, resume your +partners." + +The violently perspiring bodies of the dancers and the dust arising from +the parquet floor made the air of the ballroom close, and the lights in +the lamps and candelabra took a dull yellow tint. The dancing was now in +full swing, but as the space was insufficient, each couple, who every +moment squeezed and pushed against one another, was obliged to tramp on +the very same spot. This figure--the last in the quadrille--consisted in +a gentleman, who was without a partner, pursuing a couple who were +dancing. If he managed to come face to face with a lady he clapped her +on the hand, which meant that the lady was now his booty. The lady's +usual partner tried, of course, to prevent this, but by this arose a +disorder and uproar which often resulted in some very brutal incidents. + +"Actress," whispered Romashov hoarsely, as he bent nearer to Raisa. +"You're as pitiable as you are ridiculous." + +"And you are drunk," the worthy lady almost shrieked, giving Romashov at +the same time a glance resembling that with which the heroine on the +stage measures the villain of the piece from head to foot. + +"It only remains for me to find out," pursued Romashov mercilessly, "the +exact reason why I was chosen by you. But this, however, is a question +which I can answer myself. You gave yourself to me in order to get a +hold on me. Oh, if this had been done out of love or from sentiment +merely! But you were actuated by a base vanity. Are you not frightened +at the mere thought of the depths into which we have both sunk, without +even a spark of love that might redeem the crime? You must understand +that this is even more wretched than when a woman sells herself for +money. Then dire necessity is frequently the tempter. But in this +case--the memory of this senseless, unpardonable crime will always be +to me a source of shame and loathing." + +With cold perspiration on his forehead and distraction in his weary +eyes, he gazed on the couples dancing. Past him--hardly lifting her feet +and without looking at her partner--sailed the majestic Madame Taliman, +with motionless shoulders and an ironical, menacing countenance, as if +she meant to protect herself against the slightest liberty or insult. +Epifanov skipped round her like a little frisky goat. Then glided little +Miss Lykatschev, flushed of face, with gleaming eyes, and bare, white, +virginal bosom. Then came Olisár with his slender, elegant legs, +straight and stiff as a sparrow's. Romashov felt a burning headache and +a strong, almost uncontrollable desire to weep; but beside him still +stood Raisa, pale with suppressed rage. With an exaggerated theatrical +gesture she fired at him the following sarcasm-- + +"Did any one ever hear such a thing before? A Russian Infantry +lieutenant playing the part of the chaste Joseph? Ha, ha, ha!" + +"Yes, quite so, my lady. Precisely that part," replied Romashov, glaring +with wrath. "I know too well that it is humiliating and ridiculous. +Nevertheless, I am not ashamed to express my sorrow that I should have +so degraded myself. With our eyes open we have both flung ourselves into +a cesspool, and I know that I shall never again deserve a pure and noble +woman's love. Who is to blame for this? Well, you. Bear this well in +mind--you, you, you--for you were the older and more experienced of us +two, especially in affairs of that sort." + +Raisa Alexandrovna got up hurriedly from her chair. "That will do," she +replied in a dramatic tone. "You have got what you wanted. _I hate +you._ I hope henceforward you will cease to visit a home where you were +received as a friend and relation, where you were entertained and fed, +and where, too, you were found out to be the scoundrel you are. Oh, that +I had the courage to reveal everything to my husband--that incomparable +creature, that saint whom I venerate. Were he only convinced of what has +happened he would, I think, know how to avenge the wounded honour of a +helpless, insulted woman. He would kill you." + +Romashov looked through his eyeglass at her big, faded mouth, her +features distorted by hate and rage. The infernal music from the open +windows of the gallery continued with unimpaired strength; the +intolerable bassoon howled worse than ever, and, thought Romashov, the +bass drum had now come into immediate contact with his brain. + +Raisa shut her fan with a snap that echoed through the ballroom. "Oh, +you--lowest of all blackguards on earth," whispered she, with a +theatrical gesture, and then disappeared into the ladies' retiring-room. + +All was now over and done with, but Romashov did not experience the +relief he expected. This long-nourished hope to feel his soul freed from +a heavy, unclean burthen was not fulfilled. His strict, avenging +conscience told him that he had acted in a cowardly, low, and boorish +way when he cast all the blame on a weak, narrow, wretched woman who, +most certainly at that moment, in the ladies'-room, was, through him, +shedding bitter, hysterical tears of sorrow, shame, and impotent rage. + +"I am sinking more and more deeply," thought he, in disgust at himself. +What had his life been? what had it consisted of? An odious and wanton +_liaison_, gambling, drinking, soul-killing, monotonous regimental +routine, with never a single inspiriting word, never a ray of light in +this black, hopeless darkness. Salutary, useful work, music, art, +science, where were they? + +He returned to the dining-room. There he met Osadchi and his friend +Viätkin, who with much trouble was making his way in the direction of +the street door. Liech, now quite drunk, was helplessly wobbling in +different directions, whilst in a fuddled voice he kept asserting that +he was--an archbishop. Osadchi intoned in reply with the most serious +countenance and a low, rolling bass, whilst carefully following the +ecclesiastical ritual-- + +"Your high, refulgent Excellency, the hour of burial has struck. Give us +your blessing, etc." + +As the soirée approached its end, the gathering in the dining-room grew +more noisy and lively. The room was already so full of tobacco smoke +that those sitting at opposite sides of the table could not recognize +each other. Cards were being played in one corner; by the window a small +but select set had assembled to edify one another by racy stories--the +spice most appreciated at officers' dinners and suppers. + +"No, no, no, gentlemen," shrieked Artschakovski, "allow me to put in a +word. You see it was this way: a soldier was quartered at the house of a +_khokhol_[14] who had a pretty wife. Ho, ho, thought the soldier, that +is something for me." + +Then, however, he was interrupted by Vasili Vasilievich, who had been +waiting long and impatiently-- + +"Shut up with your old stories, Artschakovski. You shall hear this. Once +upon a time in Odessa there----" + +But even he was not allowed to speak very long. The generality of the +stories were rather poor and devoid of wit, but, to make up for that, +they were interspersed with coarse and repulsive cynicisms. Viätkin, who +had now returned from the street, where he had been paying his respects +to Liech's "interment" and holy "departure," invited Romashov to sit +down at the table. + +"Sit you here, my dear Georginka.[15] We will watch them. To-day I am as +rich as a Jew. I won yesterday, and to-day I shall take the bank again." + +Romashov only longed to lighten his heart, for a friend to whom he might +tell his sorrow and his disgust at life. After draining his glass he +looked at Viätkin with beseeching eyes, and began to talk in a voice +quivering with deep, inward emotion. + +"Pavel Pavlich, we all seem to have completely forgotten the existence +of another life. _Where_ it is I cannot say; I only know that it exists. +Even in that men must struggle, suffer, and love, but that life is +rich--rich in great thoughts and noble deeds. For here, my friend, what +do you suppose our life is, and how will such a miserable existence as +ours end some day?" + +"Well, yes, old fellow--but it's life," replied Viätkin in a sleepy way. +"Life after all is--only natural philosophy and energy. And what is +energy?" + +"Oh, what a wretched existence," Romashov went on to say with increasing +emotion, and without listening to Viätkin. "To-day we booze at mess +till we are drunk; to-morrow we meet at drill--'one, two, left, +right'--in the evening we again assemble round the bottle. Just the +same, year in, year out. That's what makes up our life. How disgusting!" + +Viätkin peered at him with sleepy eyes, hiccoughed, and then suddenly +started singing in a weak falsetto:-- + + "In the dark, stilly forest + There once dwelt a maiden, + She sat at her distaff + By day and by night. + +"Take care of your health, my angel, and to the deuce with the rest. + +"Romashevich! Romaskovski! let's go to the board of green cloth. I'll +lend you a----" + +"No one understands me, and I have not a single friend here," sighed +Romashov mournfully. The next moment he remembered Shurochka--the +splendid, high-minded Shurochka, and he felt in his heart a delicious +and melancholy sensation, coupled with hopelessness and quiet +resignation. + +He stayed in the mess-room till daybreak, watched them playing schtoss, +and now and then took a hand at the game, yet without feeling the +slightest pleasure or interest in it. Once he noticed how Artschakovski, +who was playing at a little private table with two ensigns, made rather +a stupid, but none the less successful, attempt to cheat. Romashov +thought for a moment of taking up the matter and exposing the fraud, but +checked himself suddenly, saying to himself: "Oh, what's the use! I +should not improve matters by interfering." + +Viätkin, who had lost, in less than five minutes, his boasted +"millions," sat sleeping on a chair, with his eyes wide open and his +face as white as a sheet. Beside Romashov sat the eternal Lieschtschenko +with his mournful eyes fixed on the game. Day began to dawn. The +guttering candle-ends' half-extinguished, yellowish flames flickered +dully in their sticks, and illumined by their weak and uncertain light +the pale, emaciated features of the gamblers. But Romashov kept staring +at the cards, the heaps of silver and notes, and the green cloth +scrawled all over with chalk; and in his heavy, weary head the same +cruel, torturing thoughts of a worthless, unprofitable life ran +incessantly. + + + + +X + + +It was a splendid, though somewhat chilly, spring morning. The hedges +were in bloom. Romashov, who was still, as a rule, a slave to his +youthful, heavy sleep, had, as usual, overslept himself, and was late +for the morning drill. With an unpleasant feeling of shyness and +nervousness, he approached the parade-ground, and his spirits were not +cheered by the thought of Captain Sliva's notorious habit of making a +humiliating and painful situation still worse by his abuse and rudeness. + +This officer was a survival of the barbaric times when an iron +discipline, idiotic pedantry--parade march in three time--and inhuman +martial laws were virtually epidemic. Even in the 4th Regiment, which, +from being quartered in a God-forsaken hole, seldom came into contact +with civilization, and, moreover, did not bear the reputation for much +culture, Captain Sliva was looked upon as a rough and boorish person, +and the most incredible anecdotes were current about him. Everything +outside the company, service, and drill-book, and which he was +accustomed to call "rot" or "rubbish," had no existence so far as he was +concerned. After having borne for nearly all his life the heavy burden +of military service, he had arrived at such a state of savagery that he +never opened a book, and, as far as newspapers were concerned, he only +looked at the official and military notices in the _Invalid_. He +despised with all his innate cynicism the meetings and amusements of +society, and there were no oaths, no insulting terms too gross and crude +for him to incorporate in his "Soldier's Lexicon." One story about him +was that one lovely summer evening, when sitting at his open window, +occupied, as usual, with his registers and accounts, a nightingale began +to warble. Captain Sliva got up instantly, and shouted in a towering +rage to his servant Sachartschuk, "Get a stone and drive away that +damned bird; it's disturbing me." + +This apparently sleepy and easy-going man was unmercifully severe to the +soldiers, whom he not only abandoned to the ferocity of the "non-coms.," +but whom he himself personally whipped till they fell bleeding to the +ground; but in all that concerned their food, clothing, and pay, he +displayed the greatest consideration and honesty, and in this he was +only surpassed by the commander of the 5th Company. + +To the junior officers Captain Sliva was always harsh and stiff, and a +certain native, crabbed humour imparted an additional sharpness to his +biting sarcasms. If, for instance, a subaltern officer happened, during +the march, to step out with the wrong foot, he instantly bellowed-- + +"Damnation! What the devil are you doing? All the company _except_ +Lieutenant N. is marching with the wrong foot!" + +He was particularly rude and merciless on occasions when some young +officer overslept himself or, for some other cause, came too late to +drill, which not unfrequently was the case with Romashov. + +Captain Sliva had a habit then of celebrating the victim's advent by +forming the whole company into line, and, in a sharp voice, commanding +"Attention!" After this he took up a position opposite the front rank, +and in death-like silence waited, watch in hand and motionless, while +the unpunctual officer, crushed with shame, sought his place in the +line. Now and then Sliva increased the poor sinner's torture by putting +to him the sarcastic question: "Will your Honour allow the company to go +on with the drill?" For Romashov he had, moreover, certain dainty +phrases specially stored up, e.g. "I hope you slept well," or "Your +Honour has, I suppose, as usual, had pleasant dreams?" etc., etc. When +all these preludes were finished, he began to shower abuse and +reproaches on his victim. + +"Oh, I don't care," thought Romashov to himself in deep disgust as he +approached his company. "It is no worse to be here than in other places. +All my life is ruined." + +Sliva, Viätkin, Lbov, and the ensign were standing in the middle of the +parade-ground, and all turned at once to Romashov as he arrived. Even +the soldiers turned their heads towards him, and with veritable torture +Romashov pictured to himself what a sorry figure he cut at that moment. + +"Well, the shame I am now feeling is possibly unnecessary or excessive," +he reasoned to himself, trying, as is habitual with timid or bashful +persons, to console himself. "Possibly that which seems so shameful and +guilty to me is regarded by others as the veriest trifle. Suppose, for +instance, that it was Lbov, not I, who came too late, and that I am now +in the line and see him coming up. Well, what more--what is there to +make a fuss about? Lbov comes--that's all it amounts to. How stupid to +grieve and get uncomfortable at such a petty incident, which within a +month, perhaps even in a week, will be forgotten by all here present. +Besides, what is there in this life which is not forgotten?" Romashov +remarked as he finished his argument with himself, and felt in some +degree calm and consoled. + +To every one's astonishment this time Sliva spared Romashov from +personal insults, nay, he even seemed not to have noticed him in the +least. When Romashov went up to him and saluted, with his heels together +and his hand at his cap, he only said, pointing his red, withered +fingers, which strongly resembled five little cold sausages: + +"I must beg you, Sub-lieutenant, to remember that it is your duty to be +with your company _five_ minutes before the senior subaltern officers, +and _ten_ minutes before the chief of your company." + +"I am very sorry, Captain," replied Romashov in a composed tone. + +"That's all very well, Sub-lieutenant, but you are always asleep and you +seem to have quite forgotten the old adage: 'He who is seldom awake must +go about shabby.' And I must now ask you, gentlemen, to retire to your +respective companies." + +The whole company was split up into small groups, each of which was +instructed in gymnastics. The soldiers stood drawn up in open file at a +distance of a pace apart, and with their uniforms unbuttoned in order to +enable them to perform their gymnastic exercises. Bobyliev, the smart +subaltern officer stationed in Romashov's platoon, cast a respectful +glance at his commander, who was approaching, his lower jaw stuck out +and his eyes squinting, and giving orders in a resonant voice-- + +"Hips steady. Rise on your toes. Bend your knees." + +And directly after that, very softly and in a sing-song voice-- + +"Begin." + +"One," sang out the soldiers in unison, and they simultaneously +performed in slow time the order to bend the knees till the whole +division found itself on its haunches. + +Bobyliev, who likewise performed the same movement, scrutinized the +soldiers with severe, critical, and aggressive eyes. Immediately beside +him cried the little spasmodic corporal, Syeroshtán, in his sharp, +squeaky voice that reminded one of a cockerel squabbling for food-- + +"Stretch your arms to the right--and left--salute. Begin, one, two, one, +two," and directly afterwards ten smart young fellows were heard yelling +at the top of their voices the regulation-- + +"_Haú, haú, haú._" + +"Halt," shouted Syeroshtán, red of face from rage and over-exertion. +"La-apschin, you great ass, you toss about, give yourself airs, and +twist your arm like some old woman from Riasan--_choú_, _choú_. Do the +movements properly, or by all that's unholy I'll----" + +After this the subalterns led their respective divisions at quick march +to the gymnastic apparatus, which had been set up in different parts of +the parade-ground. Sub-lieutenant Lbov--young, strong, and agile, and +also an expert gymnast--threw down his sabre and cap, and ran before the +others to one of the bars. Grasping the bar with both his hands, after +three violent efforts he made a somersault in the air, threw himself +forward and finally landed himself on all fours two yards and a half +from the bar. + +"Sub-lieutenant Lbov, at your everlasting circus tricks again," shrieked +Captain Sliva in a tone meant to be severe. In his heart the old warrior +cherished a sneaking affection for Lbov, who was a thoroughly efficient +soldier, and, by his brave bearing, invaluable at parades. "Be good +enough to observe the regulation, and keep the other thing till Carnival +comes round." + +"Right, Captain!" yelled Lbov in reply; "but I shan't obey," he +whispered to Romashov with a wink. + +The 4th platoon exercised on the inclined ladder. The soldiers walked in +turn to the ladder, gripped hold of the steps, and climbed up them with +arms bent. Shapovalenko stood below and made remarks-- + +"Keep your feet still. Up with your soles." + +The turn now came to a little soldier in the left wing, whose name was +Khliabnikov, who served as a butt to the entire company. Whenever +Romashov caught sight of him, he wondered how this emaciated, sorry +figure, in height almost a dwarf, whose dirty little beardless face was +but a little larger than a man's fist, could have been admitted into the +army. And when he met Khliabnikov's soulless eyes, which looked as if +they had expressed nothing but a dull submissive fear ever since he was +born, he felt in his heart a heavy, oppressive feeling of disgust and +prick of conscience. + +Khliabnikov hung motionless on the ladder like a dead, shapeless mass. + +"Take a grip and raise yourself on your arms, you miserable dog!" +shrieked the sergeant. "Up with you, I say." + +Khliabnikov made a violent effort to show his obedience, but in vain. He +remained in the same position, and his legs swung from side to side. For +the space of a second he turned downwards and sideways his ashen grey +face, in which the dirty little turned-up nose obstinately turned +upwards. Suddenly he let go of the ladder and fell like a sack to the +ground. + +"Ho, ho, you refuse to obey orders, to make the movement you were +ordered to do," roared the sergeant; "but a scoundrel like you shall not +destroy discipline. Now you shall----" + +"Shapovalenko, don't touch him!" shouted Romashov, beside himself with +anger and shame. "I forbid you to strike him now and always." Romashov +rushed up and pulled the sergeant's arm. + +Shapovalenko instantaneously became stiff and erect, and raised his hand +to his cap. In his eyes, which at once resumed their ordinary lifeless +expression, and on his lips there gleamed a faint mocking smile. + +"I will obey, your Honour, but permit me to report that that fellow is +utterly impossible." + +Khliabnikov took his place once more in the ranks. He looked lazily out +of the corner of his eyes at the young officer, and stroked his nose +with the back of his hand. Romashov turned his back on him and went off, +meditating painfully over this fruitless pity, to inspect the 3rd +platoon. + +After the gymnastics the soldiers had ten minutes' rest. The officers +forgathered at the bars, almost in the middle of the exercise-ground. +Their conversation turned on the great May parade, which was +approaching. + +"Well, it now remains for us to guess where the shoe pinches," began +Sliva, as he swung his arms, and opened wide his watery blue eyes, "for +I'll tell you one thing, every General has his special little hobby. I +remember we once had a Lieutenant-General Lvovich for the commander of +our corps. He came to us direct from the Engineers. The natural +consequence was we never did anything except dig and root up earth. +Drill, marching, and keeping time--all such were thrown on the +dust-heap. From morning to night we built cottages and quarters--in +summer, of earth; in winter, of snow. The whole regiment looked like a +collection of clodhoppers, dirty beyond recognition. Captain Aleinikov, +the commander of the 10th Company--God rest his soul!--became a Knight +of St. Anne, because he had somehow constructed a little redoubt in two +hours." + +"That was clever of him," observed Lbov. + +"Wait, I have more to remind you of. You remember, Pavel Pavlich, +General Aragonski and his everlasting gunnery instructions?" + +"And the story of Pontius Pilate," laughed Viätkin. + +"What was that?" asked Romashov. + +Captain Sliva made a contemptuous gesture with his hand. + +"At that time we did nothing but read Aragonski's 'Instructions in +Shooting.' One day it so happened that one of the men had to pass an +examination in the Creed. When the soldier got to the clause 'suffered +under Pontius Pilatus,' there was a full stop. But the fellow did not +lose his head, but went boldly on with a lot of appropriate excerpts +from Aragonski's 'Instructions in Shooting,' and came out with flying +colours. Ah, you may well believe, those were grand times for idiocy. +Things went so far that the first finger was not allowed to retain its +good old name, but was called the 'trigger finger,' etc., etc." + +"Do you remember, Athanasi Kirillich, what cramming and +theorizing--'range,' elevation, etc.--went on from morning to night? If +you gave the soldier a rifle and said to him: 'Look down the barrel. +What do you see there?' you got for an answer: 'I see a tense line which +is the gun's axis,' etc. And what practice in shooting there was in +those days, you remember, Athanasi Kirillich!" + +"_Do_ I remember! The shooting in our division was the talk of the whole +country, ah, even the foreign newspapers had stories about it. At the +shooting competitions regiments borrowed 'crack' shots from each other. +Down at the butts stood young officers hidden behind a screen, who +helped the scoring by their revolvers. On another occasion it so +happened that a certain company made more hits in the target than could +be accounted for by the shots fired, whereupon the ensign who was +marking got severely 'called over the coals.'" + +"Do you recollect the Schreiberovsky gymnastics in Slesarev's time?" + +"Rather! It was like a ballet. Ah, may the devil take all those old +Generals with their hobbies and eccentricities. And yet, gentlemen, all +that sort of thing--all the old-time absurdities, were as nothing +compared with what is done in our days. It might be well said that +discipline has received its quietus. The soldier, if you please, is now +to be treated 'humanely.' He is our 'fellow-creature,' our 'brother'; +his 'mind is to be developed,' he is to be taught 'to think,' etc., etc. +What absolute madness! No, he shall have a thrashing, the scoundrel. And +oh, my saintly Suvorov, tell me if a single individual nowadays knows +how a soldier ought to be treated, and what one should teach him. +Nothing but new-fangled arts and rubbish. That invention in regard to +cavalry charges, for instance." + +"Yes, one might have something more amusing," Viätkin chimed in. + +"There you stand," continued Sliva, "in the middle of the field, like a +decoy-bird, and the Cossacks rush at you in full pelt. Naturally, like a +sensible man, you make room for them in good time. Directly after comes: +'You have bad nerves, Captain; one should not behave in that way in the +army. Be good enough to recollect that,' etc., etc., in the same style." + +"The General in command of the K---- Regiment," interrupted Viätkin, +"once had a brilliant idea. He had a company marched to the edge of an +awful cesspool, and then ordered the Captain to order the men to lie +down. The latter hesitated for an instant, but obeyed the command. The +soldiers were chapfallen, gazing at one another in a questioning way. +All thought they had heard incorrectly; but they got their information +right enough. The General thundered away at the poor Captain in the +presence of all. 'What training do you give your company? Miserable lot +of weaklings. Pretty heroes to take into the field. No, you are cravens, +every one of you, and you, Captain, not the least among them. March to +arrest.'" + +"That 'takes the cake,'" laughed Lbov. + +"And what's the use of it? First one insults the officers in the +presence of the men, and then complaints are made of lack of discipline. +But to give a scamp his deserts is a thing one dare not do. He is, if +you please, a 'human being,' a 'personage'; but in the good old times +there were no 'personages' in the army. Then the cattle got what they +needed, and then there was the Italian Campaign, Sebastopol, and several +other trifles. Well, all the same thing, so far as I am concerned. I'll +do my duty even if it costs me my commission, and as far as my arm +reaches every scoundrel shall get his deserts." + +"There's no honour in striking a soldier," exclaimed Romashov, in a +muffled voice. Up to this he had been merely a silent listener. "One +can't hit a man who is not allowed to raise a hand in self-defence. It +is as cowardly as it is cruel." + +Captain Sliva bestowed on Romashov an annihilating look, pressed his +underlip against his little grey, bristling moustache, and at length +exclaimed, with an expression of the deepest contempt-- + +"Wha-at's that?" + +Romashov stood as white as a corpse, his pulse beat violently, and a +cold shudder ran through his body. + +"I said that such a method of treatment was cruel and cowardly, and +I--retain my opinion," answered Romashov nervously, but without +flinching. + +"You don't say so!" twittered Sliva. "Listen to my young cockerel. +Should you, against all likelihood, be another year with the regiment, +you shall be provided with a muzzle. That you may rely on. Thank God, I +know how to deal with such germs of evil. Don't worry yourself about +that." + +Romashov fearlessly directed at him a glance of hatred, straight in his +eyes, and said, almost in a whisper-- + +"If ever I see you maltreat a soldier I will report it at once to the +commander of the regiment." + +"What, do you dare?" shrieked Sliva in a threatening voice, but checked +himself instantly. "Enough of this," he went on to say dryly; "you +ensigns are a little too young to teach veterans who have smelt powder, +and who have, for more than a quarter of a century, served their Tsar +without incurring punishment. Officers, return to your respective +posts." + +Captain Sliva turned his back sharply on the officers and went away. + +"Why do you poke your nose into all that?" asked Viätkin as he took +Romashov by the arm and left the place. "As you know, that old plum[16] +isn't one of the sweetest; besides, you don't know him yet as well as I +do. Be careful what you are about; he is not to be played with, and some +fine day he'll put you in the lock-up in earnest." + +"Listen, Pavel Pavlich," cried Romashov, with tears of rage in his +voice. "Do you think views such as Captain Sliva's are worthy of an +officer? And is it not revolting that such old bags of bones should be +suffered to insult their subordinates with impunity? Who can put up with +it in the long run?" + +"Well, yes--to a certain extent you are right," replied Viätkin, in a +tone of indifference. The rest of what he thought of saying died away in +a gape, and Romashov continued, in increasing excitement-- + +"Tell me, what is the use of all this shouting and yelling at the men? I +never could imagine when I became an officer that such barbarism was +tolerated in our time in a Russian regiment. Ah! never shall I forget my +first impressions and experiences here. One incident remains very +clearly graven in my memory. It was the third day after my arrival here. +I was sitting at mess in company with that red-haired libertine, +Artschakovski. I addressed him in conversation as 'lieutenant,' because +he called me 'sub-lieutenant.' Suddenly he began showering insults and +abuse on me. Although we sat at the same table and drank ale together, +he shouted at me: 'In the first place, I am not lieutenant to you, but +_Mr._ Lieutenant, and, secondly, be good enough to stand up when you are +speaking to your superior.' And there I stood in the room, like a +schoolboy under punishment, until Lieutenant-Colonel Liech came and sat +between us. No, no, pray don't say anything, Pavel Pavlich. I am just +sick of all that goes on here." + + + + +XI + + +The 22nd of April was for Romashov not only an uncomfortable and +tiresome day, but a very remarkable one. At 10 a.m., before Romashov had +got out of bed, Nikoläiev's servant, Stepan, arrived with a letter from +Alexandra Petrovna. + + MY DEAR ROMOTCHKA (she wrote), I should not be in the least + surprised if you have forgotten that to-day is my name-day, of + which I also take the liberty to remind you. And in spite of all + your transgressions, I should like to see you at my house to-day. + But don't come at the conventional hour of congratulation, but at 5 + p.m. We are going to a little picnic at Dubetschnaia.--Yours, + +A. N. + +The letter trembled in Romashov's hands as he read it. For a whole week +he had not once seen Shurochka's saucy, smiling, bewitching face; had +not felt the delicious enchantment he always experienced in her +presence. "To-day," a joyful voice sang exultant in his heart. + +"To-day," shouted Romashov, in a ringing voice, as he jumped out of bed. +"Hainán, my bathwater, quick." + +Hainán rushed in. + +"Your Honour, the servant is waiting for an answer." + +"Oh--yes, of course." Romashov dropped, with eyes wide open, on a +chair. "The deuce, he is waiting for a 'tip,' and I haven't a single +copeck." Romashov stared at his trusty servant with a look of absolute +helplessness. + +Hainán returned his look with a broad grin of delight. + +"No more have I either, your Excellency. You have nothing, and I have +nothing--what's to be done? _Nichevó!_" + +At that moment Romashov called to mind that dark spring night when he +stood in the dirty road, leaning against the wet, sticky fence, and +heard Stepan's scornful remark: "That man hangs about here every day." +Now he remembered the intolerable feeling of shame he experienced at +that moment, and what would he not give if only he could conjure up a +single silver coin, a twenty-copeck piece, wherewith to stop the mouth +of Shurochka's messenger. + +He pressed his hands convulsively against his temples and almost cried +from annoyance. + +"Hainán," he whispered, looking shyly askance at the door, "Hainán, go +and tell him he shall have his 'tip' to-night--for certain, do you hear? +For certain." + +Romashov was just then as hard up as it was possible to be. His credit +was gone everywhere--at mess, with the buffet proprietor, at the +regimental treasury, etc. He certainly still drew his dinner and supper +rations, but without sakuska. He had not even tea and sugar in his room; +only a tremendous tin can containing coffee grounds--a dark, awesome +mixture which, when diluted with water, was heroically swallowed every +morning by Romashov and his trusty servant. + +With grimaces of the deepest disgust, Romashov sat and absorbed this +bitter, nauseous morning beverage. His brain was working at high +pressure as to how he should find some escape from the present desperate +situation. First, where and how was he to obtain a name-day present for +Shurochka? It would be an impossibility for him to show up at her house +without one. And, besides, what should he give her? Sweets or gloves? +But he did not know what size she wore--sweets, then? But in the town +the sweets were notoriously nasty, therefore something else--scent--a +fan? No, scent would, he thought, be preferable. She liked "Ess +Bouquet," so "Ess Bouquet" it should be. Moreover, the expense of the +evening's picnic. A trap there and back, "tip" to Stepan, incidental +expenses. "Ah, my good Romashov, you won't do it for less than ten +roubles." + +After this he reviewed his resources. His month's pay--every copeck of +that was spent and receipted. Advance of pay perhaps. Alas, he had tried +that way quite thirty times, but always with an unhappy result. The +paymaster to the regiment, Staff-Captain Doroshenko, was known far and +wide as the most disobliging "swine," especially to sub-lieutenants. He +had taken part in the Turkish War, and was there, alas! wounded in the +most mortifying and humiliating spot--in his heel. This had not happened +during retreat, but on an occasion when he was turning to his troops to +order an attack. None the less he was, on account of his ill-omened +wound, the object of everlasting flings and sarcasms, with the result +that Doroshenko, who went to the campaign a merry ensign, was now +changed into a jealous, irritable hypochondriac. No, Doroshenko would +not advance a single copeck, least of all to a sub-lieutenant who, with +uncommon eagerness, had long since drawn all the pay that was due to +him. + +"But one need not hang oneself, I suppose, for that," Romashov consoled +himself by thinking, after he had finished the foregoing meditation. +"One must try and borrow. Let us now take the victims in turn. Well, the +1st Company, Osadchi?" + +Before Romashov's mind's eye appeared Osadchi's peculiar but well-formed +features and his heavy, brutal expression. "No, anybody else in the +world except him. Second Company, Taliman? Ah, that poor devil, who is +borrowing all the year round, even from the ensigns. He won't do. Take +another name--Khutinski?" + +But just at that moment a mad boyish idea crossed Romashov's mind. +"Suppose I go and borrow money from the Colonel himself. What then would +be likely to happen? First he would be numbed with horror at such a +piece of impudence; next he would begin trembling with rage, then he +would fire, as if from a mortar, the words: 'Wha-at! Si-lence!'" + +Romashov burst out laughing. "How in the world can a day that began so +happily as this ever end sadly and sorrowfully? Yes, I don't know yet +how the problem is to be solved, but an inward voice has told me that +all will go well. Captain Duvernois? No, Duvernois is a skinflint, and, +besides, he can't bear me. I know that." + +In this way he went through all the officers of his company, from the +first to the sixteenth, without getting a step nearer his goal. He was +just about to despair altogether when suddenly a new name sprang up in +his head--Lieutenant-Colonel Rafalski. + +"Rafalski! What an ass I am! Hainán, my coat, gloves, cap. Make haste!" + +Lieutenant-Colonel Rafalski, commander of the 4th Battalion, was an +incorrigible old bachelor, and, in addition, a most eccentric character, +who was called by his comrades "Colonel Brehm." He associated with no +one, was seen among the circle of his brother officers only on occasions +of ceremony, i.e. at Easter and on New Year's Day, and he neglected his +duties to such a degree that at drill he was the constant object of +furious invectives on the part of the higher authorities. All his time, +all his attention, and all his unconsumed funds of love and tenderness, +which he really possessed, were devoted to his idolized _protégés_, his +wild creatures--brutes, birds, and fishes, of which he owned almost an +entire menagerie. The ladies of the regiment, who in the depths of their +hearts were highly incensed with Rafalski for his unconcealed contempt +of women, used to say of him: "Such a dreadful man, and what dreadful +animals he keeps! Such dirtiness in his house, and, pardon the +expression, what a nasty smell he carries with him wherever he goes." + +All his savings went to the menagerie. This most eccentric individual +had succeeded in reducing his temporal needs to a minimum. He wore a cap +and uniform that dated from prehistoric times, he slept and dwelt God +knows how, he shared the soldiers' fare, and he ate in the 15th +Company's kitchen, towards the staff of which he displayed a certain +liberality. To his comrades--particularly the younger of them--he seldom +refused a small loan if he was in funds, but to remain in debt to +"Colonel Brehm" was not regarded as _comme il faut_, and he who did so +was inevitably exposed to his comrades' ridicule and contempt. + +Frivolous and impudent individuals as, e.g. Lbov, were occasionally not +averse from extracting a few silver roubles from Rafalski, and they +always introduced the business by a request to be allowed to see the +menagerie. This was generally an infallible way to the old hermit's +heart and cash-box. "Good morning, Ivan Antonovich, have you got any +fresh animals? Oh, how interesting! Come and show us them," etc., in the +same style. After this the loan was a simple matter. + +Romashov had many times visited Rafalski, but never up to then with an +ulterior motive. He too was particularly fond of animals, and when he +was a cadet at Moscow, nay, even when he was a lad, he much preferred a +circus to a theatre, and the zoological gardens or some menagerie to +either. In his dreams as a child there always hovered a St. Bernard. Now +his secret dream was to be appointed Adjutant to a battalion--so that he +might become the possessor of a horse. But neither of his dreams was +fulfilled. + +The poverty of his parents proved an insuperable obstacle to the +realization of the former, and, as far as his adjutancy was concerned, +his prospects were exceedingly small, as Romashov lacked the most +important qualifications for it, viz. a fine figure and carriage. + +Romashov went into the street. A warm spring breeze caressed his cheeks, +and the ground that had just dried after the rain gave to his steps, +through its elasticity, a pleasant feeling of buoyancy and power. +Hagberry and lilac pointed and nodded at him with their rich-scented +bunches of blossom over the street fences. A suddenly awakened joy of +life expanded his chest, and he felt as if he was about to fly. After he +had looked round the street and convinced himself that he was alone, he +took Shurochka's letter out of his pocket, read it through once more, +and then pressed her signature passionately to his lips. + +"Oh, lovely sky! Beautiful trees!" he whispered with moist eyes. + +"Colonel Brehm" lived at the far end of a great enclosure hedged round +by a green lattice-like hedge. Over the gate might be read: "Ring the +bell. Beware of the dogs!" + +Romashov pulled the bell. The servant's sallow, sleepy face appeared at +the wicket. + +"Is the Colonel at home?" + +"Yes. Please step in, your Honour." + +"No. Go and take in my name first." + +"It is not necessary. Walk in." The servant sleepily scratched his +thigh. "The Colonel does not like standing on ceremony, you know." + +Romashov strode on, and followed a sort of path of bricks which led +across the yard to the house. A couple of enormous, mouse-coloured young +bull-dogs ran out of a corner, and one of them greeted him with a rough +but not unfriendly bark. Romashov snapped his fingers at it, which was +answered in delight by awkward, frolicsome leaps and still noisier +barking. The other bull-dog followed closely on Romashov's heels, and +sniffed with curiosity between the folds of his cape. Far away in the +court, where the tender, light green grass had already sprouted up, +stood a little donkey philosophizing, blinking in delight at the sun, +and lazily twitching its long ears. Here and there waddled ducks of +variegated hues, fowls and Chinese geese with large excrescences over +their bills. A bevy of peacocks made their ear-splitting cluck heard, +and a huge turkey-cock with trailing wings and tail-feathers high in +the air was courting the favourite sultana of his harem. A massive pink +sow of genuine Yorkshire breed wallowed majestically in a hole. + +"Colonel Brehm," dressed in a Swedish leather jacket, stood at a window +with his back to the door, and he did not notice Romashov as the latter +entered the room. He was very busy with his glass aquarium, into which +he plunged one arm up to the elbow, and he was so absorbed by this +occupation that Romashov was obliged to cough loudly twice before +Rafalski turned round and presented his long, thin, unshaven face and a +pair of old-fashioned spectacles with tortoise-shell rims. + +"Ah, ha--what do I see?--Sub-lieutenant Romashov? Very welcome, very +welcome!" rang his friendly greeting. "Excuse my not being able to shake +hands, but, as you see, I am quite wet. I am now testing a new siphon. I +have simplified the apparatus, which will act splendidly. Will you have +some tea?" + +"I am very much obliged to you, but I have just breakfasted. I have +come, Colonel, to----" + +"Of course you have heard the rumour that our regiment is to be moved to +garrison another town," interrupted Rafalski, in a tone as if he had +only resumed a conversation just dropped. "You may well imagine my +despair. How shall I manage to transport all my fishes? At least half of +them will die on the journey. And this aquarium too; look at it +yourself. Wholly of glass and a yard and a half long. Ah, my dear +fellow" (here he suddenly sprang into a wholly different train of +thought), "what an aquarium they have in Sebastopol! A cistern of +continually flowing seawater, big as this room, and entirely of stone. +And lighted by electricity too. You stand and gaze down on all those +wonderful fishes--sturgeons, sharks, rays, sea-cocks--nay, God forgive +me my sins! sea-cats, I mean. Imagine in your mind a gigantic pancake, +an _arshin_[17] and a half in diameter, which moves and wags--and behind +it a tail shaped like an arrow. My goodness, I stood there staring for a +couple of hours--but what are you laughing at?" + +"I beg your pardon, but I just noticed a little white rat sitting on +your shoulder." + +"Oh, you little rascal! Who gave you leave?" Rafalski twisted his head +and produced with his lips a whistling but extraordinarily delicate +sound that was remarkably like the cheeping noise of a rat. The little +white, red-eyed beast, trembling all over its body, snuggled up to +Rafalski's cheek, and began groping with its nose after its master's +mouth and chin-tuft. + +"How tame your animals are, and how well they know you!" exclaimed +Romashov. + +"Yes, they always know me well enough," replied Rafalski. After this he +drew a deep sigh and sorrowfully shook his grey head. "It is unfortunate +that mankind troubles itself and knows so little about animals. We have +trained and tamed for our use or good pleasure the dog, the horse, and +the cat, but how much do we know about the real nature and being of +these animals? Now and then, of course, some professor--a marvel of +learning--comes along--may the devil devour them all!--and talks a lot +of antediluvian rubbish that no sensible person either understands or +has the least profit from. Moreover, he gives the poor innocent beasts a +number of Latin nicknames as idiotic as they are unnecessary, and to +crown it all, he has the impudence to demand to be immortalized for all +this tomfoolery, and pretty nearly venerated as a saint. But what can he +teach us, and what does he know himself, of animals and their inner +life? No! take any dog you like, live together with it for a time, side +by side, and, by the study of this intelligent, reflecting creature, you +will get more matter for your psychology than all the professors and +teachers could dream." + +"But perhaps there are works of that nature, though we do not yet know +them?" suggested Romashov shyly. + +"Books, did you say? Yes, of course, there are plenty. Just glance over +there. I have a whole library of them." + +Rafalski pointed to a long row of shelves standing along the walls. +"Those learned gentlemen write a whole lot of clever things, and show +great profundity in their studies. Yes, their learning is absolutely +overwhelming. What wonderful scientific instruments, and what acuteness +of intellect! But all that is quite different from what I mean. Not one +of all these great celebrities has hit upon the idea of observing +carefully, only for a single day, for instance, a dog or cat in its +private life. And yet how interesting and instructive that is. To watch +closely how a dog lives, thinks, intrigues, makes itself happy or +miserable. Just think, for example, what all those clowns and showmen +can effect. One might sometimes think that one was subjected to an +extraordinary hypnosis. Never in all my life shall I forget a clown I +saw in the hotel at Kiev--a mere clown. What results might have been +attained by a scientifically educated investigator, armed with all the +wonderful apparatus and resources of our time! What interesting things +one might hear about a dog's psychology, his character, docility, etc. A +new world of marvels would be opened to human knowledge. For my part, +you should know that I am quite certain that dogs possess a language +and, moreover, a very rich and developed speech." + +"But, Ivan Antonovich, tell me why the learned have never made such an +attempt?" asked Romashov. + +Rafalski replied by a sarcastic smile. + +"He, he, he! the thing is clear enough. What do you suppose a dog is to +such a learned bigwig? A vertebrate animal, a mammal, a carnivorous +animal, etc, and that's the end of it. Nothing more. How could he +condescend to treat a dog as if it were an intelligent, rational being? +Never. No, these haughty university despots are in reality but a trifle +higher than the peasant who thought that the dog had steam instead of a +soul." + +He stopped short and began snorting and splashing angrily whilst he +fussed and fumed with a gutta-percha tube that he was trying to apply to +the bottom of the aquarium. Romashov summoned all his courage, made a +violent effort of will, and succeeded in blurting out-- + +"Ivan Antonovich, I have come on an important--very important +business----" + +"Money?" + +"Yes, I am ashamed to trouble you. I don't require much--only ten +roubles--but I can't promise to repay you just yet." + +Ivan Antonovich pulled his hands out of the water and began slowly to +dry them on a towel. + +"I can manage ten roubles--I have not more, but these I'll lend you with +the greatest pleasure. You're wanting to be off, I suppose, on some +spree or dissipation? Well, well, don't be offended; I'm merely +jesting. Come, let us go." + +"Colonel Brehm" took Romashov through his suite of apartments, which +consisted of five or six rooms, in which every trace of furniture and +curtains was lacking. Everywhere one's nose was assailed by the curious, +pungent odour that is always rife in places where small animals are +freely allowed to run riot. The floors were so filthy that one stumbled +at nearly every step. In all the corners, small holes and lairs, formed +of wooden boxes, hollow stubble, empty casks without bottoms, etc., +etc., were arranged. Trees with bending branches stood in another room. +The one room was intended for birds, the other for squirrels and +martens. All the arrangements witnessed to a love of animals, careful +attention, and a great faculty for observation. + +"Look here," Rafalski pointed to a little cage, surrounded by a thick +railing of barbed wire; from the semicircular opening, which was no +larger than the bottom of a drinking-glass, glowed two small, keen black +eyes. "That's a polecat, the cruellest and most bloodthirsty beast in +creation. You may not believe me, but it's none the less true, that, in +comparison with it, the lion and panther are as tame as lambs. When a +lion has eaten his thirty-four pounds or so of flesh, and is resting +after his meal, he looks on good-humouredly at the jackals gorging on +the remains of the banquet. But if that little brute gets into a +hen-house it does not spare a single life. There are no limits to its +murderous instinct, and, besides, it is the wildest beast in the world +and the one hardest to tame. Fie, you little monster." + +Rafalski put his hand behind the bars, and at once, in the narrow outlet +to the cage, an open jaw with sharp, white teeth was displayed. The +polecat accompanied its rapid movements backwards and forwards by a +spiteful, cough-like sound. + +"Have you ever seen such a nasty brute? And yet I myself have fed it +every day for a whole year." + +"Colonel Brehm" had now evidently forgotten Romashov's business. He took +him from cage to cage, and showed him all his favourites, and he spoke +with as much enthusiasm, knowledge, and tenderness of the animals' +tempers and habits, as if the question concerned his oldest and most +intimate friends. Rafalski's collection of animals was really an +extraordinarily large and fine one for a private individual to own, who +was, moreover, compelled to live in an out-of-the-way and wretched +provincial hole. There were rabbits, white rats, otters, hedgehogs, +marmots, several venomous snakes in glass cases, ant-bears, several +sorts of monkeys, a black Australian hare, and an exceedingly fine +specimen of an Angora cat. + +"Well, what do you say to this?" asked Rafalski, as he exhibited the +cat. "Isn't he charming? And yet he does not stand high in my favour, +for he is awfully stupid--much more stupid than our ordinary cats." +Rafalski then exclaimed hotly: "Another proof of the little we know and +how wrongly we value our ordinary domestic animals. What do we know +about the cat, horse, cow, and pig? The pig is a remarkably clever +animal. You're laughing, I see, but wait and you shall hear." (Romashov +had not shown the least signs of amusement.) "Last year I had in my +possession a wild boar which invented the following trick. I had got +home from the sugar factory four bushels of waste, intended for my pigs +and hot-beds. Well, my big boar could not, of course, wait patiently. +Whilst the foreman went to find my servant, the boar with his tusks tore +the bung out of the cask, and, in a few seconds, was in his seventh +heaven. What do you say of a chap like that? But listen +further"--Rafalski peered out of one eye, and assumed a crafty +expression--"I am at present engaged in writing a treatise on my +pigs--for God's sake, not a whisper of this to any one. Just fancy if +people got to hear that a Lieutenant-Colonel in the glorious Russian +Army was writing a book, and one about pigs into the bargain; but the +fact is, I managed to obtain a genuine Yorkshire sow. Have you seen her? +Come, let me show you her. Besides, I have down in the yard a young +beagle, the dearest little beast. Come!" + +"Pardon me, Ivan Antonovich," stammered Romashov, "I should be only too +pleased to accompany you, but--but I really haven't the time now." + +Rafalski struck his forehead with the palm of his hand. + +"Oh, yes, what an incorrigible old gossip I am. Excuse me--I'll go and +get it--come along." + +They went into a little bare room in which there was literally nothing +but a low tent-bedstead which, with its bottom composed of a sheet +hanging down to the floor, reminded one of a boat; a little night-table, +and a chair without a back. Rafalski pulled out a drawer of the little +table and produced the money. + +"I am very glad to be able to help you, ensign, very glad. If you +please, no thanks or such nonsense. It's a pleasure, you know. Look me +up when convenient, and we'll have a chat. Good-bye." + +When Romashov reached the street, he ran into Viätkin. Pavel Pavlich's +moustaches were twisted up ferociously, _à la_ Kaiser, and his +regimental cap, stuck on one side in a rakish manner, lay carelessly +thrown on one ear. + +"Ha, look at Prince Hamlet," shouted Viätkin, "whence and whither? +You're beaming like a man in luck." + +"Yes, that's exactly what I am," replied Romashov smilingly. + +"Ah-ah! splendid; come and give me a big hug." + +With the enthusiasm of youth, they fell into each other's arms in the +open street. + +"Ought we not to celebrate this remarkable event by just a peep into the +mess-room?" proposed Viätkin. "'Come and take a nip in the deepest +loneliness,' as our noble friend Artschakovski is fond of saying." + +"Impossible, Pavel Pavlich, I am in a hurry. But what's up with you? You +seem to-day as if you meant kicking over the traces?" + +"Yes, rather, that's quite on the cards," Viätkin stuck his chin out +significantly. "To-day I have brought off a 'combination' so ingenious +that it would make our Finance Minister green with envy." + +"Really?" + +Viätkin's "combination" appeared simple enough, but testified, however, +to a certain ingenuity. The chief _rôle_ in the affair was played by +Khaim, the regimental tailor, who took from Pavel Pavlich a receipt for +a uniform supposed to have been delivered, but, instead of that, handed +over to Viätkin thirty roubles in cash. + +"The best of it all is," exclaimed Viätkin, "that both Khaim and I are +equally satisfied with the deal. The Jew gave me thirty roubles and +became entitled through my receipt to draw forty-five from the clothing +department's treasury. I am at last once more in a position to chuck +away a few coppers at mess. A masterstroke, eh?" + +"Viätkin, you're a great man, and another time I'll bear in mind your +'patent.' But good-bye for the present. I hope you will have good luck +at cards." They separated, but, after a minute, Viätkin called out to +his comrade again. Romashov stopped and turned round. + +"Have you been to the menagerie?" asked Viätkin, with a cunning wink, +making a gesture in the direction of Rafalski's house. + +Romashov replied by a nod, and said in a tone of conviction, "Brehm is a +downright good fellow--the best of the lot of us." + +"You're right," agreed Viätkin, "bar that frightful smell." + + + + +XII + + +When Romashov reached Nikoläiev's house about five o'clock, he noticed +with surprise that his happy humour of the morning and confidence that +the day would be a success had given place to an inexplicable, painful +nervousness. He felt assured that this nervousness had not come over him +all at once, but had begun much earlier in the day, though he did not +know when. It was likewise clear to him that this feeling of nervousness +had gradually and imperceptibly crept over him. What did it mean? But +such incidents were not new to him; even from his early childhood he had +experienced them, and he knew, too, that he would not regain his mental +balance until he had discovered the cause of the disturbance. He +remembered, for instance, how he had worried himself for a whole day, +and that it was not till evening that he called to mind that, in the +forenoon, when passing a railway crossing, he had been startled and +alarmed by a train rushing past, and this had disturbed his balance. +Directly, however, the cause was discovered he at once became happy and +light-hearted. The question now was to review in inverted order the +events and experiences of the day. Svidierski's millinery shop and its +perfumes; the hire and payment of Leib, the best cab-driver in the town; +the visit to the post-office to set his watch correctly; the lovely +morning; Stepan? No, impossible. In Romashov's pocket lay a rouble laid +by for him. But what could it be then? + +In the street, opposite to the Nikoläievs', stood three two-horse +carriages, and two soldiers held by the reins a couple of +saddle-horses--the one, Olisár's, a dark-brown old gelding, newly +purchased from a cavalry officer; the other Biek-Agamalov's chestnut +mare, with fierce bright eyes. + +"I know! The letter!" flashed through Romashov's brain. That strange +expression "in spite of that"--what could it mean? That Nikoläiev was +angry or jealous? Perhaps mischief had been made. Nikoläiev's manner had +certainly been rather cold lately. + +"Drive on!" he shouted to the driver. + +At that moment, though he had neither seen nor heard anything, he knew +that the door of the house had opened, he knew it by the sweet and +stormy beating of his heart. + +"Romochka! where are you going?" he heard Alexandra Petrovna's clear, +happy voice behind him. + +Romashov, by a strong pull, drew the driver, who was sitting opposite +him, back by the girdle, and jumped out of the fly. Shurochka stood in +the open door as if she were framed in a dark room. She wore a smooth +white dress with red flowers in the sash. The same sort of red flowers +were twined in her hair. How wonderful! Romashov felt instantly and +infallibly that this was _she_, but, nevertheless, did not recognize +her. To him it was a new revelation, radiant and in festal array. + +While Romashov was mumbling his felicitations, Shurochka forced him, +without letting go his hands, softly and with gentle violence, to enter +the gloomy hall with her. At the same time she uttered half-aloud, in a +hurried and nervous tone-- + +"Thanks, Romochka, for coming. Ah, how much I was afraid that you would +plead some excuse! But remember now, to-day you are to be jolly and +amiable. Don't do anything which will attract attention. Now, how absurd +you are! Directly any one touches you, you shrivel up like a +sensitive-plant." + +"Alexandra Petrovna, your letter has upset me. There is an expression +you make use of...." + +"My dear boy! what nonsense!" she grasped both his hands and pressed +them hard, gazing into the depths of his eyes. In that glance of hers +there was something which Romashov had never seen before--a caressing +tenderness, an intensity, and something besides, which he could not +interpret. In the mysterious depths of her dark pupils fixed so long and +earnestly on him he read a strange, elusive significance, a message +uttered in the mysterious language of the soul. + +"Please--don't let us talk of this to-day! No doubt you will be pleased +to hear that I have been watching for you. I know what a coward you are, +you see. Don't you dare to look at me like that, now!" + +She laughed in some confusion and released his hands. + +"That will do now--Romochka, you awkward creature! again you've +forgotten to kiss my hand. That's right! Now the other. But don't +forget," she added in a hot whisper, "that to-day is our day. Tsarina +Alexandra and her trusty knight, Georgi. Come." + +"One instant--look here--you'll allow me? It's a very modest gift." + +"What? Scent? What nonsense is this? No, forgive me; I'm only joking. +Thanks, thanks, dear Romochka. Volodya," she called out loudly in an +unconstrained tone as she entered the room, "here is another friend to +join us in our little picnic." + +As is always the case before dispersing for a general excursion, there +was much noise and confusion in the drawing-room. The thick tobacco +smoke formed here and there blue eddies when met by the sunbeams on its +way out of the window. Seven or eight officers stood in the middle of +the room, in animated conversation. The loudest among them was the +hoarse-voiced Taliman with his everlasting cough. There were Captain +Osadchi and the two inseparable Adjutants, Olisár and Biek-Agamalov; +moreover, Lieutenant Andrusevich--a little, lithe, and active man, who, +in his sharp-nosed physiognomy, resembled a rat--and Sofia Pavlovna +Taliman, who, smiling, powdered, and painted, sat, like a dressed-up +doll, in the middle of the sofa, between Ensign Michin's two sisters. +These girls were very prepossessing in their simple, home-made but +tasteful dresses with white and green ribbons. They were both dark-eyed, +black-haired, with a few summer freckles on their fresh, rosy cheeks. +Both had dazzlingly white teeth which, perhaps from their not +irreproachable form and evenness, gave the fresh lips a particular, +curious charm. Both were extraordinarily like, not only each other, but +also their brother, although the latter was certainly not a "beauty" +man. Of the ladies belonging to the regiment who were invited were Mrs. +Andrusevich--a little, fat, podgy, simple, laughing woman, very much +addicted to doubtful anecdotes--and, lastly, the really pretty, but +gossiping and lisping, Misses Lykatschev. + +As is always the case at military parties, the ladies formed a circle by +themselves. Quite near them, and sitting by himself, Staff-Captain Ditz, +the coxcomb, was lolling indolently in an easy chair. This officer, who, +with his tight-laced figure and aristocratic looks, strongly reminded +one of the well-known _Fliegende Blätter_ type of lieutenants, had been +cashiered from the Guards on account of some mysterious, scandalous +story. He distinguished himself by his unfailing ironical confidence in +his intercourse with men, and his audacious boldness with women, and he +pursued, carefully and very lucratively, card-playing on a big scale, +not, however, in the mess-room, but in the Townsmen's Club, with the +civilian officials of the place, as well as with the Polish landowners +in the neighbourhood. Nobody in the regiment liked him, but he was +feared, and all felt within themselves a certain rough conviction that +some day a terrible, dirty scandal would bring Ditz's military career to +an abrupt conclusion. It was reported that he had a _liaison_ with the +young wife of an old, retired Staff-Captain who lived in the town, and +also that he was very friendly with Madame Taliman. It was also purely +for her sake he was invited to officers' families, according to the +curious conceptions of good tone and good breeding that still hold sway +in military circles. + +"Delighted--delighted!" was Nikoläiev's greeting as he went up to +Romashov. "Why didn't you come this morning and taste our pasty?" + +Nikoläiev uttered all this in a very jovial and friendly tone, but in +his voice and glance Romashov noticed the same cold, artificial, and +harsh expression which he had felt almost unconsciously lately. + +"He does not like me," thought Romashov. "But what is the matter with +him? Is he angry--or jealous, or have I bored him to death?" + +"As you perhaps are aware, we had inspection of rifles in our company +this morning," lied Romashov boldly. "When the Great Inspection +approaches, one is never free either Sundays or week-days, you know. +However, may I candidly admit that I am a trifle embarrassed? I did not +know in the least that you were giving a picnic. I invited myself, so to +speak. And truly, I feel some qualms----" + +Nikoläiev smiled broadly, and clapped Romashov on the shoulder with +almost insulting familiarity. + +"How you talk, my friend! The more the merrier, and we don't want any +Chinese ceremonies here. But there is one awkward thing--I mean, will +there be sufficient carriages? But we shall be able to manage +something." + +"I brought my own trap," said Romashov, to calm him, whilst he, quite +unnoticeably, released his shoulder from Nikoläiev's caressing hand, +"and I shall be very pleased to put it at your service." + +Romashov turned round and met Shurochka's eye. "Thank you, my dear," +said her ardent, curiously intent look. + +"How strange she is to-day," thought Romashov. + +"That's capital!" Nikoläiev looked at his watch. "What do you say, +gentlemen; shall we start?" + +"'Let us start,' said the parrot when the cat dragged it out of its cage +by the tail," said Olisár jokingly. + +All got up, noisy and laughing. The ladies went in search of their hats +and parasols, and began to put on their gloves. Taliman, who suffered +from bronchitis, croaked and screamed that, above everything, the +company should wrap up well; but his voice was drowned in the noise and +confusion. Little Michin took Romashov aside and said to him-- + +"Yuri Alexievich, I have a favour to ask you. Let my sisters ride in +your carriage, otherwise Ditz will come and force his society on them--a +thing I would prevent at any price. He is in the habit of conversing +with young girls in such a way that they can hardly restrain their tears +of shame and indignation. I am not, God knows! a man fond of violence, +but some day I shall give that scoundrel what he deserves." + +Romashov would naturally have much liked to ride with Shurochka, but +Michin had always been his friend, and it was impossible to withstand +the imploring look of those clear, true-hearted eyes. Besides, Romashov +was so full of joy at that moment that he could not refuse. + +At last, after much noise and fun, they were all seated in the +carriages. Romashov had kept his word, and sat stowed away between the +two Michin girls. Only Staff-Captain Lieschtschenko, whose presence +Romashov now noticed for the first time, kept wandering here and there +among the carriages with a countenance more doleful and woebegone than +ever. All avoided him like the plague. At last Romashov took pity and +called to him, and offered him a place on the box-seat of his trap. The +Staff-Captain thankfully accepted the invitation, fixed on Romashov a +long, grateful look from sad, moist dog's eyes, and climbed up with a +sigh to the box. + +They started. At their head rode Olisár on his lazy old horse, +repeatedly performing clown tricks, and bawling out a hackneyed +operetta air: "Up on the roof of the omnibus," etc. + +"Quick--march!" rang Osadchi's stentorian voice. The cavalcade increased +its pace, and was gradually lost sight of amidst the dust of the high +road. + + + + +XIII + + +The picnic gave no promise of being anything like so pleasant and +cheerful as one might have expected from the party's high spirits at the +start. After driving three _versts_, they halted and got out at +Dubetschnaia. By this name was designated a piece of ground hardly +fifteen _dessyatins_ in extent, which, sparsely covered with proud, +century-old oaks, slowly slanted down towards the strand of a little +river. Close thickets of bushes were arrayed beside the mighty trees, +and these, here and there, formed a charming frame for the small open +spaces covered by the fresh and delicate greenery of spring. In a +similar idyllic spot in the oak-woods, servants and footmen, sent on in +advance, waited with samovars and baskets. + +The company assembled around the white tablecloths spread on the grass. +The ladies produced plates and cold meat, and the gentlemen helped them, +amidst jokes and flirtations. Olisár dressed himself up as a cook by +putting on a couple of serviettes as cap and apron. After much fun and +ceremony, the difficult problem of placing the guests was solved, in +which entered the indispensable condition that the ladies should have a +gentleman on each side. The guests half-reclined or half-sat in rather +uncomfortable positions, which was appreciated by all as being something +new and interesting, and which finally caused the ever-silent +Lieschtschenko to astonish those present, amidst general laughter, by +the following famous utterance: "Here we lie, just like the old Greek +Romans." + +Shurochka had on one side Taliman, on the other side Romashov. She was +unusually cheerful and talkative, nay, sometimes in such high spirits +that the attention of many was called to it. Romashov had never found +her so bewitching before. He thought he noticed in her something new, +something emotional and passionate, which feverishly sought an outlet. +Sometimes she turned without a word to Romashov and gazed at him +intently for half a second longer than was strictly proper, and he felt +then that a force, mysterious, consuming, and overpowering, gleamed from +her eyes. + +Osadchi, who sat by himself at the end of the improvised table, got on +his knees. After tapping his knife against the glass and requesting +silence, he said, in a deep bass voice, the heavy waves of sound from +which vibrated in the pure woodland air-- + +"Gentlemen, let us quaff the first beaker in honour of our fair hostess, +whose name-day it is. May God vouchsafe her every good--and the rank of +a General's consort." + +And after he had raised the great glass, he shouted with all the force +of his powerful voice-- + +"Hurrah!" + +It seemed as if all the trees in the vicinity sighed and drooped under +this deafening howl, which resembled the thunder's boom and the lion's +roar, and the echo of which died away between the oaks' thick trunks. +Andrusevich, who sat next to Osadchi, fell backwards with a comic +expression of terror, and pretended to be slightly deaf during the +remainder of the banquet. The gentlemen got up and clinked their glasses +with Shurochka's. Romashov purposely waited to the last, and she +observed it. Whilst Shurochka turned towards him, she, silently and with +a passionate smile, held forward her glass of white wine. In that moment +her eyes grew wider and darker, and her lips moved noiselessly, just as +if she had clearly uttered a certain word; but, directly afterwards, she +turned round laughing to Taliman, and began an animated conversation +with him. "What did she say?" thought Romashov. "What word was it that +she would not or dared not say aloud?" He felt nervous and agitated, +and, secretly, he made an attempt to give his lips the same form and +expression as he had just observed with Shurochka, in order, by that +means, to guess what she said; but it was fruitless. "Romochka?" +"Beloved?" "I love?" No, that wasn't it. Only one thing he knew for +certain, viz., that the mysterious word had three syllables. + +After that he drank with Nikoläiev, and wished him success on the +General Staff, as if it were a matter of course that Nikoläiev would +pass his examination. Then came the usual, inevitable toasts of "the +ladies present," of "women in general," the "glorious colours of the +regiment," of the "ever-victorious Russian Army," etc. + +Now up sprang Taliman, who was already very elevated, and screamed in +his hoarse, broken falsetto, "Gentlemen, I propose the health of our +beloved, idolized sovereign, for whom we are all ready at any time to +sacrifice our lives to the last drop of our blood." + +At the last words his voice failed him completely. The bandit look in +his dark brown, gipsy eyes faded, and tears moistened his brown cheeks. + +"The hymn to the Tsar," shouted little fat Madame Andrusevich. All +arose. The officers raised their hands to the peaks of their caps. +Discordant, untrained, exultant voices rang over the neighbourhood, but +worse and more out of tune than all the rest screamed the sentimental +Staff-Captain Lieschtschenko, whose expression was even more melancholy +than usual. + +They now began drinking hard, as, for the matter of that, the officers +always did when they forgathered at mess, at each other's homes, at +excursions and picnics, official dinners, etc. All talked at once, and +individual voices could no longer be distinguished. Shurochka, who had +drunk a good deal of white wine, suddenly leaned her head near Romashov. +Her cheeks and lips glowed, and the dark pupils of her beaming eyes had +now attained an almost black hue. + +"I can't stand these provincial picnics," she exclaimed. "They are +always so vulgar, mean, and wearisome. I was, of course, obliged to give +a party before my husband started for his examination, but, good +gracious! why could we not have stayed at home and enjoyed ourselves in +our pretty, shady garden? Such a stupid notion. And yet to-day, I don't +know why, I am so madly happy. Ah, Romochka, I know the reason; I know +it, and will tell you afterwards. Oh, no! No, no, Romochka, that is not +true. I know nothing--absolutely nothing." + +Her beautiful eyes were half-closed, and her face, full of alluring, +promising, and tormenting impatience, had become shamelessly beautiful, +and Romashov, though he hardly understood what it meant, was +instinctively conscious of the passionate emotion which possessed +Shurochka and felt a sweet thrill run down his arms and legs and through +his heart. + +"You are so wonderful to-day--has anything happened?" he asked in a +whisper. + +She answered straightway with an expression of innocent helplessness. "I +have already told you--I don't know--I can't explain it. Look at the +sky. It's blue, but why? It is the same with me. Romochka, dear boy, +pour me out some more wine." + +At the opposite side of the tablecloth an exciting conversation was +carried on with regard to the intended war with Germany, which was then +regarded by many as almost a certainty. Soon an irritable, senseless +quarrel arose about it, which was, however, suddenly interrupted by +Osadchi's furious, thundering, dictatorial voice. He was almost drunk, +but the only signs of it were the terrible pallor of his handsome face +and the lowering gaze of his large black eyes. + +"Rubbish!" he screamed wildly. "What do you really mean by war nowadays? +War has been spoilt, transmogrified, and everything else, for the matter +of that. Children are born idiots, women are stunted, badly brought-up +creatures, and men have--nerves. 'Ugh, blood, blood! Oh, I shall +faint,'" he imitated in an insulting, mockingly pitiful tone. "And all +this only because the real, ferocious and merciless character of war has +changed. Now, can this be called war when you fire a couple of shots at +the enemy at a distance of fifteen _versts_, and then return home in +triumph as a hero? Pretty heroes! You are taken prisoner, and then they +say to you: 'My poor friend, how are you? Are you cold? Would you like +a cigarette? Are you quite comfortable?' Damn it all!" Osadchi gave vent +to a few inarticulate roars and lowered his head like a mad bull ready +to attack. "In the Middle Ages, gentlemen, things were quite different. +Night attacks--storming ladders and naked weapons--murder and +conflagration everywhere. 'Soldiers, the town is yours for three days.' +The slaughter begins, torch and sword perform their office; in the +streets streams of blood and wine. Oh, glorious festival of brave men +amidst bleeding corpses and smoking ruins, beautiful, naked, weeping +women dragged by their hair to the victor's feet." + +"Anyhow, you haven't changed much," interrupted Sofia Pavlovna Taliman +jokingly. + +"All the town a river of fire, the tempest sporting at night with the +bodies of hanged men; vultures shriek and the victor lords it by the +campfires beneath the gallows tree. Why take prisoners and waste time +and strength for them? Ugh!" Osadchi, with teeth clenched, groaned like +a wild beast. "Grand and glorious days! What fights! Eye to eye and +chest to chest. An uninterrupted slaughter for hours, till the +cold-blooded tenacity and discipline of one party, coupled with +invincible fury, brought victory. And what fights then! What courage, +what physical strength, and what superior dexterity in the use of +weapons! Gentlemen"--Osadchi arose in all his gigantic stature and in +his terrible voice insolence and cold-bloodedness reigned--"gentlemen, I +know that from your military colleges have issued morbid, crazy phrases +about what's called 'humanity in war,' etc., etc. But I drink at this +moment--even if I am to drain my glass by myself--to the wars of bygone +days and the joyful, bloody cruelty of old times." + +All were silent, hypnotized and cowed by this unexpected horrible +ecstasy of an otherwise reserved and taciturn man, whom they now +regarded with a feeling of terror and curiosity. At that moment +Biek-Agamalov jumped up from where he was sitting. He did this so +quickly and suddenly that he alarmed several who were present, and one +of the ladies uttered a cry of terror. His widely staring eyes flashed +wildly, and his white, clenched teeth resembled a beast of prey's. He +seemed to be nearly stifled, and he could not find words. + +"Oh, see! here's one who understands and rejoices at what you have said. +Ugh!" With convulsive energy, nay, almost furiously, he grasped and +shook Osadchi's hand. "To hell with all these weak, cowardly, squeamish +wretches! Out with the sabre and hew them down!" + +His bloodshot eyes sought an object suitable as a vent for his flaming +rage. His naturally cruel instincts had at this moment thrown off their +mask. Like a madman he slashed at the oak-copse with his naked sword. +Mutilated branches and young leaves rained down on the tablecloth and +guests. + +"Lieutenant Biek! Madman! Are you out of your mind?" screamed the +ladies. + +Biek-Agamalov pulled himself together and returned to his place, visibly +much ashamed of his barbaric behaviour; but his delicate nostrils rose +and fell with his quick breathings, and his black eyes, wild with +suppressed rage, looked loweringly and defiantly at the company. + +Romashov had heard, and yet not heard, Osadchi's speech. He felt, as it +were, stupefied by a narcotic, but celestially delightful, intoxicating +drink, and he thought that a warm spider, as soft as velvet, had been +spinning softly and cautiously round him with its web, and gently +tickled his body till he almost died of an inward, exultant laughter. His +hand lightly brushed--and each time as though unintentionally--Shurochka's +arm, but neither she nor he attempted to look at each other. Romashov +was quite lost in the land of dreams, when the sound of Biek-Agamalov's +and Osadchi's voices reached him, but as though they came from a +distant, fantastic mist. The actual words he could understand, but they +seemed to him empty and devoid of any intelligent meaning. + +"Osadchi is a cruel man and he does not like me," thought Romashov. +"Osadchi's wife is a creature to be pitied--small, thin, and every year +in an interesting condition. He never takes her out with him. Last year +a young soldier in Osadchi's company hanged himself--Osadchi? Who is +this Osadchi? See now, Biek, too, is shrieking and making a row. What +sort of a man is he? Do I know him? Ah, of course I know him, and yet he +is so strange to me, so wonderful and incomprehensible. But who are you +who are sitting beside me?--from whom such joy and happiness beam that I +am intoxicated with this happiness. There sits Nikoläiev opposite me. He +looks displeased, and sits there in silence all the time. He glances +here as if accidentally, and his eyes glide over me with cold contempt. +He is, methinks, much embittered. Well, I have no objection--may he have +his revenge! Oh, my delicious happiness!" + +It began to grow dark. The lilac shadows of the trees stole slowly over +the plain. The youngest Miss Michin suddenly called out-- + +"Gentlemen, where are the violets? Here on this very spot they are said +to grow in profusion. Come, let us find some and gather them." + +"It's too late," some one objected. "It's impossible to see them in the +grass now." + +"Yes, it is easier to lose a thing now than to find it," interposed +Ditz, with a cynical laugh. + +"Well, anyhow, let us light a bonfire," proposed Andrusevich. + +They at once set about eagerly collecting and forming into a pile an +enormous quantity of dry branches, twigs, and leaves that had been lying +there from last year. The bonfire was lighted, and a huge pillar of +merrily-crackling, sparkling flame arose against the sky. At the same +instant, as though terror-stricken, the last glimpse of daylight left +the place a prey to the darkness which swiftly arose from the forest +gloom. Purple gleaming spots shyly trembled in the oaks' leafy crests, +and the trees seemed at one time to hurry forward with curiosity in the +full illumination from the fire, at another time to hasten as quickly +back to the dark coverts of the grove. + +All got up from their places on the grass. The servants lighted the +candles in the many-coloured Chinese lanterns. The young officers played +and raced like schoolboys. Olisár wrestled with Michin, and to the +astonishment of all the insignificant, clumsy Michin threw his tall, +well-built adversary twice in succession on his back. After this the +guests began leaping right across the fire. Andrusevich displayed some +of his tricks. At one time he imitated the noise of a fly buzzing +against a window, at another time he showed how a poultry-maid attempted +to catch a fugitive cock, lastly, he disappeared in the darkness among +the bushes, from which was heard directly afterwards the sharp rustle of +a saw or grindstone. Even Ditz condescended to show his dexterity, as a +juggler, with empty bottles. + +"Allow me, ladies and gentlemen," cried Taliman, "to perform a little +innocent conjuring trick. This is no question of a marvellous +witchcraft, but only quickness and dexterity. I will ask the +distinguished audience to convince themselves that I have not hidden +anything in my hands or coat-sleeves. Well, now we begin, one, two, +three--hey, presto!" + +With a rapid movement, and, amidst general laughter, he took from his +pocket two new packs of cards, which, with a little bang, he quickly and +deftly freed from their wrapper. + +"_Preference_, gentlemen," he suggested. "A little game, if you like, in +the open air. How would that do, eh?" + +Osadchi, Nikoläiev, and Andrusevich sat down to cards, and with a deep +and sorrowful sigh, Lieschtschenko stationed himself, as usual, behind +the players. Nikoläiev refused to join the game, and stood out for some +time, but gave way at last. As he sat down he looked about him several +times in evident anxiety, searching with his eyes for Shurochka, but the +gleam of the fire blinded him, and a scowling, worried expression became +fixed on his face. + +Romashov pursued a narrow path amongst the trees. He neither understood +nor knew what was awaiting him, but he felt in his heart a vaguely +oppressive but, nevertheless, delicious anguish whilst waiting for +something that was to happen. He stopped. Behind him he heard a slight +rustling of branches, and, after that, the sound of quick steps and the +_frou-frou_ of a silken skirt. Shurochka was approaching him with +hurried steps. She resembled a dryad when, in her white dress, she +glided softly forth between the dark trunks of the mighty oaks. Romashov +went up and embraced her without uttering a word. Shurochka was +breathing heavily and in gasps. Her warm breath often met Romashov's +cheeks and lips, and he felt beneath his hand her heart's violent +throbs. + +"Let's sit here," whispered Shurochka. + +She sank down on the grass, and began with both hands to arrange her +hair at the back. Romashov laid himself at her feet, but, as the ground +just there sloped downwards, he saw only the soft and delicate outlines +of her neck and chin. + +Suddenly she said to him in a low, trembling voice-- + +"Romochka, are you happy?" + +"Yes--happy," he answered. Then, after reviewing in his mind, for an +instant, all the events of that day, he repeated fervently: "Oh, yes--so +happy, but tell me why you are to-day so, so?..." + +"So? What do you mean?" + +She bent lower towards him, gazed into his eyes, and all her lovely +countenance was for once visible to Romashov. + +"Wonderful, divine Shurochka, you have never been so beautiful as now. +There is something about you that sings and shines--something new and +mysterious which I cannot understand. But, Alexandra Petrovna, don't be +angry now at the question. Are you not afraid that some one may come?" + +She smiled without speaking, and that soft, low, caressing laugh aroused +in Romashov's heart a tremor of ineffable bliss. + +"My dearest Romochka--my good, faint-hearted, simple, timorous +Romochka--have I not already told you that this day is ours? Think only +of that, Romochka. Do you know why I am so brave and reckless to-day? +No, you do not know the reason. Well, it's because I am in love with you +to-day--nothing else. No, no--don't, please, get any false notions into +your head. To-morrow it will have passed." + +Romashov tried to take her in his arms. + +"Alexandra Petrovna--Shurochka--Sascha,"[18] he moaned beseechingly. + +"Don't call me Shurochka--do you hear? I don't like it. Anything but +that. By the way," she stopped abruptly as if considering something, +"what a charming name you have--Georgi. It's much prettier than +Yuri--oh, much, much, much prettier. Georgi," she pronounced the name +slowly with an accent on each syllable as though it afforded her delight +to listen to the sound of every letter in the word. "Yes, there is a +proud ring about that name." + +"Oh, my beloved," Romashov exclaimed, interrupting her with passionate +fervour. + +"Wait and listen. I dreamt of you last night--a wonderful, enchanting +dream. I dreamt we were dancing together in a very remarkable room. Oh, +I should at any time recognize that room in its minutest details. It was +lighted by a red lamp that shed its radiance on handsome rugs, a bright +new cottage piano, and two windows with drawn red curtains. All within +was red. An invisible orchestra played, we danced close-folded in each +other's arms. No, no. It's only in dreams that one can come so +intoxicatingly close to the object of one's love. Our feet did not touch +the floor; we hovered in the air in quicker and quicker circles, and +this ineffably delightful enchantment lasted so very, very long. Listen, +Romochka, do you ever fly in your dreams?" + +Romashov did not answer immediately. He was in an exquisitely beautiful +world of wonders, at the same time magic and real. And was not all this +then merely a dream, a fairy tale? This warm, intoxicating spring night; +these dark, silent, listening trees; this rare, beautiful, white-clad +woman beside him. He only succeeded, after a violent effort of will, in +coming back to consciousness and reality. + +"Yes, sometimes, but, with every passing year my flight gets weaker and +lower. When I was a child, I used to fly as high as the ceiling, and how +funny it seemed to me to look down on the people on the floor. They +walked with their feet up, and tried in vain to reach me with the long +broom. I flew off, mocking them with my exultant laughter. But now the +force in my wings is broken," added Romashov, with a sigh. "I flap my +wings about for a few strokes, and then fall flop on the floor." + +Shurochka sank into a semi-recumbent position, with her elbow resting on +the ground and her head resting in the palm of her hand. After a few +moments' silence she continued in an absent tone-- + +"This morning, when I awoke, a mad desire came over me to meet you. So +intense was my longing that I do not know what would have happened if +you had not come. I almost think I should have defied convention, and +looked you up at your house. That was why I told you not to come before +five o'clock. I was afraid of myself. Darling, do you understand me +now?" + +Hardly half an _arshin_ from Romashov's face lay her crossed feet--two +tiny feet in very low shoes, and stockings clocked with white embroidery +in the form of an arrow over the instep. With his temples throbbing and +a buzzing in his ears, he madly pressed his eager lips against this +elastic, live, cool part of her body, which he felt through the +stocking. + +"No, Romochka--stop." He heard quite close above his head her weak, +faltering, and somewhat lazy voice. + +Romashov raised his head. Once more he was the fairy-tale prince in the +wonderful wood. In scattered groups along the whole extensive slope in +the dark grass stood the ancient, solemn oaks, motionless, but attentive +to every sound that disturbed Nature's holy, dream-steeped slumbers. +High up, above the horizon and through the dense mass of tree trunks and +crests, one could still discern a slender streak of twilight glow, not, +as usual, light red or changing into blue, but of dark purple hue, +reminiscent of the last expiring embers in the hearth, or the dull +flames of deep red wine drawn out by the sun's rays. And as it were, +framed in all this silent magnificence, lay a young, lovely, white-clad +woman--a dryad lazily reclining. + +Romashov came closer to her. To him it seemed as if from Shurochka's +countenance there streamed a pale, faint radiance. He could not +distinguish her eyes; he only saw two large black spots, but he felt +that she was gazing at him steadily. + +"This is a poem, a fairy-tale--a fairy-tale," he whispered, scarcely +moving his lips. + +"Yes, my friend, it is a fairy-tale." + +He began to kiss her dress; he hid his face in her slender, warm, +sweet-smelling hand, and, at the same time, stammered in a hollow +voice-- + +"Sascha--I love you--love you." + +When she now raised herself somewhat up, he clearly saw her eyes, black, +piercing, now unnaturally dilated, at another moment closed altogether, +by which the whole of her face was so strangely altered that it became +unrecognizable. His eager, thirsty lips sought her mouth, but she turned +away, shook her head sadly, and at last whispered again and again-- + +"No, no, no, my dear, my darling--not that." + +"Oh, my adored one, what bliss--I love you," Romashov again interrupted +her, intoxicated with love. "See, this night--this silence, and no one +here, save ourselves. Oh, my happiness, how I love you!" + +But again she replied, "No, no," and sank back into her former attitude +on the grass. She breathed heavily. At last she said in a scarcely +audible voice, and it was plain that every word cost her a great effort: + +"Romochka, it's a pity that you are so weak. I will not deny that I feel +myself drawn to you, and that you are dear to me, in spite of your +awkwardness, your simple inexperience of life, your childish and +sentimental tenderness. I do not say I love you, but you are always in +my thoughts, in my dreams, and your presence, your caresses set my +senses, my thoughts, working. But why are you always so pitiable? +Remember that pity is the sister of contempt. You see it is unfortunate +I cannot look up to you. Oh, if you were a strong, purposeful man----" +She took off Romashov's cap and put her fingers softly and caressingly +through his soft hair. "If you could only win fame--a high +position----" + +"I promise to do so; I will do so," exclaimed Romashov, in a strained +voice. "Only be mine, come to me ... all my life shall...." + +She interrupted him with a tender and sorrowful smile, of which there +was an echo in her voice. + +"I believe you, dear; I believe you mean what you say, and I also know +you will never be able to keep your promise. Oh, if I could only cherish +the slightest hope of that, I would abandon everything and follow you. +Ah, Romochka, my handsome boy, I call to mind a certain legend which +tells how God from the beginning created every human being whole, but +afterwards broke it into two pieces and threw the bits broadcast into +the world. And ever afterward the one half seeks in vain its fellow. +Dear, we are both exactly two such unhappy creatures. With us there are +so many sympathies, antipathies, thoughts, dreams, and wishes in common. +We understand each other by means of only half a hint, half a word--nay, +even without words. And yet our ways must lie apart. Alas! this is now +the second time in my life----" + +"Yes, I know it." + +"Has he told you this?" asked Shurochka eagerly. + +"No; it was only by accident I got to know it." + +They were both silent. In the sky the first stars began to light up and +display themselves to the eye as little, trembling, emerald, sparkling +points. From the right you might hear a weak echo of voices, laughter +and the strains of a song; but in all the rest of the wood, which was +sunk in soft, caressing darkness, reigned a deep, mysterious silence. +The great blazing pyre was not visible from this spot in the woods, but +the crests from the nearest oaks now and then reflected the flaming red +glow that, by its rapid changes from darkness to light, reminded one of +distant and vivid sheet-lightning. Shurochka softly and silently +caressed Romashov's hair and face. When he succeeded in seizing her +fingers between his lips, she herself pressed the palm of her hand +against his mouth. + +"I do not love my husband," she said slowly and in an absent voice. "He +is rough, indelicate, and devoid of any trace of fine feeling. Ah, I +blush when I speak of it--we women never forget how a man first takes +forcible possession of us. Besides, he is so insanely jealous. Even +to-day he worries me about that wretched Nasanski. He forces confessions +from me, and makes the most insignificant events of those times the +ground for the wildest conclusions. Ah--shame, he has unblushingly dared +to put the most disgusting questions to me. Good God! all that was only +an innocent, childish romance, but the mere mention of Nasanski's name +makes him furious." + +Now and then, whilst she spoke, a nervous trembling was noticeable in +her voice, and her hand, still continuing its caress, was thrilled, as +it were, by a shudder. + +"Are you cold?" asked Romashov. + +"No, dear--not at all," she replied gently. "The night is so +bewitchingly beautiful, you know." Suddenly, with a burst of +uncontrollable passion, she exclaimed, "Oh, my beloved, how sweet to be +here with you." + +Romashov took her hand, softly caressed the delicate fingers, and said +in a shy, diffident tone: + +"Tell me, I beg you. You have just said yourself that you do not love +your husband. Why, then, do you live together?" + +She arose with a rapid movement, sat up, and began nervously to pass her +hands over her forehead and cheeks, as if she had awakened from a dream. + +"It's late; let us go. Perhaps they are even now looking for us," she +answered in a calm and completely altered voice. + +They got up from the grass, and both stood for a while silent, listening +to each other's breathings, eye to eye, but with lowered gaze. + +"Good-bye," she suddenly cried in a silvery voice. "Good-bye, my +bliss--my brief bliss." + +She twined her arms round his neck and pressed her moist, burning-hot +lips to his mouth. With clenched teeth and a sigh of intense passion she +pressed her body to his. To Romashov's eyes the black trunks of the oaks +seemed to reel and softly bend towards the ground, where the objects ran +into each other and disappeared before his eyes. Time stood still.... + +By a violent jerk she released herself from his arms, and said in a firm +voice: + +"Farewell--enough. Let us go." + +Romashov without a sound sank down on the grass at her feet, embracing +her knees, and pressing his lips against her dress in long, hot kisses. + +"Sascha--Saschenka," he whispered, having now lost all self-command, +"have pity on me." + +"Get up, Georgi Alexandrovich! Come--they might take us unawares. Let us +return to the others." + +They proceeded on their way in the direction from which they heard the +sound of voices. Romashov's temples throbbed, his knees gave way, and +he stumbled like a drunken man. + +"No, I will not," Shurochka answered at last in a fevered, panting +voice. "I will not betray him. Besides, it would be something even worse +than betrayal--it would be cowardice. Cowardice enters into every +betrayal. I'll tell you the whole truth. I have never deceived my +husband, and I shall remain faithful to him until the very moment when I +shall release myself from him--for ever. His kisses and caresses are +disgusting to me, and listen, now--no, even before--when I thought of +you and your kisses, I understood what ineffable bliss it would be to +surrender myself wholly to the man I love. But to steal such a +joy--never. I hate deceit and treacherous ways." + +They were approaching the spot where the picnic had taken place, and the +flames from the pyre shone from between the trees, the coarse, +bark-covered trunks of which were sharply outlined against the fire, and +looked as if they were molten in some black metal. + +"Well," resumed Romashov, "if I shake off my sluggishness, if I succeed +in attaining the same goal as that for which your husband is striving, +or perhaps even something still higher--would you then ...?" + +She pressed her cheek hard against his shoulder, and answered +impetuously and passionately-- + +"Yes, then, then!" + +They gained the open. All the vast, burning pyre was visible; around it +a crowd of small, dark figures were moving. + +"Listen, Romochka, to still another last word." Shurochka spoke fast, +and there was a note of sorrow and anguish in her voice. "I did not +like to spoil this evening for you, but now it must be told. You must +not call at my house any more." + +He stopped abruptly before her with a look of intense astonishment. "Not +call? But tell me the reason, Sascha. What has happened?" + +"Come, come; I don't know, but somebody is writing anonymous letters to +my husband. He has not shown them to me, only casually mentioned several +things about them. The foulest and most disgusting stories are being +manufactured about you and me. In short, I beg you not to come to us any +more." + +"Sascha," he moaned, as he stretched out his arms to her. + +"O my friend, my dearest and most beloved. Who will suffer more from +this than I? But it is unavoidable. And listen to this, too. I am afraid +he is going to speak to you about this. I beseech you, for God's sake, +not to lose your temper. Promise me you won't." + +"That is all right; don't be afraid," Romashov replied in a gloomy tone. + +"That is all. Farewell, poor friend. Give me your hand once more and +squeeze mine tight, quite tight, till it hurts. Oh! good-bye, darling, +darling." + +They separated without going closer to the fire. Shurochka walked +straight up the slope. Romashov took a devious path downwards along the +shore. The card-playing was still going on, but their absence had been +remarked, and when Romashov approached the fire, Ditz greeted him so +insolently, and with such a vulgar attack of coughing in order to draw +attention, that Romashov could hardly restrain himself from flinging a +firebrand at his face. + +Directly after this he noticed that Nikoläiev left his game, took +Shurochka aside, and talked to her for some time with angry gestures and +looks of hatred. Suddenly she pulled herself together, and answered him +in a few words with an indescribable expression of indignation and +contempt on her features. And that big, strong man all at once +shrivelled up humbly in her presence, like a whipped hound which +obediently goes its way, but gnashes its teeth with suppressed fury. + +The party broke up soon after this. The night felt chilly, and a raw +mist rose from the little river. The common stock of good humour and +merriment had long been exhausted, and all separated, weary, drowsy, and +without hiding their yawns. Romashov was soon once more sitting in his +trap, opposite the Misses Michin, but he never uttered a word during the +course of the journey. Before his mind's eye still stood the mighty dark +and silent trees and the blood-red sunset over the brow of the woodland +hill. There, too, in the soft, scented grass, he saw beside him a female +shape robed in white, but during all his intense, consuming pain and +longing, he did not fail to say of himself, pathetically-- + +"And over his handsome countenance swept a cloud of sorrow." + + + + +XIV + + +In May the regiment went into camp, which, year after year, was pitched +in the same spot outside the town, and not far from the railway. The +young officers had, whilst the camp was on, according to the +regulations, to live in wooden barracks near their respective companies; +but Romashov continued to enjoy his own dwelling in the town, as the +officers' barracks of the 6th Company had long been in a ruinous and +uninhabitable condition, on account of there being no money available +for repairs. Every day he had to journey four times between the town and +the camp. In the morning off to the camp for drill, thence back to the +officers' mess in the town for his dinner; after that, off to the +afternoon exercises, and, finally, at night, his last walk back to his +home. This fatiguing life was seriously affecting his health. After the +first fortnight he began to get thin and hollow-eyed, and soon lost the +fresh colour of his cheeks. + +Even the rest, officers as well as men, fared little better. +Preparations were being made for the great General Review, and nobody +ventured to speak of fatigue or weariness. The Captains of companies +exhausted the utmost strength of their men by two or three hours' extra +drill every day. During all the drill the smacking sound of ears being +boxed and other maltreatment was heard all over the plain. More than +once Romashov noticed how the Captains, in a furious rage, like wild +beasts, attacked the poor recruits, and boxed the ears of the entire +line from first to last; but, nevertheless, the "non-coms." displayed +the greatest cruelty. They punished with unbridled rage the slightest +mistake in marching or manual exercise; teeth were knocked out, drums of +the ears were broken, and the defenceless victims were thrown down +senseless. But none of all these martyrs ever entertained the thought of +drawing a sword. It was just as if the whole regiment had become the +prey of a wild hypnosis or had been attacked by nightmare. And all these +terrors and sufferings were multiplied by a fearful heat, for May this +year was unusually hot. + +Wherever you went an unnatural nervousness was discernible. The most +absurd quarrels would, all of a sudden, break out during meals at the +officers' mess. They insulted each other, and sought quarrels without +rhyme or reason. The soldiers, with their sunken cheeks and sallow eyes, +looked like idiots. Never, during the few hours' rest they were allowed +to enjoy, was a laugh heard from the tents; never a joke. At night, +after bugle-call, the rank and file were ordered to get into line for +games and singing, and with an absolutely apathetic expression of voice +and features they howled the old campsong-- + + "Oh, the gallant Russian soldier, + Fear with him can find no place; + He, when bombs are bursting round him, + Calls them 'brother' to their face." + +Then a dance would be played on the harmonium, and the ensign would roar +out-- + +"Gregorash, Skvortzov, up and dance, you hounds!" + +The two recruits obeyed the order without a murmur, but in both their +song and dance there lay something dead, mechanical, and resigned, at +which one was inclined to weep. + +Only in the 5th Company were they easy-going and free, and there the +drills began every day an hour later than the rest and were concluded an +hour earlier. You might have fancied that every member of it had been +specially chosen, for they all looked lively, well-fed. The lads of the +5th Company looked their officers bravely and openly in the face, and +the very _rubashka_[19] was worn with a certain aristocratic elegance. +Their commander, Stelikovski--a very eccentric old bachelor and +comparatively rich (he drew from some unknown quarter two hundred +roubles every month), was of an independent character, with a dry +manner, who stood aloof from his comrades, and lastly, was in bad odour +on account of his dissolute life. He attracted and hired young girls +from the lower class, often minors, and these he paid handsomely, and +sent back to their native places after the lapse of a month. Corporal +punishment--nay, even threats and insulting words--were strictly +forbidden in his company, although, as far as that goes, there was by no +means any coddling of the men, who, however, in appearance, and +readiness, and capability, were not inferior to any company of guardsmen +in existence. Being himself masterful, cool, and self-reliant in the +highest degree, he was also able to implant those qualities firmly in +his subordinates. What, in other companies, could not be attained after +a whole week's drill amid threats, yells, and oaths, blows and stripes, +Stelikovski attained with the greatest calm in a single day. He was a +man of few words, seldom raised his voice, and when, on occasion, he did +speak, the soldiers stood as if carved in stone. Among the officers he +was shunned and hated, but worshipped by his men--a state of things +that, most certainly, was unique in the whole of the Russian Army. + +At length the 15th of May arrived, when the Great Review, ordered by the +Brigadier-General, was to take place. In all the companies, except the +5th, the non-coms. had their men drawn up by 4 a.m. The poor, tortured, +drowsy, gaping soldiers were trembling as though with cold in their +coarse shirts, although the air was mild and balmy and the weather +serene, and their gloomy, depressed glances and sallow, greyish, chalky +faces gave a painful impression in the gleaming, bright summer morning. + +When the clock struck six, the officers began to join their companies. +The regiment had not to be assembled and in line before 10 a.m., but, +with the exception of Stelikovski, not one of the Captains thought of +letting their poor wearied soldiers have their proper sleep and gain +strength for the toils awaiting them that day. On the contrary, never +had their fussiness and zeal been greater than on this morning. The air +was thick with oaths, threats, and insults; ear-boxing, slaps on the +mouth, kicks, and blows with the fist rained down, at each slightest +blunder, on the miserable, utterly exhausted soldiers. + +At 9 a.m. the companies marched to the parade-ground, about five hundred +paces in front of the camp. Sixteen outposts, provided with small, +multi-coloured flags for signalling, were stationed in an absolutely +straight line about half a verst long, so as to mark out, with +mathematical accuracy, the points where each company's right wing should +be placed at the parade past the Brigadier-General. Lieutenant Kováko, +who had been allotted this highly important task, was, of course, one of +the heroes of the day, and, conscious of this, he galloped, like a +madman--red, perspiring, and with his cap on his neck--backwards and +forwards along the line, shouting and swearing, and also belabouring +with his sabre the ribs of his lean white charger. The poor beast, grown +grey with age and having a cataract in its right eye, waved its short +tail convulsively. Yes, on Lieutenant Kováko and his outposts depended +the whole regiment's weal and woe, for it was he who bore the awful +responsibility of the sixteen companies' respective "gaps" and +"dressing." + +Precisely at ten minutes to 10 a.m., the 5th Company marched out of +camp. With brisk, long, measured steps, that made the earth tremble, +these hundred men marched past all the other companies and took their +place in the line. They formed a splendid, select corps; lithe, muscular +figures with straight backs and brave bearing, clean, shining faces, and +the little peakless cap tipped coquettishly over the right ear. Captain +Stelikovski--a little thin man, displaying himself in tremendously wide +breeches--carelessly promenaded, without troubling himself in the least +about the time his troops kept when marching, five paces on the side of +the right flank, peering amusedly, and now and then shaking his head +whimsically now to the right, now to the left, as though to control the +troops' "dressing" and attention. Colonel Liech, the commander of the +battalion, who, like the rest of the officers, had been, ever since +dawn, in a state of examination-fever and nervous irritability, rushed +up to Stelikovski with furious upbraidings for having "come too late." +The latter slowly and coolly took out his watch, glanced at it, and +replied in a dry, almost contemptuous tone: + +"The commander of the regiment ordered me to be here by ten o'clock. It +still wants three minutes to that hour. I do not consider I am justified +in worrying and exerting my men unnecessarily." + +"Don't, if you please," croaked Liech, gesticulating and pulling his +reins. "I must ask you to be silent when your superior officer makes a +remark." + +But he only too well understood that he was wrong and would get the +worst of it, and he rode quickly on, and visited his wrath on the 8th +Company, whose officers had ordered the knapsacks to be opened. + +"What the deuce are you about? What is this foolery? Are you thinking of +opening a bazaar or a general shop? This is just like beginning a hunt +by cramming the hounds with food. Close your knapsacks and put them on +quickly. You ought to have thought of this before." + +At a quarter to eleven they began dressing the companies on the lines +laid down. This was for all a very minute, tedious, and troublesome +task. Between the _échelons_ long ropes were tightly stretched along the +ground. Every soldier in the front rank was obliged to see, with the +most painful accuracy, that his toes just grazed the tightly-stretched +rope, for in that lay the fundamental condition of the faultless +dressing of the long front. Moreover, the distance between the toes, +like the breadth of the gun-stock and the somewhat inclined position of +the upper part of the body, had to be the same along the whole line. +While anxiously superintending these details the Captains often flew +into a towering rage. Frantic shouts and angry words of command were +heard everywhere: "Ivanoff, more forward, you--Syaroschtan, right +shoulder forward, left back!" + +At 10.30 a.m. the commander of the regiment arrived. He rode on a +powerful chestnut-brown gelding with white legs. Colonel Shulgovich was +an imposing, almost majestic, figure on horseback. He had a firm "seat," +although he rode in infantry style, with stirrups far too short. In +greeting his regiment he yelled in his tremendous voice, in which a +certain jubilant heroic note in honour of the occasion was audible-- + +"Good morning, my fine fellows." + +Romashov, who remembered his 4th platoon and especially Kliabnikov's +wretched appearance, could not refrain from smiling. "Pretty choice +specimens, in all truth," thought he. + +The standards were unfurled amidst the strident notes of the regimental +band. After this came a long and trying moment. Straight away to the +station, from which the Brigadier-General was expected, were posted a +number of signallers who, by certain arranged signs, were to prepare the +regiment for the approach of the Generals. More than once they were +disturbed by a false alarm. The loose, slack ropes were once more +tightened in mad haste, "dressings" and "lines" were ordered, and all +stood for several minutes at the most painful "attention," until +weariness once more asserted its claims, and the poor soldiers +collapsed, yet, at the very last, striving to keep the position of their +feet, at any rate, unmoved. Out in the plain, about three hundred paces +off, the ladies displayed their clothes, parasols, and hats of +variegated and loud colours. Romashov knew very well that Shurochka was +not in that bright, festive group. But every time he glanced in that +direction he felt, as it were, an icy-cold shudder in the region of his +heart, and his quick, nervous breathing bore witness to a strong inward +excitement. + +Suddenly, like a strong gust of wind, a rumour ran through the ranks, +and a timorous cry was heard: "He's coming; he's coming!" It was clear +to all that the important, eventful moment was approaching. The +soldiers, who had been since dawn the victims of the prevailing +excitement, dressed in their ranks without orders, but with a certain +nervous haste, and became rigid in apparently lifeless immobility. Now +and then a nervous coughing was heard. + +"Ranks, attention!" rang out Shulgovich's order. + +Romashov, glancing to the right, discovered, at a good distance down the +plain, a small but dense group of horsemen who, now and then obscured +for an instant by a faint yellow cloud of dust, were rapidly approaching +the front. Shulgovich rode, with a severe and solemn countenance, from +his place in front of the middle company, right out into the plain, most +certainly a good fourth further than the regulations demanded. The +tremendous importance of the moment was reflected in his features. With +a gesture of noble dignity, he first glanced upwards, then calmed the +dark, motionless mass of soldiers by a glance, withering, it is true, +but mingled with tremulous exultation, and then let his stentorian voice +roll over the plain, when commanding-- + +"Attention! Should--er----" + +He purposely kept back the last syllable of that longest word of +command--the so-called "effective" word, just as if an infinite power +and sanctity lay hidden in the pronunciation of those few wretched +letters. His countenance became a bluish-red, the veins in his neck were +strained like thick cords, and, finally, the releasing word was +discernible in the wild-beast-like roar-- + +"---- arms!" + +One--two. A thousand slamming and rattling of hard blows from soldiers' +fists on the stocks of their rifles, and the violent contact of locks +with the coarse metal clasps of belts echoed through the air. At the +same moment the electrifying strains of the regimental march were +audible from the right wing. Like wild, excited, undisciplined children +let loose, the flutes and cornets ran riot, trying by their shrill, +ear-piercing voices to drown the coarse bellowing of trombones and +ophicleides, whilst the thunder of drums and kettledrums, warning and +threatening, exhorted frivolous, thoughtless young men of the +consideration due to the seriousness and supreme importance of the +moment. From the station there rang out, almost like a soothing +piccolo-strain, the whistle of the engine, mingling harmoniously with +the joyful music of the band. + +Romashov suddenly felt himself caught, as it were, by a mighty, roaring +wave that, irresistibly and exultingly, carried him away. With a +sensation of joy and courage such as he had never experienced before, +his glance met the sun's gold-steeped rays, and it seemed to him as if, +at that moment, he was, for the first time, conscious of the blue sky +paled by the heat, and the warm verdure of the plain that disappeared in +the far distance. For once he felt young and strong and eager to +distinguish himself; proud, too, of belonging to this magnificent, +motionless, imposing mass of men, gathered together and quelled by an +invisible, mysterious will. + +Shulgovich, with his sabre drawn to a level with his face, rode in a +ponderous gallop to meet the General. + +Directly the band's rough martial, triumphant strains had ceased, the +General's calm, musical voice rang out-- + +"Good-day, 1st Company." + +The soldiers answered his salutation promptly and joyfully. Again the +locomotive made its voice heard, but this time in the form of a sharp, +defiant signal. The Brigadier-General rode slowly along the line, +saluting the companies in their proper order. Romashov could already +distinguish his heavy, obese figure with the thin linen jacket turned up +in deep folds across his chest and fat belly; his big square face turned +towards the troops; the gorgeous saddle-cloth with his monogram +embroidered in bright colours, the majestic grey charger, the ivory +rings on the martingale, and patent-leather riding boots. + +"Good-day, 6th Company." + +The soldiers round Romashov replied with a shout that was pretty nearly +destructive both to throats and ear-drums. The General sat his horse +with the careless grace of an accomplished rider. His noble charger, +with the gentle, steadfast glance from his handsome, though slightly +bloodshot eyes, tugged hard at its bit, from which, now and then, a few +white foam-drops fell to the ground, and careered gently on with short, +quick, dancing steps. + +"He's grey about the temples, but his moustache is black--dyed, +perhaps," was Romashov's reflection just then. + +Through his gold-rimmed _pince-nez_ the General answered with his dark, +clever, youthful and satirically questioning eyes the soldiers' glances +directed at him. When he came up to Romashov he touched the peak of his +cap with his hand. Romashov stood quite still, with every muscle +strained in the most correct attitude of "attention," and he clasped the +hilt of his sabre with such a hard, crushing grip that it almost caused +him pain. A shudder of infinite, enthusiastic devotion rushed through +his whole being, and whilst looking fixedly at the General's face, he +thought to himself in his old naïve, childish way-- + +"The grey-haired old warrior's glances noted with delight the young +ensign's slender, well-built figure." + +The General continued his slow ride along the front, saluting company +after company. Behind him moved his suite--a promiscuous, resplendent +group of staff officers, whose horses shone with profuse rubbing down +and dressing. Romashov glanced at them, too, benevolently, but not one +of them took the slightest notice of him. These spoilt favourites of +fortune had long since had more than enough of parades, reviews, and the +boundless enthusiasm of little, insignificant infantry officers, and +Romashov felt in his heart a bitter, rebellious feeling at the thought +that these superior people belonged to a world quite beyond his reach. + +The band suddenly received a sign to stop playing. The General returned +at a sharp trot to the right wing, and after him, in a long, variegated +line, his mounted suite. Colonel Shulgovich galloped off to the 1st +Company. Pulling his reins and throwing all his enormous body back in +the saddle, he yelled in a hoarse and trembling voice-- + +"Captain Osadchi, advance company. Quick, march!" + +Between the commander of the regiment and Captain Osadchi there was an +incessant rivalry, during drill hours, to outdo each other in lung +power, and not many seconds elapsed before the latter was heard to order +in his mighty, rolling bass-- + +"Company, shoulder arms! Dress in the middle. Forward, march!" Osadchi +had, with fearful sacrifice of time and labour, succeeded in introducing +in his company a new kind of marching. This consisted in the soldiers +raising their foot high in the air in very slow time, and afterwards +putting it down on the ground with the greatest possible force. This +wonderful and imposing manner of moving along the ground excited not +only much interest, but also a certain envy among the other captains of +companies. + +But the 1st Company had hardly marched fifty paces before they heard the +General's angry and impatient voice exclaim-- + +"What the deuce is this? Halt with the company. Halt, halt! Come here to +me, Captain. Tell me, sir, what in the name of goodness that is supposed +to represent. Is it a funeral or a torch procession? Say. March in +three-time. Listen, sir, we're not living in the days of Nicholas, when +a soldier served for twenty-five years. How many precious days have you +wasted in practising this _corps de ballet_? Answer me." + +Osadchi stood gloomy, still and silent before his angry chief, with his +drawn sabre pointing to the ground. The General was silent for an +instant, and then resumed his harangue with an expression of sorrow and +irony in his voice-- + +"By this sort of insanity you will soon succeed in extinguishing the +last spark of life in your soldiers. Don't you think so yourself? Oh, +you luckless ghosts from Ivan the Cruel's days! But enough of this. +Allow me instead to ask you, Captain, the name of this young lad." + +"Ignati Mikhailovich, your Excellency," replied Osadchi in the dry, +sepulchral, regulation voice. + +"Well and good. But what do you know about him? Is he a bachelor, or has +he a wife and children? Perhaps he has some trouble at home? Or he is +very poor? Answer me." + +"I can't say, your Excellency? I have a hundred men under my command. It +is hard to remember all about them." + +"Hard to remember, did you say?" repeated the General in a sad and +serious voice. "Ah, gentlemen, gentlemen. You must certainly know what +the Scripture says: 'Do not destroy the soul,' and what are you doing? +That poor, grey, wretched creature standing there, may, perhaps, some +day, in the hour of battle, protect you by his body, carry you on his +shoulders out of a hail of bullets, may, with his ragged cloak, protect +you against snow and frost, and yet you have nothing to say about him, +but 'I can't say!'" + +In his nervous excitement the General pulled in the reins and shouted +over Osadchi's head, in an angry voice, to the commander of the +regiment-- + +"Colonel, get this company out of my way. I have had enough. Nothing but +marionettes and blockheads." + +From that moment the fate of the regiment was sealed. The terrified +soldiers' absolute exhaustion, the non-coms.' lunatical cruelty, the +officers' incapacity, indifference, and laziness--all this came out +clearly as the review proceeded. In the 2nd Company the soldiers did not +even know the Lord's Prayer. In the 3rd, the officers ran like wild +fowls when the company was to be drilled in "open order." In the 4th, +the manual exercise was below criticism, etc. The worst of all was, +however, that none of the companies, with the exception of the 5th, knew +how to meet a sudden charge of cavalry. Now, this was precisely the +General's hobby; he had published independently copious instructions on +this, in which he pointed out minutely the vital importance of the +troops' mobility and quickness, and of their leader's resolution and +deliberation. + +After each company had in turn been reviewed, the General commanded the +officers, both commissioned and non-commissioned, to go out of ear-shot, +after which he questioned the soldiers with regard to their wishes and +grounds of complaint; but everywhere he met with the same good-humoured +reply: "Satisfied with everything, your Excellency." When that question +was put to No. 1 Company, Romashov heard an ensign in it remark in a +threatening voice-- + +"Just let me hear any one daring to complain; I'll give him +'complaints'!" + +For the 5th Company only was the whole review a complete triumph. The +brave, young, lusty soldiers executed all their movements with life and +energy, and with such facility, mobility, and absence of all pedantry +that the whole of the review seemed to officers and men, not a severe, +painful examination, but like a jolly and amusing game. The General +smiled his satisfaction, and soon could not refrain from a "Well done, +my lads"--the first words of approval he uttered during the whole time. + +When, however, the ominous pretended charge was to be met, Stelikovski +literally took the old General by storm. The General himself started the +exercise by suddenly shouting to the commander of the company: "Cavalry +from the right, eight hundred paces." Stelikovski formed, without a +second's hesitation and with the greatest calm and precision, his +company to meet the supposed enemy, which seemed to approach at a +furious gallop. With compactly closed ranks--the fore-rank in a kneeling +position--the troops fired two or three rounds, immediately after which +was heard the fateful command: "Quick fire!" + +"Thanks, my children," cried the old General joyously--"that's the way +it should be done. Thanks, thanks." + +After the oral examination the company was drawn up in open file; but +the General delayed his final dismissal. It was as if it seemed hard to +him to say good-bye to this company. Passing as slowly as possible along +the front, he observed every soldier with particular and deep interest, +and a very delighted smile gleamed through the _pince-nez_ from the +clever eyes beneath the heavy, prominent eyebrows. Suddenly he stopped +his charger, turned round on his saddle to the head of his staff, and +exclaimed-- + +"No; come here and look, Colonel, what muzzles the rascals have. What do +you feed them on, Captain? Pies? Hi, you thick nose" (he pointed to a +young soldier in the ranks), "your name's Kovál?" + +"Mikhail Borichuk, your Excellency," boldly replied the young recruit +with a frank, happy smile. + +"Oh, you scamp, I thought you were called Kovál. Well, this time I was +out of my reckoning," said the General in fun, "but there's no harm +done; better luck next time," he added, with the same good-humour. + +At these words the soldier's countenance puckered in a broad grin. + +"No, your Excellency, you are not wrong at all," shouted the soldier in +a raised voice. "At home, in the village, I am employed as a farrier, +and, therefore, they call me Kovál." + +The General nodded in delight, and he was evidently very proud of his +memory. "Well, Captain, is he a good soldier?" + +"Very good, General. All my soldiers are good," replied Stelikovski in +his usual confident tone. + +The General's eyebrows were knitted, but his lips kept smiling, and the +crabbed old face gradually resumed its light and friendly expression. +"Well, well, Captain; we will see about that. How is the +punishment-list?" + +"Your Excellency, for five years not a single man in my company has been +punished." + +The General bent forward heavily and held out to Stelikovski his hairy +hand in the white, unbuttoned glove that had slipped down to the +knuckles. + +"I heartily thank you, my friend," he replied in a trembling voice, and +tears glistened in his eyes. The General, like many old warriors, liked, +now and then, to shed a slight tear. "Again my thanks for having given +an old man pleasure. And you, too, my brave boys, accept my thanks," he +shouted in a loud and vigorous voice to the soldiers. + +Thanks to the good impression left behind from Stelikovski's +inspection, the review of the 6th Company also went off nearly +satisfactorily; the General did certainly not bestow praise, but neither +were any reproaches heard. At the bayonet attack on the straw mannikin +this company even went astray. + +"Not that way, not that way, not that way!" screamed the General, +shaking with wrath in the saddle. "Hold, stop! that's damnable. You go +to work as if you were making a hole in soft bread. Listen, boys. That's +not the way to deal with an enemy. The bayonet should be driven in +forcibly and furiously right in the waist up to the muzzle of your +rifle. Don't forget." + +The remaining companies made, one after the other, a hopeless "hash" of +everything. At last the General's outburst of anger ceased. Tired and +listless, he watched the miserable spectacle with gloomy looks, and, +without uttering a word, he entirely excused himself from inspecting the +15th and 16th Companies, exclaiming with a gesture of disgust-- + +"Enough, enough of such abortions." + +There still remained the grand march past, and the parade. The whole +regiment was formed into columns with half companies in front, and +reduced gaps. Again the everlasting markers were ordered out to set the +line of march by their ropes. The heat was now almost unbearable, and +the soldiers could hardly bear any longer the fearful stench that exuded +from their own freely perspiring bodies. + +But for the forthcoming "solemn" march past, the men now made a final +effort to pull themselves together. The officers almost besought their +subordinates to strain every nerve for this final proof of their +endurance and discipline. "Brothers, for the honour of the regiment, do +your best. Save yourselves and us from disgracing ourselves before the +General." In this humble recourse on the part of the officers to their +subordinates there lay--besides much else that was little edifying--too, +an indirect recognition of their own faults and shortcomings. The wrath +aroused in such a great personage as the General of the regiment was +felt to be equally painful and oppressive to officers and troops alike, +and it had, to some extent, a levelling effect, so that all were, in an +equally high degree, dispirited, nervous, and apathetic. + +"Attention! The band in front!" ordered Colonel Shulgovich, in the far +distance. + +And all these fifteen hundred human beings for a second suppressed their +faint inward murmurings; all muscles were once more strained, and again +they stood in nervous, painful expectation. + +Shulgovich could not be detected by any eye, but his tremendous voice +again rang across the field-- + +"Stand at ease!" + +Four battalion Captains turned in their saddles to their respective +divisions, and each uttered the command-- + +"Battalion, stand at----" after which they awaited with feverish +nervousness the word of command. + +Somewhere, far away on the field, a sabre suddenly gleamed like +lightning in the air. This was the desired signal, and all the Captains +at once roared-- + +"---- ease!" whereupon all the regiment, with a dull thud, grounded +their rifles. Here and there was heard the click of a few unfortunate +bayonets which, in the movement, happened to clash together. + +But now, at last, the solemn, never-to-be-forgotten moment had arrived, +when the commander of the regiment's tremendous lungs were to be heard +by the world in all their awful majesty. Solemnly, confidently, but, at +the same time, menacingly, like slow rumblings of thunder, the strongly +accentuated syllables rolled across the plain in the command-- + +"March past!" + +In the next moment you might hear sixteen Captains risking their lives +in mad attempt to shout each other down, when they repeated all at +once-- + +"March past!" + +One single poor sinner far away in detail of the column managed to come +too late. He whined in a melancholy falsetto: + +"March pa--!" + +The rest of the word was unfortunately lost to the men, and probably +drowned in the oaths and threats of the bystanders. + +"Column in half companies!" roared Colonel Shulgovich. + +"Column in half companies!" repeated the Captains. + +"With double platoon--hollow!" chanted Shulgovich. + +"With double platoon--hollow!" answered the choir. + +"Dress-ing--ri-ight!" thundered the giant. + +"Dress-ing--ri-ight!" came from the dwarfs. + +Shulgovich now took breath for two or three seconds, after which he once +more gave vent to his voice of thunder in the command-- + +"First half company--forward--march!" + +Rolling heavily through the dense ranks across the level plain came +Osadchi's dull roar-- + +"First half company, dress to the right--forward--march!" + +Away in the front was heard the merry rattle of drums. Seen from the +rear, the column resembled a forest of bayonets which often enough waved +backwards and forwards. + +"Second half company to the middle!" Romashov recognized Artschakovski's +squeaky falsetto. + +A new line of bayonets assumed a leaning position and departed. The +thunder of the drums grew more and more faint, and was just about to +sink down, as it were, and be absorbed in the ground, when suddenly the +last sounds of drum-beats were dispersed by the rhythmically jubilant, +irresistible waves of music from the wind instruments. The sleepy +marching time of the companies filing past at once caught fire and life; +languid eyes and greyish cheeks regained their colour, and tired muscles +were once more braced to save the honour of the regiment. + +The half companies proceeded to march, one after the other, and at every +step the soldiers' torpid spirits were revived under the influence of +the band's cheerful strains. The 1st Battalion's last company had +already got some distance when, lo! Lieutenant-Colonel Liech advanced +gently on his thin, raven-black horse, followed close at his heels by +Olisár. Both had their sabres ready for the salute, with their +sabre-hilts' knots dangling on a level with their mouths. Soon +Stelikovski's quiet, nonchalant command was heard. High above the +bayonets, the standard lorded on its long pole, and it was now the 6th +Company's turn to march. Captain Sliva stepped to the front and +inspected his men by a glance from his pale, prominent, fishy eyes. With +his miserable shrunken figure stooping, and his long arms, he had a +striking resemblance to an ugly old monkey. + +"F-irst half company--forward!" + +With a light and elegant step Romashov hurried to his place right in +front of the second half company's pivot. A blissful, intoxicating +feeling of pride came over him whilst he allowed his glance to glide +quickly over the first row of his division. "The old swashbuckler viewed +with an eagle's eyes the brave band of veterans," he declaimed silently, +after which in a prolonged sing-song he gave the order-- + +"Second half company--forward!" + +"One, two," Romashov counted softly to himself, marking time with a soft +stamping on the spot. Pronouncing the word at the right moment was of +infinite importance, as upon it depended the exact carrying out of the +inexorable command that the half company should begin marching with the +proper foot, i.e., with the same foot as the preceding division, "left, +right; left, right." At last a start was made. With head erect, and +beaming with a smile of boundless happiness, he cried in a loud, +resonant voice-- + +"March!" + +A second afterwards he made, as quick as lightning, a complete turn on +one foot towards his men, and commanded, two tones lower in the scale-- + +"Dress--right!" + +The profound solemnity and "infinite beauty" of the moment almost took +away his breath. At that instant it seemed to him as if the music's +waves of melody surrounded him, and were changed into a seething, +blinding ocean of light and fire; as if these deafening brazen peals had +descended on him from on high, from heaven, from the sun. Even now, as +at his last never-to-be-forgotten tryst with Shurochka, he was thrilled +by a freezing, petrifying shudder that made the very hair on his head +stand up. + +With joy in their voices and in time with the music, the 5th Company +replied to the General's salute. Nearer and nearer to Romashov sounded +the jubilant notes of the parade march. On the right and onwards, he +could now distinguish the General's heavy figure on his grey horse, and, +somewhat farther off, the ladies' brilliant dresses, which, in the +blinding glare of the noon-day sun, reminded him of the flaming +flower-petals in the old sagas. On the left gleamed the bandsmen's gold +instruments, and it seemed to Romashov as if, between the General and +the band, was drawn an invisible, enchanted thread, the passing of which +was combined peril and bliss. + +At this moment the first half company reached "the thread." + +"Good, my lads," rang the General's delighted voice. "Ah, ah, ah, ah!" +was the soldiers' rapid, joyous answer. Stronger and stronger at every +second grew the alluring influence of the parade march, and Romashov +could hardly restrain his feelings any longer. "O thou, my ideal," +thought he of the General, with deep emotion. + +The blissful moment had come. With elastic strides that scarcely touched +the ground, Romashov approached his "enchanted thread." He threw his +head bravely back with a proud and defiant twist to the left. So potent +a feeling of lightness, freedom, and bliss rushed through his being that +he fancied he could at any moment whirl himself into space. And while he +felt he was an object of delight and admiration to the eyes of all--a +centre of all the universe contains of strength, beauty, and delight, he +said to himself, as though under the witchery of a heavenly dream-- + +"Look, look, there goes Romashov! The ladies' eyes are shining with love +and admiration. One, two; left, right, 'Colonel Shulgovich,' shouts the +General, 'your Romashov is a priceless jewel; he must be my Adjutant.' +Left, right! One, two!" + +Another second and Romashov knew he had started and passed his mystic +"thread." The parade march had changed to a joyous peal of trumpets +announcing victory. "Now comes the General's salute and thanks," thought +Romashov, and his soul returns to the regions of bliss; but he fancies +he hears the Colonel's voice and certain other voices. + +"What has happened; what is the matter? Of course the General has +saluted, but why don't my men respond?--What's this?" + +Romashov turned round, and his face became white. Instead of a +well-ordered troop in two lines as straight as an arrow, his men formed +a shapeless mass--a crowd--resembling a flock of sheep--of individuals +mad with imbecility and misery, pushing and jolting each other. The +cause of this was that Romashov, whilst he was in his paradisaical world +of dreams and intoxication of victory, failed to notice that, step by +step, he deviated from the line of march, and more and more approached +the right wing of his division. His trusty, unfortunate "markers" +followed close on the heels of their leader, and, of course, in +consequence of this the whole of the half company finally got into the +wildest confusion. Romashov saw all this at the very moment he became +aware that the wretched Khliabnikov was stalking, on his own account, +twenty paces behind the division, right under the very nose of the +General. + +Romashov immediately let his wings droop. Covered with dust, he stood +quite still to await and collect his poor veterans, who, absolutely dead +beaten with the weight of their knapsacks and ammunition, were now +hardly able to crawl along on all-fours with one hand still grasping the +rifle and the other fumbling in the air or in the region of their +perspiring noses. + +To Romashov it seemed as if the glorious May sun had suddenly lost its +radiance; as if he had been buried under an infinite weight, under sand +and gravel, and that the music that so lately sounded such triumphant +strains now rang softly and ominously in his ears, like a funeral march. +And he felt so small and weak and wretched, so loathsome in every +respect, that it was all he could do to keep himself upright on his +leaden, palsied legs. + +The Colonel's Adjutant at that moment rushed up to him. Federovski's +face was as red as fire and distorted with passion. His lower jaw +trembled, and he was panting with rage and his hard riding. Even at a +distance he began shrieking like a man possessed, and uttering +inarticulate and incomprehensible words. + +"Sub-lieutenant Romashov, the commander of your regiment condemns, in +the strongest terms, your behaviour to-day. Seven days' arrest in the +staff cells. What a monstrous scandal! The whole regiment--on account of +you. Oh, such an abortion!" + +Romashov did not make the slightest reply, nor did he even turn his +head. And, besides, what answer could he make? Federovski had, most +certainly, a right to be furious. But the troops, the soldiers who heard +every single insulting word of the Adjutant's--what would they think? +Romashov felt at that moment a boundless hatred and contempt of +himself. "I am lost; I am dishonoured for ever. I'll shoot myself. Can I +suppose I am worthy to live! What am I? An insignificant, ridiculous, +contemptible wretch--a caricature, an ugly, disgusting, idiotic +creature. My own soldiers will laugh at me, and, behind my back, they +will make merry with nudges and secret signs, at my expense. Or, +perhaps, they will pity me. All the same, everything is lost, and +I--I'll shoot myself." + +After passing the General, all the companies made a half-turn to the +left, and then went back to their original places, where they were +successively drawn up again and in open file. Whilst waiting for the +return of the last companies to march past, the men were allowed to +"stand easy," and the officers utilized the occasion to smoke a +cigarette and chat with one another. Only Romashov stood quite alone, +silent and motionless in front of his half company. He dug the earth +incessantly with the point of his sabre, and though he cast his eyes +down fixedly, he felt he was, on all sides, a mark for curious, +sarcastic, and contemptuous glances. + +Captain Sliva purposely passed by Romashov without stopping except to +look at him, and spoke, as it were, to himself through his clenched +teeth, and in a voice hoarse and unrecognizable through hatred and +fury-- + +"Be good enough to send in to-day a request to be transferred to another +company." + +A little while afterwards Viätkin came. In his kindly, frank glance and +the drawn corners of his mouth, Romashov read that expression of pity +and compassion with which people usually regard a dog that has been run +over and crushed in the street. And, at the same time, Romashov felt +with disgust that he had, half mechanically, twisted his mouth into an +unmeaning, pitiful smile. + +"Yuri Alexievich," exclaimed Viätkin, "come and smoke a cigarette with +me," and with a click of the tongue and slightly throwing his head back, +he added in a despondent tone-- + +"Well, well, old chap!" + +Romashov's chin and the corners of his mouth twitched, and a lump came +into his throat. Tears were not far off, and he replied in the faltering +and fretful voice of an aggrieved child-- + +"No, no; not now!--I don't want to!" + +Viätkin withdrew. + +"Suppose I were to go and give that fellow Sliva a bang on his ear," +thought Romashov, buffeted here and there by his melancholy +introspections. "Or to go up to that grey-bearded General and say: +'Aren't you ashamed, at your age, to play with soldiers and torture men? +Release us from here instantly, and let us rest. For two long weeks the +soldiers have been ill-treated solely on account of you.'" + +Romashov, however, remembered his own proud, stuck-up thoughts only a +brief while ago--of the young ensign as handsome as a picture, of the +ladies' ideal, of the General's favourite future Adjutant, etc., +etc.--and he felt so much shame and pain that a deep blush overspread, +not only his face, but even his chest and back. + +"You wretched, absurd, contemptible being!" he shrieked to himself in +thought. "Let all know that I shall shoot myself to-day." + + * * * * * + +The review was over. The regiment had, nevertheless, to parade several +times before the General, first by companies in the ordinary march, +afterwards in quick march, and finally in close columns. The General +became a little less severe, as it were, and he even praised the +soldiers several times. At last the clock was close upon 4 p.m. Then at +length the men got a little rest whilst the officers assembled to +criticize them. + +The staff-trumpeter blew a signal. "The officers are summoned to the +General," it shouted through the companies. + +The officers left the ranks, and formed themselves into a dense circle +round the General, who remained on horseback, stooping and visibly +extremely tired; but he peered through his glasses as shrewdly and +scornfully as before. + +"I shall be brief," said he in an abrupt and decisive tone. "The +regiment is inefficient, but that's not the fault of the soldiers, but +of the officers. When the coachman is bad the horses will not go. +Gentlemen, you have no heart, no mind or sympathy, so far as the men's +needs and interests are concerned. Don't forget, 'Blessed is he who lays +down his life for his friend.' With you there is only one thought, 'How +shall I best please the General at the review?' You treat your men like +plough horses. The appearance of the officers witnesses to moral +slovenliness and barbarism. Here and there an officer puts me in mind of +a village sexton dressed in an officer's uniform. Moreover, I will refer +to my orders of the day in writing. An ensign, belonging probably to the +sixth or seventh company, lost his head entirely and hopelessly muddled +up his division. Such a thing is a disgrace. I do not want a jog-trot +march in three-time, but, before everything else, a sound and calm +judgment." + +"That last referred to me," thought Romashov, and he fancied he felt all +the glances of those present turned towards him at once. But nobody even +stirred: all stood speechless, petrified, with their eyes immovably +fixed on the General's face. + +"My very heartiest thanks to the Captain of the 5th Company. Where are +you, Captain? Oh, there you are!" The General, a little theatrically, +took off his cap with both hands and bared his powerfully shaped bald +head, whilst making a profound bow to Stelikovski. "Once more I thank +you, and it is a pleasure for me to shake you by the hand. If God should +ordain that this corps is to fight under my command, remember, Captain, +that the first dangerous task belongs to you. And now, gentlemen, +good-bye. Your work for the day is finished, and it will be a pleasure +for me to see you again, but under different and more pleasing +circumstances. Make way for my horse now." + +Colonel Shulgovich stepped out of the circle. + +"Your Excellency, in the officers' name, I invite you respectfully to +dine at our mess. We shall be----" + +"No, I see no reason for that," interrupted the General dryly. "I thank +you, as I am in duty bound to do, but I am invited to Count +Liedochovski's." + +The officers cleared a way, and the General galloped off to the place +where the regiment was awaiting the officers' return. + +"I thank you, my lads," he shouted lustily and kindly to the soldiers. +"I give you two days' leave. And now, off with you to your tents. Quick +march, hurrah!" + +It was just as if he had, by this last brief shout, turned the whole +regiment topsy-turvy. With a deafening yell of delight, fifteen hundred +men dispersed, in an instant, in all directions, and the ground shook +beneath the feet of the fugitives. + + * * * * * + +Romashov separated himself from the other officers, who returned, in +groups, to the town, and took a long circuit through the camp. He felt +just then like a banned, excommunicated fugitive; like an unworthy +member expelled from the circle of his comrades--nay, even like a +creature beyond the pale of humanity, in soul and body stunted and +despised. + +When he at length found himself behind the camp, near his own mess, he +heard a few cries of sudden but restrained rage. He stood an instant and +saw how his ensign, Rynda--a small, red-faced, powerful fellow--was, +with frightful invectives and objurgations, belabouring with his fists +Khliabnikov's nose and cheeks. In the poor victim's almost bestially +dull eyes one could see an indescribable terror, and, at every blow, +Khliabnikov staggered now to the right, now to the left. + +Romashov hurried away from the spot almost at running speed. In his +present state of mind, it was beyond his power to protect Khliabnikov +from further ill-treatment. It seemed to Romashov as if this wretched +soldier's fate had to-day become linked with his own. They were both, he +thought, cripples, who aroused in mankind the same feeling of compassion +and disgust. This similarity in their position certainly excited, on +Romashov's part, an intolerable feeling of shame and disgust at himself, +but also a consciousness that in this lay something singularly deep and +truly human. + + + + +XV + + +Only one way led from the camp to the town, viz. over the railway-line, +which at this spot crossed a deep and declivitous ravine. Romashov ran +briskly down the narrow, well-trodden, almost precipitous pathway, and +was beginning, after that, a toilsome clamber up the other slope. He had +not reached more than half-way to the top of the ravine before he +noticed a figure there in uniform with a cloak over his shoulders. After +a few seconds' close examination, Romashov recognized his friend +Nikoläiev. + +"Now," thought Romashov, "comes the most disagreeable of all," and he +could not suppress a certain unpleasant feeling of anxiety; but he +continued on his way resigned to his fate, and was soon on the plateau. + +The two officers had not seen each other for five days, but neither of +them made even an intimation of greeting, and it seemed, at any rate to +Romashov, as if this were quite the correct thing on this memorable, +miserable day. + +"I have purposely waited for you here, Yuri Alexievich," began +Nikoläiev, whilst he looked over Romashov's shoulder into the distance, +towards the camp. + +"I am at your service, Vladimir Yefimovich," replied Romashov in a +strained, unconcerned tone, and with a slight tremor in his voice. He +stooped down to the ground and broke off a dry, brown stalk of grass +from the previous year. Whilst absently biting the stalk of grass, he +stared obstinately at the bright buttons on Nikoläiev's cape, and he saw +in them his own distorted figure--a little narrow head upwards; +downwards two stunted legs, and between them an abnormally broad big +belly. + +"I shall not keep you long waiting--only a few words," said Nikoläiev. +He spoke with a strikingly peculiar softness in his voice and with the +forced politeness of an angry and hot-tempered person who has made up +his mind not to forget himself. But whilst both tried to shun the +other's glances, the situation became every moment more and more +intolerable, so that Romashov in a questioning tone proposed-- + +"It would be best perhaps if we went on our way together?" + +The winding steps, worn by foot-passengers, cut through a large field of +white beet. In the distance the town, with its white houses and +red-tiled roofs, might be distinguished. Both officers walked side by +side, yet with an evident effort to keep as far as possible from each +other, and the beets' thick, luxuriant, and juicy leaves were crushed +and bruised beneath their feet. Both observed, for a long time, an +obstinate silence. Finally, after taking a deep breath, Nikoläiev +managed, with a visible effort, to blurt out-- + +"First of all, I must ask you a question. Have you invariably shown my +wife, Alexandra Petrovna, due regard and respect?" + +"I don't understand what you mean, Vladimir Yefimovich," replied +Romashov; "but I, too, have a question...." + +"Excuse me," interrupted Nikoläiev in a sharp tone, "our questions +ought, to avoid confusion, to be put in turn--first I, then you. And now +let us talk openly and without restraint. Answer me this question first. +Is it a matter of supreme indifference to you that my wife--that her +good name--has been the subject of scandal and slander? No, no, don't +interrupt me. You can hardly deny, I suppose, that on my part you have +never experienced anything but goodwill, and that, in our house, you +have always been received as an intimate friend--nay, almost as a +relation." + +Romashov made a false step and stumbled on the loose ground. In an +embarrassed tone he mumbled in reply-- + +"Be assured, Vladimir Yefimovich, that I shall always feel grateful to +you and Alexandra Petrovna." + +"Ah, that's not the question," said Nikoläiev, angrily interrupting him. +"I am not soliciting your gratitude. I'll only tell you that my wife has +been the victim of dirty, lying scandal in which" (Nikoläiev almost +panted out the words, and he wiped his face with his handkerchief)--"well, +to put it shortly, a scandal in which you, too, are mixed up. We +both--she and I--are greeted almost every day with the most shameless +anonymous letters. It is too disgusting to me to put these letters +before you, but you shall know a good deal of their contents." +Nikoläiev broke off his speech, but, in the next minute, he continued +with a stammer. "By all the devils--now listen--they say that you are +Alexandra Petrovna's lover, and that--how horrible!--secret meetings +daily take place in your room. The whole regiment is talking about it. +What a scandal!" + +He bit his teeth in rage and spat. + +"I know who has written these letters," answered Romashov in a lowered +voice, and turned away. + +"Do you?" Nikoläiev stopped suddenly and clutched Romashov's arm +tightly. It was quite plain now that his forced calm was quite +exhausted. His bestial eyes grew bigger, his face became blood-red, foam +began to appear at the corners of his mouth, and, as he bent in a +threatening manner towards Romashov, he shrieked madly-- + +"So you know this, and you even dare to keep silence! Don't you +understand that it is quite plainly your bounden duty to slay this +serpent brood, to put a stop at once to this insidious slander? +My--noble Don Juan, if you are an honourable man and not a ----" + +Romashov turned pale, and he eyed Nikoläiev with a glance of hatred. He +felt that moment that his hands and feet were as heavy as lead, his +brain empty, that the abnormal and violent beating of his heart had sunk +still lower in his chest, and that his whole body was trembling. + +"I must ask you to lower your voice when you address me," he interrupted +him by saying in a hollow voice. "Speak civilly; you know well enough I +do not allow any one to shout at me." + +"I'm not shouting," replied Nikoläiev, still speaking in a rough and +coarse, though somewhat subdued tone. "I'm only trying to make you see +what your duty is, although I have a right to demand it. Our former +intimate relations give me this right. If Alexandra Petrovna's +unblemished name is still of any value to you, then, without delay, put +a stop to these infamies." + +"All right. I will do all I can as regards that," was Romashov's dry +answer. + +He turned away and went on. In the middle of the pathway, Nikoläiev +caught him up in a few steps. + +"Please wait a moment." Nikoläiev's voice sounded more gentle, and +seemed even to have lost some of its assertiveness and force. "I submit, +now the matter has at last been talked about, we ought also to cease our +acquaintance. What do you say yourself?" + +"Perhaps so." + +"You must yourself have noticed the kindness and sympathy with which +we--that is to say, Alexandra Petrovna and I--received you at our house. +But if I should now be forced to--I need say no more; you know well +enough how scandal rankles in this wretched little provincial hole." + +"Very well," replied Romashov gloomily. "I shall cease my visits. That, +I take it, was what you wished. I may tell you, moreover, that I had +already made up my mind not to enter your door again. A few days ago I +paid Alexandra Petrovna a very short call to return her some books, but +you may be absolutely certain that was the last time." + +"Yes, that is best so; I think----" + +Nikoläiev did not finish the sentence, and was evidently anything but +easy in his mind. The two officers reached the road at this moment. +There still remained some three hundred yards before they came to the +town. Without uttering another word or even deigning to glance at each +other, they continued on their way, side by side. Neither of them could +make up his mind either to stop or turn back, and the situation became +more awkward every minute. + +At length they reached the furthest houses of the town. An _isvostschik_ +drove up and was at once hailed by Nikoläiev. + +"That's agreed then, Yuri Alexievich." Nikoläiev uttered these words in +a vulgar, unpleasant tone, and then got into the _droshky_. "Good-bye +and _au revoir_." + +The two officers did not shake hands, and their salute at parting was +very curt. Romashov stood still for a moment, and stared, through the +cloud of dust, at the hurrying _droshky_ and Nikoläiev's strong, white +neck. He suddenly felt like the most lonely and forsaken man in the wide +world, and it seemed to him as if he had, then and there, despoiled +himself of all that had hitherto made his life at all worth living. + +Slowly he made his way home. Hainán met him in the yard, and saluted +him, from a distance, with his broad grin. His face beamed with +benevolence and delight as he took off his master's cloak, and, after a +few minutes, he began his usual curious dance. + +"Have you had dinner?" he asked in a sympathetic, familiar tone. "Oh, +you have not. Then I'll run to the club at once and fetch some food. +I'll be back again directly." + +"Go to the devil!" screamed Romashov, "and don't dare to come into my +room. I'm not at home to anybody--not even to the Tsar himself." + +He threw himself on the bed, and buried his face in the pillow. His +teeth closed over the linen, his eyes burned, and he felt a curious +stabbing sensation in his throat. He wanted to cry. With eager longing +he waited for the first hot, bitter tears which would, he hoped, afford +him consolation and relief in this dark hour of torture and misery. +Without pity on himself, he recalled once more in his mind the cruel +events of the day; he purposely magnified and exaggerated his shame and +ignominy, and he regarded, as it were, from outside, his own wretched +Ego with pity and contempt. + +Then something very strange happened. It did not seem to Romashov that +he slept or even slumbered for an instant, but simply that he was for +some moments wholly incapable of thinking. His eyes were shut, but, all +of a sudden, he felt he had regained full consciousness, and was +suffering the same anguish as before. It was completely dark in the room +now. He looked at his watch and discovered to his indescribable +astonishment that this mysterious trance had lasted more than five +hours. + +He began to feel hungry. He got up, put on his sabre, threw his cloak +over his shoulder and started for the officers' mess. The distance there +from Romashov's door was scarcely two hundred yards, and besides, he +always made use of a short cut through unbuilt-upon plots and fenced-in +kitchen-gardens, etc. + +A bright gleam issued from the half-open windows of the +_salle-à-manger_, billiard-room, and kitchen, but the dirty backyard, +blocked up with and partly covered by all sorts of rubbish, was in thick +darkness. Every moment one heard loud chatter and laughter, singing, and +the sharp click of billiard balls. + +Romashov had already reached the courtyard steps when he recognized his +Captain's angry and sneering voice. Romashov stopped at once, and +cautiously glancing into one of the open windows of the +_salle-à-manger_, he caught sight of Captain Sliva's humped back. + +He was stammering: "All my c-c-company m-m-marches as one man." Sliva +marked time by raising and lowering the palm of his hand. "But th-that +d-d-damned fool m-must upset everything." Sliva made with his first +finger several clumsy and silly motions in the air. "But, g-gentlemen, +I s-said to him, 'M-march to another c-c-company, my f-fine f-f-fellow, +or s-still b-better m-march out of the regiment. Who the devil will have +s-such an officer?'" + +Romashov shut his eyes, and shrivelled up with shame and rage. He feared +that, at the next movement on his part, all the officers at mess would +rush to the window and discover him. For one or two minutes he did not +stir; then with his head hidden in his cloak, and scarcely venturing to +breathe, he stole on tip-toe along the wall, out through the gate to the +street, the moonlit portion of which he crossed by a couple of brisk +jumps so as to reach the deep protecting shadow of the high hoarding on +the other side. + +Romashov sauntered for a long time that evening about the streets of the +town. Often he did not even know where he was. Once he stopped in the +shadow right under Nikoläiev's house, the green-painted sheet-iron roof +and white walls of which were brilliantly illumined by the moon's clear +bright rays. Not a soul was in the street, not a sound was audible. The +sharply marked outlines of the shadows from the houses opposite divided +the street into two halves. + +Behind the thick dark-red curtains in one of the rooms at the +Nikoläievs' a lamp was burning. "My beloved," whispered Romashov, "don't +you feel how near I am to you, how much I love you?" He pressed his +hands to his chest, and had much difficulty in restraining his tears. + +Suddenly, however, he got the idea that, in spite of the distance and +the house's thick walls, he might possibly make Shurochka notice his +presence. With closed teeth and hands so tightly clenched that the +nails were driven into the flesh, and with a sensation as if icy-cold +ants were creeping over his body, he began to concentrate all his +will-power to a single object. "Get up from your sofa. Come to the +window. Draw the curtain. Look, look through the window out into the +street. Obey. I command you; come to the window at once." + +But the curtain remained motionless. "You don't hear me, then," +whispered Romashov, with sorrow and indignation in his heart. "You are +sitting by the lamp beside him, calm, indifferent, and as beautiful as +ever. Oh, my God, my God, how wretched I am!" + +He sighed deeply, and with bowed head and crippled with weariness he +continued his melancholy wandering. + +He even passed Nasanski's place, but it was dark there. It seemed to +Romashov as if a white spectre had quickly fluttered past one of the +house's dark windows. A shudder ran through him, and he dared not call +to Nasanski. + +Some days later Romashov remembered this fantastic--nay, idiotic--ramble +as a strange, far-off dream which, nevertheless, could not be forgotten. +He had even been in the Jewish cemetery, but how he got there he could +not tell himself. This silent and mysterious burial-ground lay beyond +the town, on a height, and was surrounded by a low white wall. From the +luxuriant, slumbering grass arose the icy-cold gravestones, simple, +unadorned, like each other, and casting behind them long, narrow +shadows. And over all this gloomy place reigned the grave, solemn, +austere note of solitude. + +After this he saw himself in another quarter of the town, but this, +nevertheless, was perhaps only a dream. He stood in the middle of a +long, carefully constructed dam that divided the River Bug across its +entire breadth. The dark-hued water ran slowly and lazily away beneath +his feet, and now and then it, as it were, strove to render a well-known +melody by its capricious splashing. The moon was mirrored on the lightly +curled surface of the river, like an infinitely long, trembling pillar, +around which you might fancy you saw millions of fishes playing in the +water whilst they slowly withdrew and disappeared in the direction of +the distant shore, which lay afar off, silent, dark, and deserted. +Wherever he might be, whether in or out of the town, he was followed by +a faint, sweet, aromatic scent from the white acacia flower. + +Wonderful thoughts entered his brain this night--thoughts sometimes sad +and melancholy, at other times childishly ridiculous. Most frequently he +reasoned like the inexperienced gambler who with the frivolity and +optimism of youth pondered upon the fact that he had in a single night +played away all he possessed. Thus Romashov tried again and again to +delude himself into believing that the wretched events of the past day +had absolutely no importance--nay, he even succeeded in resuscitating +that "irresistible" Sub-lieutenant Romashov who so ideally conducts his +parade march under the General's critical eyes, who at the front is the +object of the General's thanks and admiration, and who afterwards drains +his goblet of wine among his rejoicing comrades. But the next moment he +hears Federovski's furious threats, his chief's insulting words, +Nikoläiev's painful questions and complaints, and he is once more the +disgraced and hopelessly ruined Sub-lieutenant Romashov. + +An irresistible force from within brought him back in the course of his +nocturnal wandering to the place where he came upon Nikoläiev after the +review. Here he walked about meditating suicide, though by no means +seriously, but only--according to his ingrained habit--to pose in his +own worthy person as a martyr and hero. + +Hainán comes rushing out of Romashov's room. His countenance is +distorted with terror. Pale and trembling all over, he hurries on to the +officers' _salle-à-manger_, which is full of people. At the sight of +Hainán all spontaneously get up from their places. "Your +Excellencies--the lieutenant has--shot himself," Hainán at last stammers +out. General uproar; dismay is to be read in the faces of all. "Who has +shot himself? Where? What lieutenant?" Finally somebody recognizes +Hainán. "Gentlemen, this is Hainán, you know--Lieutenant Romashov's +servant. It's the Circassian, you know." All hurry to Romashov's house; +some do not even give themselves time to put on their caps. Romashov is +discovered lying on his bed; on the floor beside him is a large pool of +blood, in which is found a revolver of the Smith and Wesson celebrated +make. Through a crowd of officers, who occupy every corner of the little +room, Znoiko, the regimental surgeon, pushes his way with some +difficulty. "Shot in the temple," he says amidst a general hush. "All is +over, nothing can be done." Some one among the bystanders says in a +lowered voice, "Gentlemen, uncover your heads before the majesty of +Death!" Many make the sign of the Cross. Viätkin finds on the table a +note on which the deceased has written in a firm hand a few lines in +pencil. Viätkin reads them out-- + + I forgive all. I die of my own free will. My life is intolerable. + Break the news gently to my mother. + +GEORGI ROMASHOV. + +All gaze at one another, and each reads on his neighbour's countenance +the unuttered thought: "We are his murderers." Softly rocks the coffin +covered with gold brocade and carried by eight comrades. The entire +corps of officers takes part in the procession. After the officers comes +the 6th Company. Captain Sliva frowns gloomily. Viätkin's kind face is +disfigured by tears, but now in the street he makes an effort to compose +himself. Lbov--oh, heart of gold!--weeps incessantly without blushing +for his emotion. Like deep, heavy sighs sound the hollow strains of the +Dead March. There stand all the ladies of the regiment, including +Shurochka. "I kissed him," she thinks with despair in her heart. "I +loved him--I might have saved him." "Too late!" thinks Romashov, with a +bitter smile. The officers accompanying their dead comrade to the grave +softly converse with each other. "Ah," thinks each of them to himself, +"how sorry I am for him, poor fellow. What an excellent comrade, what a +handsome and capable officer!--Yes, yes, that is true, but we did not +appreciate him." Loud and more touching sound the strains of the Dead +March. It is Beethoven's immortal music, "By a Hero's Bier." But +Romashov is lying in his coffin, cold and still, with an everlasting +smile on his lips. On his chest rests a modest bouquet of violets, but +no one knows from where they came. He has forgiven all--Shurochka, +Sliva, Federovski, Shulgovich--all. But they waste no tears. He is +better off where he is now; he was too pure, too good for this world. + +This gloomy, silent monologue forced tears from Romashov's eyes, but he +did not wipe them away. It was so delicious to imagine himself a martyr, +an innocent victim to the malignity of mankind. + +He had now reached the white-beet field, the extensive surface of which +had an almost oppressive influence on Romashov. He climbed on to a +little hillock just beside the ravine in which the railway ran. + +There he stood. This side of the ravine lay in deep shadow, but the +opposite one was so powerfully illuminated that one might fancy it +possible to distinguish every blade of grass. The ravine was very +precipitous near the place where Romashov was now standing, and at the +bottom of it the rails, worn bright by traffic, shone. Far away in the +field on the other side of the railway the white, pyramid-like tents +could be seen in even rows. + +A little way down the slope of the ravine was a small platform. Romashov +glided down to it and sat on the grass. He felt nearly sick from hunger +and weariness, and his legs shook from exhaustion. The great deserted +field behind him, the air, clear and transparent in spite of the shades +of night, the dew-soaked grass--all was sunk in a deep, insidious, +luminous silence, the intensity of which was felt by Romashov like a +strong buzzing in his ear. Rarely indeed might be heard from a +locomotive manoeuvring at the railway station a shrill whistling +which, in the solemn stillness of the night, brought with it something +impetuous, impatient, and threatening. + +Romashov laid himself on his back in the grass. The fleecy white clouds +right above him stood motionless, but over them the round moon glided +rapidly on in the dark firmament which, cold and bare and boundless, +riveted Romashov's gaze. All the illimitable space between earth and +heaven seemed to him fraught with eternal terror and eternal longing. +"There dwells--God," thought Romashov, and suddenly, with a naïve +outburst of sorrow, anger, and self-pity, he whispered passionately and +bitterly-- + +"God, why hast Thou turned Thy countenance from me? What offence can +I--a miserable worm, a grain of sand--have committed against Thee? Thou +art almighty, Thou art good, Thou seest and hearest everything--why hast +Thou suffered injustice and malice so to triumph over me?" + +But instantly afterwards he was filled with alarm at his blasphemous +speech, and he went on to say in fervour and anguish-- + +"No, no; forgive and forget my sinful words. I know Thou art as wise as +Thou art merciful, and I shall never murmur any more. Do with me what +seems best in Thy sight. I will always submit to Thy will with gratitude +and a meek heart." + +Simultaneously with these pious words of penance and reformation there +stirred in the depth of his soul a secret calculating thought that his +solemnly promised submission to our Lord's will would move the +All-seeing God suddenly to work, on his behalf, a miracle whereby all +the bitter sorrows and trials of this day would appear only as a hideous +dream. + +"Where are you?" shrieked just then a locomotive down at the station +with a short, angry, impatient whistle. Another engine at once answered, +in a hollow, threatening tone, "I am coming." + +From the moonlit crest of the ravine's opposite slope a soft rustle was +heard. In order more easily to detect the cause, Romashov raised his +head from the ground. A grey, shapeless, scarcely human figure was +sliding down to the bottom of the ravine. In spite of the bright +moonlight, it was difficult to distinguish the night-walker in the high +grass, and only by the movements of his shadow was it possible for any +one to follow with the eye his course down the declivity. + +Now he was crossing the railway-line. "Judging from everything," guessed +Romashov, "he is a soldier. Anyhow it's a human being; but who can it +be? A drunkard or a sleep-walker?" + +The strange figure had already crossed the railway, stepped into the +shade, and was climbing toilsomely up the slope on which Romashov was. +The latter now saw distinctly that the wanderer was a soldier, who, +however, immediately afterwards disappeared from Romashov's sight. Two +or three minutes elapsed before he again became visible. A round-clipped +head without a cap was slowly lifted in Romashov's direction, who now +recognized, without difficulty, the left wing soldier in his own +half-company--the unfortunate Khliabnikov. + +Khliabnikov went on his way bareheaded and with his cap in his hand, +looking fixedly before him. It was evident that he was labouring under +the influence of a mysterious inward force. He passed so near Romashov +that the latter's cloak almost grazed his own. The moon's keen rays were +reflected in the motionless pupils beneath the unnaturally wide-open +eyelids. + +"Khliabnikov, is it you?" cried Romashov. + +"A-ah!" shouted the soldier, who stopped immediately, and began to shake +all over. + +Romashov jumped up from the ground. He saw before him a disfigured face, +as pale as a corpse's, with severed, bleeding lips, and one eye almost +closed up by a tremendous bump turning blue. In the uncertain evening +light the traces of the disgusting violence that had been perpetrated +gained a still more horrible appearance. And as Romashov gazed at +Khliabnikov, his thoughts ran thus: "Behold the man who with me brought +shame on the entire regiment to-day. We are both equally to be pitied." + +"Where were you going, my friend? what's the matter?" asked Romashov, in +his tenderest tone, and, without thinking, he put both his hands on the +soldier's shoulders. Khliabnikov stared at him out of his uninjured eye +with the wild look of one who had been frightened out of his wits, but +he turned away at once. His bleeding lips, welded together, slowly +opened with a soft, smacking sound, but all he could utter was a hoarse +rattle. Romashov suddenly experienced an intolerable feeling of +sickness, and he thought he felt in his chest and abdomen certain +symptoms which usually precede fainting. + +"Has some one beaten you, eh? Tell me! Come and sit down beside me." He +pulled the soldier by the sleeve of his coat down to the ground. +Khliabnikov obediently collapsed, like a dummy fallen in a heap, and +sank noiselessly down on the damp grass beside Romashov. + +"Where were you going?" asked the latter. Khliabnikov did not answer a +word where he sat, in a very unnatural and uncomfortable position, with +his legs straddling. Romashov noticed that his head sank slowly, with +scarcely perceptible little nods, on his chest. Again Romashov heard the +same short, hoarse, rattling sound, and his whole soul was filled by an +unspeakable pity. "Do I understand that you wanted to run away? Put on +your cap and listen, Khliabnikov. At this moment I am not your officer +or superior, but, like yourself, only a lonely, unlucky, ruined +creature. I can understand how hard and burdensome it is for you to +live, therefore speak to me frankly, tell me all. Perhaps you meant to +kill yourself?" he added in a hollow, whispering tone. + +A gurgling noise was again heard in the soldier's throat, but not a word +passed his lips. At the same moment Romashov noticed that his companion +in misfortune was shaking from head to foot as if from a chill, and he +was himself now attacked by an unconquerable terror. This sleepless +night passed in feverish excitement; this feeling of loneliness and +desertion; the moon's unchangeable, oppressive, cold gleam; the ravine's +black depth beneath his feet; the dumb, cruelly maltreated soldier at +his side--all this seemed to him like a mad, insufferable dream--one of +those dreams that are wont to herald the approach of death. But directly +afterwards he was again seized by the same infinite pity for the +unfortunate victim beside him, and it was clear to him at once how petty +and insignificant was his own sorrow in comparison with Khliabnikov's +cruel fate. With sincere tenderness he threw his arm round the soldier's +neck, drew him forcibly to him, and said, with the warmth that belongs +to conviction-- + +"Khliabnikov, you find life unsupportable, but, my friend, believe me, +even I am an exceedingly unhappy man. The whole world wherein I live is +to me a puzzle. Everything is so savage, cruel, and senseless. However, +one must be patient, one must learn to suffer." + +Khliabnikov's bowed head fell suddenly on Romashov's knee, which he +embraced with both arms. All his being shook with suppressed weeping. + +"I can't stand any more," he uttered at last, "I'll bear it no longer. +Oh, my God! They beat me, they mock me; the sergeants shriek for +schnapps and money. Where is a poor devil like me to get money? And then +they beat me again--me, who have suffered from childhood from an +incurable pain--a severe rupture." + +Romashov bent down over his head, which shook convulsively backwards and +forwards against Romashov's knee. He perceived the smell of the +soldier's dirty, unhealthy body, and the rank stench of his cloak, which +also served as a counterpane during the cold nights in his tent. An +infinite sorrow for and disgust at himself, his profession, and the +whole world harrowed the young officer's soul. With overflowing heart he +rested his forehead against Khliabnikov's burning head and stubbly hair, +at the same time whispering scarcely audibly-- + +"My brother!" + +Khliabnikov grasped Romashov's hand, on which a few warm tears fell. +Romashov even felt two cold, clammy lips kissing his fingers, but he did +not withdraw his hand, and he spoke simple, calming, touching words, +just as when one talks to a weeping, injured child. + +Then he escorted Khliabnikov back to the camp, and then sent for +Shapovalenko, the sergeant on duty that day in the 6th Company. The +latter came out hurriedly, clad in an obviously imperfect costume, +peered for a while with a pair of drowsy eyes, scratched himself both +back and front with an earnestness that was probably more than +justified. After several tremendous yawns he became gradually awake to +the situation. + +Romashov ordered him to release Khliabnikov from any duties he might +happen to have just then. + +"Your Honour, this may perhaps be a little premature." + +"No arguing!" shrieked Romashov in a furious tone. "Tell the Captain +to-morrow that you acted on my instructions." Then turning to +Khliabnikov, he added: "We meet to-morrow, you know, at my house," and +received in reply a long, shy, grateful look. + +Romashov slowly turned his steps homewards along the camp. A few words +caught from a whispered conversation in one of the tents caused him to +stop and listen: "You see, comrades," says a subdued voice, "that this +same devil sends the soldier his very chief magician. When the magician +catches sight of the soldier, he roars at him like this: 'What's a +soldier to me? I'll eat him!' 'No,' replies the soldier, 'you can't do +that, old chap, for I myself am a magician----'" + +Romashov soon reached the ravine again. Once more that indescribable +feeling of disgust at life and contempt of the inanity and senselessness +of the work of creation. Whilst descending the declivity he stopped +suddenly and raised his eyes to heaven. Again he was met by the same +infinite, icy-cold firmament; again he experienced the same longing, +mingled with fear and anguish, and almost unconsciously he raised his +fists threateningly against heaven, and in the voice of a man foaming +with rage, in words of unspeakable blasphemy, challenged his Maker's +omnipotence, and dared Him, in proof of it, to break off his arms and +legs. + +Romashov, deliberately and with his eyes shut, threw himself down the +precipice, and alighted unscathed on the railway bank. With two leaps he +gained the opposite slope, the top of which he reached without stopping +or taking breath. His nostrils were dilated, and his chest heaved +violently under convulsive efforts to regain his breath, but in the +depths of his soul there blazed a proud, triumphant feeling of malicious +joy and defiance. + + + + +XVI + + +There was a lesson on military drill going on in the school of recruits. +In a close room, on benches arranged in a square, sat the soldiers of +the 3rd platoon facing one another. In the middle of this square +Corporal Syeroshtán walked to and fro. Close by, walking backwards and +forwards in the centre of a similar square, was the non-commissioned +officer Shapovalenko. + +"Bondarenko!" cried Syeroshtán in a piercing voice. + +Bondarenko brought his feet down on the floor with a bang, and jumped up +just like a jack-in-the-box. + +"Now, Bondarenko, suppose that you were standing at arms, and the +commander came to you and asked: 'What is that in your hands, +Bondarenko?' What ought you to answer?" + +"A gun," replied Bondarenko after reflection. + +"Wrong! Do you mean to tell me you would call it a gun? At home you +might call it a gun, certainly, but in the service it is called simply a +sharp-shooting infantry rifle of small calibre, maker Berdan, number +two, with a sliding bolt. Repeat that now, you son of a----!" + +Bondarenko gabbled over the words, which he evidently knew by heart. + +"Sit down!" commanded Syeroshtán graciously. "And for what purpose is +the rifle given you?" His stern gaze wandered round the class. +"Shevchuk! you answer this question." + +Shevchuk stood up with a morose expression, and answered in a deep bass +voice, speaking through his nose, and very slowly, and in detached +phrases, as if there were a full stop after each: + +"It is given to me in order that in time of peace I may practise with +it. But in time of war that I may protect my Emperor and my country from +enemies." He stopped, scratched his nose, and added obscurely: "Whether +they be external or internal." + +"Right! You know that very well, Shevchuk, only you mumble. Sit down. +And now, Ovechkin, tell me, whom do we call external enemies?" + +Ovechkin, a sprightly soldier from Orlov, answered rapidly and with +great animation, spluttering with excitement: + +"External enemies are all those nations with whom we might go to war; +the French, Germans, Italians, Turks, Europeans----" + +"Wait," Syeroshtán cut him short. "All that is not in the text. Sit +down. And now tell me--Arkhipov! Who are our internal enemies?" + +He uttered the last two words very loudly, as if to emphasize them, and +threw a meaning glance at the volunteer, Markouson. + +The clumsy, pock-marked Arkhipov was obstinately silent, and stood +gazing out of the window. Outside the service he was an active, +intelligent, clever fellow; but in class he behaved like an imbecile. +Obviously the trouble lay in the fact that his healthy mind, accustomed +to observe and think about the simple, straightforward affairs of +village life, was quite unable to grasp the connection between +hypothetical problems and real life. For this reason he could not +understand nor learn the simplest things, to the great astonishment and +indignation of his platoon commander. + +"We-ll! How much longer am I to wait while you get ready to answer?" +cried Syeroshtán, beginning to get angry. + +"Internal enemies--enemies----" + +"You don't know it?" cried Syeroshtán in a threatening tone, and he +would have fallen upon Arkhipov, but, glancing with a side glance at the +officer, he contented himself with shaking his head and rolling his eyes +terribly. "Well, listen. Internal enemies are those who resist the law; +for example, who shall we----?" He glanced at Ovechkin's sharp eyes. +"You tell us, Ovechkin." + +Ovechkin jumped up and cried joyfully: + +"Such as rebels, students, horse-stealers, Jews and Poles." + +Shapovalenko was occupied with his platoon close by. Pacing up and down +between the benches, he asked questions from the "Soldier's Manual," +which he held in his hand. + +"Soltuis, what is a sentry?" + +Soltuis, a Lithuanian, cried, opening and shutting his eyes rapidly in +the effort to think: "A sentry must be incorruptible." + +"Well, and what else?" + +"A sentry is a soldier placed at a certain post with a rifle in his +hand." + +"Right. I see, Soltuis, that you are beginning to try. And why is he +placed there, Pakhorukov?" + +"That he may neither sleep, nor doze, nor smoke, nor accept bribes." + +"And the pass-word?" + +"And that he may give the pass-word to the officers who pass in and +out." + +"Right. Sit down." + +Shapovalenko had noticed some time ago the ironical smile on the face of +the volunteer Fokin, and for this reason he cried with extra severity: + +"Now, volunteer! But is that the way to stand? When your chief asks a +question you should stand as straight as a ramrod. What do you mean by +the Colours?" + +The volunteer Fokin, with a University badge on his breast, stood in +front of the non-commissioned officer in a respectful attitude, but his +young, grey eyes sparkled with laughter. + +"By the Colours is meant the sacred Standard of War under which----" + +"Wrong!" broke in Shapovalenko angrily, bringing the Manual down hard on +the palm of his hand. + +"No, that is quite right," replied Fokin calmly. + +"Wh-a-at? If your chief says it is wrong, it is wrong." + +"Look in the book and see for yourself." + +"I am your officer, and as such I must know better than you. A fine +thing, indeed! Perhaps you think that I want to enter a cadet school for +instruction? What do you know about anything? What's a St-a-a-n-dard? +Ste-ndard! There's no such word as Sta-a-andard. The sacred Stendard of +War----" + +"Don't quarrel now, Shapovalenko," put in Romashov. "Get on with the +lesson." + +"Very good, your Honour!" drawled Shapovalenko. "Only allow me to inform +your Honour that all these volunteers are far too clever." + +"That will do, that will do! get on with the lesson." + +"Very good, your Honour--Khliabnikov! Who is the commander of this +corps?" + +Khliabnikov stared with wild eyes at the "non-com." All the sound which +came from his open mouth was a croak, which might have been made by a +hoarse crow. + +"Answer!" cried Shapovalenko furiously. + +"His----" + +"Well! 'His.' What else?" + +Romashov, who had just turned away, heard him mutter in a low voice: +"You wait! Won't I just give you a stroking down after the lesson." But +directly Romashov turned back to him he said loudly and kindly: "His +Excellency--well, how does it go on, Khliabnikov?" + +"His--infantry--lieutenant," muttered Khliabnikov in a broken, terrified +voice. + +"A-a-a!" cried Shapovalenko, grinding his teeth. "Whatever shall we do +with you, Khliabnikov? I am really afraid to think what will become of +you; you are just like a camel, except that you can't even make yourself +heard. You don't make the slightest attempt to learn. Stand there until +the end of the lesson, and after dinner come to me, and I'll take you +alone. Grechenko! Who is the commander of this corps?" + +"As it is to-day, so it will be to-morrow, and so on to the end of my +life," thought Romashov, as he passed from platoon to platoon. "Shall I +throw it all up? Shall I leave the service? I don't know what to do!" + +After the instruction the men were kept busy in the yard, which was +arranged as a shooting range. While one party practised shooting in a +looking-glass, another learned to hit a target with a shot, and a third +learned rifle-shooting. Ensign Lbov's clear, animated tenor voice giving +orders to the 2nd platoon could be heard at a distance. + +"Right--turn--firing company--one, two!" "Compan-y!" he dragged out the +last syllable, paused, and then, abruptly: "Fire!" + +There was a loud report, and Lbov in his joyful, inspiring voice, cried +again: + +"Present!" + +Sliva went from platoon to platoon, stooping and walking slowly, finding +fault and making coarse remarks: + +"Is that the way to hold a rifle? Any one would think you were a deacon +holding a candle! What are you keeping your mouth open for, Kartashov? +Do you want some porridge? Sergeant-major, put Kartashov under arms for +an hour after drill. How do you fold up a cloak, Vedenyeev? Look at it, +you lazy fellow!" + +After the shooting practice the men piled their rifles and threw +themselves down beside them on the young spring grass, already trampled +on by the soldiers' boots. It was a warm, clear day. The air smelled of +the leaves of young poplar trees, of which there were two rows planted +round the causeway. Viätkin again approached Romashov: + +"Dreaming again, Yuri Alexeich," he said. "What is the use of it? As +soon as the drill is over we will go to the club, and after a drink or +two you will be all right." + +"I am bored, my dear Pavel Pavlich," said Romashov wearily. + +"It is not very cheerful, I admit," said Viätkin. "But how can it be +helped? The men must be taught their business, or what would happen if +war suddenly broke out?" + +"What is war after all?" said Romashov sadly, "and why----? Perhaps it +is nothing more than a mistake made by all, a universal error, a +madness. Do you mean to tell me that it is natural to kill?" + +"Oh, the devil take your philosophy! If the Germans were to attack us +suddenly, who would defend Russia?" + +"I know nothing about it, so I can't talk about it," said Romashov +shortly. "I know nothing, and yet, take----" + +"For my part," said Viätkin, "I think that if those are your ideas about +war, it would be better for you to be out of the service. We are not +supposed to think in our profession. The only question is, What could we +do if we were not in the service? What use should we be anywhere when we +know nothing but 'Left! Right!' We can die, of course, that is true. And +die we should, as soon as we began to be in want, for food is not +provided gratis, you know. And so, Mr. Philosopher, come to the club +with me after drill." + +"Very well," agreed Romashov indifferently. "If you ask me, I should say +that it's a hog's life that we are leading; but, as you say, if one +thinks so it is better to leave the service altogether." + +While they talked they walked up and down, and at length halted close to +the 4th platoon. The soldiers were sitting or lying around their piled +arms; some of them were eating bread, for soldiers eat bread all day +long, and under all circumstances, at reviews, at halting-places in the +manoeuvres, in church before confession, and even before physical +punishment. + +Romashov heard a quietly provocative voice say: + +"Khliabnikov! I say, Khliabnikov!" + +"Yes?" said Khliabnikov gruffly, through his nose. + +"What do you do at home?" + +"Work," answered the other sleepily. + +"What kind of work, you blockhead?" + +"All kinds--ploughing, cattle driving." + +Romashov glanced at the grey, pitiful face of Khliabnikov, and again was +seized by an uneasy pain at his heart. + +"Rifle practice!" cried Sliva from the centre. "Officers to their +places." + +They unpiled their arms and took their places with much bustle. + +"Close up!" commanded Sliva. "Stand at ease!" + +And then, coming nearer to the company, he shouted: + +"Manual exercise--count aloud. On guard!" + +"One!" cried the soldiers, and held their guns aloft. + +Sliva went amongst them in a leisurely manner, making abrupt remarks: +"Bayonets higher.--Hold the butt-end to you." + +Then he again took up his position in front of the company and gave the +order: "Two!" + +"Two!" cried the soldiers. + +And once more Sliva went amongst them to see if they were doing the +exercises correctly. + +After the manual exercise by division they had exercise by company, then +turnings, form fours, fixing and unfixing bayonets and other forms. +Romashov performed like an automaton all that was required of him, but +all the time the words so carelessly uttered by Viätkin were running +through his mind: "If I thought that, I would not stay in the service." +And all the arts of war--the skilful evolutions, the cleverness of the +rifle exercise, and all those tactics and fortifications on which he had +wasted nine of the best years of his life, which would fill the rest of +his life, and which not so very long ago had seemed to him important and +so full of wisdom--all had suddenly become deadly dull, unnatural, +inventions without value, a universal self-deceit resembling an absurd +dream. + +When the drill was finished he and Viätkin went to the club and drank a +lot of vodka together. Romashov, hardly knowing what he was doing, +kissed Viätkin and wept hysterically on his shoulder, complained of his +empty, miserable life, and also that no one understood him, also that a +certain woman did not love him--who she was no one should ever know. As +for Viätkin, he drank glass after glass, only saying from time to time +with contemptuous pity: + +"The worst of you is, Romashov, that you can't drink. You take one glass +and you are all over the place." + +Then suddenly he struck his fist on the table threateningly, and cried: +"If they want us to die, we'll die!" + +"We'll die," answered Romashov pitifully. "What is dying? A mere trifle! +Oh, how my heart aches!" + +Romashov did not remember going home and getting into bed. It seemed to +him that he was floating on a thick blue cloud, upon which were +scattered milliards and milliards of microscopic diamonds. His head +seemed swollen to a tremendous size, and a pitiless voice was calling +out in a tone which made him feel sick: + +"One! Two!" + + + + +XVII + + +From this night Romashov underwent a profound inward change. He cut +himself entirely adrift from the company of his comrades, usually took +his dinner at home, never frequented the _soirées dansantes_ of his +regiment, and ceased to indulge in drink. He had grown older, riper, and +more serious, and he noticed this himself in the calm resignation with +which he bore the trials and adversities of life. Often, too, he +recalled to mind the assertion he had long ago picked up from books or +in the way of conversation, that human life is made up of periods of +seven years, and that, in the course of each period, not only the +organism, but also the character, views taken of life, and inclinations +are completely renewed. And it was not so long since Romashov had +completed his twenty-first year. + +The soldier Khliabnikov used to visit him, but at first, however, only +after being again urged to do so. Afterwards his visits became more and +more frequent. During the first period he put one in mind of a starved +and whipped dog which flinches from the hand held out caressingly; but +Romashov's kindness and goodness gradually drove away his fear and +embarrassment and restored to him the faculty of gratitude and +confidence. With something akin to remorse and shame, Romashov learned +more of Khliabnikov's sad conditions of life and family circumstances. +At home lived his mother, his father--a confirmed drunkard--a +semi-idiotic brother, and four young sisters. The family's little plot +of land had been confiscated, contrary to all law and justice, by the +commune, which afterwards was kind enough to shelter the poor wretches +in a miserable hut. The elder members were journeymen employed by +strange and occasional employers, the younger ones went out to beg. +Khliabnikov could, therefore, not reckon on any support from his people, +and, on account of his delicate health, was not in a position to +undertake any remunerative manual labour in such leisure as the service +left him. But the soldier's life is unendurable without money. He +receives twenty-two and a half copecks a month from the State, and out +of this he must defray the costs of tea, sugar, soap, etc., and in +addition, the indispensable presents to greedy and unconscionable +sergeants. Woe betide the soldier who cannot, by presents, money, or +schnapps, bribe his torturers. He becomes a helpless victim to insult +and gross maltreatment, and all the heavy and disgusting work in the +camp falls unmercifully to his lot. + +With surprise, terror, and pain Romashov realized that Fate had daily +united him by the closest ties with hundreds of these grey +"Khliabnikovs," with those defenceless victims of their own ignorance +and brutal coarseness, of the officers' heartless indifference and +cruelty, of a humiliating, systematic slavery; but the most horrible of +all, however, was the fact that not a single officer--and, up to that +day, not even Romashov himself--saw in these stereotyped crowds of +slaves anything beyond mechanical quantities bracketed under the name of +companies, battalions, regiments, etc. + +Romashov did his best to procure Khliabnikov, now and then, a little +income. Of course it was not very long before both this and other +unaccustomed marks of humanity on the part of an officer became noticed +in the company. Romashov noticed very frequently how the "non-coms." in +his presence acted towards Khliabnikov with comical, exaggerated +politeness in manner and tone. That even Captain Sliva had got scent of +Romashov's changed attitude as regards the treatment of soldiers was +palpable enough, and more than once, from remarks made by him-- + +"D-d-damned Liberals--come here to ruin the people--ought to be +thrashed--f-f-flayed alive, every man Jack of 'em!" + +Now, as Romashov more and more abandoned himself to loneliness and +self-examination, those curious, entangling contemplations, which a +month previously, at the time of his arrest, had such a disturbing +effect on him, now assailed him with even greater frequency. These +generally happened after his duties for the day had been done, when he +strolled silently backwards and forwards, beneath the thick, slumbering +foliage of the trees near his dwelling, and when, lonely and oppressed, +he listened to the solemn bass of the booming beetles or, with dreamy +eyes, gazed at the roseate and rapidly darkening sky. + +This new life of his surprised him by the richness of its shifting +impression. In days gone by he would never have even dared to entertain +a notion of what pure and calm joy, what potency and secret depths, lie +hidden in something so simple and common as human thought. + +Romashov had already determined irrevocably not to remain on active +service, but to join the reserves as soon as his period of service as an +officer by examination had expired, but he did not yet know where he +would find suitable employment and an income on which he might exist. He +went over in his mind all possible occupations--post-office, customs, +telegraph service, railway, etc., etc. He pondered on whether he might +seek the post of estate-manager, or enter the Civil Service. And now he +was astounded at the thought of all the innumerable different trades and +professions that exist in the world. "How have they arisen," thought he, +"all these absurd, comical, wonderful and more or less repulsive +occupations--prison-warders, acrobats, chiropodists, professors, actors, +dog-barbers, policemen, jugglers, prostitutes, bath-men, veterinary +surgeons, grave-diggers, beadles, etc., etc? And perhaps there's not a +human invention or caprice, however idiotic, paradoxical, barbarous, and +immoral it may be, that does not at once find ready and willing hands to +bring it to completion and realization." + +So, too, in meditating more profoundly, it struck him what a countless +number of "intelligent" means of bread-winning there are, which are all +based on mistrust of the honour and morality of mankind--supervisors and +officials of all sorts, controllers, inspectors, policemen, custom-house +officers, bookkeepers, revising-officers, etc., whose existence has, +without exception, found justification in man's weakness for or lack of +resistance against crime and corruption. + +He also called to mind priests, schoolmasters, lawyers and judges--in +short, all those persons who, according to the nature of their work, are +in continual and intimate contact with other men's ideas, strivings, +sorrows, and sufferings. At the thought of these, Romashov came to the +tragic conclusion that these individuals become more quickly than +others hard, heartless egoists, who, wrapping themselves in the +dressing-gown of selfishness, very soon grow frozen for ever in dead +formalism. He knew that there also exists another class, i.e. those who +create and look after the external conditions of human luxury and +enjoyment--engineers, architects, inventors, manufacturers, and all +those who, by their united efforts, can render mankind inestimable +temporal services, and place themselves solely at the disposal of the +rich and powerful. They think only of their own skin, of their own nest, +of their own brood, and they become, in consequence of this, the slaves +of gold and tyranny. Who is there then to raise up, instruct, and +console the brutally used slave, Khliabnikov, and say to him, "Shake +hands with me, brother"? + +Pondering over similar subjects, Romashov certainly probed slowly and +fumblingly, but more and more deeply, into the great problem of life. +Formerly everything seemed to him as simple as simple could be. The +world was divided into two categories very different in size and +importance. The one, the guild of officers, constituting the military +caste, which alone attains power, honour, and glory, the fine uniform of +which confers an uncontested monopoly of bravery, physical strength, and +unbounded contempt for all other living creatures; the other, the +civilian element of society--an enormous number of indeterminable petty +insects; another race, a pariah class hardly worthy to live, obscure +individuals to be thrashed and insulted without rhyme or reason, whose +nose every little gilded popinjay may tweak, unless he prefers, to the +huge delight of his comrades, to crush their tall silk hats over his +victims' ears. + +When Romashov thought, he stood apart from reality; when he viewed +military life, as it were, from a secret corner through a chink in the +wall, he gradually began to understand that the army and all that +pertains to it, with its false glamour and borrowed plumes, came into +the world through a mad, cruel confusion of ideas in mankind. "How," +Romashov asked himself, "can so large a class of society, in profound +peace, and without doing the country the least good, be suffered to +exist, to eat the bread of others, to walk in other men's clothes, to +dwell in other men's houses, only with the obligation, in the event of +war, to kill and maim living creatures of the same race as themselves?" + +And more and more clearly it dawned on his mind that only the two +following domains of activity are worthy of man, viz. science and art +and free manual labour. And with new force the old dreams and hopes of a +future literary career arose in him. Now and again, when Chance put into +his hand a valuable book rich in noble and fructifying ideas, he thought +with bitter melancholy of himself: "Good gracious, how simple, clear and +true all this is which I myself, moreover, have known and experienced! +Why cannot I, too, compose something similar?" He wished he could write +a novel or a great romance, the _leitmotiv_ of which should be his +contempt and disgust for military life. In his imagination everything +fell so excellently into groups, his descriptions of scenery became true +and splendid, his puppets woke to life, the story developed, and his +treatment of it made him so boisterously cheerful and happy. But when he +sat down to write, everything suddenly became so pale and feeble, so +childish, so artificial and stereotyped. As long as his pen ran quickly +and boldly over the paper he noticed none of these defects; but +directly he compared his own work with that of some of the great Russian +authors--if only with a small, detached piece from them--he was seized +at once by a deep despair, and by shame and disgust at his own work. + +He often wandered, harassed by such thoughts, about the streets in the +balmy nights of the latter part of May. Without noticing it himself, he +invariably selected for these promenades the same way--i.e. from the +Jewish cemetery to the great dam, and thence to the high railway bank. +It happened occasionally that, entirely absorbed in his dreams, he +failed to notice the way he took, and, suddenly waking up, he found +himself, much to his astonishment, in a wholly different part of the +town. + +Every night he passed by Shurochka's window. With stealthy steps, bated +breath, and beating heart, he prowled along the opposite side of the +street. He felt like a thief who, in shame and anguish, tries hard to +leave the scene of his crime as unobserved as possible. When the lamp +was extinguished in the Nikoläiev's drawing-room, in the black +window-panes of which there was only a weak reflection of the moon's +faint rays, Romashov hid himself in the deep shade of the high hoarding, +pressed his crossed arms convulsively against his breast, and uttered in +a hot whisper-- + +"Sleep, sleep, my beloved one, my queen! I am here watching over you." + +In such moments he felt tears in his eyes, but in his soul stirred, +besides love, tenderness and self-sacrificing affection, and also the +human animal's blind jealousy and lust. + +One evening Nikoläiev was invited to a whist party at the commander's. +Romashov was aware of this. When, as usual of a night, he passed +Nikoläiev's dwelling, he smelt, from the little flower-bed behind the +hoarding, the fragrant, disturbing perfume of daffodils. He jumped over +the hedge, soiled his hands with the sticky mould of the bed, and +plucked a whole armful of soft, moist, pale flowers. + +The window of Shurochka's bedroom was open. It was dark within, and not +a sound could be heard from it. With a boldness that astonished himself, +Romashov approached the wall, and threw the flowers into the room. Still +the same mysterious silence. He stood quite still for three minutes, +listening and waiting. His heart-beats, so it seemed to him, echoed +along the whole of the long, dead-silent street; but no answer. Not the +faintest sound reached the listener's ears. With bent back, and blushing +for shame, he stole away on tip-toe. + +The next day he received the following curt and angry letter from +Shurochka-- + + Never dare to repeat what you did yesterday. Courting in the Romeo + and Juliet style is always absurd, particularly in this little hole + of a place. + +In the daytime Romashov tried to obtain a distant glimpse of Shurochka +in the street, but he never succeeded. He often thought he recognized +the mistress of his heart in some lady walking along. With beating heart +and thrills of bliss he hurried nearer, but every time this turned out a +bitter disappointment; and when he found out his mistake he felt in his +soul an abandonment and deadly void that caused him pain. + + + + +XVIII + + +One day towards the end of May, a young soldier belonging to Captain +Osadchi's company hanged himself. Curiously enough, this suicide +happened on the same date as a similar dreadful event in the previous +year, and that, too, in Osadchi's company. + +About this time drinking-bouts were arranged in the regiment. These, in +spite of their quasi-official character, were not one whit inferior in +coarseness to the regular and more private gatherings _inter pocula_. It +is highly probable that such stimulating entertainments were felt a +special necessity when men, who have been tied to one another by fate, +through a soul-destructive inactivity or senseless cruelty towards their +kind, have chanced to look somewhat more deeply into each other's +hearts, and then--in spite of prejudices, unscrupulousness, and +spiritual darkness--suddenly realize in what a bottomless pit of +darkness they all are. In order to deaden the pangs of conscience and +remorse at a life ruined and thrown away, all their insidious, brutish +instincts have to be let loose at once and all their passions satisfied. + +Shortly after the suicide in question, a similar crisis occurred among +the officers. Osadchi, as might be expected, became the instigator and +high-priest of the orgies. In the course of several days he organized in +the mess, games of hazard more recklessly than ever, during which +fearful quantities of spirit were consumed. Strangely enough, this wild +beast in human form soon managed to entice pretty nearly all the +officers of his regiment into a whirl of mad dissipations. And during +all these carousals Osadchi, with unparalleled cynicism, insolence, and +heartlessness, tried to provoke expressions of disapproval and +opposition, by invoking all the powers of the nether-world to insult the +name and memory of the unhappy man who had taken his own life. + +It was about 6 p.m., Romashov was sitting at his window with his legs +resting on the window-sill, and whistling softly a waltz out of _Faust_. +The sparrows and magpies were making a noise and laughing at each other +in the garden. It was not yet evening, but the shadows beneath the trees +grew longer and fainter. + +Suddenly a powerful voice was heard outside singing, not without a +certain spirit, but out of tune-- + + "The chargers are champing, snorting, and neighing. + The foam-covered bridle still holds them in sway." + +Immediately afterwards the door was flung wide open, and Viätkin rolled +into Romashov's room with a loud peal of laughter. Although it was all +he could do to stand on his legs, he kept on singing-- + + "Matrons and maidens with sorrowful glances + Watch till their hero is lost to their sight." + +Viätkin was still completely intoxicated from the libations of the +preceding day, and his eyelids were red and swollen from a night +without sleep. His hat was half off his head, and his long, waxed +moustache hung down like the tusks of a walrus. + +"R-romuald, Syria's holy hermit, come, let me kiss you!" he roared in a +way that echoed through the whole house. "How long do you intend to sit +brooding here? Come, let us go. There's wine and play and jolly fellows +down there. Come!" + +Viätkin gave Romashov a sounding kiss and rubbed his face with his wet +moustache. + +"Well, well, that will do, Pavel Pavlich. Is that the way to go on?" +Romashov tried to defend himself against Viätkin's repeated caresses, +but in vain. + +"Hold out your hand, my friend. Osadchi is kicking up a row down there, +so there's not a pane of glass unbroken. Romashevich, I love you. Come +here and let me give you a real Russian kiss, right on the mouth--do you +hear?" + +Viätkin with his swollen face, glassy eyes, and stinking breath was +unspeakably forbidding to Romashov, but, as usual, the latter could not +ward off such caresses, to which he now responded by a sickly and +submissive smile. + +"Wait and you shall hear why I came," shrieked Viätkin, hiccupping and +stumbling about the room. "Something important, you may well believe. +Bobetinski was cleaned out by me to his last copeck. Then he wanted, of +course, to give an IOU. 'Much obliged, dear boy, but that cock won't +fight. But perhaps you have something left to pledge.' Then he drew out +his revolver--here it is, by the way." Viätkin drew from his breeches +pocket, which followed, turned inside out, a choice little, +well-constructed revolver protected by a chamois-leather case. "As you +see, dear boy, the Mervin type. 'Well,' I said to him, 'how much will +you venture on that--twenty--ten--fifteen?' And can you imagine such a +curmudgeon? The first time only a rouble, on the 'colour,' of course. +But all the same--hey, presto! slap-bang! After five raisings the +revolver was mine and the cartridges too. And now you shall have it, +Romashevich, as a keepsake of our old friendship. Some day you will +always think of me thus: 'Viätkin was always a brave and generous +officer.' But what are you doing? Are you writing verses?" + +"Well, well, what have you brought this for, Pavel Pavlich? Put it +away." + +"All right. Perhaps you think it's no good? I could kill an elephant +with it. Will experiment with it at once. Where's that slave of yours? +He shall get us a target on the spot. Wait a second. +Hainán!--slave!--squire-at-arms!--hi!" + +Viätkin rolled out of the door and then into Hainán's closet, where for +several minutes he was heard kicking up a row. Suddenly he returned in +triumph with Pushkin's bust under his arm. + +"Well I never, Pavel Pavlich! Don't make a fool of yourself. Let that +alone." But there was not sufficient force in Romashov's objections, and +Viätkin went on as he pleased. + +"Rubbish! You chatter like a starling. Now we'll put this on the +_tabouret_. Stand up, you ass. I'll teach you, by Jove!" + +With these adjurations to poor Pushkin, Viätkin returned to Romashov, +took his stand at the window-sill, and cocked his revolver. As he was +not sober, he swung the muzzle of the weapon here and there, and +Romashov expected every second that one of them would be killed. + +The distance was about five paces. Viätkin was long in taking aim, +during which the muzzle described some dangerous curves in the air. At +last the shot rang out, and in Pushkin's right cheek appeared a big +black, irregular hole. Romashov was for some moments deafened by the +report. + +"Well aimed!" shrieked Viätkin, rejoicing. "Here's your revolver, and +don't forget my friendship. Hurry on now with your uniform jacket and +come with us to the mess. Long live the glorious Russian Army!" + +"Pavel Pavlich, I really cannot to-day," protested Romashov weakly. He +could not defend himself. In his resistance to the other's strenuous +pressing, he neither found the proper decisive word nor the tone of +voice requisite for enforcing respect, and, blaming himself inwardly for +his despicable passive weakness, he wearily followed Viätkin, who with +his shaky legs bravely stumbled among the cucumbers and turnips in the +kitchen-garden. + + * * * * * + +The officers' meeting that night was more than usually noisy and stormy, +and finally assumed an absolutely mad character. First they caroused at +mess, then drove to the railway station to drink wine, after which the +orgy proceeded in the officers' casino. Romashov held aloof at first, +was angry with himself for yielding, and experienced the feeling of +loathing that overcomes every sober individual in a company of +drunkards. The laughter struck him as being artificial, the witticisms +poor, and the singing out of tune. But the hot red wine he drank at the +station mounted to his head and produced in him a noisy, nervous +merriment. A curtain of millions, as it were, of grains of sand dancing +round each other was spread before his eyes, which were heavy with wine, +and at the same time everything seemed to him so enjoyable, comic, and +humorous. + +The hours flew like seconds, and it was only when the lamps of the +_salle-à-manger_ were lighted that Romashov began to realize how the +time had sped and that night had set in. + +"Gentlemen," called some one, "the ladies are waiting for us. Let us be +off to Schleyfer's." + +"Hurrah!--to Schleyfer's, to Schleyfer's." + +The proposal was hailed with laughter and jubilation. All got up and the +chairs danced along the floor. This evening everything, moreover, went +off, as it were, automatically. Outside the mess-room door stood a whole +row of phaetons, but nobody knew who ordered them and how they came +there. Romashov was for some time tossed between moments of +semi-consciousness and the fully wide-awake state and alertness of mind +of a sober man. Suddenly he found himself sitting in a carriage beside +Viätkin. On the front seat sat a third person whose features Romashov +could not distinguish in the darkness of the night, however much he +might, by violent jerks of his body sidewards, bend forward to look +closely at the unknown. The latter's face was quite dark. Now it shrunk +up to the size of a man's fist, at another time it stretched itself out +awry, and then seemed to Romashov extraordinarily familiar. Romashov +suddenly burst out into a roar of laughter that sounded unnatural and +idiotic, and did not seem to come from himself, but from some stranger +in his immediate vicinity. + +"You're lying, Viätkin. I know very well, my dear fellow, where we are +going to," babbled Romashov, in a drunken, chaffing tone. "You're taking +me to the girls, you rascal." + +At that moment a carriage passed them with a deafening noise. By the +light of the lamp the outlines of a couple of brown country horses +dragging quickly along in an awkward and ridiculous gallop an open +carriage with a drunken coachman slashing his whip in a frantic way, and +four no less intoxicated officers, were reproduced for a second. + +Consciousness and the faculty of reflection returned to Romashov for a +moment. Yes, it could not be disputed; he was actually on his way to a +place where women surrendered their bodies to caresses and embraces for +payment in cash. "Ugh! after all, it's perhaps the same thing in the +end. Women are women," shouted a wild, brutish, impatient voice within +him. At the same time, there rang in his soul a lovely, far-away, +scarcely audible music--the memory of Shurochka, but in this unconscious +coincidence there was nothing low, defiling, or insulting. On the +contrary, the thought of her at this moment had a refreshing, soothing, +and at the same time exciting and inflaming effect on his heart. + +In a short time he would then find himself in close contact with that +curious, mysterious, and much-vaunted species of women that he had never +gazed on before. He dreamt of how he would meet their glances, take +their hands, and listen to their merry laughter and joyous songs, and he +felt that all this would bring him relief and consolation in his +incessant longing and torturing desire for Shurochka, the only woman in +the world who existed for him. In all these dreams, however, there was +not a trace of degraded, sensual lust. As a dead-tired bird on the wing +rushes, in the cold and darkness of an autumn night, blindly against the +irresistibly attractive flood of light from the lighthouse, so, too, +his soul, tortured by a cruel and capricious woman, was drawn into this +sphere of undisguised, sensual tenderness and careless, boisterous +merriment. + +Suddenly the horses made a sharp swerve to the right, and at once the +noise of the carriage and the squeaking of the wheel-tyres ceased. The +carriage rocked here and there in the shallow cavities of the deep, +sandy road. Romashov opened his eyes. Far beneath him and on a wide +stretch of land, a multitude of small lights or lamps here and there +cast their faint, uncertain glimmer. Now they disappeared behind +invisible trees and houses, now they bobbed up before his eyes, and it +looked as if a huge, fantastic, disordered crowd of people or a +procession with torches and lanterns was moving forward down the road. +An acrid smell of wormwood, a big dark branch slowly waved up and down +over the heads of the parties who were being driven along, and, at the +same time, they found themselves suddenly environed by a new +atmosphere--cold, raw, and moist, as if it had arisen from a vault. + +"Where are we?" asked Romashov. + +"At Savalie," shrieked in reply the dark figure sitting on the box-seat, +in whom Romashov now recognized Lieutenant Epifanov. "We're at +Schleyfer's, you know. Haven't you ever been here before?" + +"Go to hell," grumbled Romashov. Epifanov kept on laughing. + +"Hark you, Yuri Alexievich, shall we tell the little darlings in a +whisper what an innocent you are? Later on, you'll put all our noses out +of joint." + +Again Romashov felt, half-unconsciously, that he had sunk back into +impenetrable darkness, until he, as suddenly, found himself standing in +a large room with parqueted floor and Vienna chairs along the walls. +Over the entrance to the room, and over three other doors leading to +small, dark chambers, lay hangings of red and yellow flowered cotton. +Curtains of the same stuff and colour flickered in the draught from the +windows opened on a gloomy backyard. Lamps were burning on the walls, +but the great room was filled with smoke and the smell of meat from the +adjacent kitchen; and the fumes were only dispersed occasionally by the +balmy spring air entering through the window, and by the fresh scent of +the white acacias that bloomed outside the house. + +About ten officers took part in this excursion. All seemed bent on +solving the delicate problem of contriving to shriek, laugh, and bawl at +the same time. Romashov strolled about the room with a feeling of naïve, +unreflecting enjoyment, and, with a certain astonishment and delight, +gradually recognized all his boon-companions--Biek-Agamalov, Lbov, +Viätkin, Epifanov, Artschakovski, Olisár, etc. Even Staff-Captain +Lieschtschenko was discovered there. He sat huddled up in a window with +his usual, eternal, resigned _Weltschmerz_ grin. On a table stood a +respectable row of bottles containing ale and a dark, thick, syrupy +cherry-cordial. No one knew who had ordered all these bottles. They were +thought--like so much else that night--to have come of their own accord. +Romashov drank, proposed healths, and embraced every one he met, and +began to feel sticky and messy about his lips and fingers. + +There were five or six women in the room. One of them--a girl of +fourteen dressed as a page, with rose-coloured stockings--sat on +Biek-Agamalov's knee and played with his epaulettes. Another--a big, +coarse blonde in a red silk _basquine_ and dark skirt, and with powdered +face, and broad, black, painted eyebrows--went straight up to Romashov. + +"Gracious, my good sir, why do you look so miserable? Come with me into +that room," she added in a whisper. + +She threw herself carelessly on a table, and there sat with one leg over +the other. Romashov noticed how the strong outlines of her well-formed +knee were shown off by the thin skirt. A shudder thrilled him, and his +hands trembled. + +"What's your name?" + +"Mine? Malvina." She turned away with an air of indifference, and began +swinging her legs. "Order me a cigarette." + +Two Jewish musicians came on the scene, one with a violin, the other +with a tambourine. Soon a vulgar, hackneyed, screeching polka tune was +heard in the room, whereupon Olisár and Artschakovski at once began to +dance the _cancan_. They hopped round the room first on one leg, then on +the other, snapped their fingers, wagged their hips, and bent backwards +and forwards with vulgar, cynical gestures. This unattractive ballet was +suddenly interrupted by Biek-Agamalov, who jumped off the table, +shrieking in his sharp, penetrating voice-- + +"To hell with the _starar_! Out with the ragtag and bobtail!" + +Down by the door stood two young exquisites, both of whom had many +acquaintances among officers, and had even been guests at the regimental +soirées. One of them was a Treasury official, the other a landed +proprietor and brother of the police magistrate of the town. They both +belonged to the so-called "cream" of Society. + +The Treasury official turned white, but forced a smile, and answered in +an affable tone-- + +"Excuse me, gentlemen, but can't we join? We are old acquaintances, you +know. My name is Dubiezki. We should not interfere with you at all." + +"Possibly in making love, but not when the fight begins," added the +magistrate's brother, who tried to adopt a good-humoured tone. + +"Out of this!" screamed Biek-Agamalov. "March to the door!" + +"Gentlemen, by all means, put the _starar_ out," sneered Artschakovski. + +A horrible confusion arose in the room. Tables and chairs were thrown +over; the men shrieked, laughed, and stamped with all their might. The +flames of the lamps rose like fiery tongues on high. The cold night air +penetrated through the open windows, but without any cooling or calming +effect on all these half-demented fighting-cocks. The two civilians had +already been thrown into the backyard, where they were heard fiercely +screeching and threatening with tears in their voices-- + +"_Opritschniker_,[20] brigands! This affair will cost you dear. We shall +lodge a complaint with your commander, with the Governor." + +"Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo," Viätkin sneered in mockery, whilst stretching out of +the window. "Go to blazes!" + +It seemed to Romashov as if all the events of the day had followed one +another without a break, but also without the least intelligible +connection, just as if a series of wild pictures in loud and motley +colours had been unrolled before his eyes. Again were heard the scraping +of the violin and the tambourine's blustering noise. One of the +"partners" had now gone so far as to pirouette on the floor with nothing +but his shirt on. A pretty, slender woman, who had up to then escaped +Romashov's notice, with dishevelled hair over her bare neck, and sharp, +prominent shoulder-blades, wound her arms round poor Lieschtschenko's +neck and sang in his ear in her shrill soprano, and in unison with the +violin's awful melody: + + "When consumption sets its mark, + And you're lying pale and stark, + And doctors are seen fumbling round your couch." + +Bobetinski slung a glass of ale between the curtains of one of the +little, dark _cabinets_, whence very soon proceeded an angry, but +sleepy, thick voice-- + +"Aren't you ashamed, sir? Who dares ...? Such a low swine!" + +"I say! how long have you been here?" asked Romashov of the lady in the +red _basquine_, whilst, as it were, in an absent-minded way, he rested +his hand on her strong, warm knee. + +She made some answer, but he did not hear it. A fresh scene of savagery +had absorbed all his attention. Sub-lieutenant Lbov was driving before +him one of the musicians, and banging him on the head all the time with +the tambourine. The poor Jew, terrified out of his wits, ran from corner +to corner, screaming and babbling his unintelligible jargon, with wholly +ineffectual attempts to catch his long, fluttering coat-tails, and +incessantly glancing behind him from the corners of his eyes at his +unmerciful persecutor. Everybody was laughing. Artschakovski fell flat +on the floor, and wriggled with tears in his eyes and in alarming +convulsions of laughter. Directly afterwards the other Jew's piercing +yells were audible. Another of the company had snatched the violin, and +thrown it down with fearful violence. With a crashing sound that +harmonized, in an almost touching way, with the musician's desperate +cries for help, the instrument broke into a thousand fragments. What +followed this Romashov never perceived, inasmuch as, for several +minutes, he was in a sort of dark "nirvana." When he had somewhat +regained the use of his reason, he saw, as though in a fever-dream, that +all in the room were running round each other with wild shrieks and +gestures of despair. For an instant the whole swarm gathered round +Biek-Agamalov, only in the next instant to be scattered like chaff in +all directions. The majority sought safety in the little, dark +_cabinets_. + +"Out of it! I won't stand a single one!" shrieked Biek-Agamalov in +Berserker fury. He ground his teeth, stamped on the floor, and struck +about him with his clenched fists. His face was crimson; the veins in +his forehead from the roots of his hair to his nose stood like strained +ropes; his head was lowered like a bull's, and his unnaturally prominent +eyes with their bloodshot whites were terrifying. He was unable to utter +any human sounds, but groaned, like a wild beast, in a vibrating voice-- + +"Ah-ah-ah-ah!" + +Suddenly, whilst bending the upper part of his body to the left with the +suppleness of a panther, he drew his sabre, as quick as lightning, from +its sheath. The broad, sharp blade described, with a whistling sound, +several rapid circles over his head. + +In frantic terror every living creature fled helter-skelter from the +room through doors and windows, the women screaming hysterically, the +men trampling down all that lay in their way. Romashov was carried by +the current irresistibly towards the door, where an officer rushing past +caused him, by the sharp facet of his uniform-button, a long, bleeding +scratch on his face. The next moment all stood whooping and yelling in +the yard, except Romashov, who alone remained by the door of the room. +He felt his heart beating with increased force and quickness; but the +murderous, unbridled scene filled him not only with terror, but also +with an intoxicating feeling of savage, exulting defiance. + +"I will have blood!" screamed Biek-Agamalov, with gnashing teeth. The +sight of the terror he inspired deprived him of the last remains of +understanding and reflection. With frantic strength and rage he smashed, +with a few strokes, all the furniture nearest to him, and, after that, +hurled his sabre with such force at a large mirror that the glass +splinters hailed on all sides. With another blow he laid waste the +table, which was crowded with a number of bottles and glasses, the +fragments and contents of which were thrown all over the floor. + +But just at that moment cried a piercing voice of indescribable fury and +boldness-- + +"Fool! Cad!" + +This insult was hurled by the same bare-headed woman with naked arms as +had just embraced Lieschtschenko. This was the first time that Romashov +had noticed her. She was standing in a recess behind the stove, leaning +forward with clenched hands tightly pressed against her hips, and +pouring out an uninterrupted flow of "Billingsgate" with a rapidity and +readiness which the vilest market-woman might have envied. + +"Fool! Cad! Scum! I am not afraid of you! Fool! Fool! Fool!" + +Biek-Agamalov lowered his sabre, and seemed, for a moment, to lose all +power over himself. Romashov saw how his face grew whiter and whiter, +how his eyebrows puckered, and how the yellow pupils first darkened and +then hurled a blinding flash of diabolical hatred and rage which no +longer knew bounds. His knees gave way, and his head fell on his chest. +At that moment, Biek-Agamalov was no longer a human being. He was +transformed into a bloodthirsty wild beast straining every nerve for the +fatal leap. + +"Silence!" It sounded as if he had spat out the word. Speak he could +not. + +"Scoundrel, brute, beast, I shall not be silent!" shrieked the fury in +the stove corner, her body trembling all over at every word she hurled. + +Romashov felt himself getting whiter and whiter every moment. He felt a +sensation of void in his brain, a sensation of release from every +oppressive act of thought or reflection. A curious mixture of joy and +terror arose in his soul, just as the bubbles of sparkling wine ascend +to the edge of a goblet. He saw Biek-Agamalov, whilst continually +following the woman with his eyes, slowly raise his sabre above his +head. An irresistible flow of frantic jubilation, fear, inconsiderate +boldness, carried Romashov away. He rushed forward so rapidly that he +did not even hear Biek-Agamalov hiss his last question-- + +"Will you be silent? For the last time----" + +Romashov, with a force he never thought he was capable of, gripped +Agamalov's wrist. During the course of a few seconds and at a distance +of a couple of inches between their faces, the two officers eyed one +another without moving, stiff as if carved out of stone. Romashov heard +his comrade's quick, panting breath; he saw his eyes glitter with hate +and a thirst for revenge, and his lips foam with the spasmodic movements +of his lower jaw; but he felt that the fire of wrath would, in a few +minutes, be extinguished in this man who had never yet sought, of his +own accord, to curb his passions. But to Romashov this feeling of proud +triumph in a game of life and death, from which he now knew he should +come out the victor, was almost intolerable. He knew that all those who +were anxiously watching this scene from outside also realized in what +deadly danger he stood. Out in the yard and by the open windows there +brooded such a hush and quiet that, all of a sudden, a nightingale a few +paces off began to trill her joyous lay. + +"Let me go," came at last like a hoarse whisper from Biek-Agamalov's +bitten lips. + +"Biek, you must never strike a woman," replied Romashov calmly. "You +would blush for it as long as you lived." + +The last sparks of rage and madness now died out in Agamalov's eyes. +Romashov drew a deep breath as if from a long swoon. His heart beat +irregularly and quick, and his head was again heavy and feverishly hot. + +"Let me go!" shrieked Biek-Agamalov once more in a fierce tone, and +tried to release himself. Romashov felt he would no longer be able to +keep his hold of him; but he had no further dread of his wrath. He said +in a caressing brotherly tone, as he laid his hand on his comrade's +shoulder-- + +"Forgive me, Biek, but I know that a day will come when you will thank +me for this." + +Biek-Agamalov with a loud snap stuck his sabre into its sheath. + +"All right, confound you!" he screamed in an angry tone, in which, +however, there was a note of shame and confusion. "We'll settle this +matter afterwards. But what right have you----?" + +The valiant crowd in the yard now understood that all danger was over +for the present. With loud, but not quite natural, peals of laughter, +the lot now rushed into the room. But he now seemed extinguished, his +strength exhausted, and there was something apathetic and ironically +contemptuous about him. + +Now Madame Schleyfer herself--a massive lady with a hard look, small +dark pouches under her eyes, disappearing eyelashes, and great layers of +fat on her neck and bosom--entered the room. She attacked first one and +then the other of the officers; took tight hold of one by a button, of +another by a sleeve, and howled to each of them who could stand and +listen her everlasting song-- + +"Gentlemen, gentlemen, who will make good all this? Who will pay for the +mirror, the furniture, the bottles, the girls?" + +All this meanwhile was settled to the satisfaction of the authorities by +the same mysterious "benefactor" who had provided for everything else in +the course of this memorable excursion. The officers left the room in +groups. Every one of them inhaled with delight the mild, pure air of the +May night. Romashov felt all his being thrilled with a certain joyous +agitation. It seemed to him as if all traces of the day's orgies had +vanished from his brain, as if a pair of innocent fresh lips had +repurified and refreshed him by a soft kiss on his brow. + +Biek-Agamalov came up to him, took his hand, and said-- + +"Romashov, come and ride in my carriage. I wish you to do so." + +And when Romashov, on one occasion during the journey home, turned +towards the right to observe the awkward gallop of the horses, +Biek-Agamalov seized his hand and pressed it for a long time +warmly--nay, so hard that it almost caused pain. Not a word, however, +passed between the two officers during the whole way. + + + + +XIX + + +The violent emotion felt by every member of the company during the wild +scene we have just depicted found expression in a nervous irritability +which, on their return to the mess-room, took the form of reckless +arrogance and gross misbehaviour to all who happened to come across the +officers on their way home. A poor Jew coming along was stopped and +deprived of his cap. Olisár got up in the carriage, and insulted, in the +outskirts of the town, in the middle of the street, all passers-by in a +manner which cannot be decently described. Bobetinski whipped his +coachman for no reason whatever. The others sang and bawled with all +their might; only Biek-Agamalov, who rode beside Romashov, sat all the +time angry, silent, and taciturn. + +Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, the mess-rooms were +brilliantly illuminated and full of people. In the card and +billiard-rooms and at the buffet creatures with unbuttoned coats, +flaming faces, vacantly staring eyes and of uncertain gait, helplessly +collided with each other, heavily fuddled by the fumes of wine and +tobacco smoke. Romashov, who was walking about and nodding to several of +the officers, also found among them, to his great astonishment, +Nikoläiev. He was sitting by Osadchi, red in face and intoxicated, but +holding himself upright. On seeing Romashov approaching he eyed him +sharply for a few seconds, but afterwards turned abruptly aside, so as +to avoid holding out his hand to the latter, meanwhile conversing with +his neighbour with increased interest. + +"Viätkin, come here and sing," bellowed Osadchi over the heads of the +rest. + +"Yes, come let us sing," chanted Viätkin, in reply, parodying, +imitating, and caricaturing a melody from the Church ritual-- + + "Three small boys found lurching + Got an awful birching + At the parson's stile." + +Viätkin imitated in quick succession and in the same tone the strophes +recited in the remainder of the antiphon at Mass-- + + "Sexton, parson, and his clerk + Thought the smacking quite a lark. + Then the beadle said, 'By hell, + Nikifor, you smack right well.'" + + "Nikifor, you smack right well!" + +answered _pianissimo_ in complete harmony the hastily improvised choir +of drunken officers, seconded by Osadchi's softly rumbling bass voice. + +Viätkin conducted the singing, standing on a table in the middle of the +room, whilst stretching his arms in an attitude of benediction over the +heads of the "congregation." Now his eyes flashed terrifying glances of +threat and condemnation; at another time they were raised to heaven with +a languishing expression of infinite beatitude; then he hissed with rage +at those who sang out of tune; again he stopped in time by a scarcely +perceptible _tremolo_ of the palm of his hand a run to a misplaced +_crescendo_. + +"Staff-Captain Lieschtschenko, you're singing damnably. Damn it, what a +wretched ear!" roared Osadchi. "Keep quiet in the room, gentlemen. No +noise, please, when there's singing." + + "Once on a time a farmer so rich-- + Who used to like iced punch"-- + +continued Viätkin, in his improvised service of the Church. His eyes, +however, now began to smart dreadfully from the dense tobacco smoke. +Romashov was reminded by the wet and sticky tablecloth that he had not +washed his hands since dinner. He went out and made his way across the +yard to a side room called the "Officers' Shelter," which served as a +sort of lavatory. It was a cold, dismal little crib with only one +window. Several common cupboards stood along the wall, and between them, +in hospital fashion, were placed two beds, the sheets, etc., of which +were never changed. Not a man in the entire regiment could recollect +when this room was swept and cleaned. There was an intolerable stench +there, the main ingredients of which were rotting bedclothes, stinking +boots, and bad tobacco. The room was originally intended for officers of +other regiments who happened to be visiting the garrison town, but it +gradually became converted into a sort of _morgue_ for those who got +dead drunk at mess. It was almost officially designated as "the +mortuary," which name, by a dreadful irony of fate, received its full +justification from the fact that no less than two officers and one +soldier had committed suicide in it during the few years the regiment +had been garrisoned in the town. Moreover, not a year elapsed without +one suicide taking place among the officers of this regiment. + +When Romashov entered "the mortuary" he found two men sitting there on a +bed near the window. The room was dark, and it was some time before +Romashov recognized in one of the "guests" ex-Staff-Captain Klodt, +alcoholist and thief, and on those grounds expelled from the command of +his company. The other was a certain Ensign Solotuchin--a tall, lean, +bald-headed, worn-out rake and gambler, feared and despised wherever he +went for his evil, lying tongue and his conversation interlarded with +coarse cynicisms and improprieties--a veritable type of the ensigns of +the storybooks. + +Between these two worthy "birds of a feather" might be seen on the table +the dim outline of a schnapps bottle, an empty plate, and two full +glasses. The pair of boon companions were silent when Romashov entered +the room, and tried, as it were, to hide themselves in the darkness; but +when he leaned over them, they looked at him with a sly smile. + +"What, in the name of goodness, are you two doing here?" asked Romashov, +in alarm. + +"Hush!" Solotuchin made a mysterious warning gesture with his +forefinger. "Wait here, and don't disturb us." + +"Hold your jaw!" ordered Klodt in a whisper. + +At the same moment the rattling noise of a _telega_ was heard somewhere +in the distance. Then the two strangers raised their glasses, clicked +them together, and drained the contents. + +"But answer me. What is the meaning of it all?" repeated Romashov in the +same anxious tone. + +"My little greenhorn," replied Klodt in a significant whisper, "if you +must know, it's only our usual little morning repast; but now I hear +the _telega_, Ensign," Klodt went on to say as he turned to Solotuchin. +"It's time then to finish our drink and be off. What do you think of the +moonlight? Will it suit?" + +"My glass is empty already," replied Solotuchin, glancing out of the +window at the moon's slender, pointed sickle that stood drowsy and +sleepy in the sky, and hung down over the little slumbering town. "But +let's just wait a wee bit. S-sh! I thought I heard a dog barking." + +And again they bent towards one another to resume their mysterious +conversation, carried on in a low voice; the spluttering tone and +evident lack of coherence witnessed clearly enough that the schnapps had +begun to take effect. From the _salle-à-manger_ hard by came now and +then the melancholy, hollow tones of Viätkin's and Osadchi's improvised +Mass for the Dead, which had a weird and threatening ring about it in +the silent night. + +Romashov seized his head with both hands. + +"I beseech you, gentlemen, to stop this. I can't stand it any longer." + +"Go to the devil!" roared Solotuchin. "No, stop, dear boy--whither away? +But, by all that's unholy, you shall first drink a glass with two fine +fellows. Catch tight hold of him, Captain, I'll shut the door." + +With a yell of laughter the two scoundrels jumped up to seize Romashov; +but the latter's self-command was exhausted. The whole hideous +situation--this disgusting drinking-bout in the weird, dark room with +its insufferable, stifling atmosphere--this mysterious midnight meeting +between two individuals who were a danger to society--the vulgar +bellowing of the drunken officers and their blasphemous parody of the +Russian Mass--all this filled him with frantic terror and nausea. With +a piercing shriek, he thrust Solotuchin from him, and, trembling in +every limb, rushed deliberately from the mortuary. + +Common sense now urged him to go home, but a strange, unfathomable +inward force again drove him, against his will, to the mess-room. There +some of the wine-soaked company were asleep on the window-sills and +chairs. A stifling heat prevailed, and, in spite of the wide-open +windows, the drowsily burning lights and lamps were never reached by a +quickening draught of air. The poor, dead-tired soldiers who attended to +the waiting could scarcely stand on their legs, and every moment stifled +a yawn, but as yet none of the champion boozers had entertained a +thought of breaking up. + +Viätkin had again taken his place on a table, and was singing in his +high, caressive tenor voice-- + + "Swift as the ocean's + Roaring billows, + Vanishes life in eternity." + +There were several officers in the regiment with really beautiful +voices, which even now were very effective in spite of the drink. + +This simple, plaintive melody exercised, at this moment, an ennobling +influence on all, and more than one of them experienced a pricking, +remorseful feeling at the thought of his worthless, sinful life. + + "Once you're in your coffin, + Soon the world forgets your name," + +continued Viätkin in a voice of emotion, and his sleepy but good eyes +were dimmed with tears. Artschakovski seconded him with unimpeachable +care. To make his voice thrill he grasped his larynx with two fingers +and shook it. Osadchi accompanied it all with his heavy, long-drawn, +organ notes. + +After the singing there reigned a deep silence for a few moments. +Suddenly Osadchi began again to recite in a subdued tone and eyes cast +down-- + + "All ye who wander in sorrow's heavy, narrow road----" + +"No, that's enough of it," a voice exclaimed. "This is now, I suppose, +the tenth time we have taken up this cursed Mass of Requiem----" + +But the rest had already intoned the solemn melody that divides the +recitative of the antiphon, and once more, in the reeking and dirty +room, resounded the requiem over St. John of Damascus in clear, +full-voiced strains that express in so masterly a way the inconsolable +sorrow for death's inexorable cruelty-- + + "All ye who believe in Me enter into the joy of My Father." + +Artschakovski, who was as familiar with the ritual as the most +experienced choir-singer, at once repeated the following answer in +accordance with the text-- + + "With our whole soul we all praise," etc. + +And so the whole antiphon was chanted; but when Osadchi's turn came to +take up the recitation for the last time, he lowered his head like an +infuriated bull, the veins in his neck swelled, and as he directed his +melancholy, cruel, and threatening glances towards those present, he +declaimed in a half-singing tone, and in a voice that resembled the roar +of distant thunder-- + + "Give, O Lord, Thy departed slave, Nikifor, + A blessed departure hence and eternal rest." + +In the midst of this lofty and pious invocation he stopped short, and, +to the horror of the bystanders, uttered two words of the most +blasphemous, cynical, and disgusting import. + +Romashov jumped up, and thumped his fist, like a madman, on the table. + +"Be silent! I forbid this," he roared in a voice trembling with anger +and pain. "What are you laughing at, Captain Osadchi? You ought to be +ashamed. Your eyes are mocking, but I see and know that remorse, terror, +and the tortures of hell are raging in your heart." + +A hideous silence on the part of all followed this outbreak of temper. +Then a voice from the crowd was heard to exclaim-- + +"Is he drunk?" + +These three words relaxed all the terrible tension of the situation; but +at the same moment let loose afresh--just as a few hours previously in +Schleyfer's den of infamy--all the evil spirits of orgy. There was +shrieking, hooting, stamping, jumping, and dancing; the whole room was +turned in a trice into an indescribable, savage, motley chaos. Viätkin, +who jumped on to a table, hit his head against the big hanging lamp, +which then swayed in awful zigzag curves, producing for some time a +fantastic series of dissolving views on the ceiling and walls, on which +drunken, frantic human beings were depicted as marvellous, gigantic +shapes, or as huddled, dwarfish figures resembling embryos. + +The debauch seemed at last to reach its height. All these wretched +creatures were possessed, as it were, by a savage, exultant, ruthless +fiend who, mocking at all the laws of sense and decency, forced his +victims, by blasphemies, oaths, and all kinds of shamelessness, to +abdicate the last shreds of their human dignity. + +Romashov, in the smoke and stuffiness, suddenly caught sight of a person +with features distorted by rage and incessant hooting, which for that +reason seemed to him, in the first instant, unrecognizable. It was none +other than Nikoläiev, who, now foaming with hate and fury, roared to his +enemy: + +"You're a disgrace to the whole regiment, you and Nasanski! Not a word +or, by God! I'll----" + +Romashov felt that some one was pulling him, gently and cautiously, a +few paces backwards. He turned round and recognized Agamalov, but at the +same instant forgot him, and turned quickly round to Nikoläiev. White +with suppressed rage, he answered in a low, hoarse voice and a forced +and bitter smile-- + +"What reason have you to mention Nasanski's name? But perhaps you have +some private, secret cause for hating him?" + +"Rascal, scoundrel, your hour is come!" screamed Nikoläiev in a loud, +trembling voice. With flashing eyes he raised his tightly clenched fist +to Romashov's face, but the expected blow never fell. Romashov +experienced a momentary fear, together with a torturing, sickening +sensation in his chest and ribs, and he now noticed, for the first time, +that he was grasping some object with the fingers of his right hand. +Then with a rapid movement he threw the remains of his half-emptied +glass of ale into Nikoläiev's face. + +Instantly after this a violent blow in the region of his left eye struck +him like a deafening thunderclap, and with the howl of a wounded wild +beast, Romashov rushed at his foe. A heavy fall, and the two rolled over +one another on the ground with furious blows and kicks. A thick cloud of +dust eddied round the combatants; chairs and tables were flung in all +directions, but the two continued, with unabated fury, to force, in +turn, each other's head against the filthy floor, and panting and with +rattling throats, tried to tear each other to pieces. Romashov knew he +had managed somehow or other to get his fingers well into Nikoläiev's +mouth at one of the corners, and he strove with all his might to rend +Nikoläiev's cheek, with the object of destroying those hateful features +for all time. He himself, however, felt no pain when his head and elbows +were bumped time after time, in the course of the fight, against the +hard floor. + +He had not the slightest notion as to how the battle finally ended. He +suddenly found himself standing in a corner, plucked from the fight by +kindly hands, and, by the same well-meaning helper, prevented from +renewing his attack on Nikoläiev. Biek-Agamalov handed Romashov a glass +of water, and his teeth could be heard chattering, through the +convulsive twitchings of his lower jaw, against the side of the glass. +His uniform was torn to tatters in the back and elbows, and one +shoulder-strap swung hither and thither on its torn fastening. Romashov +was unable to speak, but his silent lips moved incessantly in fruitless +efforts to whisper audibly-- + +"I'll--show--him. I challenge him." + +Old Liech, who had been in a delightful slumber at the edge of his table +during all that fearful row, now arose fully awake, sober, and severe in +countenance, and, in a bitter and hectoring tone rarely employed by him, +said-- + +"Gentlemen, in my capacity as the eldest here present, I order you all +to leave the mess instantly, and to go to your respective quarters. A +report of what has taken place here to-night is to be handed in to the +commander of the regiment to-morrow." + +The order was obeyed without the slightest demur. All departed, cowed +and shamefaced, and consequently shy at meeting each other's glances. +Each individual dreaded to read in his comrade's eyes his own shame and +self-contempt, and they all gave one the impression of dirty little +malicious animals, to whose dim and undeveloped brains a gleam of human +understanding had suddenly managed to grope its way. + +Day began to dawn. A delightful, glorious morning with a clear, +fleckless sky, refreshing coolness, and infinite harmony and peace. The +moist trees, wrapped in thin, curling exhalations arising from the +earth, and scarcely visible to the eye, had just awakened silently and +imperceptibly from their deep, mysterious, nocturnal sleep. And when +Romashov, on his way home, glanced at them, at the sky, and at the grass +faintly sparkling like silver in the dew, he felt himself so low, vile, +degenerate, and disgusting that he realized, with unutterable +melancholy, how unworthy he was to be greeted by the innocent, smiling +child-eyes of awakening Nature. + + + + +XX + + +On that same day--it was Wednesday--Romashov received the following curt +official communication-- + + The Court of Honour of the--th Infantry Regiment hereby requests + Sub-lieutenant Romashov to attend at 6 p.m. the officers' + common-room. Dress: ordinary uniform. + +LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MIGUNOV, +_President of the Court_. + +On perusing the letter, Romashov could not restrain an ironical smile. +This so-called "ordinary uniform," i.e. undress uniform with +shoulder-knots and belt, was to be worn, under the most _extraordinary_ +circumstances, before the Court, for public reprimand, when appearing +for examination by the commander of his regiment, etc., etc. + +At 6 p.m. Romashov put in an appearance at the mess, and told the +orderly to send in his name to the president. The answer was to the +effect that he was to wait. Romashov sat down by an open window in the +dining-room, took up a paper and began to read; but he did not +understand a word of the contents: everything seemed to him so +uninteresting as he cast his eyes mechanically down one column after +another. Three officers who were in the mess before Romashov returned +his salutation with marked coldness, and continued their conversation in +a low voice, with the obvious intention of preventing Romashov from +catching what they were saying. Only one of them, Michin, pressed +Romashov's hand long and warmly, with moist eyes, blushing and +tongue-tied. He at once turned away, put on his cloak and hat hurriedly +and awkwardly, and ran out of the room. + +Nikoläiev shortly afterwards entered through the buffet. He was pale, +his eyelids were of a bluish hue, his left hand was shaking with +spasmodic twitches, and just below his temples a bluish swelling was +visible. At once the recollection of the fight on the previous day came +to Romashov with painful distinctness. He hung his head, frowned, and, +almost annihilated with shame, hid himself behind his newspaper. He +closed his eyes, and listened in nervous tension to every sound in the +room. + +Romashov heard Nikoläiev order a glass of cognac from the waiter, and +then greet one of the company. After that he walked up to where Romashov +was sitting, and passed him quite closely. Somebody left the room, the +door of which was shut again. A few seconds later Romashov heard in a +whispering tone behind him-- + +"Don't look back. Sit still and listen carefully to what I have to say." + +It was Nikoläiev. The newspaper shook in Romashov's hands. + +"As you're aware, all conversation between us is now forbidden; but damn +all these French niceties. What occurred yesterday can never be put +straight again, made little of, or be consigned to oblivion. In spite of +everything, however, I regard you as a man of conscience and honour. I +implore you--do you hear?--I implore you, not a word about my wife and +the anonymous letters. You understand me?" + +Romashov, who was hidden by the newspaper from the eyes of his brother +officer, made a slow inclination of his head. The sound of steps +crunching the sand was audible from the courtyard. Romashov allowed a +few minutes to elapse, after which he turned round and glanced through +the window. Nikoläiev had gone. + +"Your Honour!" the orderly suddenly stood, as if he had risen from the +earth, at Romashov's side. "I am ordered to ask you to walk in." + +Along one side of the wall were placed several card tables, over which a +green cloth had been spread. Behind these tables sat the members of the +court, with their backs to the window. In consequence of this, it was +difficult to distinguish their faces. In the midst of them, in an +arm-chair, was seated Lieutenant-Colonel Migunov, the president--a fat, +pursy man without a neck, but with big, round shoulders which protruded +in quite an unnatural manner. On each side of Migunov sat +Lieutenant-Colonels Rafalski and Liech, and moreover, on the right, +Osadchi and Peterson; on the left, Captain Duvernois and the commissary +to the regiment, Staff-Captain Doroshenko. The table in front of all +these gentlemen was virtually empty, except that before Doroshenko, the +court prosecutor-in-ordinary, lay a heap of papers. It was cold and dark +in the great, bare room, although out-of-doors the sunshine was +gloriously warm. Everywhere the nose was assailed by a drowsy smell of +mustiness and rotting, moth-eaten furniture. + +The president laid his big, white, fat hands on the tablecloth, examined +them minutely, and then began in a dry, official tone-- + +"Sub-lieutenant Romashov, the Officers' Court of Honour, which meets +to-day by order of the commander of the regiment, is directed to +examine closely into the circumstances of the deplorable and, to the +officers as a body, disgraceful scene that took place between you and +Lieutenant Nikoläiev last night, and it is incumbent on you to render to +us a most punctilious account of what you have to say with regard to +this painful affair." + +Romashov stood before his judges with his arms hanging down, and plucked +at the fur lining of his cap. He felt like a hunted animal, but at the +same time as clumsy, feeble, and indifferent to everything as a +schoolboy just "ploughed" at an examination is to his teachers' threats +and his school-fellows' jeers. Coughing and stammering, in unconnected +phrases and with contradictions and repetitions, Romashov began his +report. At the same time, and whilst slowly observing the high +"tribunal" seated before him, he made a sort of appraisement of the +private or personal feelings of its individual members towards him. +"Migunov has a heart of stone, and it is a matter of supreme +indifference to him how the affair turns out; but the place of honour as +president and the great responsibility attached to it are, in the +highest degree, flattering to his vanity. Lieutenant-Colonel 'Brehm' is +looking miserable. Oh, you good old chap, perhaps you are sitting +thinking of that ten-rouble note which was never returned to you? Old +Liech looks glum. He's sober to-day in honour of the occasion, but the +pouches under his eyes are bigger than usual. He's not my enemy, but has +so many sins of his own to answer that he must take advantage of the +occasion, and play the part of guardian and protector of morality and +the 'honour of an officer.' So far as Osadchi and Peterson are +concerned, they are both notoriously my enemies. By invoking the law, I +might certainly challenge Osadchi--the whole of the row began through +his blasphemously parodying the Mass for the Dead--but what then? The +result in any case will be the same. Peterson smiles out of one corner +of his mouth in his usual snake-like way. I am just wondering what share +he had in those anonymous letters. Duvernois--a sleepy beast, whose +great, troubled eyes put one in mind of a cuttlefish's. Ah, yes, I've +never been one of Duvernois's favourites, and just as little of +Doroshenko's. Yuri Alexievich, my dear boy, the prospect does indeed +look gloomy for you." + +"One instant, if you please," interrupted Osadchi. "President, will you +permit me to put a question?" + +"Certainly," replied Migunov, with a gracious nod. + +"Tell me, Sub-lieutenant Romashov," began Osadchi, in an affectedly +imposing and drawling tone, "where were you before you came to the mess +in such an inexcusable condition?" + +Romashov blushed deeply, and felt big drops of sweat on his forehead. + +"I was--I was," he stammered, "I was in a brothel," he added almost in a +whisper. + +"Ha, ha--in a brothel," repeated Osadchi, as he purposely raised his +voice and pronounced every word with unsparing distinctness. "And no +doubt you had drinks there." + +"Yes, I had been drinking," answered Romashov, in an abrupt tone. + +"I have no wish to put any more questions," said Osadchi, turning with a +bow to the president. + +"Sub-lieutenant, be good enough to continue your report," resumed +Migunov, "You remember you have acknowledged that you threw the glass +of ale at Nikoläiev--well?" + +Romashov began his story again as unmethodically and unconnectedly as +before, but honourably endeavouring not to give any details. He had +already, in an indirect way and with much shame, succeeded in expressing +the regret he felt at his unworthy conduct, when he was once more +interrupted, this time by Captain Peterson. The latter was rubbing his +long, yellow-wax coloured hands with their sharp, dirty finger-nails +just as if he were washing himself, and said in his studiously +polite--nay, almost friendly--thin, wheedling voice-- + +"Ah, all that is quite fit and proper, and such a voluntary confession, +in a way, does you credit; but tell me, were you not, before this +painful story began, in the habit of visiting Lieutenant Nikoläiev's +house?" + +Romashov drew himself up and, looking straight, not at Captain Peterson, +but at Migunov, replied bluntly: + +"That is true, but I cannot understand what that has to do with the +matter." + +"Pray don't get excited," exclaimed Peterson. "I only want you to answer +my questions. Tell me then, was there any special cause of mutual enmity +between you and Lieutenant Nikoläiev? I do not mean any difference in +the service, but a cause of a quite--er--if I may so put it, domestic +nature?" + +Romashov pulled himself up to his full height, and his glance pierced +with undisguised hatred his enemy's treacherous, black, consumptive +eyes. + +"I have not visited Lieutenant Nikoläiev's home more frequently than +those of my other acquaintances," he replied in a hard and cutting tone. +"No previous enmity has existed between us. The whole thing happened +unexpectedly and accidentally, when we were both the worse for liquor." + +"Heh, heh, heh, we have already heard about the insobriety," Captain +Peterson chimed in; "but I will ask you once more, had not an unfriendly +meeting already taken place between you and Lieutenant Nikoläiev? I do +not for an instant suggest that you had quarrelled or come to blows, but +quite simply that--how shall I put it?--you were a little at variance in +your views of certain scandalous reports and intrigues?" + +"President, am I bound to reply to all questions that are put to me?" +exclaimed Romashov. + +"That rests entirely with you," replied Migunov coldly. "You can, if you +wish, absolutely refuse to answer. You can also commit your answer to +writing. That is your privilege." + +"In such case I hereby declare that I will not answer any of Captain +Peterson's questions, and that not only in my interest but in his." + +After Romashov had answered a few questions of minor importance the +examination was declared closed. Nevertheless, he had on two occasions +to give the court supplementary information, first in the evening of the +same day, and then again on the day following, viz., Thursday morning. +However careless and inexperienced Romashov might be in all the +practical circumstances of life, he nevertheless saw soon enough that +the court was performing its functions in the most negligent and +indiscreet way, and had therefore been guilty, not only of a revolting +lack of tact, but also of utter illegality. In defiance of Section 149 +of the "Statute concerning Discipline," by which every communication to +unauthorized persons of what takes place at such examinations is in +plain language strictly forbidden, the members of the "Court of Honour" +did not scruple to relate everything straight off to their wives and +relations. The latter spread the scandal still further among the other +ladies of "Society," who in their turn discussed the matter with their +maidservants, charwomen, etc. Before twenty-four hours had elapsed +Romashov was the talk of the entire town and "hero of the day." When he +passed along the street he was gazed at from windows and doors, between +the hedge-posts of backyards, and from the vantage of garden-bushes and +arbours. Women from a good distance off pointed at him with their +finger, and he often heard his name whispered behind his back. Nobody in +the town doubted that a duel between him and Nikoläiev was +inevitable--nay, they even began to bet about the upshot of it. + +As Romashov was passing Lykatschev's house on Thursday morning he +suddenly heard his name shouted. + +"Yuri Alexievich, Yuri Alexievich, come here." + +Romashov stopped, and soon discovered Katya Lykatschev standing on a +bench inside the fence. She was still in morning dress, which chiefly +consisted of a _kimono_, the triangular arrangement of which in front +left the delicate virginal neck wholly exposed. And she was altogether +so fresh and rosy that for an instant Romashov even felt light at heart. + +Katya leant over the fence to enable Romashov to reach her hand, which +was still cool and moist from the morning bath. She began at once to +chatter and lisp at her usual pace: + +"Where have you been all this time? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, +forgetting your friends in that way! _Zoi, zoi, zoi_--hush! I have long +known everything, everything." She stared at Romashov with great +terror-stricken eyes. "Take this and hang it round your throat. Hear and +obey at once. Look, if you please." + +From the fold of her _kimono_, straight from her bosom, she drew out an +amulet that hung by a silk cord, and shyly put it into Romashov's hand. +The amulet still felt balmy from its nest against the young woman's warm +body. + +"Will it help?" asked Romashov, in a jesting tone. "What is it?" + +"That's a secret, and don't you dare to laugh, you ungodly creature. +_Zoi, zoi!_" + +"Hang it, if I'm not beginning to be a man of note," thought Romashov, +as he said good-bye to Katya. "Splendid girl!" But he could not prevent +himself, though it might be for the last time, from thinking of himself +in the third person: + +"And over the old warrior's rugged features stole a melancholy smile." + +On that same evening he and Nikoläiev were again summoned to the Court. +The two enemies stood before the green table almost side by side. They +did not once look at each other, but they equally felt each other's +high-strung emotion, and were, in consequence, still more excited. Their +eyes were fixed, as though by magnetism, on the president's face when he +at last began to read the verdict of the Court. + +"The members of the Officers' Court of Honour of the--th Regiment" (here +followed their Christian and surnames in full), "under the presidency of +Lieutenant-Colonel Migunov, have inquired into the matter of the fight, +in the mess, between Lieutenant Nikoläiev and Sub-lieutenant Romashov, +and the Court, by reason of the serious nature of the case, finds a duel +is necessary to satisfy the wounded honour of the regiment. This decree +of the Court is ratified by the commander of the regiment." + +Lieutenant-Colonel Migunov took off his spectacles, and replaced them in +their case. + +"It is incumbent on you, gentlemen," he went on to say in a sepulchral +voice, "to choose two seconds apiece, who are to meet here at 9 p.m. to +agree as to the conditions of the duel. Moreover," added Migunov, as he +got up and put his spectaclecase in his back-pocket, "moreover, I must +tell you that the verdict just read possesses only a conditionally +binding force on you, viz. it rests in your free discretion either to +submit to the decree of the Court or"--Migunov paused and made a gesture +by which he meant to express his absolute indifference--"leave the +regiment. You ought, gentlemen, to keep apart. However, one thing more. +Not in my capacity as president of the Court, but as an old comrade, I +must advise you, gentlemen, for the avoidance of further unpleasantness +and complications prior to the duel, not to visit the mess. _Au +revoir._" + +Nikoläiev made a sharp, military "Face-about," and walked with rapid +steps out of the room. Romashov followed slowly after. He had no fear, +but he felt at once utterly lonely, abandoned, and shut off from the +entire world. When he reached the steps he gazed for some time, calm and +astonished, at the sky, the trees, a cow grazing on the other side of +the fence, the sparrows burrowing in the high road, and thought, "So +everything lives, struggles, and worries about its existence, except +myself. I require nothing and I have no interests. I am doomed; I am +alone, and dead already to this world." + +With a feeling of sickness and disgust he went to find Biek-Agamalov and +Viätkin, whom he had chosen for his seconds. Both granted his request; +Biek-Agamalov with a gloomy, solemn countenance, Viätkin with many +hearty handshakes. + +It was impossible for Romashov to return home. + +Never had the thought of his uncomfortable abode seemed so repulsive to +him as at the present moment. In these gloomy hours of spiritual +depression, abandonment, and weariness of life, he needed a trusty, +intelligent, and sympathetic friend--a man with brains and heart. + +Then he thought of Nasanski. + + + + +XXI + + +Nasanski was, as always, at home. He had only just awakened from a heavy +sleep following intoxication, and was lying on his back with only his +underclothing on and his hands under his head. In his troubled eyes +might be read sickness of life and physical weariness. His face had not +yet lost its sleepy and lifeless expression when Romashov, stooping over +his friend, said in a troubled and uncertain voice-- + +"Good-day, Vasili Nilich. Perhaps I have come at an inconvenient time?" + +"Good-day," replied Nasanski, in a hoarse and weak voice. "Any news? Sit +down." + +He offered Romashov his hot, clammy hand, but looked at him, not as at a +dear and ever-welcome friend, but as it were a troublous dream-picture +that still lingered after his drunken sleep. + +"Aren't you well?" asked Romashov shyly, as he threw himself down on the +corner of the bed. "In that case I'll go at once, I won't disturb you." + +Nasanski lifted his head a couple of inches from the pillow, and by an +effort he peered, with deeply puckered forehead, at Romashov. + +"No--wait. Oh, how my head aches! Listen, Georgi Alexievich. I see that +something unusual has happened. If I could only collect my thoughts! +What is it?" + +Romashov looked at him with silent pity. Nasanski's whole appearance +had undergone a terrible change since the two friends had last seen each +other. His eyes were sunken and surrounded by black rings; his temples +had a yellow hue; the rough, wrinkled skin over his cheek-bones hung +limply down, and was partly concealed by the sticky, wet tufts of hair +that drooped. + +"Nothing particular. I only wanted to see you. To-morrow I am to fight a +duel with Nikoläiev, and I was loath to go home. But nothing matters +now. _Au revoir._ You see--I had nobody else to talk to and my heart is +heavy." + +Nasanski closed his eyes, and his features made a still more painful +impression. It was evident that he had, by a really abnormal effort of +will, tried to recover consciousness, and now, when he opened his eyes, +a spark of keen understanding was at last visible in his glance. + +"Well, well, I'll tell you what we'll do----" Nasanski turned on his +side by an effort and raised himself on his elbow. "But first give +me--out of the cupboard, you know---- No, let the apples be--there +should be a few peppermint drops--thanks, my friend. I'll tell you what +we'll do---- Faugh, how disgusting! Take me out into the fresh air. Here +it's intolerable. Always the same hideous hallucinations. Come with me; +we'll get a boat, then we can chat. Will you?" + +With a stern face, and an expression of utter loathing on his +countenance, he drained glass after glass. Romashov observed Nasanski's +ashy complexion gradually assume a deeper hue, and his beautiful blue +eyes regain life and brilliancy. + +When they reached the street they took a fly and drove to the river +flowing past the very outskirts of the town, which there swells out to a +dam, on one side of which stood a mill driven by turbines, an enormous +red building belonging to a Jew. On the other shore stood a few +bathing-houses, and there, too, boats might be hired. Romashov sat by +the oars, and Nasanski assumed a half-recumbent position in the stern. + +The river was very broad here, the stream weak, the banks low and +overgrown with long, juicy grass that hung down over the water, and out +of it rose tall green reeds and masses of big, white water-lilies. + +Romashov related the particulars of his fight with Nikoläiev. Nasanski +listened abstractedly and gazed down at the river, which in lazy, +sluggish eddies flowed away like molten glass in the wake of the boat. + +"Tell me candidly, Romashov, have you any fear?" asked Nasanski, in a +low voice. + +"Of the duel? No, I'm not afraid of that," replied Romashov irritably, +but he became abruptly silent, whilst, in the flash of a second, he saw +himself standing face to face with Nikoläiev, and with hypnotized eyes +gazing at the black, threatening muzzle of his revolver. "No, no," added +Romashov hastily, "I will not lie and boast that I'm not afraid. On the +contrary, I think it terrible; but I also know that I shall not behave +like a coward, and that I shall never apologize." + +Nasanski dipped the tips of his fingers in the softly rippling water, +warm with the evening glow, and said slowly, in a weak voice often +interrupted by coughing: + +"Ah, my friend, my dear Romashov, why will you do this thing? Only think +if what you say is true, and you are not a coward. Why not then show +your moral courage in a still higher degree by refusing to fight this +duel?" + +"He has insulted me, struck me--on the face," replied Romashov, with +newly kindled, burning indignation. + +"Well, admitting that," resumed Nasanski gently, with his tender, +sorrowful eyes fixed on Romashov, "what does that signify? Time heals +all wounds; everything in the world is buried and disappears, even the +recollection of this scandal. You yourself will in time forget both your +hatred and your sufferings; but you'll never forget a man you have +killed. He will stand ever at your side, at the head of your bed, at +your dinner-table, when you are alone, and when you are amidst the +bustle of the world. Empty-heads, idiots, pretentious imitators and +parrots will, of course, at all times solemnly assure you that a murder +in the course of a _duel_ is no murder. What madmen! No, a murder is, +and always will be, a murder. And the most horrible thing about it is +not in death and suffering, in pools of blood or in corpses, but +inasmuch as it deprives a human being of _the joys of life_. Oh, how +priceless is life!" exclaimed Nasanski suddenly, in a high voice and +with tears in his eyes. "Who do you suppose believes in the reality of +an existence after this one? Not you, or I, or any other man of sound +reason. Therefore death is feared by all. Only half-demented, ecstatic +barbarians or 'the foolish in the Lord' allow themselves to be deluded +into the notion that they will be greeted on the other side of the +grave, in the garden of Paradise, by the beatific hymns of celestial +eunuchs. Moreover, we have those who, silently despising such old wives' +fables and puerilities, cross the threshold of death. Others again +picture the empire of the grave as a cold, dark, bare room. No, my +friend, there is no such future state. In death there is neither cold, +nor darkness, nor space, nor even fear--nothing but absolute +annihilation." + +Romashov shipped his oars, and it was only by observing the green shore +gently stealing by that one could tell that the boat was moving onwards. + +"Yes--annihilation," Romashov repeated slowly, in a dreamy tone. + +"But why cudgel your brains over this? Gaze instead at the living +landscape around you. How exquisite is life!" shouted Nasanski, with a +powerful and eloquent gesture. "Oh, thou beauty of the Godhead--thou +infinite beauty! Look at this blue sky, this calm and silent water, and +you will tremble with joy and rapture. Look at yon water-mill far in the +distance, softly moving its sails. Look at the fresh verdure of the bank +and the mischievous play of the sunbeams on the water. How wonderfully +lovely and peaceful is all this!" Nasanski suddenly buried his face in +his hands and burst out weeping; but he recovered his self-possession +immediately, and, without any shame for his tears, he went on to say, +while looking at Romashov with moist, glistening eyes: + +"No, even if I were to fall under the railway train, and were left lying +on the line with broken and bleeding limbs, and any one were to ask me +if life were beautiful, I should none the less, and even by summoning my +last remains of strength, answer enthusiastically, 'Ah, yes, even now +life is glorious.' How much joy does not sight alone give us, and so, +too, music, the scent of flowers, and woman's love? And then the human +understanding: thought which alone is our life's golden sun--the eternal +source of noble pleasure and imperishable bliss. Yurochka--pardon me +calling you so, my friend"--Nasanski held out his trembling hand to +Romashov as though entreating forgiveness--"suppose you were shut up in +prison, and you were doomed all your life to stare at crumbling bricks +of the wall of your cell--no, let us suppose that in your prison dungeon +there never penetrated a ray of light or a sound from the outer world. +Well, what more? What would that be in comparison with all the +mysterious terrors of death? Yet if thought, memory, imagination, the +spirit's faculty of creation remained, you would not only be able to +live, but even find moments of enthusiasm and the joy of life." + +"Yes, life is priceless," exclaimed Romashov, interrupting him. + +"It's magnificent," Nasanski went on to say hotly, "yet people wish two +rational creatures to kill each other for a woman's sake, or to +re-establish their so-called honour! But who is it then he kills?--this +miserable living clod of earth that arrogates to himself the proud name +of _man?_ Is it himself or his neighbour? No, he kills the gracious +warmth and lifegiving sun, the bright sky, and all nature with its +infinite beauty and charm. He kills that which never, never, never will +return. Oh, what madmen!" + +Nasanski ceased, shook his head sorrowfully, and collapsed. The boat +glided into the reeds. Romashov again took the oars. High, hard, green +stalks bowed slowly and gravely, gently scraping the boat's gunwale. +Amid the tall rushes there was shade and coolness. + +"What shall I do?" asked Romashov, scowling and angry. "Shall I enter +the reserves? Where shall I go?" + +Nasanski looked at him with a gentle smile. + +"Listen, Romashov, and look me straight in the face--that's right. No, +don't turn away, look at me, and answer on your honour and conscience. +Do you really think that you are now serving any good, useful, and +reasonable purposes? I know you much better than all the rest--yes, I +know your inmost soul, and I know you do _not_ think so." + +"No," replied Romashov, in a firm voice, "you are right. But what will +become of me?" + +"Well, be calm. Only look at our officers. Oh, I'm not talking now of +the fops of the Emperor's lifeguards who dance at the Court balls, talk +French, and are kept by their parents or by their more or less lawful +wives. No, I'm thinking of ourselves--poor officers in the line who, +nevertheless, constitute the very 'pick' of the irresistible and +glorious Russian Army. What are we? Well, mere fag-ends--_le beau +reste_, despised pariahs; at best the sons of poor, poverty-stricken +infantry Captains, ruined in body and soul, but for, by far, the most +part consisting of collegians, seminarists, etc., who have failed. Look, +for instance, at our regiment. What are they who remain for any time in +the service? Poor devils burdened with large families, veritable beggars +ready for every villainy and cruelty--ah, even for murder--and are not +even ashamed of abstracting the poor soldier's scanty pay so that, at +any rate, cabbage soup may not be lacking on their table at home. Such +an individual is commanded to shoot. Whom? And for what? It is all the +same to him. He only knows that at home there are hungry mouths, dirty, +scrofulous, rickety children, and with dull countenance he splutters, +like another woodpecker, his eternal, unvarying answer, 'My oath.' And +if there's a spark of ability or talent in any one, it is extinguished +in schnapps. Seventy-five per cent. of our officers are diseased through +vice. If any one in the regiment happens to scrape through his entrance +examination for the Staff College--which, by the way, hardly happens +with us once in five years--he is pursued by hatred. The most servile +and fawning individuals, or those who have managed to obtain a little +patronage, as a rule, get into the police or gendarmes. Should they have +in their veins a few drops of noble blood, they may perhaps get a +circuit-judgeship in the country. Let us suppose that a man of +education, fine feeling, and heart is forced to remain in the regiment. +What do you suppose is his fate? To him the service is an intolerable +yoke and a perpetual source of humiliation, suffering, and +self-contempt. Every one tries to procure an occupation of another sort +which soon entirely engrosses him. One is seized with a mania for +collecting; another watches impatiently for the evening so that he may, +with great trouble and waste of time, embroider small crosses and other +gewgaws for an absolutely unnecessary ornamental mat. A third fills his +life by the help of a little metal saw, and produces at last an +exquisite, perforated frame for his own portrait. And the thought of all +this absurd and worthless work secretly occupies their minds during the +insufferable hours of drill. Cards, drinking-bouts, disgusting swagger +about the favours women have bestowed on them--all this I might be able +to pass over in silence. The most repulsive thing, however, is the cruel +eagerness, conspicuous in so many officers, to gain a name as martinets +and brutes to their men, as, for instance, Osadchi and Company, who with +impunity knock out the teeth and eyes of their young recruits. Perhaps +you are not aware that Artschakovski so maltreated his servant in my +presence that it was all I could do to help the victim away alive. Blood +splashed over the floor and walls. Well, how do you think the affair +ended? You shall hear. The soldier complained to the Captain of his +company; the latter sent him with a sealed order to the pay-sergeant, +who, in strict obedience to his superior's orders, further belaboured +with his fists the soldier's swollen and bleeding face for the space of +half an hour. The same soldier complained twice at the General +Inspection, but without redress." + +Nasanski stopped and began nervously rubbing his temples with the palm +of his hand. + +"Wait," he went on to say. "Ah, how one's thoughts fly! Isn't it an +unpleasant sensation to know that our thoughts lead us, and not we our +thoughts? Well, to resume what we were talking about. Among our senior +remaining officers we have also other types, for instance, Captain +Plavski. On his petroleum stove he cooks his own beastly food, goes +about in rags, and, out of his monthly forty-eight roubles twelve times +a year, he puts twenty-five in the bank, where he has a sum of 2,000 +roubles on deposit, which he lends to his brother officers at an +outrageously usurious rate of interest. And you think, perhaps, that +this is innate or inherited greed? Certainly not; it is only a means of +filling up the soul-destroying hours of garrison service. Then we have +Captain Stelikovski, a strong, able, talented man. Of what does his life +consist? Oh, in seducing young, inexperienced peasant girls. Finally, +our famous oddity, Lieutenant-Colonel 'Brehm.' A good-natured, kindly +ass--a thoroughly good fellow, who has but one interest in life--the +care of his animals. What to him signify the service, the colours, the +parades, censures of his superiors, or the honour of the warrior? Less +than nothing." + +"'Brehm' is a fine fellow. I like him," interrupted Romashov. + +"He certainly is that, my friend," Nasanski admitted in a weary tone, +"and yet," he went on to say with a lowering countenance, "if you knew +what I once saw at the manoeuvres. After a night march we were +directly afterwards to advance to attack. Both officers and men were +utterly done up. 'Brehm' was in command, and ordered the buglers to +sound the charge, but the latter, goodness knows why, signalled the +reserve to advance. 'Brehm' repeated his order once, twice, thrice, but +in vain; the result was the same. Then our excellent, kind-hearted +'Brehm' gallops up to the unsuspecting bugler, and bangs his fist, with +all his force, against the bell of the trumpet. I saw with my own eyes +the trumpeter spitting out blood and broken teeth." + +"Oh, my God!" groaned Romashov in disgust. + +"Yes, they are all alike, even the best and most tender-hearted among +them. At home they are splendid fathers of families and excellent +husbands; but as soon as they approach the barracks they become +low-minded, cowardly, and idiotic barbarians. You ask me why this is, +and I answer: Because nobody can find a grain of sense in what is called +military service. You know how all children like to play at war. Well, +the human race has had its childhood--a time of incessant and bloody +war; but war was not then one of the scourges of mankind, but a +continued, savage, exultant national feast to which daring bands of +youths marched forth, meeting victory or death with joy and pleasure. +The bravest, strongest, and most cunning was chosen as leader, and so +long as success attended his banner, he was almost accorded divine +worship, until at last he was killed by his subjects, in order to make +room for a luckier and more powerful rival. Mankind, however, grew in +age and wisdom; people got weary of the former rowdy, bloody games, and +became more serious, thoughtful, and cautious. The old Vikings of song +and saga were designated and treated as pirates. The soldier no longer +regarded war as a bloody but enjoyable occupation, and he had often to +be dragged to the enemy with a noose round his neck. The former +terrifying, ruthless, adored _atamens_ have been changed into cowardly, +cautious _chinóvniks_,[21] who get along painfully enough on never +adequate pay. Their courage is inspired by drink. Military discipline +still exists, but it is based on threats and dread, and undermined by a +dull, mutual hatred. To make a long story short, the whilom fine, proud +'pheasants' are of faded hue and look ruffled. Only one more parallel +resembling the foregoing can I adduce from universal history, to wit, +monasticism. The legend of its origin is touching and beautiful, its +mission was peaceful, benevolent, and civilizing, and its existence most +certainly an historic necessity. But centuries pass away, and what do we +see now? Hundreds of thousands of impostors, idle, licentious, and +impudent, who are hated and despised even by those who think they need +their religious aid. And all this abomination is carefully hidden under +a close veil of tinsel and finery, and foolish, empty ceremonies, in all +ages the charlatan's _conditio sine quâ non_. Is not this comparison of +mine between the monastic orders and the military caste logical? Here +the cassock and the censer; there the gold-laced uniform and the clank +of arms. Here bigotry, hypocritical humility, sighs, and sugary, +sanctimonious, unmeaning phrases; there the same odious affectations, +although of another kind--swaggering manners, bold, and scornful +looks--'God help the man who dares to insult me!'--padded shoulders, +cock-a-hoop defiance. Both the former and the latter class live like +parasites on society, and are profoundly conscious of that fact, but +fear--especially for their bellies' sake--to publish it. And both remind +one of certain little blood-sucking animals which eat their way most +obstinately into the surface of a foreign body in proportion as it is +decomposed." + +Nasanski stopped and spat with withering contempt. + +"Go on, go on," exclaimed Romashov eagerly. + +"But other times are coming, indeed have come. Yes, tremendous surprises +and changes are about to take place. You remember my saying on one +occasion that for a thousand years there has existed a genius of +humanity that seldom reveals itself, but whose laws are as inexorable as +they are ruthless; but the wiser men become, so much more deeply do they +penetrate the spirit of those laws. And I am convinced that, sooner or +later, everything in this world must be brought into equilibrium in +accordance with these immutable laws. Justice will then be dispensed. +The longer and more cruel the slavery has been, so much more terrible +will be the day of reckoning for tyrants. The greater the violence, +injustice, and brutality, so much more bloody will be the retribution. +Oh, I am firmly convinced that the day will dawn when we 'superior +officers,' we 'almighty swells,' darlings of the women, drones and +brainless swaggerers, will have our ears boxed with impunity in streets +and lanes, in vestibules and corridors, when women will turn their backs +on us in contempt, and when our own affectionate soldiers will cease to +obey us. And all this will happen, not because we have brutally +ill-treated men deprived of every possibility of self-defence; not +because we have, for the 'honour' of the uniform, insulted women; not +because we have committed, when in a state of intoxication, scandalous +acts in public-houses and public places; and not even because we, the +privileged lick-spittles of the State, have, in innumerable battlefields +and in pretty nearly every country, covered our standards with shame, +and been driven by our own soldiers out of the maize-fields in which we +had taken shelter. Well, of course, we shall also be punished for that. +No, our most monstrous and unpardonable sin consists in our being blind +and deaf to everything. For long, long periods past--and, naturally, far +away from our polluted garrisons--people have discerned the dawn of a +new life resplendent with light and freedom. Far-seeing, high-minded, +and noble spirits, free from prejudices and human fear, have arisen to +sow among the nations burning words of liberation and enlightenment. +These heroes remind one of the last scene in a melodrama, when the dark +castles and prison towers of tyranny fall down and are buried, in order, +as it were, by magic, to be succeeded by freedom's dazzling light and +hailed by exultant throngs. We alone--crass idiots, irredeemable victims +of pride and blindness--still stick up our tail-feathers, like angry +turkey-cocks, and yell in savage wrath, 'What? Where? Silence! Obey! +Shoot!' etc., etc. And it's just this turkey-cock's contempt for the +fight for freedom by awakening humanity that shall never, never be +forgiven us." + +The boat glided gently over the calm, open, mirroring surface of the +river, which was garlanded round by the tall, dark green, motionless +reeds. The little vessel was, as it were, hidden from the whole world. +Over it hovered, now and then uttering a scream, the white gulls, +occasionally so closely that, as they almost brushed Romashov with the +tips of their wings, they made him feel the breeze arising from their +strong, swift flights. Nasanski lay on his back in the stern of the boat +and kept staring, for a long time, at the bright sky, where a few golden +clouds sailing gently by had already begun to change to rose colour. + +Romashov said in a shy tone: + +"Are you tired? Oh, keep on talking." + +It seemed as if Nasanski continued to think and dream aloud when he once +more picked up the threads of his monologue. + +"Yes, a new, glorious, and wonderful time is at hand. I venture to say +this, for I myself have lived a good deal in the world, read, seen, +experienced, and suffered much. When I was a schoolboy, the old crows +and jackdaws croaked into our ears: 'Love your neighbour as yourself, +and know that gentleness, obedience, and the fear of God are man's +fairest adornments.' Then came certain strong, honest, fanatical men who +said: 'Come and join us, and we'll throw ourselves into the abyss so +that the coming race shall live in light and freedom.' But I never +understood a word of this. Who do you suppose is going to show me, in a +convincing way, in what manner I am linked to this 'neighbour' of +mine--damn him! who, you know, may be a miserable slave, a Hottentot, a +leper, or an idiot? Of all the holy legends there is none which I hate +and despise with my whole soul so much as that of John the Almoner.[22] +The leper says: 'I am shivering with cold; lie beside me in my bed and +warm my body with thy limbs. Lay thy lips close to my fetid mouth and +breathe on me!' Oh, how disgusting! How I hate this victim of leprosy, +and, for the matter of that, also all other similar choice examples of +my 'neighbour.' Can any reasonable being tell me why I should crush my +head so that the generation in the year 3200 may attain a higher +standard of happiness? Be quiet! I, too, once upon a time, sympathized +with the silly, babyish cackle about 'the world-soul,' 'man's sacred +duty,' etc. But even if these high-falutin phrases did find a place then +in my brain, they never forced their way into my heart. Do you follow +me, Romashov?" + +Romashov looked at Nasanski with a mixture of gratitude and shame. + +"I understand you fully. When I come to 'send in my checks' and die, +then the universe dies with me. That's what you meant, eh?" + +"Exactly, but listen further. Love of humanity is burnt out and has +vanished from the heart of man. In its stead shall come a new creed, a +new view of life that shall last to the world's end; and this view of +life consists in the individual's love for himself, for his own powerful +intelligence and the infinite riches of his feelings and perceptions. +Think, Romashov, just this way and in no other. Who is nearer and dearer +to me than myself? No one. You, and none other, are the Tsar and +autocrat of your own soul, its pride and ornament. You are the god of +all that lives. To you alone belongs all that you see, hear, and feel. +Take what you want and do what you please. Fear nobody and nothing, for +there is no one in the whole universe above you or can even be your +rival. Ah, a time will come when the fixed belief in one's own Ego will +cast its blessed beams over mankind as did once the fiery tongues of the +Holy Ghost over the Apostles' heads. Then there will be no longer slaves +and masters; no maimed or cripples; no malice, no vices, no pity, no +hate. Men will be gods. How shall I dare to deceive, insult, or +ill-treat another man, in whom I see and feel my fellow, who, like +myself, is a god? Then, and then only, shall life be rich and beautiful. +Over the whole habitable portion of our earth shall tall, airy, lovely +buildings be raised. Nothing vulgar, common, low, and impure shall any +longer torture the eye. Our daily life shall become a pleasurable toil, +an enfranchised science, a wonderful music, an everlasting merry-making. +Love, free and sovereign, shall become the world's _religion_. No longer +shall it be forced in shame to hide its countenance; no longer shall it +be coupled with sin, disgrace, and darkness. And our own bodies shall +glow with health, strength, and beauty, and go clad in bright, +shimmering robes. Just as certainly as I believe in an eternal sky above +me," shouted Nasanski, "so do I just as firmly believe in this +paradisaical life to come." + +Romashov, agitated and no longer master of himself, whispered with white +lips: + +"Nasanski, these are dreams, fancies." + +Nasanski's smile was silent and compassionate. + +"Yes," he at last uttered with a laugh still lingering in his voice, +"you may perhaps be right. A professor of Dogmatic Theology or Classical +Philology would, with arms and legs extended and head bent on one side +in profound thought, say something like this: 'This is merely an +outburst of the most unbridled Individualism.' But, my dear fellow, +luckily the thing does not depend on more or less categorical phrases +and comminations fulminated in a loud voice, but on the fact that there +is nothing in the world more real, practical and irrefutable than these +so-called 'fancies,' which are certainly only the property of some few +people. These fancies will some day more strongly and completely weld +together the whole of mankind to a complete homogeneous body. But let us +forget now that we are warriors. We are merely defenceless _starar_. +Suppose we go up the street; there we see right before us a wonderful, +merry-looking, two-headed monster[23] that attacks all who come within +its reach, no matter who they be. It has not yet touched me, but the +mere thought that this brute might ill-treat me, or insult a woman I +loved, or deprive me of my liberty is enough to make me mad. I cannot +overpower this creature by myself, but beside me walks another man +filled with the same thirst for vengeance as I, and I say to him: 'Come, +shall we go and kill the monster, so that he may not be able to dig his +claws into any one!' You understand that all I have just been telling +you is only a drastic simile, a hyperbole; but the truth is that I see, +in this two-headed monster that which holds my soul captive, limits my +individual freedom, and robs me of my manhood. And when that day dawns, +then no more lamb-like love for one's neighbour, but the divine love to +one's own Ego will be preached among men. Then, too, the double-headed +monster's reign will be over." + +Nasanski stopped. This violent outburst had evidently been too much for +his nerves. After a few minutes, he went on in a hollow voice: + +"My dear Georgi Alexievich, there rushes past us incessantly a brawling +stream of divinely inspired, lofty, flaming thoughts and new and +imperishable ideas which are to crush and bury for ever the bulwarks and +golden idols of tyranny and darkness. We, however, keep on stamping in +our old stalls and neighing: 'Ah, you poor jades, you ought to have a +taste of the whip!'--And once more I say: This will never be forgiven +us." + +Nasanski got up, wrapped his cloak round him with a slight shiver, and +remarked in a weary voice: + +"I'm cold--let's go home." + +Romashov rowed out of the rushes. The sun was setting behind the roofs +of the distant town, the dark outlines of which were sharply defined +against the red evening sky. Here and there the sunrays were reflected +by a gleaming window-pane. The greater part of the river's surface was +as even as a mirror, and faded away in bright, sportive colours; but +behind the boat the water was already dark, opaque, and curled by little +light waves. + +Romashov suddenly exclaimed, as if he were answering his own thoughts: + +"You are right. I'll enter the reserves. I do not yet know how I shall +do it, but I had thought of it before." + +Nasanski shivered with the cold and wrapped his cloak more closely round +him. + +"Come, come," replied he in a melancholy and tender tone. "There's a +certain inward light in you, Georgi Alexievich; I don't know what to +call it properly; but in this bear-pit it will soon go out. Yes, they +would spit at it and put it out. Then get away from here! Don't be +afraid to struggle for your existence. Don't fear life--the warm, +wonderful life that's so rich in changes. Let's suppose you cannot hold +yourself up; that you sink deep--deep; that you become a victim to +crime and poverty. What then? I tell you that the life of a beggar or +vagrant is tenfold richer than Captain Sliva's and those of his kidney. +You wander round the world here and there, from village to village, from +town to town. You make acquaintance with quaint, careless, homeless, +humorous specimens of humanity. You see and hear, suffer and enjoy; you +sleep on the dewy grass; you shiver with cold in the frosty hours of the +morning. But you are as free as a bird; you're afraid of no one, and you +worship life with all your soul. Oh, how little men understand after +all! What does it matter whether you eat _vobla_[24] or saddle of buck +venison with truffles; if you drink vodka or champagne; whether you die +in a police-cell or under a canopy? All this is the veriest trifle. I +often stand and watch funeral processions. There lies, overshadowed by +enormous plumes, in its silver-mounted coffin, a rotting ape accompanied +to the grave by a number of other apes, bedizened, behind and before, +with orders, stars, keys, and other worthless finery. And afterwards all +those visits and announcements! No, my friend, in all the world there is +only one thing consistent and worth possessing, viz, an emancipated +spirit with imaginative, creative force, and a cheerful temperament. One +can have truffles or do without them. All that sort of thing is a matter +of luck; it does not signify anything. A common guard, provided he is +not an absolute beast, might in six months be trained to act as Tsar, +and play his part admirably; but a well-fattened, sluggish, and stupid +ape, that throws himself into his carriage with his big belly in the +air, will never succeed in grasping what liberty is, will never feel the +bliss of inspiration, or shed sweet tears of enthusiasm. + +"Travel, Romashov. Go away from here. I advise you to do so, for I +myself have tasted freedom, and if I crept into my dirty cage again, +whose fault was it? But enough of this. Dive boldly into life. It will +not deceive you. Life resembles a huge building with thousands of rooms +in which you will find light, joy, singing, wonderful pictures, handsome +and talented men and women, games and frolic, dancing, love, and all +that is great and mighty in art. Of this castle you have hitherto seen +only a dark, narrow, cold, and raw cupboard, full of scourings and +spiders' webs, and yet you hesitate to leave it." + +Romashov made fast the boat and helped Nasanski to land. It was already +dusk when they reached Nasanski's abode. Romashov helped him to bed and +spread the cloak and counterpane over him. + +Nasanski trembled so much from his chill that his teeth chattered. He +rolled himself up like a ball, bored his head right into his pillow, and +whimpered helplessly as a child. + +"Oh, how frightened I am of my room! What dreams! What dreams!" + +"Perhaps you would like me to stay with you?" said Romashov. + +"No, no; that's not necessary. But get me, please, some bromide and a +little--vodka. I have no money." + +Romashov sat by him till eleven. Nasanski's fits of ague gradually +subsided. Suddenly he opened his great eyes gleaming with fever, and +uttered with some difficulty, but in a determined, abrupt tone: + +"Go, now--good-bye." + +"Good-bye," replied Romashov sadly. He wanted to say, "Good-bye, my +teacher," but was ashamed of the phrase, and he merely added with an +attempt at joking: + +"Why did you merely say 'good-bye'? Why not say _do svidánia_?"[25] + +Nasanski burst into a weird, senseless laugh. + +"Why not _do svishvezia_?"[26] he screamed in a wild, mad voice. + +Romashov felt that his body was shaken by violent shudders. + + + + +XXII + + +On approaching his abode, Romashov noticed, to his astonishment, that a +faint gleam of light poured from the dark window of his room. "What can +that be?" he thought, not without a certain uneasiness, whilst he +involuntarily quickened his steps. "Perhaps it is my seconds waiting to +communicate to me the conditions of the duel?" In the hall he ran into +Hainán, but he did not recognize him immediately in the dark, and being +startled, cried angrily: + +"What the devil----! Oh, it's you, Hainán--and who's in there?" + +In spite of the darkness, Romashov realized that Hainán was doing his +usual dance. + +"It's a lady, your Honour. She's sitting in there." + +Romashov opened the door. The lamp, the kerosene of which had long come +to an end, was still flickering feebly and was just ready to go out. On +the bed was seated a female figure, the outlines of which could scarcely +be distinguished in the half-dark room. + +"Shurochka!"--Romashov, who for a second was unable to breathe, slowly +approached the bed on tip-toe--"Shurochka, you here?" + +"S-sh; sit down," she replied in a rapid whisper. "Put out the lamp." + +Romashov blew sharply into the chimney of the lamp. The little +flickering, blue flame went out, and the room was at once dark and +silent, but, in the next moment, the alarum on the table went off +loudly. Romashov sat down by Alexandra Petrovna, but could not +distinguish her features. A curious feeling of pain, nervousness, and +faintness of heart took possession of him. He was unable to speak. + +"Who is on the other side of that wall?" asked Shurochka. "Can we be +overheard?" + +"No, there's no one there, only old furniture. My landlord is a joiner. +One can speak out loud." + +But both spoke, all the same, in a low voice, and those shyly uttered +words acquired, in the darkness, something in addition awful, +disquieting, treacherously stealthy. Romashov sat so close to Shurochka +that he almost touched her dress. There was a buzzing in his ears, and +the blood throbbed in his veins with dull, heavy beats. + +"Why, oh, why have you done this?" she asked quietly, but in a +passionately reproachful tone. Shurochka laid her hand on his knee. +Romashov felt through the cloth this light touch of her feverishly +burning finger-tips. He drew a deep breath, his eyes closed, and big +black ovals, the sides of which sparkled with a dazzling, bluish gleam, +took shape and ran into each other before his eyes, reminding him of the +legend of the wonderful lakes. "Did you forget that I told you to keep +your self-control when you met _him_? No, no--I don't reproach you. You +did not do it on purpose, I know that; but in that moment, when the wild +beast within you was aroused, you had not even one thought of me. There +was nothing to stay your arm. You never loved me." + +"I love you," said Romashov softly, as with a shy movement he put his +trembling fingers on her hand. Shurochka withdrew her hand, though not +hastily, but at once and slowly, as though she were afraid of hurting +him. + +"I know that neither you nor he mixed my name up with this scandal; but +I can tell you that all this chivalry has been wasted. There's not a +house in the town where they are not gossiping about it." + +"Forgive me; I could not control myself. I was blinded, beside myself +with jealousy," stammered Romashov. + +Shurochka laughed for a while to herself. At last she answered him: + +"You talk about 'jealousy.' Did you really think that my husband, after +his fight with you, was high-minded enough to deny himself the pleasure +of telling me where you had come from when you returned to the mess? He +also told me one or two things about Nasanski." + +"Forgive me," repeated Romashov. "It's true I was there--but I did +nothing to blush for in your presence. Pardon me." + +Shurochka suddenly raised her voice. Her voice acquired an energetic, +almost severe accent, when she answered him. + +"Listen, Georgi Alexievich, the minutes are precious. I waited here +nearly half an hour for you. Let us, therefore, talk briefly and to the +point. You know what Volodya is to me--I don't love him, but, for his +sake, I killed a part of my soul. I cherish greater ambition than he +does. Twice he has failed to pass for the Staff College. This caused me +far greater sorrow and disappointment than it did him. All this idea of +trying to get on the Staff is mine, only mine. I have literally dragged +him, whipped him on, crammed lessons into him, gone over them with him, +filed and sharpened him, screwed up his pride and ambition, and cheered +him in hours of apathy and depression. I live only for this, and I +cannot even bear the thought of these hopes of mine being blighted. +Whatever the cost, Volodya must pass his examination." + +Romashov sat with his head in his hands. Suddenly he felt Shurochka +softly and caressingly drawing her fingers through his hair. Sorrowful +and bewildered, he said to her: + +"What can I do?" + +She laid her arm round his neck and drew his head to her bosom. She was +not wearing a corset, and Romashov felt her soft, elastic bosom pressed +against his cheek, and inhaled the delicious, aromatic perfume that came +from her young, absolutely healthy body. When she spoke he felt in his +hair her irregular, nervous breathing. + +"You remember, that evening--at the picnic? I told you then the whole +truth: I did not love him; but think, now, only think, three +years--three whole long years of the most arduous, repulsive work--of +fancies, dreams, hopes. You know how I hate and despise this wretched +little provincial hole, the odious set of officers. I always wanted to +be dressed expensively and elegantly. I love power, flattery--slaves. +And then comes this regimental scandal, this stupid fight between two +drunken, irresponsible men accidentally brought together. Then all is +over--all my dreams and hopes turned to ashes. Isn't this dreadful? I +have never been a mother; but I think I can imagine what it would be if +I had a son--a son petted, idolized, even madly worshipped. He +represents, so to speak, an incarnation or embodiment of my life's +dreams, sorrows, tears, sleepless nights, and then, suddenly, occurs a +senseless accident. My little son is sitting playing at the window; the +nurse turns away for a few minutes, and the child falls out on to the +pavement. My dear, my sorrow and indignation can only be compared to +this mother's despair. But I am not blaming you." + +Romashov was sitting in a very cramped and uncomfortable position, and +he was afraid that his heavy head might cause Shurochka pain or +discomfort. But he had, however, for hours been used to sitting without +moving, and, in a sort of intoxication, listen to the quick and regular +beatings of his heart. + +"Do you hear what I say?" she asked, stooping down to him. + +"Yes, yes--talk, talk. You know I'll do all you wish. Oh, if I could +only----" + +"No, no; but only listen till I have finished. If you kill him or if +they prevent him from sitting for the examination, then it is all, all +over. That very day I shall cast him off as a worthless thing, and go my +own way--where? No matter where. To St. Petersburg, Odessa, Kiev. Don't +imagine this is one of those common, untrue, 'penny-novelette' phrases. +Cheap effects I despise, and I will spare you them. But I know I am +young, intelligent, and well-educated. I am not pretty, but I know the +art of catching men far better than all those famous charmers who, at +our official balls, receive the prize for beauty in the form of an +elegant card-tray or something between a musical-box and an alarum. I +can stand in the background; I can, by coldness and contempt, be bitter +to myself and others. But I can flame up into a consuming passion and +burn like a firework." + +Romashov glanced towards the window. His eyes had now begun to be used +to the darkness, and he could distinguish the outlines of the framework +of the window. + +"Don't talk like that, please. It pains me so; but, tell me, do you wish +me to avoid the duel, and send him an apology? Tell me." + +Shurochka did not reply at once. The clock again made its monotonous, +metallic voice heard, and filled every corner of the dark room with its +infernal din. At last Shurochka answered as softly as if she were +talking to herself in thought, and with an expression in her voice which +Romashov was not in a condition to interpret. + +"I knew you would offer to do this." + +"I do not feel afraid," he exclaimed in a stern but soft tone. + +"No, no, no," she said hastily in an eager, beseeching whisper. "You +misunderstood me, you do not understand me. Come nearer to me. Come and +sit as you did just now. Come!" + +She threw both her arms round his neck, and whispered to him tender +words, tickling his face with her soft hair, and flooding his cheeks +with her hot breath. + +"You quite misunderstood me. I meant something quite different, but I am +ashamed to tell you all. You are so good, so pure-hearted. I, alas! am +the opposite, and, therefore, it's so difficult for me to mention it." + +"No, no. Tell me everything. I love you." + +"Listen to me," she began, and Romashov guessed what she would say +before she could utter the words. "If you refuse to fight with him, how +much shame and persecution, how many sufferings will be your lot. No, +no, this must not be done. Oh, my God, at this moment I will not lie to +you, dear. I have already weighed everything carefully. Suppose you +refuse the duel. In that case my husband will certainly be +rehabilitated; but, you understand, after a duel that ends in +reconciliation, there is always something left--how shall I put +it?--something covered by a certain obscurity, and which, therefore, +leaves room for malice and slander. Do you understand me now?" she added +with melancholy tenderness, pressing, at the same time, a light kiss on +his brow. + +"Yes, but go on." + +"The consequence, of course, is that they would never allow my husband +even to present himself for a fresh examination. The reputation of an +officer on the Staff must be unblemished. On the other hand, if a duel +actually takes place, it will put you both in a dignified, heroic light. +Men who can conduct themselves fittingly in front of the muzzle of a +revolver--very much will be forgiven them in this world. Besides--after +the duel--you can, if you like, offer an apology; but that I leave to +your own discretion." + +Tightly clasped in each other's arms, they continued their conversation +in a whisper, but Romashov felt as if something mysterious, unclean, and +nauseous had crept in between him and Shurochka, and he felt a freezing +chill at heart. Again he tried to tear himself away from her arms, but +she would not let him go. In his effort to hide from her the nervous +excitement he was in, he exclaimed in a rough tone: + +"For Heaven's sake, put an end to this! Say what you want, and I'll +agree to everything." + +Then she put her mouth so close to his that her words affected him like +hot, thrilling kisses. + +"The duel must take place, but neither of you will run any risk. Don't +misunderstand me, I implore you, and don't condemn me. Like all women, I +loathe cowards, but, for _my_ sake, you must do this. No, Georgi, don't +ask me if my husband--for the matter of that, he already knows all." + +Now at last Romashov managed to release himself from the tight grip of +her soft, strong arms. He stood straight up before her, and answered in +a curt, rough voice: + +"That's all right. It shall be as you wish! I consent." + +Shurochka also rose. Romashov could not see in the dark room that she +was putting her hair straight, but he felt or guessed it. + +"Are you going now?" he asked. + +"Good-bye," she replied in a faint voice, "and kiss me now for the last +time." + +Romashov's heart was shaken by pity and love. Groping in the darkness, +he caught her head in his hands, and began kissing her eyes and cheeks, +which were wet with big, silent tears. This took away his self-control. + +"Don't cry like that, Sascha, my darling," he implored in a sad and +tender tone. + +Suddenly throwing her arms round his neck, she pressed herself tightly +to him by a strong, passionate movement, and, without ceasing her +kisses, she whispered the words in short, broken sentences. She was +breathing heavily and trembling all over. + +"I can't part from you like this. We shall never see each other again. +Some presentiment tells me that, so at this only moment we must not fear +anything in the world. Let us be happy!" + +And at that moment the pair, the room, the entire world, were filled +with an ineffable bliss--stupefying, suffocating, consuming. For the +space of a second Romashov fancied he saw, as it were by miracle, +Shurochka's eyes shining on him with an expression of mad joy. Her lips +sought his. + + * * * * * + +"May I accompany you home?" asked Romashov, as he escorted her to the +street. + +"No, my darling, don't. I have not the least idea how long I've been +with you. What is the time?" + +"I don't know. I have not a watch." + +She stood lingering there, leaning against the gate. A powerful scent +arose from the earth in the warm, languishing summer night. It was still +dark, but, notwithstanding the darkness, Romashov could clearly +distinguish Shurochka's features, motionless and pale as a marble +statue's. + +"Good-bye, my darling," she uttered at last in a weary voice. +"Good-bye." They embraced each other, but their lips were cold and +lifeless. Shurochka departed quickly and was swallowed up by the dark +night. + +Romashov remained a while listening till the last faint sounds of her +light steps could no longer be caught, and then returned to his room. A +feeling of utter, yet pleasant, weariness took possession of him. He had +hardly undressed before he fell asleep. And the last impression left on +his mind was a faint, delicious odour of perfume proceeding from his +pillow--the scent from Shurochka's hair and her fair young body. + + + + +XXIII + + +_June 2, 18--._ +Z. + +To his Excellency the Colonel and Commander of the--th Infantry Regiment +from Ditz, Staff-Captain of the same regiment. + + + REPORT. + +Herewith allow me respectfully to report to your Excellency that the +duel between Lieutenant Nikoläiev and Sub-lieutenant Romashov took place +to-day, according to the conditions settled by you on the 1st inst. + +The two adversaries met at 5.55 a.m. in the wood called "Oakwood," +situated three and a quarter versts beyond the town. The duel was +decided in the space of one minute ten seconds, including the time for +placing the parties and giving the signal. The places taken by the +duellists were determined by lot. When the command "Forward" was given +the fight began. As the two officers approached each other, a shot from +Lieutenant Nikoläiev struck Sub-lieutenant Romashov high on the right +side. After this Lieutenant Nikoläiev stopped to await his adversary's +bullet, but, after the lapse of half a minute, it was evident that +Sub-lieutenant Romashov was not in a condition to return the shot, by +reason of which Sub-lieutenant Romashov's seconds declared the duel was +ended, as to which other witnesses were agreed. Sub-lieutenant +Romashov, on being carried to his carriage, fell into a deep swoon, and +died in five minutes through internal hæmorrhage. + +The seconds on Lieutenant Nikoläiev's side were the undersigned and +Lieutenant Vasin; on Sub-lieutenant Romashov's, Lieutenants +Biek-Agamalov and Viätkin. The further arrangements for the duel were, +by general agreement, made by me. + +A certificate from Dr. Znoiko is enclosed herein. + +_Ditz_, +_Staff-Captain._ + + UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON + + * * * * * + +_Crown 8vo._ FICTION _6s. each_ + +Moll Davis + +BY BERNARD CAPES + +A very light-hearted Comedy of the Stuart period, elaborated from an +incident in the Grammont Memoirs. With the more than doubtful reputation +of the lady of the title-rôle Mr. Capes has taken some additional +liberties, but only with a view to helping it to a kindlier estimate +than it perhaps deserved. Moll will be remembered as Pepys's little +jigging shepherdess, who, as Celania in Davenant's play of "The Rivals," +won the royal heart by her singing of "My Lodging is on the Cold +Ground." She was one of the many then foundresses of noble houses. Her +early history was so obscure as to lend itself very legitimately to the +purposes of romance. Only dates in this case have been a little freely +dealt with. + +Through Stained Glass + +BY GEORGE AGNEW CHAMBERLAIN + +Author of "Home" + +"Brilliantly witty, always interesting, distinctly new in its +characterisation."--_Land and Water._ + +"Has a flavour of high romance ... with an imaginative skill."--_Daily +News._ + +"Very clever, very interesting, and extremely well written."--_Sunday +Times._ + +His Father's Wife + +BY J. E. PATTERSON + +"This is the best book that Mr. Patterson has yet given us."--_New +Witness._ + +"One of the cleverest novels of the present day."--_Pioneer._ + +"Is intensely human ... is drawn with much detail and convincing +knowledge"--_The Queen._ + +Fate the Marplot + +SECOND IMPRESSION. + +BY F. THICKNESSE-WOODINGTON + +"Clear-cut character studies."--_Birmingham Gazette._ + +"Grips the reader's attention throughout."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ + +"Admirably told ... has not a dull moment in its pages."--_World._ + +Sanpriel: The Promised Land + +BY ALVILDE PRYDZ + +Author of "The Heart of the Northern Sea" + +Authorized Translation from the Norwegian + +_By_ HESTER CODDINGTON + +"Sanpriel" is an unusual story in which the translator has retained the +foreign flavour of its picturesque Norwegian setting. It deals with +intimate human relations without the hectic touch, is readable, has a +true poetic quality, and carries the cool, refreshing air of Norway's +mountains and streams into every moment of the story. + +A recent issue of the American Library Association Bulletin lists 176 +books. Only 13 of this number are especially recommended for purchase by +all libraries, large or small. "Sanpriel" is one of the 13. Still more +significant is the fact that of 21 volumes of fiction listed, only three +have the distinction of being specially recommended. "Sanpriel" is one +of the three. + +Oblomov + +BY IVAN GONCHAROV + +Translated by C. J. HOGARTH + +Mr. MAURICE BARING says: "In Oblomov Goncharov created a type which has +become immortal, and Oblomov has passed into the Russian tongue, just as +Tartuffe has passed into the French language, or Pecksniff into the +English tongue." + +Collins & Co. + +BY CAPTAIN JACK ELLIOTT + +"Is an excellent tale of adventure."--_Athenæum._ + +"There is a general sense of rollicking adventure about the whole book +that is quite captivating."--_Truth._ + +"It goes with quite a merry swing."--_Times._ + +It's an Ill Wind-- + +BY DOUGLAS GOLDRING + +Author of "Streets": a book of London Verses, "The Loire," "Ways of +Escape," etc. + +"A clever and lifelike picture ... brightly written. A pleasant story +and one to read."--_Ladies' Field._ + +"Is distinctly one to read, and as clever a novel as any to be +found."--_Tatler._ + +"The combination of realistic style and romantic substance is quite +piquant."--_Westminster Gazette._ + + * * * * * + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The Lezghins are among the medley of mountain tribes living in +Daghestan and part of the Terek province. These mountaineers of the +Eastern Caucasus are nearly all Sun'i Mohammedans. + +[2] One of Russia's bravest and greatest generals in the war with +Napoleon, 1812. + +[3] Roman Catholic priests are so called in Lithuania and Poland. + +[4] _Schtoss_ is a sort of Russian hazard. + +[5] Yuri = George. + +[6] _Roubashka_ (blouse). + +[7] The official newspaper of the Russian Army. + +[8] Professional floor-polisher. + +[9] A town and "government" in East Russia. + +[10] Corresponds to the Swedish _smörgåsbord_, and consists of a number +of cold dishes and delicacies. + +[11] A national dish in Russia, consisting of a sort of buckwheat +porridge baked in the oven in fire-proof earthen vessels, which are put +on the table. + +[12] In the time of Nicholas, sons of soldiers quartered or garrisoned +in certain districts. They were liable to be called on to serve. + +[13] An old Slavonic character (l'schiza), only occurring in the Russian +Bible and Ritual. + +[14] Nickname for Little Russians on account of their curious habit of +cutting and fashioning their hair into a tuft (_khokhol_) on the crown. + +[15] An affectionate diminutive of George. + +[16] Sliva is the Russian for plum. + +[17] Arshin = 2·33 feet. + +[18] Pet name for Alexandra. + +[19] A light jacket worn in the hot weather. + +[20] The name given to Ivan the Terrible's lifeguards and executioners. + +[21] _Chinóvnik_, Russian word for official. + +[22] Ivan Milostivni, one of the innumerable saints of the Greek Church. + +[23] The allusion is to the double eagle in the arms of Russia. + +[24] _Vobla_ is a kind of fish of the size of Prussian carp, and is +caught in the Volga. + +[25] _Au revoir._ + +[26] Untranslatable pun on the two last syllables of _svidánia_; Dania +means Denmark, _Schvezia_, Sweden. + + * * * * * + +Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: + + +Agamalov-Biek Biek-Agamalov=> {pg 9} + +Nikolaiev=> Nikoläiev {pg 37} + +Vladimir Yefimovisch=> Vladimir Yefimovich {pg 51} + +Nikkoläiev=> Nikoläiev {pg 61} + +Nasanski stuck his hands in his pocket=> Nasanski stuck his hands in his +pockets {pg 70} + +they call me Koval=> they call me Kovál {pg 228} + +Yuri Alekseich,=> Yuri Alexeich, {pg 267} + +by the name mysterious "benefactor"=> by the same mysterious +"benefactor" {pg 295} + +non-commisioned=> non-commissioned {pg 362} + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Duel, by A. I. Kuprin + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44117 *** |